Fiction: The Strange Saga of Steampunk Charlie

((I had permission to repost this from the author, Steampunk Charlie. Enjoy!))

The Strange Saga of Steampunk Charlie

Chapter One: The Arrival

"Okay Charlie, let's go over this again. You're not a registered superhero, but you used the city's emergency teleportation system. Now I have two questions for you. One, how did you do it, and two, why? Are you working for the Rikti?" Officer Frietag asked the slightly bewildered man lying in the hospital bed.

"Officer, I do wish you would stop calling me 'Charlie.' My rightful name is Professor Charles Winthrop III, and I demand to be released immediately! I must check up on Mary, and return to my workshop!"

Frietag looked thoughtful for a moment. If this guy's story checked out with the eggheads over at Portal Corp, then he had a longer trip "back to his workshop" than he thought.
"Tell me this, Charlie..." Frietag was enjoying calling the man by this diminutive... "What year is it, again?"

The man on the bed stared at Officer Frietag as if he had grown a second head "Why, it is the year of our Lord, Eighteen Hundred and Eighty Three. Are you daft, man? I am starting to suspect that you aren't an officer of the law at all, and that I have accidentally been taken to a madhouse! 'What year' indeed!"

Before Frietag could respond, a young man wearing a lab coat and carrying a clipboard leaned through the doorway of the room. "Officer? I need to speak with you for a moment. We got the results back that you asked for."

Frietag stepped out into the hall after telling Professor Winthrop to "Stay put, or else," and asked the technician, "So is this guy a nutcase, or what?"

"Unfortunately we can't use Portal Corp's 'dimensional watcher' technology to confirm a person's sanity, Officer, but we did find out that the gentleman in that hospital bed is telling the truth." the technician said.

"What?? You mean this guy really is from 1883?" Frietag exclaimed.

The technician glanced at his clipboard before answering... "Not exactly, sir. He IS from 1883, but not OUR 1883. You see, he comes from an alternate dimension's version of 1883, where the fictional 'steampunk' technology really existed. We set the watcher to the same frequency as the equipment he appeared with, and recorded the last 20 minutes of his existence there. I have it on this portable DVD player if you'd like to see it."

Frietag took the proffered DVD player and watched the video. At first the screen was awash in random swirling colors.

After a few moments, these resolved to show what appeared to be a cross between Frankenstein's laboratory, and a cabinetmaker's shop. Standing in the midst of all the brass and metal instruments were a woman in a long blue dress, and a man wearing a long sleeveless leather coat, who was instantly recognizable as the gentleman currently lying in the hospital bed.

"Oh Charles, I'm so terribly afraid! You know what the manual said about using non-standard parts while assembling the Interocitor!" the woman exclaimed.

Professor Winthrop turned away from the large console he was working on to say, "Mary my dearest, I am quite certain the Amalgamated Interocitor Company merely said that to make certain their customers stay loyal. Besides, it would take days to get a new Cathermin tube. Not to mention the expense! I have calculated that I can replace that overpriced tin can with a part machined by myself."

"But Charles," the woman asked, "are you certain you can get the new part to have an inindium complex of +4?"

"My dear, I have been an inventor for nigh on 30 years now. Ever since I was a wee lad and created my first clockwork teddy bear. Please have more confidence in my scientific abilities!" the Professor said as he finished hooking a cylindrical object to the console.

After a few more minutes of wiring various other components to the console, the Professor stepped back, and while wiping his hands on a towel said, "Finished! My dear, once we activate the Interocitor, we will change the world of science forever!"

Mary, looking unsure of the large machine, said, "But Charles, what exactly does the Interocitor do?"

"Why, there's no limit to what it could do. Assembling a row of brick houses in less than an hour would be a cinch." the Professor said, with a faraway look in his eyes.

"Charles, do you really think Man is ready for this kind of power?" Mary asked, tears of delight brimming in her eyes.

Instead of answering, the Professor simply grasped a large multi-colored knob on the front of the machine, turning it to the left. A large triangular screen on top of the console began to pulsate with strange colors while a high pitched hum filled the air.

The Professor wrapped his arm around Mary's shoulders as they watched the machine.

"It's working, Mary! It is actually... Wait!" he exclaimed, as the swirling colors suddenly brightened and the hum grew to an ear-piercing screech.

Suddenly, before either the Professor or Mary could react, the machine exploded.

The screen of the DVD player went blank.

"What? Is that it? This 'Interocitor' they built exploded, and he ended up here?" Frietag asked the technician.

The technician consulted his clipboard again, before answering. "Well, as far as we can tell, yes. The 'Interocitor' malfunctioned, and transported them across dimensions to our world. Once the professor landed in Atlas Park, the emergency transport system detected certain devices he had on his person, and mistook him for a Hero in trouble."

Frietag frowned, "Well, then I guess the Chief was right. This guy has the makings of a Hero, at least until we can find a way to send him home."

"A wise choice, Officer," the technician remarked, "especially considering that we have no idea how to send him home, yet."

"Yeah, at least it'll help him stay out of trouble. And I'm sure D.A.T.A. can help him adapt to present day. I'll call Rick Davies in a..." Frietag stopped talking for a moment, "Wait a minute! You said 'transported them'. Are you telling me that the girl is still out there somewhere?"

The technician looked pensive for a moment, "Well, we aren't exactly sure. But a dimensional rift with the same signature as his was located..."

Officer Frietag grabbed the technician by the collar "Why didn't you say so before? We need to send a medical team to bring her here immediately!"

"Well, sir, there's a slight problem with that..." the technician sputtered.

Frietag growled "Do tell. Why haven't we sent anyone to help her yet?"

The technician, shaking and sputtering, finally managed to squeak out, "Her rift signature places her somewhere on Rogue Isles..."

---

I'm taken. More please.

---

"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi

Characters

[ QUOTE ]
I'm taken. More please.

[/ QUOTE ]

My sentiments exactly

---

Global - @El D

Servers - Protector

Chapter Two: Dressing Like A Hero

Professor Winthrop had been in Paragon City for just over a month since the Interocitor had exploded, sending him screaming through dimensions from his alternate-history Earth to this world, and he was slowly starting to come to grips with the situation.

Upon being released from the hospital, he had been issued a “Temporary Hero License” and been given quarters at the Department of Advanced Technological Application’s labs in Atlas Park. They hadn’t asked much of him in return, which he found surprising, but they were very interested in his ability to tinker with the odd bits of hardware he found laying around.

Rick Davies, whom the Professor actually enjoyed visiting with, was paying him another visit.

“So, Professor, what have you come up with this time? Is there anything I can get you?” Rick asked, eyeing the metal-covered mannequin the Professor was attaching several unidentifiable bits to.

The Professor paused for a moment in his work, smiling at Davies, “No thank you, Rick. I have almost finished here. As for what I have tinkered together this time, I have decided that since your fantastic city seems to think of me as a Hero, I should at least make the attempt to ‘play the part’ so to speak.

“To that end, I have been constructing a suit of armor to ‘even the score’ as I believe I overheard one of your technicians say.”

Davies ran a critical eye over the decidedly “Victorian” style of body armor hanging from the mannequin in front of him. “Okay Professor, I’ll bite. What does this armor do?”

“Simply put, aside from enhancing my body’s strength five-fold, the steam-powered body-armor will be capable of harnessing and unleashing static electricity in large quantities for several purposes,” the Professor said, as he attached a large, flat tank to the back of the armored suit.

“Steam-powered?” Davies asked, incredulously, “But Professor, we have made such great advances in miniaturized power sources since your time! Why not go with micro-atomic, or Kheldian Crystal, or…”

“No, no, my dear young man,” the Professor interrupted Davies, “You have all these wonderful advances, but I prefer working with a medium in which I am well-versed. Much easier to repair this way, in case of damage on the field of battle. Besides, I do have a few pieces of that damned Interocitor with me, and they should prove quite capable of making my armor even more efficient.”

Davies looked thoughtful for a moment. “Speaking of that, Professor, my teams have found some more debris from where you first landed in our world. We analyzed them, of course, but can’t really tell much about them. And I was kind of hoping you could shed a bit of light into how they work?” he asked, as he reached the Professor a handful of small objects that looked like marbles with metal rods pushed through the centers.

“Ah, yes!” the Professor exclaimed, “The very parts I need for the electrical generators! These, my young friend, are ‘bead condensers.’ Basically, they take any form of energy, and convert it into electricity. On a rather large scale too, if I remember correctly.”

“Yes, as we found out, just before Lab Bay Six was blown apart from the energy discharge.” Davies said, as the Professor installed the components into the gear-shaped shoulder pads of his armor.

“Oh my. Was anyone injured?” the Professor asked, looking concerned. “It seems that everything about the Interocitor is cursed to do nothing but harm.”

Davies smiled at the Professor’s sudden empathy, which was quite out of character for the slightly uptight, and very British, gentleman. “No, Professor. Six is an automated testing lab we use for unusual or unknown devices. We managed to pump thirty thousand kilowatts into one of those ‘bead condensers’ before it discharged. The three hundred thousand kilowatts it sent back out was quite impressive, too! Can you tell us exactly how they manage to do that?”

The Professor looked sad for a moment before answering,

“Unfortunately, no. All that I can really say of them is that they are part number AB-619 in the ‘Electronic Service Unit 16’ catalog. Now if we could happen to find a copy of that book, perhaps I could give you a better answer.”

Davies, apparently lost in thought, wandered around the mannequin, examining all the components the Professor had integrated into the rust and steel colored battle suit. “Well, Professor, I’ve got a team over at the Portal Corporation working around the clock on trying to find a copy of the book for you. If we can get it, perhaps you could use it to build another Interocitor and eventually return home.”

“That would be most excellent my young friend,” the Professor said as he tinkered with what appeared to be a large pair of metal boots, “but there is no way I could return home again without finding Mary first. Has there been any news on her whereabouts?”

“Very little actually, Professor,” sighed Davies, as he examined a piece of metal hose that ran down the back of the armor to the legs. “But from what the Freedom Corps have been able to tell us, at the same time you appeared in Atlas Park, she appeared in Cap Au Diable. Unfortunately, before any of the Longbow agents could get to her, a group of Lord Recluse’s men snatched her away.”

The Professor laid his tools down on the bench, looking grim. “Then I must go straight away to rescue her.”

Davies laid a sympathetic hand on the Professor’s shoulder. “Until we know for certain whether or not your suit can handle battle, I’d suggest staying away from the Rogue Isles, sir. That’s a very dangerous place that even the great Statesman doesn’t visit often.”

The Professor, summoning every bit of control he could muster, turned towards Rick Davies. “So what do you advise me to do, Richard? Shall I stay here in the relative safety offered by D.A.T.A. and allow my fiancée to be killed by this Lord Recluse?”

Before Davies could answer, a voice called from the doorway of the lab, “No Charlie. We expect you to fight Lord Recluse and get Mary back.”

The Professor and Davies both turned around, startled.

Standing in the doorway, his arms folded casually against his chest, was Detective Frietag.

“Inspector Frietag, my good man!” the Professor exclaimed, rushing forward to shake the Detective’s hand.

“Told you before Charlie, I’m a Detective, not an Inspector,” Frietag returned the Professor’s handshake warmly, a smile playing across his stern features.

“And as I have told you, Inspector, my name is Charles, not Charlie,” the Professor replied good-naturedly.

Rick Davies watched the two men bemusedly. The Professor was the only person who could make the “Detective with an Iron Face” come close to smiling.

After a few more “friendly” exchanges, the Detective resumed his stern posture. “What it comes down to Charlie, is you have to learn to walk before you can run. I know you’re a brilliant egghead scientist, but how are you in a fight?”

The Professor thought for a moment before answering. “Well, I can certainly hold my own in a fair stand-up boxing match, but I don’t believe Lord Recluse and his men would be willing to follow the Marquess of Queensberry rules, would they? Hence the reason I have designed and built this battle suit.”

“So when will the suit be ready, Professor?” Davies asked.
The Professor resumed tinkering at the workbench, “Just as soon as I finish installing these bead condensers into the electrical generators, Richard.”

As the Professor installed the casings for the generators on the shoulders of the battle suit, Frietag’s police radio gave a sudden squawk, and the Detective listened intensely to the radio broadcast.

“Looks like you’re getting it finished just in time, Charlie.” the Detective grimaced, “A villain named Comatorium is robbing the Atlas Park bank. Think you’re up to stopping him as a test of this steampunk tuxedo?”

The Professor hurriedly began changing into the rust colored body armor as he replied, “Well Inspector, I’ll certainly try my best.”

Davies appeared lost in thought for a moment. “Wait Professor! If you go out there to fight a villain, you’re going to need a name! The press will be calling to find out who the newest Hero in Atlas Park is, and you certainly don’t want them to know your real name.”

As the last pieces of the Professor’s costume settled themselves into place, he flipped a switch on the chest of his new body suit. A chugging sound issued from his back, and wisps of steam rose from the joints. “Well then, I suppose you can call me ‘Steampunk Charlie’ for now.”

---

Chapter Three: A Shocking Revelation

Deep within the bowels of City Hall, in a little-used office, an unusual meeting is taking place...

The young technician from Portal Corp who was assigned the task of helping Professor Winthrop find his way back home is meeting with someone...

"You a-as-asked to see me s-si-ir?" the Technician stammers, awed by the person he was sent to meet.

"Come in, son, and close the door. I just wanted to see what progress you were making in finding a way for our two visitors from the past a way home."

The Technician thumbs through his clipboard, "W-we-well s-si-sir, we've f-fo-found his target dimension and time, b-bu-but there's been a slight problem with s-se-sending him home. It s-se-seems someone from present-day has tampered with the timestream."

"Go on..." the person sitting behind the desk prompts. "Tell me exactly what you've found."

"Well, s-si-sir, after reviewing the video footage, the equipment the Professor was working on didn't cause the dimensional rift. It did explode, but o-on-only after someone..." the Technician trails off.

The figure behind the desk leans forward slightly. "Make it march, son. You're not going to be in any trouble for telling me what happened."

The Technician visibly swallows, and takes a deep breath, still in awe of the muscular figure sitting casually behind the desk. "O-ok-okay. We have found that someone went back in the past to the Professor's home dimension, caused the explosion, and then opened the rift that sent the Professor and Miss Cottington here."

"And do we know who this 'someone' is?" the figure asks, expectantly.

"Y-ye-yes sir. The f-fo-footage clearly shows you blasting the d-de-device, and t-th-then throwing the Professor and Miss Cottington through the rift." the Technician stammers out, visibly pale and shaken.

In a sudden blur of red and blue, the figure leaps up from the desk and pins the Technician in the corner.

"Who else has seen this footage?" he asks, his hands holding the Technician tightly.

The Technician, shaking, replies, "N-no-nobody, sir, j-ju-just as you asked. B-bu-but sir, I...I have to ask, why, sir? W-wh-why would you do that to them? Y-yo-you're... Everyone looks up to you!"

"Son, being a hero isn't always a pretty job." the muscular figure whispers, just before snapping the Technician's neck.

As the Technician's limp body falls to the floor, the figure continues...

"And sometimes, a hero doesn't feel like being a hero," he mutters as he incinerates the body, papers, and all other evidence in the room with a series of short controlled lightning strikes.

---

Chapter Four: Friends and Lovers

"Is he still out there?" Officer Freitag asked Rick Davies, who was staring intently at a monitor displaying a curious scene in Atlas Park.

"Yes, I'm afraid so," Rick replied, without taking his eyes from the monitor. "I just wish he'd talk to us, and let us know what's wrong!"

Freitag grinned for just a moment. "I know what the problem is, but solving it is gonna be a pain. Have you looked around lately Rick?"

Davies turned towards the detective, blinking to deglaze his eyes. "No... I've been busy overseeing the installation of this new tesseract technology into hero costumes ever since the Professor gave me the prototype. Why?"

"Look at the calendar son. Tomorrow is Valentine's Day!" Freitag pointed at the holographic date/time display on the wall of Davies' office. "And unless I miss my guess, our brilliant boy out there misses his lady friend something fierce."

A look of horror slowly grew on Davies' face. "Valentine's Day? Tomorrow? Oh God! Caitlin is gonna kill me!"

"You mean you forgot to get her anything?" Freitag asked, trying hard to not grin.

"No, I have a gift for her. A ring, actually. But I forgot to make reservations for the restaurant. And by now it's probably too late! What can I do?" Davies cried as he whipped out his cellphone and started dialing frantically.

Meanwhile, Professor Charles Winthrop, Paragon City's chronologically-challenged hero, was sitting on the foot of Atlas, staring morosely into the distance, thinking back on what (to him) took place just a year ago...

"Charles, I'm freezing! Why must we come all the way down to Salcott in the middle of winter? And why are we paddling along in this ridiculous boat?" Mary asked, while wrapping herself up in several blankets as tightly as she could.

The Professor stopped rowing and smiled at the woman he loved more than anything. "Because my dear, the conditions must be perfect for this experiment, or it will utterly fail."

Mary tugged the blankets even tighter and looked around at the fog-shrouded water. "But Charles, we can barely see three feet around us. And with the holiday and all, I was hoping we could spend the day at home. Just the two of us, where it's warm and dry."

"Holiday? But my dear, today is just a Wednesday like any other," the Professor replied as he tinkered with a small box sitting between them.

Mary stared at the Professor incredulously. "Like any other? Charles Edward Winthrop! Do you mean to tell me you have forgotten that today is Valenti..."

The words drifted off as the Professor threw a last switch on the side of the box. A sudden burst of rose-colored light flared out of the top of the device, beaming straight up into the air and burning off the fog for miles around.

The Professor, smiling, says, "Just watch, my dear."

As they both looked up, the beam began to widen, forming the pattern of a heart forty feet across. Words appeared on the heart, as if written by a gigantic, unseen hand.

"Happy Valentine's Day to my lovely Mary."

As Mary watched the display in rapt delight, the Professor pulled a small velvet box out of his pocket, and opened it. Holding it out to Mary, he whispered, "Darling, will you marry me?"

Mary, distracted by the light show above, looked down at the ring in the Professor's hand. "Oh my. Of course I'll marry you Charles! I've been waiting for you to ask me ever since we met last year!"

The Professor, smiling and with tears in his eyes, slipped the ring on Mary's finger. "In that case my love, press the small pink button on the side of the box facing you."

Mary pressed the button, and the giant heart floating above their heads faded out, to be replaced by the image of a pair of doves, with the words "She said yes!" circling around them.

Cheers rang out from the hitherto hidden crowds on both banks of the river, and church bells could be heard in the distance.

"Oh Charles, you rascal!" Mary exclaimed, as the Professor began rowing towards shore.

Rick Davies snapped his phone shut. "Well, that's done. I had to pull a few strings, but I managed to wrangle reservations at In Front for tomorrow night at eight. But we only have an hour there, because somebody else booked the entire place starting at nine for a private party."

"Good job kid. Did they say who the party was booked by?" Detective Freitag asked with a gleam in his eye.

"Actually, they did. And they asked me to tell you that the flower arrangements just arrived, and they look perfect." Davies laughed as he continued, "What are you up to, you old dog?"

Freitag looked misty-eyed for a moment before answering. "Well, it's not just Valentine's Day tomorrow. It's also the thirtieth anniversary of the day I proposed to Connie. Since you're gonna pop the question to Caitlin anyway, why don't you two join us?"

"Thanks man, that'd be perfect," Davies said, his eyes practically glowing. "But you know, it doesn't seem right, us planning to spend Valentine's Day with the women we love, while Charles sits out there worrying over his fiancée. I wish we could do something for him."

"Gentlemen, I believe I have a partial solution for that very problem." a voice said from the doorway of Davies' office.

Both men turned around to see Brighid Moreira, the City Representative standing there, holding a thick file folder.

"And the name of that solution is the Defenders of Time."

---

*scratches chin* I like. Though I'm going to be disapprove if Statesman turns out to have been the bad guy.

Unless it was an evil clone of Statesman, then it's ok.

Either way, continue please.

---

Statesman said let there be heroes, and there were heroes.

Lord Recluse said let there be villains, and there were villains.

NCsoft said let there be nothing, and there was nothing.

((Ask and you shall receive! By the way, we love feedback. :P So, y'know, if you have a comment on the story...comment away!))

Chapter Five: The Letter

Officer Freitag entered Rick Davies’ office while talking on his cellphone. “Yeah, I understand. I’ll be right there just as soon as I wrap up some business at D.A.T.A.”

Davies looked up from his desk. “Something wrong, Chief?”

“You could say that. Apparently a technician named Henry Barnes has gone missing over at the Portal Corporation. Normally Detective McLord would handle this, but I’m being called in because this Barnes character was studying our friend’s case,” Frietag grimaced. “Seems that not only is he missing, but all the research he was doing for Charlie is gone too.”

“Well, I don’t mean to make your day go any worse, but something came in the mail today for the Professor, and I figured you’d like to know about it before I give it to him,” Davies said as he reached Freitag an envelope, and several printouts.

Freitag looked at the envelope in his hand as if he expected it to bite him. “New Haven postmark. I’m assuming you tested it to make sure it’s not going to explode, or poison us?”

“Standard procedure for all mail coming from the Rogue Isles, Chief. Full scan with every detector we have, including a couple of psychics from M.A.G.I. It came up clean,” Davies replied,

“But what worries me is the letter itself.”

“You do realize that we’re breaking the law by reading Charlie’s mail don’t you?” Freitag looked squarely at Davies.

Davies grinned, “Yeah, but are you going to arrest me, or aren’t you curious about that letter too?”

Freitag browsed the printouts, which included phychostatic copies of the still-sealed letter. “This new technology gives me the creeps. Who ever thought we’d be able to read a letter without opening it?”

Davies gestured at the printouts. “Just read it, and see if you think we should let him have it or not.”

Freitag sat down in a nearby chair, and started to read the very feminine handwriting...

-----------------------------------------

Seventh day of March, in the Two Thousandth and Eighth Year of Our Lord

My Dearest Charles,

I trust this letter finds you in good health.

You mustn’t worry about me. I am quite safe and am now delighted to learn that I am not alone in this fascinating new time. My host, Lord Richter, recently learned of your arrival in this world as well, and suggested I write to you so that you would know what happened to me, and that I am safe.

After the rather unsettling incident in your laboratory, I found myself staring up at the most amazing thing: A large, clear globe in which rotated several metallic spheres. I must admit, I was fascinated by it, and must have looked quite the rube as I stared. I was then interrupted in a most unseemly fashion by a number of men in uniform. I was rather frightened, and put out, as they were quite a bit rougher with me than was strictly necessary. They brought me to Lord Richter, who explained the situation and apologized for his men’s handling of it. It seems they thought I was one of the ruffians from a nearby place called Paragon City. Since said ruffians are in the habit of attempting to interrupt the peaceful life of Lord Richter’s people, his men are prone to acting first, and questioning later - to preserve the peace.

I have been his guest since then. He has graciously allowed me the run of his lovely estate, including his most impressive library! This home is completely electric, my love! And the things they have built! Tiny boxes that cook in an instant! Machines that do laundry without getting one’s hands damp! The people of this time must have lives of complete leisure with such automated luxuries!

Unfortunately, with Paragon City constantly sending scoundrels and thieves to this peaceful island, it is not safe for a woman to leave the estate without protection. Therefore, Lord Richter has asked that rather than risk myself trying to find you, I extend his invitation for you to visit his estate!

I have missed you so, and our work together. I wait anxiously for your reply, and your arrival.

With all my love,

Miss Mary Cottington

Postscript

I have included instructions for your response. Lord Richter sends his apologies for the rather convoluted plan, but it is so very important to him to keep his people safe from the depredations of Paragon City, that he feels such measures are, unfortunately necessary.

-----------------------------------------

As Freitag finished reading the letter, the Professor wandered in, carrying a large manila folder. “Afternoon, gentlemen. Richard, here is the paperwork on materials I need for the Defenders’ new base. By the way, has there been any mail for me recently?”

Davies and Freitag glanced nervously at each other without answering…

---

What can I say? Excellent writing style, imagery is vivid and colorful, I feel drawn to the characters, they are portrayed true to vision, grammar is good, word choice is alive and varied, format makes for easy, effortless reading...I really can't find any fault with this. Sure, I have precedent, and someone who doesn't play this game would probably be lost here and there, but all in all it's just a very neat story that I'm very much enjoying the reading of.

---

"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi

Characters

[ QUOTE ]
*scratches chin* I like. Though I'm going to be disapprove if Statesman turns out to have been the bad guy.

Unless it was an evil clone of Statesman, then it's ok.

Either way, continue please.

[/ QUOTE ]

I'll say this, Khell, it's something like a clone... Something like Tyrant, too, but not exactly either.

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

Assuming this is the same story that's on the protector fiction site, I know how it ends and it is awesome.

---

[Admin] Emperor Marcus Cole: STOP!
[Admin] Emperor Marcus Cole: WAIT ONE SECOND!
[Admin] Emperor Marcus Cole: WHAT IS A SEAGULL DOING ON MY THRONE!?!?

It is, so don't spoil it.

This was originally up in the Protector boards, but it got purged, so it's being reposted here for posterity.

---

The Abrams is one of the most effective war machines on the planet. - R. Lee Ermy.

Q: How do you wreck an Abrams?

A: You crash into another one.

Not spoiling it. Just saying it is awesome.

---

[Admin] Emperor Marcus Cole: STOP!
[Admin] Emperor Marcus Cole: WAIT ONE SECOND!
[Admin] Emperor Marcus Cole: WHAT IS A SEAGULL DOING ON MY THRONE!?!?

((Posterity and because I don't have the words to explain why the Saga is so fantastic without posting it. >.>; ))

Chapter Six: Through The Looking Glass

“Okay people, the portal goes live in three minutes! Everyone take your positions, and be ready to bring our group home.” Lieutenant Colonel Flynn barked into the microphone, his voice echoing into the large lab below.

Technicians were scurrying around, checking consoles, adjusting cable feeds, and monitoring the large portal machinery as it slowly started to spin up.

Major Semiens, Flynn’s Adjutant approached, carrying a clipboard. “Sir, shall we call in more troops, just in case something goes wrong?”

“No need Major. We’re just recalling the investigation team from Gamma Phi 31-7. It seemed peaceful enough when we sent the team out, so I think we’ll be fine with the men we have down there now.”

Semiens consulted his clipboard. “Gamma Phi 31-7. Isn’t that the dimension…”

Flynn answered without taking his eyes from the activity down on the main floor. “Yes Major. That’s the dimension Professor Winthrop and his lady friend are from. We’re still trying to figure out how they came from that world’s past to our present-day in one hop. Barnes has some ideas about how it could be done, but since he’s gone missing, well, we have to figure it out for ourselves. Speaking of which, has there been any word?”

“None yet, sir. The police are still looking, as well as both Longbow and Vanguard, in case he’s been kidnapped by any enemy groups,” Semiens said, looking over another file on his clipboard.

“Damn. He knows more about this specific case than all the rest of our technicians put together. We’ve got to find him if there’s ever going to be a chance…” Flynn was suddenly interrupted by a klaxon sounding down on the lab floor. He grabbed the microphone and shouted into it, “This is it! Retrieval team stand by!”

As the portal started spinning faster, a pearlescent fog began coalescing in the center of it. Shapes could be seen through the fog, moving closer to the entrance.

Suddenly, a massive bolt of electricity erupted from the portal, striking one of the military guards square in the chest, and knocking him across the room. Alarms began to sound, as a voice calmly said “Medical crews to Portal Bay Sixteen. Repeat: Medical crews to Portal Bay Sixteen.”

As the remaining troops started firing into the portal, a lone soldier came flying out from the other dimension, and rolled down the ramp, landing in a bloody heap. As he began crawling out of the way, he was quickly followed by a hulking shape standing over nine feet tall.

Flynn practically screamed into the microphone “Shut that thing down, now! Send in more troops immediately!”

As the troops fired at the hulking object, a medical team collected both of the injured soldiers, and hustled them out of harm’s way.

The Portal began spinning down, slowly coming to a stop, as the fog cleared.

More troops poured in from both sides of the lab, all shooting at the hulking shape making its way down the ramp. As it reached the foot of the ramp, the deadly hail of bullets finally took its toll, and the shape crashed to the floor with a metallic sounding crunch.

“What in the hell is that?” Flynn screamed at the people below.

After a brief examination, under the watchful eyes and ever-ready guns of the troops, the technicians called up to the control booth with an answer.

“Sir, at first, we thought it was a Nemesis Warhulk. But it appears to be piloted by Clockwork of some kind.”

Flynn’s eyes narrowed as news of this discovery sank in.

“Semiens, get over to Medical, and keep me informed on the status of the man we recovered. I want to know the minute that soldier wakes up.”

“Yes sir.” Semiens replied, and hurried from the room.

Several hours later, in the secure wing of Aquarius Medical, two nurses are discussing their latest patient, and his awe-inspiring visitor.

“Whatever he went through must have been absolutely terrifying! And his clothes! They were ripped to shreds!” the first nurse exclaimed.

The second nurse nodded her head in agreement, “He’s lucky, that’s for sure. And having one of the city’s greatest heroes waiting in his room for him to wake up… What an honor!”

As the soldier’s slowly awakened, he noticed a shape standing by his bed in the dim light of the room.

His eyes focused on a red and blue uniform, as he tried to sit up. “Sir! Is it really you? I’ve got to warn someone! I’ve got to tell them what we…”

“Easy son. Everything’s going to be fine,” the familiar form said, as sparks started leaping from his hands. “Everything’s going to be just fine.”

---

I thought I recognized the name from somewhere...

Also: It's an alternate dimension clockwork Nemesis automaton of Statesman?

---

Statesman said let there be heroes, and there were heroes.

Lord Recluse said let there be villains, and there were villains.

NCsoft said let there be nothing, and there was nothing.

No. Stop guessing. You'll spoil yourself.

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

Khell! Shaddup! If you give the ending away so help me!

And Kyo..

Give me MOAR NAO!! :P

---

Self-Proclaimed Number one Fanboi of the RP Forums and it's writers.

Me: How about "Zeus, The Pimp God"?

A friend: It'd be too hard to dress him up like a bull

I must echo the want for more of Charlie's saga again.

...

And no, I didn't work on Merc's story >.>

---

Global - @El D

Servers - Protector

((Okay, this chapter is a sad one for Valentine's Day. You have been warned!))

Chapter Seven: Reunited

Professor Charles Winthrop, better known as Steampunk
Charlie, sat at the table in the noisy nightclub, looking slightly stunned. Flashing lights, loud thumping music, and strangely dressed people assailed his senses. But through it all, he remained as composed as always.

Sitting across from him, the immaculately dressed DJ Zero watched the Professor with a well trained eye. “It’s gonna be okay, Chuck. Just stay calm. After all, she knows you’re here waiting for her.”

“Mister Zero, please do not call me ‘Chuck’. And I am quite calm, thank you very much.” The Professor snapped, as his hands visibly shook on the table between them. “I am simply a bit anxious at seeing Mary again after all these months.”

“Man, that’s wild. Here you’ve been trying to get a rescue operation going to get her back, and all this time all you had to do was show up here. When Ricky called me asking if I’d set up a meeting for you, I was floored. But I’m always glad to help out a Hero.” Zero grinned at the Professor. “So how’d you guys come up with this plan, anyway?”

The Professor’s eyes glazed over for just a moment, as he thought back over the events of the past few days. He was working in the laboratory of the Defenders new base when Rick Davies called him, saying that a strange letter had arrived at D.A.T.A.’s office for him. He hurried over, to find that it was a handwritten note from Mary, asking him to meet her at a club called Pocket D. Davies had immediately called DJ Zero, pulling strings to get a membership pass for the Professor. DJ Zero had gone out of his way though, and given the reluctant Hero a full access VIP pass, and agreed to arrange a bit of extra privacy and security for the couple’s long-awaited reunion.

As the Professor related this information to Zero, the DJ’s smile grew even wider. “Unless I miss my guess, Chuck, there she is now.” He motioned over the Professor’s shoulder, towards the elevator.

The Professor spun around quickly, and jumped up out of his chair. It was! Walking towards him was Miss Mary Cottington, as beautiful as the first day he ever laid eyes upon her. The world around him seemed to fade away, leaving only the image of Mary, reunited with Charles, at long last!

As Mary reached them, DJ Zero laid his hand on the Professor’s shoulder. “I’ll give you two a bit of privacy. If you need anything, just ask. I’ll be nearby.” With that, Zero lifted off the floor, and hovered up to the top of the gigantic speaker stack in the middle of the dance floor. From that unique vantage point, he could monitor all the goings-on in his club, but be nearby in
case anything went wrong.

Mary reached her hands out to the Professor. “Hello Charles, darling. How are you?”

The Professor took hold of Mary’s hands. “My beautiful Mary! Oh, how I’ve missed you! Not a single day has passed that I haven’t tried to come up with a way to rescue you! And here my wonderful, intelligent, beautiful fiancée has found a way to rescue herself! I couldn’t be happier!”

Mary smiled as she looked at the Professor, who had tears of joy shining in his eyes. “Charles, dear, there is something we must discuss. You see, I arranged this meeting to tell you something very important.”

“Oh, of course! I’m terribly sorry, my darling. I seem to have lost all my wits. Please, let us sit and talk,” he rambled, as he pulled out a chair for Mary, and then sat down across from her at the table. “Would you care for some refreshment?”

Mary composed herself for a moment before answering. “No, thank you, Charles. I can’t stay for more than a moment. I really just came to say that, well, it’s over between us. I’ve been seeing what you have been up to over in Paragon City on the television machine, and in the newspapers. And I just can’t bring myself to marry a man who would debase himself by carousing with such questionable people.”

Mary stood up, as the Professor sat there, pole axed.

“Goodbye, Charles. I don’t think we shall see each other again,” she said, as she turned and made her way back to the elevator.

As she left, DJ Zero came floating back down, and put his arm around the Professor’s shoulders. “That’s a tough break, Chuck. Everything I’d heard made her sound a hell of a lot classier than that. Anything I can do for you?”

The Professor, instead of replying, simply slumped in his chair, and began openly sobbing into his hands.

On the balcony above the seating area, two shadowy figures quietly discussed the scene taking place before them.

“Do you think he fell for it?”

“Oh, yeah. Hook, line, and sinker. Now the real work begins.”

---

Chapter Eight: The Brigade Strikes!

Professor Charles Winthrop worked feverishly in the workshop, running from laboratory bench to equipment rack to fabrication table, building and experimenting at a frightening pace. The only sign that anything was different this time, as opposed to his regular routine was the telltale greenish-yellow glow about his arms and legs, showing that he had convinced some other Hero to administer a hyperactivity “speed-boost” upon him.

Normally, this would not be a problem, but as two of the members of his team watching him from the doorway, the celebrated Defenders of Time, knew, he had been in this state for nearly a week.

“The old man’s still at it,” quipped the red and silver armored Airborne Avenger, glancing at his friend.

“Yes, and if he doesn’t stop this foolishness soon, he may end up burning himself out,” replied the mystic Thommn, watching the Professor speed around the lab. “Who boosted him this time?”

“No clue. Probably whoever was near the Base Portal when the last boost wore out. Personally, I think it’s time we put a stop to it.”

After a few minutes, the glow began to fade, and the Professor began to visibly slow down.

“His boost is about to give out. I believe it is time we stopped him, before he brings harm to himself,” said Thommn.

Airborne Avenger looked towards his mystic companion. “You’re right. Let’s grab him by the base portal.”

When the Professor noticed his speed boost wearing off, he set down the components he was working on, and headed out of the workshop towards the lobby. He was certain he could find a hero nearby to re-boost him. Seeing his fellow Defenders standing between himself and the portal drew him up short.

“Hello friends. No time to stop and chat right now. I need to run out and pick something up so I can finish this project I’m working o…” He was quite startled when, without saying a word, both Airborne Avenger and Thommn grabbed his arms. “What are you two doing? Unhand me this instant!”

A voice behind them caused the Professor to stop struggling.

“Charles, we’re worried about you. You’ve been working yourself into a frenzy for nothing,” said the diminutive but powerful Sally Burns. “Please, let us help you,” she finished, as she reached around the Professor, and removed his tesseract belt.

Airborne Avenger looked down at the tiny heroine. “Got it Sal?”
“Yes, and I’ll go lock it into the vault so he can’t get into any more mischief for a bit,” she replied, as she fluttered off towards the workshop.

“Why are you doing this to me? Have you all gone insane?” the Professor sputtered, as his teammates dragged him forcibly towards the base portal. “I need my belt! Without it, I can’t access any of my equipment! And if you toss me outside, I can’t get back in without it!”

“Exactly, old friend. We’re going to make you take a break for a while. You need the rest,” Thommn grinned briefly. “Or would you rather be turned into a frog?”

Sally Burns came fluttering back into the lobby. “Besides Charles, it’s only for a few hours. I promise, I will personally bring your belt back to you in just a bit,” She smiled up at him sweetly. “But, only after you’ve gone for a walk, and gotten some sunshine. You still have your communicator, so if you really need us, just give a call.”

The three Heroes shoved the Professor through the portal, and watched on the remote monitor as he unceremoniously landed in a heap just outside Atlas Plaza.

“Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?” Airborne Avenger asked, watching the Professor pick himself up and dust off his clothing.

Sally Burns, the “den mother” of the Group answered immediately. “Yes. After what that horrid woman did to him, working himself to death isn’t going to do anyone any good. He needs rest, and time to sort things out.”

As Professor Winthrop walked across the Plaza towards his favorite “brooding spot” under the statue of Atlas, he failed to notice the crowd of Heroes and civilians gathered around, most of which were staring at him, muttering to each other as he passed.

He sat down with his back against Atlas’ left foot, and closed his eyes, resting in the bright sunshine for the first time in several days. Perhaps his friends were right; he was pushing himself far too hard, trying to keep his mind off Mary, and what she had said to him.

Had Lord Recluse brainwashed Mary so thoroughly that she honestly believed that her fiancée was some sort of villain? Could anyone have that powerful a grip on the human mind? And if so, what did that hold in store for anyone else the supreme ruler of the Rogue Isles got his taloned grips into?

As he sat there basking in the warmth of the sun, a shadow crossed over his face. “Probably a civilian wanting another autograph,” he thought, not hearing the surprised mutterings of the crowd around him.

He opened his eyes slowly, and looked up at the person standing before him, who looked quite a bit like Mary. For that matter, several of the people standing around him looked surprisingly similar to Mary. In fact, they could almost be identical copies!

He rose quickly to his feet, visibly disturbed by the sight before him. A veritable phalanx of “Marys”! Was he going out of his mind? Was this an attack by some insidious new villain? Or perhaps the effects of being continually speed-boosted for nearly a week?

“Professor Charles Edward Winthrop, I presume?” the young lady standing before him, her hands on her hips, asked. “We are the Mary Brigade, and we’re here to help you,” she said, a slight grin moving across her face.

---

Chapter Nine: Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary

“Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?” the Professor muttered under his breath as he eyed the bevy of identical young women before him.

All the girls giggled at this, and then their apparent leader replied, “With silver bells, and cockle shells, and pretty maids all in a row.” She gestured to the girls standing to either side of her as she said the last line of the famous poem. “Of course, I’m sure you have a lot more serious questions than that.”

The Professor looked perplexed for a moment. “Yes, quite a few, actually. But where are my manners? I’d offer you ladies a seat, but while Atlas’ foot is quite to my liking, proper young ladies such as yourselves deserve better accommodations. Shall we retire to a nearby establishment for lunch?”

As the Professor and his new acquaintances left the Plaza, Rick Davies was watching their every movement from his office, a bemused look upon his face. “Looks like things just got a lot more interesting for old Charlie. Sarah,” he called to his secretary, “Can you get me the file on a newly formed Hero group called the Mary Brigade?”

However, Davies wasn’t the only person watching the group make its way to lunch, and other eyes that were watching weren’t quite so benevolent…

Over lunch, at the Up-and-Away Burger (the Professor had protested greatly, but as is usual, the majority ruled), the Marys had answered most of his questions.

“One thing that I don’t quite understand,” the Professor asked, dabbing this mouth with the paper napkin, “You say that you are all registered super heroines who decided to band together after reading about my small misfortune in the newspaper. But why? It’s obvious that my fiancée is under some form of mind control by Lord Recluse. Once I rescue her it will be a simple enough matter to correct this. Why base your entire careers upon such an insignificant event?”

“Because we know that you can’t do it alone. Besides we have some information that you’ll find very interesting,” Mary 637 answered immediately. “You see, we know for a fact, that the woman you met in Pocket D was not your fiancée.”

“Oh, and I suppose it was one of you, then? And all this is just a ruse to spirit me away to some villainous lair?” the Professor asked, trying to stifle a laugh.

Mary 952 leaned past the professor to snatch up the salt shaker. “No, Professor, we hadn’t even thought of forming the Brigade at the time. But a few of us, namely 637, 826, 574, 448, and I were there when your meeting took place. And as for spiriting you away, we may look like defenseless girls to you, but…”

She held the salt shaker out on the palm of her hand, and gestured towards Mary 574. 574 hesitated for just an instant, before twin beams of brilliant light shot out of her eyes and vaporized the salt shaker completely.

The Professor paled considerably. All the girls giggled for a moment, and then Mary 448 said, “But like 637 said, we’re here to help you. If you’ll let us, that is.”

“So all you young ladies have been gifted with super-powers?” the Professor asked, recovering quickly.

Mary 826 was quick to reply, “Well, we weren’t all, like, born with them or anything, but 637’s dad is the technological genius, Adrian O’Brien. You know, Captain My...Ouch!”

She was silenced by a quick jab in the ribs Mary 574, who angrily whispered, “Secret identities, remember?”

“My father is a technological marvel who agreed to help us out by supplying us with a few devices for the girls who have no super powers,” Mary 637 quickly finished. “But, there’s something bigger we need to discuss. Girls, a bit of privacy please?”

The other members of the Brigade quickly stood up, grabbed their trays off the table, and left, standing just outside the restaurant.

After a few moments, 637 continued. “You see, like I was saying, a few of us were at the club that night, up on the balcony. And we noticed something. First, if that was the real Mary, why did she come into the club from the Blue door? Getting there from the Rogue Isles, she would have entered through the Red door instead. So whoever that was, they were from here in Paragon City! And, on top of that, I overheard a couple of men talking after she left. You were set up, Professor, by the two men who have helped you the most!”

---

Chapter Ten: Betrayal and Forgiveness

Steampunk Charlie wasn’t mad. Far from it. He was royally pissed. In fact, you could almost go so far as to say he was “steamed,” if you were the type of person to use such horrible puns in pleasant company.

Upon receiving word from Mary 637 of the Mary Brigade that the people who had betrayed him were in fact his old friends Rick Davies and Officer Freitag, the Professor wasted no time in heading to Davies’ office, after, of course, a quick stop by the Defenders Base to retrieve his tesseract belt.

Arriving at Davies’ office, he found the administrator of D.A.T.A. poring over activity reports.

“Plotting my next downfall, Richard?” the Professor asked.

“Professor! It’s good to see you! What can you tell me about this new super group you met today? Aside from their Hero registration data, we don’t have much on them yet, and I...”

Davies was quickly cut off as the Professor pressed a stud on his belt buckle, activating the tesseract armor for his costume. However, instead of the usual top hat and driving coat, a much heavier, bulkier, more menacing version of Charlie’s steampunk armor emerged, encasing him immediately.

Davies’ eyes grew wide, with a mixture of admiration, and just a touch of fear. “Wow Professor, that looks…fantastic! I never had any idea you were working on a suit of heavy duty armor!”

As wisps of steam started appearing around the joints of the armor, Charlie spoke. “You also had no idea that I would find out about your little plot to make me forget about Mary, did you.”

“What are you talking about Professor? Is something wrong?” Davies quickly began stammering.

Steampunk Charlie made a quick gesture, and a small ball of lightning coalesced into being next to his left shoulder. “Shocky Jed, this is Richard Davies. If he moves, incapacitate him, but nothing over about level four intensity, I think. I have a few questions for our dear friend.” The ball moved towards Davies, and hovered just inches away, pulsing almost as if it were alive.

Davies eased his hand towards a drawer in his desk, only to receive a sudden streak of electricity from the glowing orb. With a yelp, he jerked his hand back immediately.

“I’d suggest you sit quite still, Richard. Shocky Jed is quite literal in following my instructions. Now then, I do believe it’s time you explained yourself.”

Davies rubbed at the scorch mark and stared at the steam-powered Hero. “Professor, what has gotten into you?”

Steampunk Charlie folded his arms across his chest and stared at Davies. “Your little plot to make me forget about my fiancée and begin trying to rebuild the Interocitor was overheard, Richard. Mary 637 told me everything, and Mister Zero at the club confirmed it. In fact, he even had it on video. If that blasted machine meant so much to you, why didn’t you just ask me to start right away trying to rebuild it?”

“Professor, please! You have to understand! We need that Interocitor immediately! But the staff psychologists said that you were about to go off on your own to rescue Mary! If you had done that, you’d never survive! And we need you! Between Lord Recluse and his people attacking, and the Rikti invasions, Paragon City is falling apart at the seams. Freitag and I acted in your best interests, honest! Once we have a working Interocitor, we can put an end to the invasions, and deal with Recluse! And that will allow us to get you home safe and sound, with Mary!” The beleaguered director looked quite remorseful.

The Galvanized Hero stood there for a moment, thinking. Then, with another gesture, his armor collapsed back in upon itself, revealing the immaculately pressed suit the Professor always wore. “Shocky Jed” faded from sight. “Very well, Richard. I wouldn’t be able to call myself a gentleman, much less a Hero if I didn’t give you the benefit of the doubt.”

Davies stood up, a wide grin crossing his face. “Sure thing, Professor. Still friends?” he asked, holding his hand out towards the Professor.

“Of course, Richard,” the Professor said as he shook hands with the young man. “And I’m terribly sorry for Jed shocking you. It still needs a bit of refinement.”

Davies grinned. “How about we head over to the lab, and work on that? And you can show me what else this new armor of yours can do. While we’re at it, what do you need to get started on the Interocitor?”

As the men headed out the door, the Professor replied, “Well, the first thing is to procure a copy of the book: Electronic Service, Unit Number Sixteen. Once we have that, we can probably begin fabricating components right away.”

A few minutes later, Officer Freitag and Rick Davies walked into the now vacant office.

Davies seemed quite disturbed. “I dunno chief. I’ve not seen the Professor since this ‘Mary Brigade’ showed up. And the only info we have on them is their Hero Registration files. Do you think this is a new plot by Recluse?”

“Actually, I think old Charlie has just gotten himself a fan club. After we screwed up the other night at the club, it’s the best thing for him. Give him a few days, and he’ll be right back to work. Even a Hero needs some time off,” the Detective said with a slight grin. “Besides, this city always needs more Heroes. Say, do you smell ozone? Smells like something electrical shorted out in here.”

---

Chapter Eleven: Hide and Seek

Three weeks, five days, and seventeen hours. In that amount of time, Steampunk Charlie had visited a total of two-hundred and ninety-four different dimensions, looking for a copy of a book: Electronic Service, Unit #16. The book that would allow Charlie to rebuild the Interocitor, the device which had flung his fiancée and himself from the year 1883 in his home dimension of Gamma Phi 31-7 to present-day Paragon City.

As he stepped from the portal back into the laboratory at Portal Corporation, a voice blared out from the loudspeakers.

“Exploration trip number 294, Epsilon Delta 44-8 complete. Any luck Charlie?”

Charlie recognized the voice as that of Major Semiens, who had been there just as long as the weary Hero, and sounded just as tired.

“No luck so far. Just a few million more Clockwork roaming around a deserted city,” the weary Hero called back. “Would you care to tell me why we can’t just open a portal to my original dimension? I’m certain the book would have survived a hundred-odd years with no problems at all.”

Tina Macintyre walked over to where Charlie was sitting on the ramp leading to the Portal, her recovery team in tow. “Sorry Charlie, but the coordinates to Gamma Phi 31-7 have been lost to us ever since Barnes disappeared, months ago. We keep trying to recover them, but the computers keep telling us that there’s no such place. The good news, though, is thanks to your efforts, we have a much more complete map of the surrounding dimensions. That is of immense value to us, even if you never do find the book.”

“Well, that’s all fine and good, but we need the book if I’m to ever rebuild the Interocitor. But for now, my armor needs recharging and repairs, and quite frankly, I need a rest,” he said, as he pressed a button on his belt, changing back into Professor Winthrop. “I haven’t even seen my Group in a week! And while I’m sure they’re doing fine without me, I miss my friends. Are you certain that they can’t come along on a few of these expeditions? More people searching would make things go much faster.”

Major Semiens, walking down the ramp from the observation booth, was quick to reply. “I’m sorry Professor, but as you know, we’ve had to place a Top Secret classification on this project. Statesman himself requested that we give it the highest priority possible. So until we get an accurate copy of the book, you’ll just have to keep searching on your own.”

The Professor walked over to a table where all the “inaccurate copies” from his previous dimension-hopping trips were laid out. Titles ranging from “Electronic Service, Unit #4” all the way to “Electruneec Serfeece-a, Uneet Noomber Seexateee, Bork Bork Bork” (And wasn’t that a strange world! Completely populated by beings made of felt!). But none of them contained the instructions so desperately needed.

Macintyre placed her hand on the Professor’s shoulder. “Go home and get some rest. We need to recalibrate the equipment for the next series of runs anyway. Take a few days, and we’ll pick this back up when you get back.”

The weary Professor gave a sigh. “That’s exactly what I intend to do. Would Monday be too soon to start searching again?”
Semiens checked his ever-present clipboard. “No, actually, that would be just about right. We’ll have the equipment ready, and you’ll have time to make any needed repairs. Shall we say 9 a.m.?”

Later that evening, a shadowy figure moved among the consoles in the secured lab. After a few minutes, the Portal opened up, and two tall, metal-clad figures stepped through.

“Are things progressing according to plan?” one of the beings asked.

The shadowy figure approached the two, kneeling at their feet. “Yes, fathers, all is on schedule. This world will fall beneath your might very shortly.”

The second figure laid its hand upon the subject’s head. At this touch, the kneeling figure’s very form shifted. Changing size, shape, and color. Shifting like water from a lab coat, to red and blue spandex, to military khaki, to brass and rust, and back. “You have done well, our son. And you will be rewarded for all your hard work. Keep us informed.”

The two beings turned and made their way back through the Portal, leaving the figure kneeling on the ramp.

As the Portal closed back in upon itself, the figure rose. “Yes fathers, and as soon as I have taken over this world, I will return to our home and destroy you both. Both worlds shall be mine, instead of being ruled by weak fleshlings such as yourselves!”

Unbeknownst to the figure, an observer, high up in the rafters of the ceiling was watching. With nary a sound, the observer pressed a button on their belt, and disappeared through a teleportation aperture.

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