#Doomspire is not a robot. I swear
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*+ Daybreak: Hometown Hero +*
Prompt: a theatrical supervillain runs into his greatest threat, a hero who couldn't care less.
Prompt By: Me (ToonMan)
Started Writing: 05/03/2024
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A figure sits on a throne, surrounded by dimly lit screens. Its metallic claws rhythmically tap on the armrests. A long, synthetic sigh echoes through the darkness. The figure presses a button on the armrest.
“Status report,” groans the figure.
“My Lord,” answers a robotic voice over a speaker. “The last of your audience are arriving as we speak. Should we prepare for your arrival, my lord?”
“No need,” says the figure, “My presence alone should do well enough. Just ensure that this remains a private showing.”
“Yes, my—” The figure cuts the audio. They slowly rise from their throne, and wires and cords connecting the figure to the throne are unplugged and retracted into the seat. A long, flowing cape deploys from the figure's upper back, stopping just above the ground. Their heavy footsteps shake the entire room as they walk. A door slides open.
A seven-foot humanoid robot wearing dark silver and black armor and a matching black cape exits from inside a heavily armored carrier into the midwestern night. He takes one step off the vehicle's platform and immediately loses a metal boot to a deep mud puddle.
“Ahhh! What in the…Grunt!” yells the metal man. From the roof of the armored vehicle, two cylinders open up and launch a pair of light silver pods into the air. The two pods transform into plain silver, skinny, faceless, humanoid robots. The grunts land and lift the metal man from the mud hole with a now mud-caked boot. “Ugh! And I just had my armor polished! Grunt!”
“Yes, my lord!” the two drones announce as their hands transform into polishers and hoses. The grunts get on their knees and frantically clean their lord's boot until it looks brand new. The metal man looks down at his boot, giving it a brief inspection.
“My Grunt—" says the metal man. The grunts look up at their lord with glee. The metal man grabs one of the grunts by the head, effortlessly crushing it in his hand. “Why were you not already here, waiting and ready to prevent such an embarrassment?!”
“My Lord,” says the grunt, bowing to the floor, “I do not deserve your forgiveness! I should have scanned the area for unfavorable terrain long before your arrival! Please, show me no mercy!” The metal man points his wrist at the grunt. A small laser deploys from a compartment in his forearm. After a short charge, a thin beam slices the grunt’s head from its neck, causing its body to go limp. The palm of the metal man’s hand glows purple, attracting the grunt’s still functioning head like a magnet.
“Continue to make such plebeian mistakes, and I won’t waste my time with your inferior vessels,” says the metal man.
“Y-yes, Lo-o-ord Doomspire!” says the grunt's head as Doomspire uses his magnet palm to crush the head into the size of a marble.
“Now, Grunt, take me to my audience proper,” demands Doomspire. More tubes open on top of the armored carrier and deploy multiple Gruntbots. The grunts then bow in a line, forming a bridge of bodies leading into a small town while others become light posts. “Adequate.” As Doomspire walks across his metallic minions, he notices the town welcome sign.
Fort Barton: A quiet town for loud folk
Doomspire deploys his forearm laser and slices the sign into charred chunks. “Grunt! Clean that up!”
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The bridge of Gruntbot bodies leads Doomspire to Fort Barton Elementary/Middle/ High School. Doomspire grabs one of the Gruntbots by the neck, lifting it above him at arm’s length.
“Grunt, why have you led me here?” asks Doomspire, “I believe I specified a list of locations that could handle the magnitude of my excellence!”
“My Lord, no apology will save me from your wrath,” says the Gruntbot. “My vessels failed to contain your audience within the city hall as well as all other government buildings. In my ignorance, I had them moved into the gymnasium of the school.” Doomspire gives the school a quick glance.
“Only faulty programming such as yours would classify this as an academic facility,” says Doomspire as he throws the Gruntbot away. “No matter, they’ve waited long enough.”
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Around eight hundred Fort Barton citizens quietly sit in the bleachers. Each citizen sat between a pair of Gruntbots like a checkerboard of robots and humans. A waitress with a nametag reading “Isa” sits with her head resting in her hands, propped up on her knees. One of the Gruntbots turns to face her.
“You shouldn’t slouch,” suggests the Gruntbot, “Lord Doomspire doesn’t respect bad posture.” Isa rolls her eyes. She tries to lean back, only to hit her back on the metal legs of the Gruntbot behind her. “Oh, I’m sorry. Are you ok?”
“I’m fine,” groans Isa as she rubs her back.
“Are you sure?” the Gruntbots persist. Lord Doomspire hates arriving to an incapacitated audience. Isa raises her eyebrows, looking toward the Gruntbot next to her.
“Well, my sister is a doctor,” says Isa, “but she lives a few states away. Can I use my phone real quick? Just for a quick diagnosis.” The Gruntbot just stares at Isa.
“I’m sorry, but your request would directly go against the word of my lord,” says the Gruntbot. Isa drops her façade, returning to her original position. “B-but I am up to date with all medical procedures, and my body is able to self-sterilize.”
“You’re an odd piece of junk,” says Isa, “anyone ever tell you that?”
“Lord Doomspire does, almost every day!” says the Gruntbot. “Just not as nicely as you did, but thank you nonetheless!” Isa buries her face in her hands again and groans. The gym lights dim, causing all the Gruntbots to sit up at attention. The Gruntbot next to Isa grabs her shoulder and forces her to sit up. “Wouldn’t want you to miss my lords’ entrance!”
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Two rows of Gruntbots march in through the gym doors onto the basketball court, forming a ring at its center. Gruntbots at the highest points of the bleachers stand up, transforming their heads into beacons, and start looking around the gym. A Gruntbot in the principal’s office plugs itself into the loudspeaker system and modulates its voice until it sounds like a wrestling announcer.
“Ladies, gentlemen, and variations thereupon,” says the Announcer Grunt. “You may now praise your deity of choice, for they have blessed you with a sight comparable to that of the heavenly kingdom. For today will forever be the greatest day of your life, branded into your soul as one you will never be able to recreate.” All the Spotlight Grunts focus on a spot on the ceiling above the ring of Gruntbots. Two purple lasers pierce through the ceiling, carving out a circle. The people in the stands brace for the disc to drop, but nothing immediately happens.
The disc slowly slides down until it slips free of the rest of the ceiling. Purple flames burst through the seams, startling the citizens. As the ceiling piece continues to float to the ground, the Gruntbots begin to cheer as Doomspire appears on top of the disk, arms crossed, jet pack flaring, and using mounting stabilizers on the sides of his feet to hold the disc up. Every citizen freezes to their seat at the sight of Doomspire. Some panic, others turn pail, and the others pass out, much to Doomspire’s joy.
The Gruntbots underneath Doomspire hold the disk up as he retracts his mounting stabilizers. Using his jetpack, Doomspire levitates off the disk and just above the floor.
“Former citizens of Fort Barton,” Announcer Grunt continues, “for his entertainment! If you value your lives! Please give a standing ovation for his divine vileness, Loooooooord Doooooomspire!" The gym becomes dead silent as fear overtakes the room. Doomspire lets out an exaggerated *AHEM* and all the Gruntbots turn to their respective human, slots opening on their faceplates to reveal bright, aggressive red eyes. The citizens of Fort Barton quickly stand up and applaud, and the Gruntbots return to normal and enthusiastically applaud as well.
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“Thank you, thank you,” Doomspire announces, his synthesized voice echoing throughout the gym as the applause dies down. “As you all very well know, I am Doomspire, the Plague of Planet Earth and archnemesis of the Imperium. Now, you may be asking what a legend such as myself is doing in this…lesser town. Grunt!” The four Spotlight Grunts widen their lenses, creating a holographic image of a grid map of the United States above Doomspire.
“Say hello to the Hero Network,” Doomspire continues, “this series of drones, surveillance tech, and the first responders creates a web that allows all hero organizations in the United States to know exactly what cat needs to be saved from what tree. This little web is no thicker than around Newa City.” The hologram zooms in on the Central United States and then overlays a thick web of lines and red dots on top of the map. “And surprise, surprise, this is the home of the hero group Imperium. Now, can anyone guess what that has to do with why I’m here?”
The gym stays silent. Doomspire looks around as citizens actively try to avoid his gaze.
“We live in a blackout.”
Doomspire jerks up, now looking around for whoever talked.
“Grunt, Who said that?” orders Doomspire.
“Here, my lord,” says the Gruntbots next to Isa as their bodies glow like glowsticks. Doomspire motions for the Gruntbots to bring Isa to him, and they oblige, basically dragging her there.
“Color me surprised,” says Doomspire, “a spine and two working brain cells. Quite a dangerous combination." Doomspire reaches out for Isa’s face. She instinctually backs away but still falls firmly into the villain's metallic grasp. “Ah, ah, ah, too late for stage fright, miss…?” Isa silently stares Doomspire down while trying to free herself. Doomspire notices her name tag before turning back toward the crowd.
“Miss Isa is correct!” Doomspire continues, “Your lovely little mud pit resides in one of the few dark spots of the hero network. And, conveniently enough, this dark spot is right in the Imperium’s backyard.” The hologram changes to show a small dark spot that the lines and red dots avoid. “After that little revelation, I figured it was time to move out of my beautiful volcanic lair, surrounded by a tropical paradise and clear blue ocean, and to the heart of hick country, surrounded by tick-infested mongrels & livestock.”
Doomspire nonchalantly throws Isa to the ground as he floats higher into the air. “Thankfully, I have a solution for that. Grunts!” The Gruntbots turn red again, their arms transforming into blades and laser guns.
“Wait!” yells Isa.
“Save your breath, Isa,” says Doomspire, “I already know what you’re going to say. Why do I have to kill you all? Can’t I just hold you hostage or force you into some kind of labor? No to both counts. First off, the idea that I need some insurance policy to protect myself is beneath me. Second, slavery is a cruel and inhumane act that does not belong in this day and age!” Isa, as well as the other citizens, look at Doomspire, confused. “I’m not completely amoral.” The Gruntbots charge their lasers.
“No! don’t you, uh, want to know why we’re in a blackout?” asks Isa.
“We’re in the middle of nowhere land,” says Doomspire, “I doubt there’s a cellphone within miles of this dump, but by all means, why do you think this blackout exists?” Thunder cracks in the distance, to the surprise of the Gruntbots and Doomspire. Before any of them can react, an object rips through the gym doors, tackling Doomspire out the other end, leaving Isa with a smug grin. A few seconds later, a figure dives through the hole in the ceiling and begins to fly around the room, destroying all the Gruntbots at high speed before even one could get a clean shot on it or hurt a civilian.
The figure lands in front of Isa, revealing it to be an older man in a black shirt, brown overalls, a green bomber jacket, boots, and motorcycle goggles. The man helps Isa to her feet.
“Anyone hurt?” asks the man.
“No,” answers Isa, “go get ‘em.” The man steps back under the hole and launches back into the night sky. A fit young woman runs down the bleachers with a group of other young adults in tow.
“Alright, people. You know the drill at this point,” yells the woman. Stick to your groups and get to the bunkers as quickly as possible.” The woman runs over to Isa, slaps her upside the head, and hugs her. Then, the two help direct civilians.
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Doomspire lies buried deep into a mile-long crater, breathing heavily.
“Grunt…What. Was. That,” demands Doomspire.
“I…I don’t know, my lord,” says Grunt inside Doomspire’s helmet.
“What do you mean you don’t know!” barks Doomspire. The sound of thunder booms echoes out from Fort Barton. “Forget it, prepare my wardrobe!” Doomspire stands up from the crater, his armor shifting, revealing streaks of purple light across his body. The flying man comes to a stop a few feet away from Doomspire. The villain dusts some dirt off his shoulder. “Congratulations, you landed a sucker punch. Don’t pat yourself on the back too hard.”
“Leave,” says the man.
“Oh! Cutting right to the chase I—” The man punches Doomspire right in the jaw, knocking him right back into the crater. “You…did you just hit me? In the middle of my sentence?!” The man hovers over Doomspire.
“Either leave or get kicked out,” says the man, “your choice.” In the distance, Doomspire sees a purple light growing. Doomspire chuckles as he picks himself up.
“I believe you already know my answer,” says Doomspire. “Now, who may I ask is doing the kicking?”
“Name’s Cyrus,” answers the man.
“That’s…rather plain for a hero name,” says Doomspire, “but no matter, you’ll fall all the same.” Cyrus sighs as he throws another punch at Doomspire, but the villain manages to catch it this time. “Ah, ah, ah, no more of that.” Cyrus throws a second punch, which is also caught by Doomspire. The villain responds by pulling Cyrus down to his level and Sparta kicking him in the chest, sending the hero flying back. As Cyrus slows himself down, he sees a purple metal case soar over him and toward Doomspire.
The case flies around Doomspire's back. The cables and wires in the back of his suit attach to ports on the case and pull it onto Doomspire’s. The case transforms into a set of mechanical wings while attaching two cannons to Doomspire’s arms.
“Wardrobe change complete, my lord,” says Grunt. “Vulcarus is ready to fly!” The metallic wings are quickly consumed by bright purple flames. Doomspire launches himself toward Cyrus, preparing a punch. Cyrus protects his face, but the hit still sends him flying back toward Fort Barton.
“Not so fun on the other end, huh?” yells Doomspire before taking off after the hero.
//////////
Cyrus recovers quickly and begins to fly upward with Doomspire hot on his trail. Doomspire fires blasts of flaming wax at Cyrus, forcing him to dodge.
“Grunt, Get me this fool’s information,” orders Doomspire.
“Already on it, my lord,” answers Grunt. “Sadly, initial searches have resulted in little gain. His name is Cyrus Oscar Karlo, he’s thirty-eight, his blood type is—”
“Grunt! You waste of code!” yells Doomspire, “get me his hero records!”
“Yes, my lord!” says Grunt. Doomspire manages to hit Cyrus in the arm. Cyrus lets out a short yell as he tries to shake off the burning wax. Unable to do so, Cyrus makes a sharp turn for a nearby lake. Doomspire, however, is unable to do the same and is forced to make a wide, relatively slower turn. Flying just above the lake, Cyrus plunges his hand into the water, quickly cooling off the wax, allowing him to break it off, revealing that it burned through some of his jacket sleeve.
“Great,” groans Cyrus. He looks up to see Doomspire diving right at him, firing more flaming wax. Cyrus quickly dives into the water. Doomspire slows to a stop a couple of stories above the lake.
“Oh no!” says Doomspire, “My enemy has retreated into the water where my weapons have no effect. Whatever shall I do?” Doomspire snaps his fingers, and another smaller case flies toward him. The wax cannon on his left arm folds back onto the wings as wires from the arm attach to the case. This case transforms, covering the entire arm in another layer of armor that resembles fish scales with a trident on the back of the hand.
As the armor is charged with energy, a bubble forms around Doomspire’s hand. He raises his hand, and the water from the lake begins to float upward. Doomspire then pulls his hand back toward himself, and the water becomes a rapid stream that flows toward him. Then, a ring of water forms around the villain. “Come on out, my little guppy.” Doomspire sees something race up the stream. “Gotcha!” Doomspire makes a pinching motion with his hand and isolates the object in its own water bubble.
“Impressive, isn’t it,” says Doomspire as he creates a path toward the bubble out of water. “My inventions, that is. Believe it or not, this is only a fraction of my true power.” Doomspire makes a fist, and the ball of water begins to freeze from the outside going in. “I will admit, you lasted longer than most of the lesser heroes I faced, but in the end, you’re still nothing more than an insect. Small, insignificant, and easily removed.” The ball of water freezes completely.
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“Umm, excuse me, my lord,” says Grunt, “about Cyrus—”
“Once again, Grunt,” says Doomspire, “you ruin my moment of triumph with your incompetence. Luckily for you, it no longer matters. Just add his records to my wall of victory.”
“I am ashamed to have failed you in such succession, my lord,” says Grunt, “Cyrus Karlo has no hero record.”
“So, a vigilante then, I care little for semantics,” says Doomspire.
“My lord,” says Grunt, “As far as the records go, Cyrus Karlo never had powers.”
Cyrus rockets out from the ring of water behind Doomspire, drop-kicking the villain in the back into the ball of ice.
“Impossible!” grunts Doomspire. He looks into the ball of Ice to find a bag of garbage at its center. Enraged, Doomspire tries to push himself free, but Cyrus keeps him pinned to the ice ball as the hero grabs the base of Doomspire’s wings, which are not on fire. Cyrus pulls at the wings to remove them but is proving unsuccessful. Meanwhile, Doomspire uses his hydrokinesis to turn the ring of water around him into ice spears.
Cyrus leaps backward before getting impaled, and Doomspire melts the ice spears with his wings. Doomspire turns to face Cyrus, melting the ball of ice and using the water to recreate the ring around himself. “Who are you?”
“I already told you,” answers Cyrus.
“Heh, heh, heh, this may seem like a contradiction given my profession,” says Doomspire, “but I’m not a fan of liars. So, who are you, really?”
“Someone who don’t like repeatin’ himself,” answers Cyrus. Doomspire’s wings erupt into a blaze.
“Fine then,” says Doomspire, “how about I tell you a little bit about who I am.” Doomspire snaps his fingers, and four more cases appear. Cyrus flies in for another attack. “I am one of the smartest people in the world—" Case one splits in two, creating leg armor with hip and calf missile launchers that fire, forcing Cyrus back. “I have killed more heroes than the roaches you call citizens in your garbage heap of a town—” Case two becomes armor for the right arm with a revolver barrel on the forearm.
When Cyrus dodges a missile by a few inches, Doomspire fires a purple energy beam that misses Cyrus, but it does latch onto the missile. Doomspire then pulls the missile back, having it hit Cyrus in the back and detonating. “I have taken on multiple iterations of the Imperium hero organization and beaten them all—” Case three attaches to Doomspire’s chest, opening to reveal a blacked-out bulb. “And while you may believe you’re some sort of a threat to me, you are truly not worth my full attention.”
The last case attaches Itself to the back of Doomspire’s head. As it transforms, it covers Doomspire’s eyes for a moment. Once Doomspire can see again, he’s met with another punch to the face from a slightly charred Cyrus, pushing him back a few feet. “But you are worth my full aggression.” The bulb on Doomspire’s chest glows red, spreading the energy across his armor.
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Doomspire fires five, now red, energy tethers from his revolver arm that Cyrus dodges only to end up hit in the chest by a block of ice. Doomspire then hits Cyrus with a flying knee, following up by blasting him point blank with his leg rockets and finishing by wrapping him up in the energy tether, electrocuting him, and then slinging him into the ground. Cyrus struggles to stay conscious, only barely noticing Doomspire coming at him fists first. Cyrus leaps out of the way, missing the attack but still getting hit with the shockwave, sending him tumbling across the ground.
Doomspire stands, chuckling maniacally as he waves away the dust cloud surrounding him.
“So—” Cyrus launches himself at Doomspire, aiming for his head. Doomspire reaches out his hand to stop the attack, but Cyrus rolls to the side away from Doomspire. And just as Cyrus passes Doomspire’s head, he breaks the sound barrier, hitting the villain with a sonic boom right next to his head. Doomspire yells in pain as the force knocks him back, almost off his feet. Cyrus turns around on a dime and goes in for another attack behind Doomspire.
Doomspire’s leg rocket launchers rotate to face Cyrus and fire more rockets. Cyrus weaves into the missile storm, trying desperately to stay on course. As he gets closer, Cyrus grabs one of the missiles out of the air and flings it at another that was just fired, creating another explosion and blasting Doomspire forward. Cyrus lands on Doomspire’s back, forcing him completely off balance and onto the ground. Just as the missiles are about to reach Cyrus, he flies straight up, causing a few missiles to collide with Doomspire while the rest continue to follow Cyrus.
Doomspire plants his now damaged hydro-arm into the ground before picking himself up. He summons more water from the lake and transforms it into a snake-like creature with rows of jagged ice teeth. Doomspire follows Cyrus with the water viper. Cyrus turns around and sees Doomspire and the water viper approaching quickly. He looks back towards the missiles before flying away in an entirely new direction.
Doomspire pulls ahead of the missiles and the water snake, firing more energy tethers at Cyrus. These tethers then split into smaller ones which Cyrus dodges as best as he can but is eventually grabbed by his arm and slowly pulled back.
“Give up, Cyrus!” yells Doomspire, “You’ve long lost your chance at escape!” Cyrus ignores Doomspire as he pushes through the pain and continues to fly faster. Doomspire struggles to keep up with his wings alone, only keeping up due to the energy beam. Doomspire sends forward the ice viper and amplifies the energy tether. Cyrus screams in pain, beginning to descend. He sees a shadow overhead and looks up to see the water viper diving at him.
Cyrus comes to a dead stop, letting the ice viper pass him, and then immediately speeds back up, going through the creature but also getting an intense hit of electrocution. Cyrus then grabs onto the beam, electrocuting himself further, and pulls Doomspire into the ice viper. Doomspire is then electrocuted, his wings are put out, and the energy tether and ice snake dematerialize.
Doomspire comes crashing into the ground, his suit drenched and its energy flickering. He looks up to see Cyrus flying at him again but manages to catch out of the air, holding him by the throat with his damaged hydro-arm.
“That’s enough!” yells Doomspire, “I will admit it has been fun, but this is your final act.” Cyrus’ eyes dart up behind Doomspire.
“Guess…so,” says Cyrus with a grin. Doomspire turns around to see a dozen of his missiles coming right for them. In that moment of shock, Cyrus manages to rip the damaged armor off Doomspire’s arm, freeing himself and manages to get a few feet away from the first explosion, the shockwave of which helping to propel him away from the mass detonation of the other missiles.
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Cyrus slowly picks himself up, limping to the edge of a massive crater, most of which is still shrouded in a cloud of dust. Cyrus focuses, searching for any sign of Doomspire until he hears rocket thrusters from above him. Cyrus looks up to see one of Doomspire’s cases, the size of an eighteen-wheeler trailer, dropping toward the center of the crater. Cyrus immediately tries to fly to where the case is landing but is hit by another energy leather that wraps around and electrocutes him.
The dust clears to reveal a heavily damaged Doomspire. Most of his attachments are destroyed, the revolver arm falling apart after its last shot. The only remaining attachment is his chest amplifier. Doomspire breathes heavily, his voice changer glitching in and out.
“Y-y-you know, I’m not all b-bad,” says Doomspire as his case lands in front of him. Two small slots open, and he puts both arms inside. “Sure, I was g-g-g-oooo-oing to kill all those people, but it would have been q-quick-k & clean.” Doomspire is pulled into the case, and grinding metal and shifting gears can be heard from inside. “I w-w-would have notified their fa-a-amily or next of kin, handed over the body, and I’d even make sure evvvverything in their homes would be stored away, nice and neat, for the proper parties to pick up.” The case begins to shake the ground below as steam whistles out from vents at the top.
“But then you had to come in and be a hero,” Doomspire continues. The case lets out a small ding, and out the other end, Doomspire walks out in brand new, freshly waxed armor. “Now, for the record, I know it’s your job and all, so don’t take this personally.” Doomspire then walks over to Cyrus and stomps on his stomach. “But I’m going to make you watch as I have my Gruntbots tear your shit shack of a town and its people apart, termite-invested board by mold-covered tile. And once they’re done, I’ll make sure you find a nice place over my mantle to watch my attack Newa City, just so you can see how outmatched you truly were.”
Doomspire grabs the energy tether and lifts Cyrus off the ground. “But like I said, I’m not all bad, so if there’s anything you like to get off your chest now, it would probably be best, and don’t worry, I can keep a secret.” Off in the distance, the sun breaks past the horizon, the light from it catching Cyrus’ attention. Doomspire notices and watches the sunrise along with him. “Ah, the rising sun, a beautiful sight many take for granted. Fitting as it symbolizes a new beginning, a fresh start, and—”
“Do you ever—” Cyrus takes a quick, deep breath. His stomach tightens as he also flexes the muscles in his throat. “SHUT UP!” Cyrus’ voice goes off like a cannon with enough force to send Doomspire flying. Cyrus rips through the tether before going into a small coughing fit.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” yells Doomspire. “Enough of this, Grunt!”
“Yes, my lord,” says Grunt. Several cases begin to fly in from the sky. Cyrus flies into the air, taking in a longer breath before puckering his lips and firing a sonic whistle, the frequency of which causes the cases and Doomspire’s armor to malfunction. Some of the cases explode mid-air while others drop out of the sky.
“Rah! Grunt! Send more!” orders Doomspire, only to be met with silence. “Grunt! Grunt, you glorified home appliance, respond!” Cyrus lands while coughing. “Well, well, well, I guess the mutt has—"
“I SWEAR,” yells Cyrus, forcing Doomspire back, “all ya’ll capes evah do is yap, yap, yap!” Cyrus flies at Doomspire again. The villain prepares to attack, but Cyrus stops just out of his reach and blasts him with another sonic yell, sending Doomspire skipping across what’s left of the lake like a stone, with Cyrus flying after him. “You think all that fancy talk makes you betta than me?” Doomspire fires a laser at Cyrus but misses. Cyrus then grabs Doomspire by the cape and flings him into the air. “All it does is make me wanna hit ya HARDER!” Cyrus hits Doomspire in the back, sending him higher into the air.
Cyrus flies around Doomspire, knocking him around and keeping him unable to tell which way is up. “All of that power and smarts ain’t gonna do ya no good if you ain’t got the skills to finish the JOB!” Doomspire is sent crashing through his armored transport and back at what remains of Fort Barton's welcome sign with a lone Gruntbot still cleaning the mess.
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“My lord!” yells the Grunbot as it runs to Doomspire’s side. “Are you ok, my lord?”
“Get off of me, you waste of tin!” yells Doomspire, “Actually, be useful and—” Cyrus lands on top of the Gruntbot, crushing it before knocking Doomspire back with a small blast.
“I haven’t had to really use my powers for almost a decade,” says Cyrus, “hell, it’s been longer than that since I used my sonics. Yet, I was able to knock off the rust in an instant and go toe to toe with the so-called Plague of Planet Earth. Sad.”
“You…you glorified country bumpkin!” yells Doomspire, “If I came at you with the full might of my intellect, you wouldn't have stood a chance! Your flea-ridden mind couldn’t begin to—" Cyrus flies circles around Doomspire, creating a small tornado around the villain while also blasting him with his sonic yell. Doomspire fires frantically at the tornado or where he thinks Cyrus is, to no avail. Unable to handle the noise anymore, Doomspire falls to his knees while covering his ears as best he can.
The tornado dissipates, and Cyrus stands over a groveling Doomspire.
“You know why this town’s a blackout?” asks Cyrus, “because that last thing I want is a bunch of capes bringing their Shakespearian nonsense to my front door.”
“No prison can hold me,” says Doomspire, “I’ll be back, and when I do—” Cyrus leans in, next to Doomspire’s ear.
“You better make it count,” says Cyrus, “because around here, we don’t believe in third chances.” Doomspire tries to uppercut Cyrus but misses as the hero leans back. Cyrus responds with a thirty-second sonic yell, crushing Doomspire’s armor and pushing the villain firmly into the dirt. After a few sparks, the suit whines down, all the light fading away.
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On the island prison, Millennium Fortress, a couple of guards stand watch on the only bridge onto the island. One of the guards notices something flying towards them and calls it over the radio. Turrets rise from the prison walls and an energy dome forms behind them.
“This is Warden Pratt. You are in a no-fly zone!” says Pratt over a speaker. “You have thirty seconds to change course or be shot down!” The flying object immediately lands on the bridge but continues to walk toward the prison. Inside the prison command center, an old yet buff man with the beard watches from his seat as his team manages the situation. “Rocha, any attempts at radio contact?” A woman wearing headphones turns around and shakes her head, “No.”
“Sir, cameras are unable to identify the individual,” says another man. Warden Pratt looks at the camera, watching as a figure with a blurred-out face drags something behind him. “Fifteen seconds, sir.”
“Hey, Pratt! If I ain’t allowed to fly, can yall at least give me a dolly or something?” asks the individual. “This hunk of junk’s heavier than your wife.” Warden Pratt’s eyes widen before slamming a button on his chair, shutting down the turrets. He immediately runs out of his chair and out of the room. A few minutes later, Warden Pratt pulls up to the entrance in a jeep to a crowd of nervous guards, guns raised. Pratt makes his way to the front of the crowd to find Doomspire screaming in his unmoving armor.
“Where’s the other one?” orders Pratt.
“Took off the second he dropped off the lawn ornament,” says one of the soldiers. “Looked like he went through hell to do it.” Warden Pratt looks out to the sky and smiles before ordering his men to drag Doomspire inside.
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Jesus Christ! Really pushing the term "short" story. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the (long ass) story! If you have any comments, critiques, or criticisms, please don't be afraid to let me hear 'em (as long as they're constructive (or comical)). Also, if you have some spare time, check out my blog for more stories like this one. Stay safe, drink plenty of water, and be kind to yourself and others. ToonMan, AWAY!
#creative writing#superhero#writerscommunity#writers on tumblr#writing blog#short story#writing#writeblr#writing prompts#“short” story#fiction#story writing#No. Cyrus's powers DON'T come from the sun#Doomspire is not a robot. I swear#Monologues are stupid#Never underestimate a guy who can deck you at MACH 3#Gruntbot deserves better#So many colors
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