Endless Possibility

Endless Possibility
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/35200648.
Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Categories: F/F, F/M
Fandoms: Powerpuff Girls, Samurai Jack (Cartoon)
Relationships: Aku (Samurai Jack)/Blossom Utonium, Ms. Keane/Professor Utonium,
Robin Snyder/Bubbles Utonium, Butch & Bubbles Utonium, Boomer &
Blossom Utonium, Brick & Buttercup Utonium
Characters: Blossom Utonium, Bubbles Utonium, Buttercup Utonium, Brick (PPG),
Boomer (PPG), Butch (PPG), Sedusa (PPG), Princess Morbucks, Aku
(Samurai Jack), Mojo Jojo, Professor Utonium, Ms. Keane (PPG), Dick
Hardly, Major Glory, Mr. Green (PPG), Fuzzy Lumpkins, Sara Bellum
(PPG), The Mayor of Townsville, Grim (Billy & Mandy)
Additional Tags: Action & Romance, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Crossover Pairings,
Crossover, Self-Hatred, Family Drama, Soulmates, Enemies to Friends to
Lovers, Unrequited Love, Post-Canon
Language: English
Series: Part 1 of Map of the Problematique DX
Stats: Published: 2021-11-18 Updated: 2024-11-04 Words: 189,954 Chapters:
21/25
Endless Possibility
by BoobeamTrap
Summary
The Powerpuff Girls' lives are turned upside down when an ancient evil long thought to have
perished is resurrected in the city of Townsville. As their lives grow ever more complicated
and their home becomes a battleground for forces that transcend time and space, one little girl
finds herself at the heart of it all. Struggling to reconcile the heroine she was born as with the
dark thoughts creeping into her soul, her decisions will affect the lives of everyone she has
ever known and loved, and the very fate of her and every other world.
Notes
Map of the Problematique began as a single story, Endless Possibility, and was meant to be a
gift to a new friend. It quickly evolved into something more, spiraling out of control until it
has become a massive epic that I have spent the last 12 years of my life working on.
I began this story when I was 19, and now, at 32 as I write this, I am trying to bring it to a
conclusion. Since I'm going to be moving it to this platform, I am taking this as an
opportunity to clean up things that have bothered me for years. I'm older, hopefully wiser,
and hopefully a better writer, so while the story will retain its original idea, I hope the
alterations I make as I post it here are for the better.
The Evil Origins of Chemical X
How long has it been since last I saw the accursed sun?
“Do not worry, Samurai, you will see me again. But next time, you will not be so fortunate,”
the demon proclaimed, rising up to his full height. His shoulders sagged and, though he tried
to hide it, his breathing was labored. However, before he could truly relax, the sky above him
tore open and the portal he had just closed appeared once more. Two figures emerged: one, a
woman he’d never seen before, the other…
“What?! You’re back already?”
The Samurai...the Nameless Prince...the forgotten warrior...the greatest hero…
With a warcry and no hesitation, the Samurai, his hair wild and frayed, his body scarred, but
not broken, charged at the demon.
“W-wait!” The demon could barely get a word out before the Samurai’s holy blade tore
through his side, its magic burning through his form even quicker than it had before. With
some effort, the demon managed to sever his burning torso and retreated to a platform below.
The man who slayed the unstoppable...the immortal Aku.
The demon shot upward, his maw gaping, his claws ready to strike. Yet, for all his
supernatural speed, he was too slow. His eyes grew wide and his once invincible body
trembled with terror.
The Samurai was already above him, his blade pulled back and aimed for the demon’s face.
He tore the demon in half with ease, slashing and tearing through the monster’s beaten body
like it was made of paper. With every piece of him that melted away, he tried to escape,
shrinking into smaller and more pathetic forms, desperate to find safety.
He realized, far too late, that there was nowhere left for him to run. As the Samurai’s blade
plunged into his head, he felt his body being drawn into the sacred metal.
“No...MORE!” Those were the last words the demon heard as his world succumbed to
silence.
How long has it been since I last saw the accursed sun? I hope they've enjoyed it
The towering tree that had grown from the Pit of Hate was destroyed in an explosion that
could be seen for miles, leaving behind nothing more than a crater. That unholy place was
quickly forgotten by those who had survived, choosing to close the door on that dark era and
instead focus on a brighter tomorrow.
The Samurai fell in love, married, and had a family. And that family splintered off, eventually
setting out into a new world. Eventually...one of the distant sons of that Nameless Prince
would come back. Back to Japan. Back to that forgotten site.
The sun can't shine forever without casting a great and powerful shadow…
What should have stayed buried forever...yearned to see the sun again. History refused to
fade away, refused to go quiet into the night. Good had triumphed...but Evil refused to die.
We learn little from victory…
But much from defeat....
And be certain…
I have learned. Yes...I have learned well.
A young scientist, fresh out of college, stalked the excavation site. He pulled his hard hat
down over his eyes, hoping to mask the nervous way his gaze shifted left and right. As a
major in biochemistry, he'd never imagined his first day on the job would involve him
traveling to Japan and digging up an old ruin.
"Utonium! Make yourself useful! Get over here!" A gruff voice called his name.
The scientist, James Utonium, jumped and turned to the voice, waving and nodding furiously.
“O-of course! On my way, sir!” Shifting his heavy pack of supplies, Utonium jogged over to
the foreman. The site was a crater, several hundred feet wide, yet impossibly deep. Utonium
stood at the edge of the crater, whistling as he peered into the depths.
“This is incredible. Though, I must admit, I’m not entirely sure what we’re looking at here.
I’ve read the memo top-to-bottom several times, but...it seems inconclusive,” Utonium trailed
off, fingers stroking his chin as he strained his eyes to find the bottom of the site. He turned
to the foreman, who was kneeling at the edge, taking notes on a small, palm-sized computer.
“Tell me what you know, Utonium,” the foreman ordered without looking up.
Utonium nodded and knelt down beside the foreman, resting his arm on his knee as he
retrieved his own palm computer from his satchel.
“Historically, the area surrounding the site is fertile and lush with plant and animal life. This
clearing, though…” Utonium paused to look around at the area. There was an almost
artificial divide between the excavation site and the forest surrounding it, “None of the
animals will so much as approach, and the vegetation seems to...refuse to grow any closer.
It’s very curious, indeed, sir.”
“That is a fair summary of the situation. We are currently searching for the source of this
anomaly. Our investigations have led us to uncover historical texts about this place. They
suggest this area was once the site of some supernatural happening.” The foreman’s eyebrow
craned as a message appeared on his computer. Turning to Utonium, he motioned for the pair
to stand, “Normally, I would not be inclined to believe in something so fantastic.
But...stranger things have turned out to be true.”
“Supernatural?” Utonium mused, turning back to his notes and skimming through the
research he had done in the two days since he’d been brought on as a consultant for the
investigation. He paused upon reaching a story his grandfather had once told him and his
brother.
“Utonium,” the foreman’s voice interrupted his train of thought, “it would appear that we
have located something. Let us make our way into the crater.” Without waiting for a
response, the foreman turned and strode toward the lift.
“Of course, sir!” Utonium called, rising to his feet and hurrying to join him.
As the pair began their descent, Utonium’s gaze drifted to the sky. With every passing
moment, the light grew dim and the air grew hot and heavy. Before long, the pair were
plunged into darkness. Though there were lanterns along the walls of the pit, their artificial
light could do little to challenge the oppressive darkness emanating from the bottom. By the
time they reached the bottom, Utonium was drenched with sweat.
“What have you found?” the foreman asked, seemingly unfazed by the heat. He paused at the
edge of the excavation point, his eyes widening, “What is this?”
Utonium quickly hurried to the site, nearly tripping when he reached the edge of the hole
they had dug. His mouth fell open and his knees gave out. Dropping to the ground, he moved
closer to the source, the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck rising.
“This is…” The young scientist flinched as the air around the source crackled with energy.
When one of the excavators brought a light closer, it began to spark and hiss. The light inside
flickered, then drained until it was gone entirely. Realization flashed in his eyes. It wasn’t
merely the depth that kept the crater in darkness. No, the source itself seemed to devour any
light that came close to it.
Utonium pulled a pad of paper from his satchel and slipped on a pair of night vision goggles.
With some hesitation, he activated a Geiger counter and held it near the source.
“Amazing!” Utonium murmured, watching as the counter began to malfunction. The source,
a puddle of still, black tar, no larger than a spilled glass of water, was giving off an
impossible amount of radiation, unlike anything else the world had ever seen. And yet,
despite its power, none of them seemed affected from this close.
“What are you?” the scientist whispered, awestruck and inspired.
The young scientist, now officially dubbed Professor Utonium, spent the next few years after
the discovery of the source trying to find a practical application for its power. It had proven to
be a worthy adversary, resisting all of his experiments thus far. He had been correct, the
source was unlike anything else the world had ever seen. Despite its seemingly infinite power
and endless possibility, the foreman of the excavation team had been all too happy to let the
Professor take all of it when he left.
At the time, the Professor imagined it was his lucky break. However, as the years went by
and the source continued to refuse to cooperate with him, he had begun to think that maybe
he had been the unfortunate one. All of his experiments had proven just two things: first, that
the source was the most powerful substance the world had ever seen, and second, that it held
nothing but contempt for the world around it. Any exposure to the source quickly corrupted
whatever it touched. Plant life flourished, then grew teeth and began to crave meat. Even the
cutest of lab animals were twisted into horrific abominations bent on destruction. Adding it to
any machine quickly wore it down and destroyed it.
The Professor was certain that the source could change the world, he just needed to find a
way to keep it from destroying it first.
He found himself drawn back to his grandfather’s stories. Stories of an ancient hero in their
family. Stories of a sacred weapon that could cleave the dark itself in two. Stories of a hero
standing alone against a being of incomprehensible evil. Those stories had led him to seeking
out the heirloom they spoke of. A katana, said to have been forged by the gods themselves
from the righteousness of an emperor’s soul.
It had taken every ounce of goodwill he’d ever established with his grandfather, but he’d
been allowed to take a sample of the metal from the sword. Just a small pouch of metal
powder, but that had been enough. Just as he had hoped, the metal powder had an energy
signature similar to that of the source. All that was left was to find a way to stabilize the two.
His initial attempt to simply combine a miniscule amount of both had resulted in disaster.
A promising disaster.
There we go…” the Professor mumbled as he combined the metal powder with the third
ingredient. He braced himself, but as he stirred the substance, it quickly settled, and began to
emit a cool, green glow. The Professor updated his notes and turned to the source. It had
remained still as the day he’d found it, ever drawing in the light around it, leaving his lab lit
only by the sun pouring in through the window.
“Just one last part…” the Professor approached the flask containing the source. He shivered
as he lifted the vial of glowing green chemical, then turned to the source. Swallowing the
lump in his throat, he watched in awe as the green light from the chemical refused to be
devoured by the source, and how the source began to stir as he brought it near.
Taking one last breath, knowing that if this failed he would lose the last of the source, and
possibly his life, the Professor poured the green substance into the flask.
The air stirred as an unseen force erupted from the concoction, sending the Professor
stumbling backward. He managed to remain on his feet, staring wide-eyed at his creation. No
longer was the source still, it churned and bubbled and stirred within its flask. Every so often,
it gave off a surge of colorless light, blowing back the scattered pens and papers nearby. After
several minutes, the surges stopped and it settled.
The Professor approached the concoction and gently lifted the flask from its holder. Swirling
it around the flask, the new chemical moved soundlessly, without any splashing or churning,
its movement was immaculate. He quickly gathered the reader he’d made for measuring the
source’s power and held it near the flask.
“My god,” the Professor murmured as the numbers continued to climb, far beyond any
reading it had shown before. He’d done it. He’d found a way to stabilize the source, and in
doing so, had created something...greater than the sum of its parts. He had created a new X
Factor.
“Chemical X…”
The Professor, older still, with dark circles under his eyes, sighed as he added the last of the
ingredients to his latest concoction. Following the creation of Chemical X, the Professor’s
career had taken off into orbit. He became the leading expert in the understanding of
supernatural occurrences, including the study of those deemed meta-humans: superheroes and
supervillains as they were more commonly called. And, while his inventions had brought him
success and renown, he watched helplessly as the city he’d grown up in, the city he loved,
grew stagnant and rotten.
All of his contributions to the understanding of superpowers, monsters, and myths had done
nothing to slow Townsville’s descent into chaos. Worst of all, after spending years of his life
creating it, he had never found a stable use for Chemical X. Though the substance was stable,
its application still resulted in monstrosities and destruction. Though he had managed to
create infinity itself, such unbridled power remained too dangerous for the world to use.
And so, after discovering a journal entry he’d written as a child, describing how his life was
saved by three perfect little girls, the Professor set his sights once again on the fantastic. It
was a long shot, he knew that from the beginning, but a long shot was exactly what the world
needed. So he found himself in his basement laboratory, stirred a pot of sugar, spice, and
everything nice, nursing a headache as the monkey he had taken in rampaged through the lab
behind him.
“Just a little bit more,” he sighed. Suddenly, a heavy weight collided with his back, sending
his hands smashing into the nearby flask of Chemical X. His mouth fell open and his eyes
grew wide as he watched his X Factor, the very essence of power itself, pour into his
concoction.
“N-” his cry was cut off by an explosion that sent him flying across his lab and crashing into
the wall. The world spun around him as he forced his eyes open. As his vision cleared and the
ringing faded from his ears, the Professor forced himself to his feet. Movement caught his
eye, drawing his attention to the far end of the room. Mouth still hanging open, he stumbled
his way closer, head tilting as he stared at them.
“Hi!” the one in the middle spoke up, her voice cheerful and beautiful, snapping the
Professor from his shock.
As the three spoke, none of them noticed how the remains of the chemical on the table began
to move, trickling to the floor where it gathered into a quivering black sludge. The sludge
flinched when the Professor spoke, and quickly found its way to the edge of the room.
Without a sound, it slid up the wall and out through the basement window, escaping into the
night unnoticed.
How long has it been since I last saw the accursed sun?
The time has not yet arrived...but soon...
Soon the world will once again know my name…
Soon, they all shall know Aku...

Rebirth of Evil
Chapter Summary
3 years have passed in the City of Townsville since the birth of its heroines. On an
unassuming April afternoon, the girls rush into town to do battle with their arch-rival,
Mojo Jojo.
The sun shone bright over the city of Townsville, its warm, golden glow mixing with the cool
spring air to create the perfect afternoon. Throughout the town, the citizens were hard at
work, blissfully unaware that while March had gone out like a lamb, a lion lay in wait at the
end of that first week of April. At the heart of the city, within the volcano-top fortress of the
town’s most relentless supervillain, a scheme that had been in the works for months was at
last just one tightened screw away from completion.
Giving his screwdriver one last twist and twirling it in his hand with a practiced grace, the
maniacal simian scientist, Mojo Jojo, stepped back to take in his latest invention.
“Yes...yes! At last, I, Mojo Jojo, have completed the greatest of all my inventions! My
machinations have finally come to fruition! My mightiest machine, after long deliberation
and many sleepless nights, has been finished, completed, and perfected!” With a button press
of a nearby remote, a circular hole opened in the floor and a hovering seat rose up from
below. Mojo sat back, his seat rising until it was at eye level with his war machine. Tapping a
few keys on a console in the armrest of the seat, a screen appeared in front of him, displaying
the final diagnostic report as it ran its course.
The machine, dubbed the “Ultimate Fighting Robo Jojo Mark CXI.21”, was the latest in the
long line of Robo Jojo models that the supervillain had employed over the three years he had
been waging war against the heroines of Townsville. Far larger than any before it, the CXI.21
required Mojo to construct a mechanism for lowering the floor of his laboratory deeper into
the volcano upon which it sat. The result was a significantly increased workspace, as well as
a drastically increased electricity bill to power the air conditioner. Its silver-blue surface
shimmered in the harsh glow cast by the magma just below. Its legs were thick and stocky,
trading mobility for the stability to support its massive frame. Its body was thicker still, with
massive, oversized hands, knuckles dragging on the floor far below.
Atop the metal monster sat a cylindrical head, resembling the metal turban that had become
its maker’s defining characteristic. Its face was blank, save for a single block of tinted glass
—dark enough to render any attempt to spy on the interior futile—that led to the well-
protected cockpit.
As he watched the readouts continue to fill the display, Mojo couldn’t resist the urge to
spread his arms and throw his head back, laughing uncontrollably.
“Yes! Power levels far exceed even my most optimistic, my most ambitious and otherwise
unrealistic projections! The CXI.21 is undeniably, and without a doubt, my greatest, finest,
ultimate creation! Mwahaha!” Mojo began to laugh again as the numbers continued to rise,
“Prepare yourself, Powerpuff Girls, for on this day, you shall face the full, unbridled, and
utterly overwhelming might of Mojo Jojo! Mwahaha!”
Mojo turned toward his computer, steepling his fingers and chuckling softly. With the push of
a button, the image on the screen changed to that of Pokey Oaks Kindergarten. His grin grew
even more wicked as the Robo Jojo CXI.21 loomed ominously behind him, the glow of the
daylight pouring in from the now opening roof gleaming off the cockpit glass.
Beneath the streets of Townsville, a long-forgotten shadow crept through the city’s sewers. Its
movements were erratic, unsteady, but with an alien kind of determination. Bits and pieces of
the creature, a trembling, viscous tar-like sludge, broke off, only to begin moving on their
own and rejoining with the main body. As it came to an open manhole, a stream of sunlight
from above at last brought it a halt.
The surface of the creature bubbled and quivered. After a moment of what appeared to be
deliberation, it oozed its way to the edge of the walkway before trickling into the lightly
flowing, filthy water. Like before, strings and droplets of the creature came apart, as the
muck-filled water splashed against it. Coming into contact with the walkway on the opposite
end, a stream of sludge rose up out of the water, slapping against the concrete with a loud,
wet squelch. Still being pulled along by the water, the creature pulled itself up and onto the
walkway.
Suddenly, strings of black erupted from the surface of the creature, snatching up the floating
pieces that had come loose when it took its swim. The pieces were dragged back to the
creature with an intensity unlike its previously strained movements. It remained in place,
trembling as if catching its breath, before continuing along its aimless path.
A short drive from Townsville Park, in the city’s favorite sleepy suburb, lay Pokey Oaks
Kindergarten. A welcoming institution of learning, helmed by one of the state’s most beloved
educators, Miss Cassandra Keane. The kindergarten was renowned for its impressive test
scores, soaring parent and child satisfaction ratings, and being the alma mater for the city’s
superpowered heroines, the Powerpuff Girls.
Through constant monster attacks and bi-monthly conquests by an assortment of supernatural

and superpowered menaces, Pokey Oaks Kindergarten had, nonetheless, remained a bastion
for learning and progress. Though she found herself in front of new faces each year, for the
last three years one constant had remained absolute.
“Now, picking up with my favorite subject,” Ms. Keane paused to giggle as several students
made their displeasure apparent, “Quiet down, class. I know that Math can be difficult, but I
promise, it gets easier with practice! So, let’s practice!” She gestured to a drawing on the
board, depicting two stick-figure children and a number of assorted fruits, “If we have two
sets of three apples, one set of four oranges, and four sets of two bananas, can anyone tell me
how many total pieces we have, and how many we have of each fruit?”
As she expected, while the rest of the class stared blankly, a single hand shot up like lightning
from a table near the back. Struggling to keep her expectant smile restrained, Ms. Keane
rested her hands on her hips and scanned the room.
“Come now, class. I know it’s tempting to let Blossom answer all the hard questions, but
surely someone else would like to volunteer to talk us through this one?” And, as also
expected, while the hand in the back rose up a bit higher and began to wave, the rest of the
class seemed determined to avoid meeting her gaze. With a sigh and a smile, she finally
turned to the little red-haired girl practically jumping out of her seat in the back.
“Alright then, Blossom would you like to tell us the answer?” Try as she might, she couldn’t
resist giggling at the absolute joy sparkling in the heroine’s rose-colored eyes.
“Of course Ms. Keane!” Blossom began, leaning against her desk, much to the visible
annoyance of the sister to her left, while the sister to her right giggled along with their
teacher, “Two sets of three apples would be three plus three, which is six apples. Four sets of
two bananas would be two plus two plus two plus two, which is eight bananas. Then there are
four oranges. That gives us six plus eight plus four, which is eighteen total pieces of fruit!”
Ms. Keane nodded, turning to write each of the answers beside their drawing.
“Very good, Blossom! And thank you for explaining how you came to that answer. Does
everyone else understand what she did? Let’s take a closer look.” Ms. Keane said, continuing
with her explanation.
Though it may have seemed cruel at first, Ms. Keane had discovered that starting with an
exceptionally difficult problem that only Blossom was likely to answer worked as an
effective icebreaker for her math lessons. Blossom had learned to take the time to explain her
answer, and, with the most difficult one out of the way, the other students were far less
intimidated by simpler problems.
She had also learned, through two unfortunate parent-teacher conferences explaining the trio
would be held back due to state-mandated attendance regulations, that despite being good and
attentive students, the Powerpuff Girls became easily bored having to sit through material
they had already gone through twice before.
Bubbles occupied herself by drawing when her attention slipped, and Buttercup zoned out
entirely, either sleeping or watching Bubbles draw, but when Blossom became bored, she
could become...a bit overbearing. Turning every lecture into a contest with no competitors to
be the first to answer every question, no matter how inconsequential. The teacher had never
imagined that the redhead, who prided herself on following rules and doing the right thing,
could be so unintentionally disruptive.
So, she made sure to include a few questions throughout her lessons—typically one at the
beginning, one in the middle, and one toward the end—that went beyond the scope of the
material to keep her brightest student from growing too restless.
While Ms. Keane continued her lesson, an argument was brewing at the Powerpuff’ Girl’s
table in the back of the room. Buttercup glared at her sister, cheek resting on her mitt, her
eyelids heavy and a scowl on her lips. When Blossom turned to her wearing a satisfied smirk,
her scowl deepened.
“What?” Blossom whispered, a knowing lilt to her voice.
Buttercup rolled her eyes and turned to the front.
“You’re such a know-it-all.” she muttered, speaking at a subsonic volume, something the
girls had become quite adept as they repeated kindergarten again and again.
“I am not a know-it-all, Buttercup,” Blossom retorted. She silently giggled and leaned
forward, resting her chin on both mitts, “I’m just a know-a-lot.”
Buttercup rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth curled upward, fighting a smile.
At the other end of the table, Bubbles hummed to herself in the same subsonic tone, putting
the finishing touches on her drawing.
“Are you two fighting again?” she asked without looking up.
“We’re not fighting,” the pair replied in unison.
Bubbles giggled and nodded, “Good.”
An obnoxious buzzing and flashing red light from the corner interrupted any further
conversation between the three. In a flash, and leaving her chair with enough force to knock
it over, Blossom appeared beside the Hotline, lifting the red receiver from its cradle.
“Yes, Mr. Mayor? How can we help?” Blossom asked a bit too eagerly. She nodded,
narrowing her eyes even as her smile grew, “Mojo’s marching down Main Street in a massive
metal monstrosity and making a major mess? Don’t worry, we’re on it!” Blossom set the
cradle down and turned to her sisters, practically bursting with excitement, “Did you get all
that?”
Her sisters needed no further encouragement, rocketing from their seats and hurrying to their
leader’s side.
“Alright! It’s about time!” Buttercup cheered.
“Let’s roll!” Blossom commanded, taking off through the roof with Buttercup close behind.
Bubbles paused, looking up at the hole in the ceiling. She then looked down at the drawing
still clutched in her hand. Her eyes lighting up, she flew over to the teacher’s desk, holding
the piece of paper out to the older woman.
“Here, Ms. Keane, you can have this!” Bubbles insisted.

“Why, thank you, Bubbles,” Ms. Keane accepted the drawing, chest fluttering when she saw
that it was a drawing of the three girls and Ms. Keane, depicting their graduation with a
banner stating “Finally!” in the background. Turning to the little blonde girl with an earnest
smile, she motioned for Bubbles to hurry along, “Be safe, Bubbles.”
“We will!” The Powerpuff girl cried as she hurried out, a blue streak shooting through the
hole in the roof.
Ms. Keane admired the drawing a bit longer until being snapped from her thoughts by the
sound of birds chirping and gathering near the new skylight. Setting the paper on her desk,
she turned to the classroom phone and sighed,
“Please take a few minutes to quietly talk amongst yourselves and work on your practice
scenarios, class. I have to call the contractor…”
Downtown Townsville had become something of a dark joke around town. While Townsville
was consistently rated a wonderful place to live, and the citizens definitely prided themselves
on maintaining that friendly and open atmosphere, any day that seemed too peaceful, too
serene, was sure to be interrupted by some kind of disaster. And when disaster struck,
Downtown Townsville was the most likely site.
In true Townsville fashion, the citizens hurried out of the streets, seeking shelter from the
great shadow cast by the metal monstrosity that had appeared from the park. Its massive
frame tore through buildings without slowing; its massive feet crushed anything caught
below, leaving visible craters with each step it took. Reaching Main Street, the robot lifted
one of its colossal arms and swung it to the side. The sheer force of the blow erupted outward
like a hurricane-force gale, ripping through steel, concrete and glass, sending anything caught
in its wake screaming into the air.
With a maniacal cackle, Mojo watched as the citizens fled. He made no move to chase after
them. No, they weren’t his target, they were little more than bait set to catch a bigger fish.
Hearing the approaching whistle of the city’s favorite tricolored rainbow, Mojo turned his
attention to the heroines fast rocketing toward him.
“Yes, approach me, Powerpuff Girls. Fly straight into the jaws of your defeat!”
“Not so fast, Mojo Jojo!” The girls cried in unison, coming to an immediate stop in the air
across from the CXI.21’s visor. Blossom’s mitts were on her hips, her eyes narrowed but a
confident smirk on her lips. Buttercup was hitting her fists together to Blossom’s left, a wide,
toothy grin on her face. To the leader’s right, Bubbles was waving at Mojo, a smile on her
face.
“Hi Mr. Mojo! That’s a really nice new robot!” Bubbles called to him with a giggle.
“Ha!” Buttercup snorted, hovering closer, punching the air, “Yeah, sure is a nice pile of
garbage, Monkey Man!”
“Careful girls,” Blossom cautioned, despite her own visible excitement, “Mojo’s clearly put a
lot of work into this one. Let’s give him a chance to show it off before we break it.”
Mojo chuckled, flipping a switch and adjusting a dial, cranking up the CXI.21’s power.
Satisfied, he clutched his controls and leaned forward, his voice booming from an unseen
speaker on the robot’s head.
“Break my robot?” Mojo laughed wickedly, the air around the machine starting to hum as it
shifted its operation from transportation to combat, “You are mistaken, my foolish little
Powerpuff Girls. It is not you who will be breaking my robot, no this robot shall not be
broken by your hands. On the contrary,” Mojo’s eyes narrowed.
The CXI.21 shifted, widening its stance and lifting its hands. Its arms stretched out and palms
opened wide. As it continued to stretch its arms, the girls realized it was even more colossal
than they had at first guessed. Soon, the metal monster filled the sky, the sun appearing as
little more than an unheavenly halo behind its massive cranium.
“It is my machine that will break you!”
Blossom’s eyes widened as the hum in the air became a scream. Her eyes darted to the side,
catching the miniscule movement of the robot’s weight shifting.
“Scatter!” No sooner had the command crossed her lips, the CXI.21’s massive palm sliced
through the air where the trio had been. The Powerpuff leader watched as, once again, the
power behind the robot’s blow unleashed a shockwave, the wind ripping through the nearby
buildings, sending cars, busses, and telephone poles hurling through the air like tissue paper.
“Bubbles, slow the debris and check for any casualties. Buttercup, with me!”
The trio split apart, a streak of blue darting through the streets like lightning, catching
shrapnel and runaway vehicles and collapsing buildings, bringing them safely to the ground.
The twin streaks of pink and green shot toward the metal monster, ducking and weaving as it
took another swing at them.
Buttercup pulled ahead of Blossom, landing on the CXI.21’s still outstretched arm. The
moment her feet connected with the metal, sparks filled the air before the heroine vanished
entirely. Shooting up the robot’s arm, she reached the head before the electricity her takeoff
had created could dissipate. With a powerful cry, she pulled her mitt back and sent it crashing
into the side of the CXI.21’s head.
To her surprise, she felt searing pain shoot up her arm as the robot did little more than flinch.
She pulled her arm back, staring in shock as the metal monster turned to face her. It was her
turn to flinch, hearing Mojo’s dark laughter.
“Now you see, Powerpuff Buttercup, you see the futility of your struggle! Your efforts are
pointless, worthless!” The surface of the robot’s arm began to hum and a shock shot up
Buttercup’s legs drawing out a scream, “It’s no use!” Mojo cried as the CXI.21’s other fist
came flying toward the paralyzed Powerpuff girl.
“Look out!” A streak of pink collided with Buttercup, tugging her out of the way from the
oncoming blow. Blossom looked back over her shoulder, twisting her body and pulling her
sister closer to avoid being caught by the colossal fist. Even with her quick reaction, she felt a
burning pain on her arm as the edge of the robot’s arm split open her skin.
“Blossom!” Hearing Blossom’s cry, Buttercup wrapped her arms around her sister as the pair
began to spin out of control. The two spiraled through the air, separating and catching
themselves just before hitting the ground, “Hey are you okay?” Buttercup asked, rushing to
Blossom’s side.
“I’m fine…” Blossom lied, clutching her bleeding arm. She glared up at the robot then
looked back at the blood dripping to the ground by her feet, “This whole thing is made of
duranium,” she hissed.
Duranium, a rare silver-blue metal, considered one of the most durable substances in
existence. Due to its scarcity, its nonexistent conductivity, and the difficulty involved in
smelting or molding it, it was seldom used. It did; however, possess two qualities to give that
made it desirable to a villain like Mojo Jojo: it was the only metal on the planet that could
both resist the force of their energy-based attacks, and pierce their otherwise invulnerable
skin. A single duranium blade was life-threatening to a Powerpuff girl.
A war machine made entirely from the metal was a nightmare.
“Seriously? Where did he even get that much?” Buttercup growled. She glanced down at
Blossom’s arm, then back at the CXI.21, “You gonna be able to keep up?”
Blossom laughed and turned to Buttercup with an incredulous smirk.
“I was about to ask you the same thing.”
Buttercup grinned back at her and the pair separated, blasting off toward the robot as they
dodged another devastating swing of its massive fist, the blow smashing through the street
into the sewer below.
As the city streets above quaked and trembled, in the sewers below, the sludge came to an
abrupt halt. As if waiting for confirmation, it shivered when the ground shook again, loose
rocks above tumbling into the filthy manmade river. Moving with an urgency unbecoming of
its previous movements, the sludge hurried in the direction of the commotion, strands of tar-
like limbs shooting forward to propel it onward.
It heard a scream and a gurgle made its way to the creature’s surface. Even more tendrils shot
from the sludge. Seemingly for the first time, it finally knew where it was going. As if
possessed, it squelched and squirmed onward. And, while it had avoided confrontation
before, when it came across a feral sewer rat, the substance plunged into the vermin. The rat’s
shrieks and squeals of pain were quickly silenced in a strangled cry as the creature passed
through it, leaving behind what remained of the rat: little more than a torso, half its flesh
melting, its bones charred black.
At last, reaching its destination, the creature slowed to a stop. It seemed to be staring at the
hole in the street above, sunlight pouring into its domain of rot and decay. The sound of a
drop hitting a puddle caught the creature’s attention. It squirmed forward, the entirety of its
surface quivering when it spied the pool of dark red blood on the ground. The sun above cast
a spotlight on that tiny pool of blood.
It was barely anything at all. And yet, it was everything the creature had ever wanted. The
sludge moved forward, drawing in a drop of the blood. An animalistic cry escaped the
creature, the first real sound it had ever made. It moved closer still, drinking in another drop.
The creature tried to move closer, but it began to sizzle and pop as the sunlight came in
contact with its body.
Several more explosions rocked the city above. The sludge paid them no mind. Its full
attention was on the drop of blood trickling from above. It marveled at the way the sunlight
glistened against the dark red droplet. The moment it hit the ground, the sludge unleashed
another cry and dove into the sunlight, drinking up every last drop of the blood.
With every drop, its surface grew sleek and sturdy, and the light of the accursed sun burned a
little bit less. Realizing it had drained all of the blood from the ground, the sludge turned its
attention to the stain on the street above. With another piercing cry, tendrils of darkness
erupted from its surface and dragged it upward.
Upward into the sun. Upward into the blood.
The once blue skies above Townsville were now filled with smoke and fire. The CXI.21
stretched out its great arms, silos opening along their surface to unleash another barrage of
missiles at the Powerpuff Girls. Try as they might to pierce the metal monster’s defenses, the
city’s heroines found themselves caught in a constant defensive maneuver. Every punch or
swing of the robot’s arms was a hurricane tearing apart the streets; between every punch, now
the robot unleashed a salvo of missiles, indiscriminate in their target, causing even more
destruction.
“What are we gonna do?” Bubbles asked as the trio regrouped. Though she had been tasked
with managing the destruction the metal monster was causing, the few encounters Bubbles
had with the CXI.21 had left her bruised and out of breath.
Buttercup snarled in response, a nasty bruise forming on the side of her face, her outfit singed
from the constant stream of electricity that ran along the robot’s arms.
“We haven’t even been able to dent this stupid thing!” she growled, turning to Blossom,
“What’s the plan, Red? You gotta have something, right, Miss Know-a-Lot?”
Blossom laughed, though it was a short, shallow laugh. She was once again holding her arm,
desperate to stem the bleeding.
“I do have a plan.”
The other two turned to their sister, a mix of desperation and hope in their eyes. Before she
could elaborate, she was cut off by another swing of the robot’s fist.
“Scatter!” Blossom growled, taking off higher into the sky. Drawing in a deep breath, she
closed her eyes. They snapped back open and now she could see everything.
The robot’s weakness had been evading her. Its legs were much too sturdy and it’s stance too
wide for them to count on toppling it. The electrical current along its surface made a head-on
attack more harmful to them than it was to the robot. The missiles were a constant threat and
the duranium chassis meant that even a single slip-up could be deadly.
Blossom’s fists clenched at her side, her bleeding side tensing harder still. The robot was
designed to withstand concussive force and so far, their heat rays had proven useless. They
could throw themselves against it a thousand more times, but it was more likely their bodies
would give out before the robot.
Blossom’s eyes darted back and forth, scanning every miniscule detail, taking in every bit of
information she could find. To her left, Bubbles was dealing with a missile salvo, expertly
blasting them from the sky before they could reach her in a flurry of precision heat rays. To
her right, Buttercup had caught one of the robot’s fists, her muscles straining as she tried to
hold it back. Just as it seemed her arms were giving out, sparks appeared around her and
Buttercup vanished. Seeming to appear on the ground before she even disappeared, she
launched herself at the robot’s guarded torso.
“I’m missing something,” she murmured. She hissed and clutched her arm again, cursing the
third effect duranium had on the Powerpuff girls: stunting their ultra-super healing
capabilities. If it weren’t for the pain, she’d have found the answer already, she thought, her
eyes beginning to hurt, moisture prickling at their corners from holding them open for so
long.
As Bubbles and Buttercup came together and unleashed a volley of heat rays on the CXI.21,
it resumed its defensive stance, lifting its arms. This time, though, something seemed off.
There was a constant hum in the air from the electrical current running through the robot’s
surface, but after striking that pose, it suddenly doubled in volume.
Blossom’s eyes widened. The metal monster’s chest suddenly opened, revealing what
appeared to be some kind of laser cannon. The air in front of it shimmered, then sparked, and
with a loud crack, it unleashed a massive laser blast. Blossom quickly spotted Bubbles and
Buttercup, thankful that they had managed to avoid the laser. Turning, she marveled at the
vaporized skyline. It seemed to go on for miles.
The Powerpuff Leader turned back to the robot. She drew in a breath and her scowl was
replaced by a smirk. She glanced down at her arm, then back at the CXI.21.
“I do have a plan,” she whispered, her confidence soaring.
Racing through the rubble, the creature ducked and dodged the debris raining from the
heavens as it beelined toward the source of the destruction. The metal mountain’s foot
crashed into the ground near it and the creature wasted no time in clinging to its surface.
Moving with unnatural grace, it climbed higher, ever higher, seeking the source of the
destruction’s power. Having tasted the hot, fresh blood that had given it strength, its once
thoughtless existence had been filled with just two burning desires.
It had to become stronger, and it had to drink more of that blood.
Sitting on the shoulder of the godlike machine, the creature crept toward the cockpit. Its
advance was brought to a screaming halt by the most horrible sound. It pierced deep into the
creature’s quivering surface and through its core. The creature began to lose its balance,
slipping helplessly from the mountain. Its dark tendrils slapped uselessly against the
machine’s surface, unable to find footing.
As it plunged to the ground below, it was saved by a wall of impossible cold, pinning it to the
metal mountain. Though the winds were colder than the vast expanse of space itself, the
creature refused to freeze. Its sludge-like body refused to succumb. Digging its dark tendrils
into the ice, it slid into the shadows of the metal mountain’s chest.
Shooting toward the metal monster like a rose comet, Blossom’s head swiveled back and
forth, scanning the sky for her sisters.
“Bubbles!”
The blue-eyed puff swerved to avoid another missile, blasting it from the sky before snapping
around to face her sister.
“Hypersonic Shriek on my mark!”
Without waiting for a response, Blossom turned toward Buttercup. Her headstrong sister
collided with the CXI.21’s fist, deflecting it, but being knocked away and sent crashing into
the street below. Blossom’s feet smashed into the ground as she landed, whipping her head up
to face the metal monster. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Buttercup joining
her.
“What’s the plan, Red?”
“We’re going for the laser. I’m going to create an opening, then you’re going to hit it with a
Meteor Crash.”
Buttercup nodded, lowering herself to the ground. She moved one foot back and leaned
forward on her hands, like a runner waiting for the whistle. Her eyes were focused, and as she
drew in a breath, sparks began to fill the air around her.
“Hey Mojo!” Blossom shouted with all her strength. As she expected, the metal monster took
a step back and lowered its gaze to face her, “Try that again, I dare you!”
In the cockpit of the CXI.21, Mojo was beside himself. His war machine had proven to be
more than a match for the Powerpuff Girls. No, he thought, grinning and tightening his grip
on his controls. He glanced to the side, then back at the little girl calling him out. He knew
without a doubt that she had a plan. The simian scientist’s schemes had been foiled by one of
the accursed redhead’s plans more times than he could begin to count. Surely, he shouldn’t
listen to her. Surely he shouldn’t take the bait.
Twisting the power dial all the way to the left and cranking the CXI.21’s energy output to its
limit, he glared at Blossom, unwavering.
“Very well, Powerpuff Blossom! AS YOU WISH!”
The metal monster’s arms rose and its feet spread apart. Its metal surface began to glow,
vibrating from the intensity of the energy emanating from within. The chest slid open and the
laser cannon tilted downward, aimed straight at the Powerpuff Leader.
‘3…’ Blossom thought, as she began to suck in air through her teeth.
The air in front of the cannon shimmered.
‘2…’ She continued to draw in air, her mouth falling open. She dug her heels into the street.
Snowflakes appeared inside her mouth.
The air in front of the cannon sparked.
‘1…’ The air around Blossom had begun to swirl around her, a flurry of icicles and
snowflakes, sweeping away the dirt and debris caused by their battle. Her eyes were wide and
unblinking, staring down the barrel in front of her.
The air in front of the cannon released a deafening crack.
“Now Bubbles!” In the instant before the laser could fire, the streets of Townsville exploded
with an earth-shattering scream.
Mojo’s hands flew to his ears. The sound crashed into him like a steamroller, piercing
through him, all the way to his soul. He could feel his turban cracking. He turned in the
direction of the sound as he felt blood trickling down the side of his head.
The air around Bubbles was visible and pulsing with blue light as she continued to scream.
Wrecked slabs of concrete and stone rose into the air and were vaporized by the unstoppable
force of her voice. What remained of the buildings around her began to crumble and fall, the
debris vaporized before it could hit the ground.
Despite commanding the fight with ease thus far, faced with the full power of Bubbles’ voice,
the metal monster was rendered motionless.
Seizing her moment, Blossom unleashed the storm she’d been preparing. A torrential blizzard
erupted from the redhead’s mouth, crossing in moments and colliding with the CXI.21 with
enough force to push it backward.
The metal monster lurched forward, struggling against the deluge of icy wind from the little
girl in front of it and the unstoppable cacophony erupting from her sister. Ice began quickly
spreading across its surface, spiraling outward from the laser cannon, its blast caught in the
barrel with nowhere to escape.
Realizing what was happening, Mojo lunged forward, slamming his fist against the button to
close the chest cavity. His confidence began slipping away as a warning siren blared in the
cockpit. Turning to his control panel, he could see that thick shards of ice were wedged inside
the chest cavity, growing thicker by the second to prevent its closing. He turned back to the
window, slack-jawed as he watched the sleet spread across his view and the glass begin to
crack.
“C-Curses.”
Blossom’s head began to feel light and airy. She could only hope that she’d done enough as
she finally gave out, gasping to catch her breath.
The sound of Bubbles’ scream finally gave out. They only had moments before the monster
recovered.
“Buttercup! Now!”
As she opened her mouth to speak, the air next to her erupted into sparks. Before the words
finished passing her lips, and before she could tilt her gaze skyward, Buttercup was already at
the monster’s chest, arm pulled back. As the ground where she’d taken off from finally
exploded into a crater, Buttercup’s fist smashed into the CXI.21’s frozen cannon.
The metal monster was flung off its feet, a shockwave erupting from the point of contact.
Cracks quickly spread across the chest of the robot. A green streak was sent ricocheting away
from the colossal machine and crashing into the ground.
Blossom glanced in Buttercup’s direction, then turned back to their target. Her eyes narrowed
and her teeth clenched. It was cracked, but it hadn’t shattered. Turning toward her other
sister, Blossom held her hand out.
“SONIC SCREWDRIVER!”
Bubbles took off like a gunshot, becoming a streak of blue that collided with the redhead, her
arm, soft but powerful, linking with her sister’s.
As the streak swirled around her, Blossom’s body melted into light. The two spiraled around
one another again, then shot forward in a swirling pinwheel of pink and blue. The sisters
collided with the metal monster’s chest like a drill. For a moment, it held strong.
When that moment passed, the chest shattered and the light drill erupted from the CXI.21’s
back.
The creature had managed to slip inside the searing core of the metal mountain when the
green meteor collided with its frozen surface. Safe from the bitter, arctic winds and spared the
unrelenting force of that shrill sound, the sludge moved deeper into the metal mountain’s
center, wrapping its body around the burning source of its power. Its surface began to solidify
once more. For some reason, after drawing in all that power, the machine had refused to
release it.
That served the creature well enough as it began to drink in the power. With every pulse, it
grew stronger. With every shudder, its surface became more concrete.
With each drop of energy consumed, the creature began to think.
Its feast was rudely interrupted when another comet, this one a swirling mass of two colors
collided with the still frozen frame of the metal mountain. The creature, now aware, stared at
the approaching light. The comet collided with the core, and then pierced through the
creature.
That’s when it tasted the blood.
Though the contact only lasted an instant, the creature found itself drunk on that blood once
more. It could feel itself growing, expanding, becoming something more.
Two flames erupted from the surface of the sludge.
“Did we do it?” Buttercup asked as she hurried to the tangled heap that Blossom and Bubbles
had landed in. She slid to her knees, helping them sit up, “That move was sick! Why haven’t
you ever shown me that before?”
Bubbles lurched forward, hands flying to her mouth. With monumental effort, she managed
to swallow the sick feeling.
“It makes us sick…” she moaned.
Blossom gratefully accepted Buttercup’s help sitting up. No sooner had she sat up, she
doubled over, hissing and grabbed her arm. She turned to look at it and her mouth fell open.
She was bleeding even more than before.
The trio looked up as the CXI.21 came tumbling down, taking with it most of what remained
of Downtown Townsville.
“Oh wow,” Bubbles exclaimed, tongue hanging from her mouth, “Mr. Anoush is going to be
a veeeeery busy man tomorrow…”
The girls collapsed on the ground, giggling and catching their collective breath. They
chattered about the fight, not noticing how the skies above Townsville were quickly
darkening. It wasn’t until the sun turned black and thunder rumbled in the heavens that the
girls began to feel that something was off.
The Powerpuff Girls climbed back to their feet, standing back to back. Buttercup hissed and
pulled her hand back as a drop of rain hit it. Rain, searing hot like fire, began to fall from the
heavy, steel-gray clouds that had appeared to cover the sky. As the rain picked up, the CXI.21
began to rumble. The girls turned to the robot, taking up their defensive stances.
The robot stopped moving abruptly, going silent for one, two, three seconds. Then...a pillar of
darkness with serrated edges that resembled horns or gnarled roots erupted from the back,
rising high into the air. As it rose, it began to take shape. Towering over the already
devastated city of Townsville, the pillar slowly turned to face the heroines.
His eyes, flaming orbs of utter malice and hatred, opened for the first time in centuries. His
mouth became a dark grin, freshly cut fangs gleaming. When he spread his arms, they
covered the sky, blotting out what light remained until his eyes were the only light the girls
could see. When he spoke, the Earth itself trembled.
"Once again...I am free to smite the world as I did in days long past."
Rain of Evil
Chapter Summary
A storm of supernatural origin settles over the ruins of Downtown Townsville. An evil
being long thought dead has returned, seeking vengeance against the world. The only
thing standing in his way are the Powerpuff Girls, broken and tired from their last fight.
Townsville had fallen silent, save for the hiss and slap of the searing rain crashing into the
broken concrete of the street. The skies had become a shade of black deeper than the darkest
night, broken only by the chilling gray glow of the sun’s light struggling to pierce the clouds
blotting it out. Their steel-gray glow silhouetted the great shadow beast that loomed above
the broken city skyline.
The monster clutched its massive hands, curling in its razor-like fingers. Slowly, its head
turned, scanning the horizon. The goblin’s grin on the shadow’s face grew, a chuckle
rumbling in its throat.
"Such sweet suffering! Such devastation! Hahaha!” The monster drew out each laugh, the
corners of his eyes crinkling with its ever-growing grin.
This human civilization was unlike any he had ever before seen. Though he was surrounded
by wreckage and ruin, in the distance he could see massive constructs of metal and stone,
dwarfing even the greatest buildings and temples of his age. Peering closer still, he could see
them: the vermin that had built this kingdom of steel and cement. They had changed, taller,
their faces no longer gaunt with malnourishment, their bellies fat with excess. They radiated
satisfaction and complacency. And yet, as they returned his gaze, staring at his magnificence
from a good safe distance, he could taste that which he had missed the most.
Their fear.
The monster rose up to his full height, shoulders raising and chest swelling. When he spoke
again, his voice boomed like thunder.
“Foolish mortals! You have flourished in the sunlight in the absence of my darkness.
You build towers to the heavens and your children dream of ever-bright tomorrows.”
The shadow’s voice grew louder and the city shook. His eyes had become slits of blazing
hatred. Though he spoke with excitement in his voice, every word dripped with the poison of
contempt, “You have slept long enough! This world of indulgence and plenty has run its
course, and that course has brought you once again before me!”
Lightning erupted from the steel clouds and thunder exploded in its wake. The creature’s
fists were clenched with such force that its slender arms shook with his fury.
“Though you have forgotten, you shall now remember, and shall never again forget the
unspeakable, eternal evil that is Aku!”
“Hey!”
The creature froze, slowly turning its gaze downward, hunting for the source of the voice.
Despite his imposing presence he found himself peering into unwavering eyes.
With her mitt still thrust out at the monster, Blossom stood, upright and unbending as she
called out the monster.
“What is this? Mere children stand before the mighty Aku? Hahaha!” The demon
laughed uproariously. Folding his arms behind his back, the beast leaned forward, sneering at
the three little girls, “Have you come to save your home by offering yourselves to Aku?”
Blossom lowered her mitt. Her eyes narrowed; her hands rested on her hips. She glanced at
her sisters, then back at the monster.
Aku’s eyes widened, their flames shrinking and his mouth becoming an O-shape as the
children began to float off the ground, rising until they hovered at his eye level. The monster
looked around them, waving his hand through the air above them.
“What the? Flying children?”
Buttercup crossed her arms. She spat at the ground, the spittle hitting with enough force to
crater the broken concrete below.
“Wow, you really are new around here, huh?” she chuckled.
Across from her, Bubbles had her guard up, but spoke with a tinge of playfulness.
“Don’t be mean, Buttercup, he just doesn’t know any better, that’s all.”
“Well, he’s going to find out.” Blossom’s voice was deadly serious, “Since you clearly
haven’t heard, allow us to introduce ourselves,” she began.
“We’re the Powerpuff Girls!” Bubbles continued.
“And if you wanna wreck Townsville, you gotta get through us first,” Buttercup finished.
Aku stood upright, his eyes half-lidded and his mouth a thin line. For several moments, they
faced off in silence broken only by the still burning raindrops. Slowly, his lips curled into a
sinister smile and the flames in his eyes began to burn brighter.
“Is that so? You wish to challenge the almighty Aku?” leaning in closer, he lowered his
voice, his glowing red eyes boring into Blossom’s determined pink ones “You will lose.”
The Powerpuff Leader floated closer, leaning toward him and lowering her voice as well.
“We never lose, especially not to monsters like you,” she replied with a smirk.
Moving with speed that seemed impossible for a creature his size, Aku drew back his
massive hand, claws spreading. Just as quickly, he swung at them, the air screaming as his
blow tore it apart.
“There are no monsters like me!”
The attack sliced through the air, missing the girls, but ripping open the street below. The
force sent any loose concrete and shrapnel flying. Moving with the same supernatural grace
from before, Aku spun around, spying one of the girls, the blonde one, breaking apart from
the group to deal with the wreckage his initial strike had caused. With a booming laugh, the
colossal titan spread his arms wide and brought his palms down toward the fleeing blue
streak.
Another explosion of force erupted into the air when his hands met, resulting in another
shower of debris. The demon brought his clasped hands closer and opened them eagerly. To
his disappointment, instead of finding a tiny splat of blood, he found nothing at all. Aku’s
head jerked to the side, spotting the blue Powerpuff girl on the ground, sticking her tongue
out and blowing a raspberry at him.
“Insolent child!” Aku roared, smashing his fist into the ground. This time, however, he spied
the little blue speck zipping around his blow and flying directly toward his face.
“Take this you big bully!” Bubbles shouted, slamming her fist into his cheek.
The blow caught the demon by surprise, jerking his head to the side. His wide eyes quickly
narrowed. He brought his hand up to slap the side of his face where she had been. Yet again,
the blue-eyed nuisance evaded him. His attention was drawn away from the little girl, instead
to his own hands. Aku clenched his claws and tensed his muscles.
Something was different.
Before Aku had time to ruminate further on that thought, a shower of green sparks appeared
in front of him. He leaned back, just barely avoiding a strike from the green Powerpuff girl.
He hadn’t the time to muster a response before she vanished again in a second flash of
sparks. The demon felt a blow land on his side and turned to face it, finding only sparks once
more. Several more blows collided with his giant frame, each faster than the last.
As Buttercup’s unrelenting assault continued, the surface of Aku’s body began to shimmer
with sinister heat: an unholy, impossible glow of darkness instead of light. A malicious
radiance. An unheavenly darklight. And as the shimmer grew brighter, the growl in his throat
grew louder.
“Enough!” Aku roared, throwing both arms out. The wicked power erupted from the
demon’s flesh, finally catching his speedy attacker. The green speck was sent flying into the
waiting arms of her blue-eyed sister. The demon turned to face them, his eyes burning darker.
Though he was growling, there was grin on his face.
Blossom rushed to her sisters’ sides, her eyes open and taking in everything.
“Are you two alright?” she asked, never taking her gaze off Aku.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, Red,” Buttercup assured her. Despite her protests, Buttercup’s
breathing was labored and she was rubbing her fists, “This guy is made of something even
tougher than Mojo’s robot. I must have hit him like twenty times, but he didn’t even budge.”
Bubbles nodded.
“Yeah, I got him good earlier, but it was like he didn’t even feel it,” she pointed out.
The corners of Blossom’s eyes twitched. She didn’t want to admit it aloud, but the situation
was more dire than her sisters realized. Buttercup had underestimated her own speed: she’d
managed to land forty-three blows on Aku before the monster had enough. Every time her
fist collided with his skin, Blossom could see ripples spreading from the point of contact. The
blow Bubbles had managed to land on the monster’s face was different. Though his skin
didn’t ripple, the look on his face told her that he was more surprised than anything.
“You got a plan, Red?”
Buttercup’s voice snapped Blossom out of her thoughts. She finally let herself blink, rubbing
her watering eyes and trying to keep Aku in sight.
“Punching isn’t going to do anything,” Blossom began, “His body is able to evenly spread the
force from any attack out across its entire surface, reducing the impact to practically nothing.
Though, that property seems limited to the parts of his body that are made of that weird black
substance.”
“So, we need to hit him in the face?” Bubbles asked, nodding as she followed along.
“Sounds good, let’s deck him in the schnoz!” Buttercup prepared to take off, but was stopped
by Blossom snatching her leg and dragging her back.
“That won’t work either! Bubbles is right, his face can’t spread the point of impact like the
rest of his body, but he didn’t seem fazed at all when she hit him before. Punching isn’t going
to work this time.”
The girls’ conversation abruptly ended as Aku plunged toward them, his arms spread and his
claws grasping at the sky. Blossom quickly clenched her eyes shut and then opened them
again, the pink of her irises glowing softly.
“Scatter into Gamma Alpha Golf Adam!”
The trio separated, Blossom and Bubbles shooting off to the sides, while Buttercup charged
headfirst into the monster. Her head colliding with his was enough to bring his charge to a
halt, but also sent her crashing into the ground below. The rubble burst apart as the green-
eyed Powerpuff girl shot back into the air.
“C’mon ugly! It’s just me and you, try to keep up!” Buttercup shouted, slugging the beast in
the cheek with all of her strength.
Aku’s head jerked once more, but he quickly turned back to Buttercup, his grin wider than
ever. The demon laughed as he took a swing at Buttercup, his fist passing through a burst of
sparks. His head jerked to the other side as she collided with his cheek.
“Your speed is truly something to behold, child,” Aku chuckled, swinging his fist through
another shower of sparks. Once again, he found himself at the center of a flurry of blows,
each faster than the last. His eyes darkened and with a jovial, yet sinister howl, a hole
appeared in the center of his body, causing Buttercup to fly through harmlessly.
“What the?” Buttercup turned just in time for Aku’s fists, clutched together like a hammer, to
collide with her, driving her deep into the street below.
Within seconds, she burst from the ground again, her fist slamming into Aku’s nose and
throwing his head backward. Buttercup began to grin, but it vanished when Aku’s face began
to change. In the time it took her to realize what was happening, the demon’s head came
crashing back into hers, knocking her once more into the same crater.
Instead of bursting free, Buttercup stumbled to her feet, holding her head and trying to focus
her vision. The world swam around her, but as it came into view, she spied the demon, his
face now different. His mouth had elongated into a snout, and two great, curved horns rose up
from the top of his head.
Chuckling again, Aku folded his arms behind his back, gazing down at Buttercup as his eyes
burned like two dying suns. His head remained in the shape of a ram as he spoke.
“As I was saying...your speed may be remarkable and your blows fierce, but you are
nothing more than chaff before the storm that is Aku. Strike me again, as many times as
you like! Your efforts shall remain as they are now: utterly wasted.”
Buttercup growled and stomped her foot into the ground. The air around her filled with the
crackle of electricity and a faint green glow radiated from her skin. She dropped to the
ground, her fists slamming into the concrete, obliterating it. Emerald lightning danced around
her, turning the dirt and rock she kicked up into dust.
“I’ll show you wasted!” The lightning surrounding her condensed into her body, causing the
green light around her to flash. When the light cleared, Buttercup was gone. It wasn’t until
her fist collided with Aku’s that the ground where she had taken off from collapsed into the
sewers below.
Buttercup had thrown herself into larger opponents her entire life. Some of her earliest
memories were smashing her fists against creatures bigger than buildings. All of that
experience amounted to nothing as Aku’s fist met hers. She struggled desperately to hold
back his heavy hand just long enough to escape. Her jaw tightened and, for the first time, she
noticed her heart pounding as the demon’s grin darkened.
Aku brought his fist down with meteoric force, slamming Buttercup into the pavement. The
Powerpuff girl’s body bounced into the air, her limbs limp at her sides.
Buttercup opened her eyes. The demon’s dark form loomed over her, changing once again.
Though he shrank, his shoulders grew broader, his arms thick as tree trunks, his shadowy trail
becoming powerful legs with wide feet.
“Let me show you true strength!” Now in the form of a giant ape, Aku slammed his fists
down on Buttercup, sending her once more crashing into the ground. With a feral cry, the
demon came down at her, fists flying and feet stomping, burying her tiny body deeper and
deeper into a concrete tomb of dust and sand. Raising both fists over his head, Aku roared
and brought them down to finish her.
A streak of pink shot across the ground, snatching the beaten girl’s body.
Aku slammed his palms against the ground and turned to give chase. Just as his fingers
prepared to close around the redhead, a searing heat cut him off and drove him away. Smoke
rising from his demonic flesh, Aku rose, returning once more to his true, shadowy form.
“So, you are the next to oppose Aku, child?” Aku looked down at his arm, which was still
steaming from the little girl’s attack. “Fire from your eyes? Impressive! Truly, truly
impressive, child! Come! Show me your power!”
Unlike the green-eyed girl, the blonde kept her distance, even when Aku charged her.
Bubbles took to the sky, unleashing a volley of heat ray blasts on the monster’s back. His
flesh hissed and smoke rose from the impact, but when Aku turned to face her, there was a
gleam in his eyes that chilled her to the bone.
“Do not hold back, child! I shall not show you the same courtesy!” Aku shot upward, his
body twisting in on itself and changing as it had before. His arms were replaced by two great,
dark wings and his nose a long, curved beak. With a cry, Aku soared through the sky like a
jet, just barely missing Bubbles with his razor-sharp talons.
Bubbles kept her lips firmly pressed shut as she flew backward, ducking and weaving around
Aku’s strikes, blasting him with her heat rays on every pass. Though her aim was true on
every shot, they did nothing to slow the creature’s growing frenzy.
“Alright,” she finally whispered, steeling herself as the flying menace came in for another
strike, “Take this!” Slamming her hands together, a wave of supersonic sound erupted from
her mitts, enveloping the bird and driving him backward.
The demon’s eyes burned, the glow of hateful darklight enveloping his form once more. With
a cry, he thrust his wings outward, breaking free from the sonic clap. He prepared to charge
her again, but the sound of a rapid intake of air caught his attention.
The air exploded with a shrill scream, its power far exceeding that of the clap that had nearly
grounded the monster. This time, the monster had no chance to resist, being quickly driven
into the pavement. The sound washed over him like ocean waves during a storm, the sound
piercing into him and digging straight into his skull. Though he couldn’t even hear himself
think, Aku could feel pressure building in his chest. He could feel his own throat swelling.
The afternoon became a hellish cacophony as a booming, yet equally shrill scream joined the
heroine’s. The air between them shook with such force that even solid steel kicked up by
their vocal contest was turned to dust. Though they seemed matched at first, slowly, Bubbles’
throat began to turn raw and her chest began to burn. She could see the bird’s wings spread
and could feel her head swimming.
With one flap of his wings, Aku’s voice ripped through hers, colliding with the wounded
warrior and sending her soaring into the sky. He took off after her, appearing in her path in a
flash. The grin from before never left his face as he hurled himself at her, his beak ramming
into her chest as the pair fell.
It was the sight of an incoming blizzard that deterred Aku from finishing the blonde child in a
single blow. Pulling up just in time to dodge the shards of ice, he watched as the pink streak
from before caught the second heroine and safely deposited her on the ground. He found
himself once again gazing into those unwavering pink eyes.
“And so it has come to this,” Aku mused as he fell to the ground, landing in a puddle before
rising up in his true form. His arms were folded once more behind his back, and now he was
the one wearing a look of smug satisfaction, “Two have fallen, and now you, Powerpuff
girl, stand alone before the unstoppable Aku. Surely what you have observed has shown
you the inevitability of your defeat.”
The red-haired girl glanced back at her fallen sister and, for the briefest moment, Aku felt a
chill in the air that struck him to his core. When she turned back to face him, something was
different. Somehow, the girl had changed. He kept his eyes on her, struggling to keep his
expression neutral as she moved toward him. Her movements were deliberate and calculated.
When she at last came to a stop just within his arm’s reach, somehow he knew it was
intentional.
Neither said anything as they stared each other down. Aku with a smug grin on his face;
Blossom with unblinking eyes and a stern frown.
“I’m going to beat you,” she said, finally breaking the stalemate.
“You can try, but like all other heroes before you, you will fail,” the playful, cruel
confidence in Aku’s voice stood in contrast to the cold fury in hers.
“I’m not doing it because I’m a superheroine,” Blossom shot back, her voice low, but firm.
The pink of her eyes was glowing. When she exhaled, snowflakes fluttered in her breath.
Aku’s eyes narrowed. He could see her fists were shaking. His smile wavered; he recognized
the way she trembled.
It wasn’t fear.
“Oh really?”
Blossom’s eyes narrowed; an outline of burning hot pink surrounded her.

She wasn’t as fast as the green one, no, but when she came at him without answering, Aku
was not prepared for her to suddenly be upon him. He swung his claw at her. With no wasted
movement, she tilted her head to the side, unflinching as his claws grazed her cheek and drew
blood. Before his attack had finished, she launched herself upward and her fist into his cheek.
He felt the chill from her breath and icicles on his skin, then found himself launched into the
sky.
Aku thrust his arms out, bringing himself to a stop in the air. Scanning the sky below for the
girl, a flash of pink passed by just outside of his vision. Turning his head up, he saw her
above him. Her calm expression from before was gone. Her lips were pulled back in a snarl
as she brought both feet down, spiking him back to the ground.
This time, she followed, pummeling him with attacks, each and every blow landing with a
thunderous clap. He lifted his hands to strike back, but she threw herself backward, evading
his grab. Smoke fell from her lips. Aku’s eyes were wide, the glow of the breath of fire above
reflected in their depths. He hit the ground with a colossal crash mere seconds before the
flames caught up.
The demon rose up from the flames quickly. Sparks filled the air; he could smell ozone
gathering nearby.
Blossom thrust her mitts forward, unleashing a massive spray of lightning, concentrated
entirely on Aku. It landed easily, driving the demon back, ripping through the already ruined
streets. Her eyes narrowed, her jaw clenching when he came to a stop. She growled and
pumped more strength into her attack, but she couldn’t stop the first step he took toward her.
“Come now, child! Is this truly the extent of your power?” Aku roared as he shot forward,
his body changing again. His mouth grew into a crocodile’s maw, snapping at the pavement
where she’d once stood. Twisting in midair, Aku pulled his entire body into a ball, avoiding
another stream of fire from the Powerpuff girl’s mouth. His darkness expanded, becoming
eight tentacles, his mouth becoming a beak.
“Speed to race against lightning!” Though she wasn’t as fast as her sister, the red-haired
Powerpuff girl moved as if she already knew where he would strike before he even threw his
attacks. Those that came too close were met with a fistful of lightning.
“Strength that can move mountains!” Aku retracted into himself and emerged as a great
ape once more. He shot into the sky, throwing a punch that sailed harmlessly past the
Powerpuff girl. When he turned to throw a kick, he felt the temperature around them drop
abruptly. He lunged forward, reaching for her with both of his massive hands. The blizzard
she exhaled sent him spiraling backward, toppling what remained of the last building
standing on that block.
Aku rose once again, shielding his eyes from the unrelenting winter winds created by the girl.
Icicles had formed within her breath and fired at him, attempting to shred him like tissue
paper. They bounced harmlessly off his skin, but succeeded in slowing his advance. Aku
clenched his own jaw shut, and drew in a breath.
Blossom ducked out of the way as a wall of fire that dwarfed her own poured through the
shattered streets. When at last it faded, it left behind countless raging flames, metal reduced
to smelt and stones turned to blackened ash. She turned toward Aku, her eyes widening as his
fangs came down on her.
Twisting away from the bite, Blossom backed away from the serpent—its body too long to
see the end, its mouth wide enough to devour buildings—slithering closer. She clenched her
teeth and swallowed the lump in her throat.
His grin never left his face.
“Command over the elements! Hahaha! Yes, you Powerpuff girls truly are super
heroes.” Aku lunged at Blossom again, scooping up a mouthful of rubble as she dodged
away from his strike. With a resounding crunch, he swallowed the debris in a single gulp and
lunged at her again, “You Powerpuff Girls possess abilities that put heroes such as
Achilles and even Herakles to shame.”
Blossom gasped, taking to the sky to avoid a swipe of Aku’s tail. She watched as it continued
past her, releasing a wave of devastation that turned the ruins of Downtown Townsville into
little more than a pile of ash. The corners of her eyes were watering. Her pupils were shaking.
A fleck of dust, kicked up by Aku’s attack, landed in her eye.
For the first time since the fight began, Blossom blinked.
Her arm, already injured from the previous fight, exploded with searing pain, fresh blood
pouring from the reopened wound. Blossom screamed and grabbed her arm, blindly twisting
away from where Aku had struck. The air was forced from her lungs as a heavy blow landed
on her back and smashed her into the ground below.
“But, I ask you, child. What is a hero before a god? Have you the quickness to outrun
death?” Aku looped around Blossom’s body, until his coils consumed her, leaving just her
head poking out. With a wicked chuckle, he squeezed until she cried out. “Can your
strength sunder the very planet beneath your feet?”
Blossom screamed again, feeling her bones crunch and more blood ooze from her arm as the
snake crushed her again. Screwing her mouth shut, she forced her eyes open and glared into
the serpent’s gaze.
“Now ask yourself, girl,” Aku hissed, “What is a god before Aku?”
The serpent leaned in closer. He didn’t loosen his coils, nor did he crush her. Tilting his head
to the side, Aku gazed long into her eyes. A movement on her cheek stole his attention. Her
blood. Realization flickered in his stare, drawing him closer. With a tenderness utterly
unbecoming of him, he brushed his lips against her cheek.
It was the same blood.
Tears that she’d been holding back rolled down Blossom’s cheeks. She tried to pull away as
he came closer to her, but his hold was suffocating. The light in her eyes flickered as
realization dawned on her. She couldn’t escape.
She shivered as his hold changed. He was coming closer, staring unblinking into her eyes.
His line of sight shifted to her cheek and he seemed drawn toward her. When his lips touched
the cut on her cheek, Blossom’s head snapped back and her back arched. It was like fire
pouring into her veins, spreading through her body. She managed a strangled cry before he
finally pulled away. She felt on fire, the cut on her cheek and gash on her arm blazing.
She couldn’t hear. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. All she could feel was pain.
His voice broke the spell on her.
“You cannot hope to defeat Aku, child.” he crooned, his words warm even as venom
dripped from every one of them.
The screeching of tires caught the demon’s attention. Aku twisted around, spotting some kind
of metal carriage nearby. The door opened and…
His hair wild and frayed, his body scarred, but not broken.
Aku hissed, drawing backward and tossing the red-haired girl aside. He returned to his true
form, his grin finally gone, replaced by a mask of burning hatred. His eyes ignited into
blazing stars and his form grew. Sharper claws, sharper fangs, all of his hatred poured out
into his form as the man who had taken everything from him approached.
“YOU!” Aku roared and swung his hand down to crush the man. Before the blow could land,
the man hurled something at him. The crash of glass was quickly masked by the unholy
screech of the monster. Aku reared back in horror, watching as the strange orange liquid the
man had flung at him ate through his hand like a flame through paper.
“NO! NO!” Aku cried, tearing his own arm off and watching as it melted away to nothing on
the ground. He turned to the man, who was already reaching into his satchel for another
bottle of that accursed orange liquid. All of his hate vanished, replaced by fear. With a cry,
Aku rose up into the air, drawing his body into a point and becoming a bird. He opened his
mouth to speak, but another bottle was already on its way for him. With a hypersonic screech,
the monster fled, disappearing into the clouds overhead.
The Professor’s breathing was labored, his heart racing as he watched the monster from his
grandfather’s stories flee. He looked down at the vial of Antidote-X in his hand and tucked it
away into his satchel. Rain continued to pour down from the heavens, no longer like fire, but
like freezing tears. Pushing his dripping hair away from his eyes, the Professor hurried over
to his daughters.
“G-girls! Girls don’t worry, Daddy's here!”
While the Professor tended to the city’s fallen heroines, just out of sight, another scientist
watched in silence. Mojo Jojo turned his gaze skyward.
That beast had called itself Aku.

It had defeated the Powerpuff Girls as if they were nothing.
And the Professor knew how to stop it.
Careful to avoid drawing attention to himself, Mojo Jojo slipped away. His lips moved
soundlessly as he scratched his chin in contemplation. Lightning flashed overhead. Though it
was just an instant, Mojo’s shadow changed. It seemed to be grinning.
The Wheel Begins to Turn
Chapter Summary
Ms. Keane and the Professor worry about what the future holds in the aftermath of the
girls defeat at the hands of Aku. While the Professor takes a trip down memory lane, one
of the girls is plagued by nightmares.
“Bye, Ms. Keane!” a cheerful voice called out.
Ms. Keane waved as the last of her students hurried out to meet their father, the little boy
chattering excitedly as the pair hurried to escape from the pouring rain. With a sigh, the
teacher watched the raindrops hit the pavement, her smile fading as her lips pressed into a
firm line. Scanning the room one last time for stragglers, she pulled the door shut and made
her way to the backdoor. Pulling it open, her eyes were immediately drawn to the smoke-
filled sky above the trees.
After three years teaching the Powerpuff Girls, Ms. Keane had grown accustomed to their
frequent departures. They were, after all, the very reason the girls had been forced to attend
kindergarten well after they had anything to learn from it. She’d always admired and cared
for them, sweet girls that they were, but she wouldn’t have blamed them for being resentful
of her. She was the one refusing to let them go, even after they were ready to move on. And
yet, they continued to show up every morning, each greeting her in her own way, but always
with a smile.
Though she cared for all her students, her fondness for the girls had continued to grow day
after day, year after year. She wasn’t sure what to make of these feelings at first. She
discovered the reason when they left one day to battle a monster. Though it was a common
enough occurrence, she spent the next two lessons restlessly watching the hole in the ceiling
and listening for them. When they finally returned during naptime, the unease that had
gripped her heart released until it swelled with excitement. Speaking in hushed tones, the
girls had regaled her with the details of their battle. It was in that moment, hanging on to
every word, gasping at every twist, and quietly cheering when the girls finally overcame the
beast, that it became clear.
She missed them when they were gone. She worried for them when they fought. And nothing
made her happier than seeing their tri-colored rainbow flash across the sky moments before
they landed at her doorstep, smiling and greeting her like they did every day prior. It was true
that Ms. Keane cared dearly for all of her students...but, she loved the Powerpuff Girls.
“What is happening out there…” she murmured as the ground shook once more. There were
no reporters on the scene, no daredevils with cameras swooping by to capture the girls’ battle
with whatever had brought the storm raging overhead. There was nothing but the earth
quaking beneath her feet and the distant sound of buildings collapsing.
An eerie stillness filled the air. The teacher held her breath, her hands clasped so hard her
nails dug into her skin. Her hand flew to her mouth to smother a gasp as the silence was
broken by a horrible screech.
“Girls?” she called out, leaving the shelter of the doorframe and rushing out into the
playground. She slid to a halt, nearly tumbling over when she spied a dark shape rising up
over the trees. Not even the rain chilled her so profoundly as watching that shape soar
overhead. Her eyes followed it until it disappeared over the horizon.
She remained frozen in place until a crack of thunder overhead brought her back to the
present. With another gasp, she glanced in the direction of the smoke, then turned and hurried
back into the school.
The Professor sat on the edge of the girls’ bed, pulling the covers up to Buttercup’s chin. He
smiled when his little fighter rolled over, though it failed to reach his eyes when she moaned
and drifted back into a fitful sleep. Leaning down, he lightly kissed her cheek and ran his
hand through her wild hair.
Turning his attention to the others, the Professor’s smile faded entirely. Bubbles was latched
onto Blossom’s side, her face half-buried between the pillows and the redhead’s hair. She was
softly moaning with each breath, her tiny body trembling with the rise and fall of her chest.
Blossom was lying on her back, breathing heavily. There was a thin shin of sweat across her
brow and her cheeks were flushed with heat. Every so often, she tensed and whimpered as
she tried to pull her bandaged arm from the sling he’d placed it in. She held a fistful of her
nightgown tight in her hand, tugging at it whenever her body seized up.
The Professor frowned and reached out, caressing her cheek. He could already see the dark
stain of blood beneath the fresh bandage. Drawing in a long breath, he turned away, leaning
forward and staring at the floor. He couldn’t get the monster’s face out of his head, nor could
he forget its expression of pure, unbridled hatred as it lunged for him. He looked up, hearing
the phone downstairs ringing.
With one last look back at his daughters, the Professor climbed to his feet and made his way
to the living room downstairs.
“Hello?” he answered, his voice tired and low.
“James? How are they? Is everything alright?”
The Professor smiled, in spite of himself, and picked up the phone, moving over to the couch.
He collapsed into the soft cushions, a moan rumbling in his throat before he could stop it.
“They’ll recover, Cass,” he assured her. The Professor could hear the girls’ teacher audibly
relax on the other end of the line. He chuckled, hearing the sound of little chair legs scraping
across the classroom floor, “You’re still at work?”
“Geoffrey’s dad was running a bit late to pick him up,” Ms. Keane paused before adding in a
soft voice, “I didn’t want to leave in case they came back.”
In the past, if their work took them beyond school hours, the girls would hurry home. After
their first year being held back, part of the agreement he and the school had worked out was
that they would always stop back in to officially “sign out” for the day before heading home.
In the last year, the girls had taken to heading back without needing to be reminded. In fact,
the Professor was more often the one left waiting, as the girls stayed late to fill their teacher
in on every minute detail of their heroic deeds.
“I’m sorry, I was going to call, but…” The Professor ran his hand through his hair, “It must
have slipped my mind, Cass.”
“It’s alright, James, I understand...what happened? I saw some kind of shadow creature
fleeing from the city.”
“Mm…” the Professor’s hand slipped into his pocket, taking out his pipe. Rapping the old
wooden thing against his knee, he continued, “They lost…”
The Professor began to fill Ms. Keane in on what few details he had. Though his mind was
racing, he found himself able to relax as he spoke to her. Small rings of smoke filled the air
above the living room with the scent of his tobacco.
Their relationship had been a complicated one, even more so than his daughters realized. Two
of the brightest students at Townsville Central High, they’d been friends from the day the
girls saved his life. Even now, decades later, the thought of how seriously they’d competed to
be their class’s valedictorian never failed to bring a smile to his face. And the realization that,
for all their efforts and playful bickering, they ultimately tied for second place behind the
stunningly beautiful and brilliant Sara Bellum.
They drifted apart when the Professor, fresh out of college, left town to chase after his
scientific pursuits. His discovery of the source eventually consumed him, leading to years of
sleepless nights and caffeine-fueled experimentation. It was ultimately his research into the
source, and creation of Chemical X, that led them back together...
It was during those first experiments with the source that she came back into his life. The
Professor had been up for days, pouring over his notes as one after another, his experiments
failed to produce anything more than destruction and more wasted money.
The young man was barely recognizable as the fresh-faced young scientist who had moved
into the university just a few years prior. His eyes were bloodshot, his face covered in an
unkempt, scratchy beard. His heavy eyelids threatened to shut, but the thermos of coffee ever
at his side kept the sandman at bay.
Pouring through his notebook, he found himself coming back to his grandfather’s story every
time he was stuck. Though he couldn’t prove it, he was certain that the source was connected
to the monster from his family’s past. And, just as it had terrorized his ancestors, so too did it
torment him, draining every minute, every hour from his day, refusing to bend to his
experimentation. The answer, he was certain, was near. And yet, whenever he felt it in his
grasp, it slipped through his fingers in another explosion or another abomination.
This time was sure to be different, the Professor thought as he carefully sat the parcel that had
just arrived for him on his table. His fingers shook as he cut open the tape and peeled back
the paper lining. Gently, he removed the small pouch and set it on the table. Peering inside, a
tired smile spread across his face.
It had taken every promise under the sun, but he had managed to convince his grandfather to
give him a tiny sample of their family’s most treasured heirloom. Said to be the sword that
slew the great monster of old, the scientist was excited to see what properties the metal
powder might have.
And so, more sleepless nights and further caffeine-driven equations had led him to yet
another failure. This time, though, there was the slightest glimmer of hope. Though he had
failed to find a way to stabilize the source, he had found a way to change it. Staring at the
beaker of cold orange liquid beside him, the Professor restlessly tapped his pen against his
notebook.
“Something is still off…” he murmured. He ran the numbers for the hundredth time, but he
couldn’t seem to find a different outcome. With a frustrated growl, he threw his notebook
aside and buried his face in his hands. He was close, so very, very close, but he couldn’t
make the numbers come out right. This late into his work, there was no one else to whom he
could turn. The scientific community barely tolerated him; the university was on the verge of
evicting him. Even if he had someone he could reach out to, he doubted he’d be able to find
someone who could make the numbers work in time.
Utonium was a genius scientist, but to solve the mystery behind the source, he needed a
genius mathematician. One that he could trust.
“Hah…” he sighed, climbing to his feet. His knees buckled and his shoulders sank. If he was
going to be evicted, he figured now would be his last chance to sleep in a warm bed. Yawning
and scratching his beard, the Professor shuffled to where his notebook had fallen and bent
over with a groan.
When he picked it up, he happened to glance at the page to which it had turned. His eyes fell
on a name that he hadn’t so much as uttered in years. Heart-pounding in his chest, he
clutched his notebook tight, not daring to set it down lest he lose that page, and hurried to the
telephone in his lab. The receiver shook in his grasp as he lifted it from the cradle.
The click of the rotary phone was the only sound save for his ragged breathing. Licking his
lips, he turned the dial to the last number and let go. He didn’t dare breathe as the phone
began to ring. His mouth fell open when a tired voice on the other end answered, yawning.
“Hello?”
“C-Cassandra?”
“Mmhmm, who is this?”
“It’s um...it’s James. James Utonium.”
“Ja...James Utonium? Oh my gosh...oh I’m sorry. James, it’s three in the morning, is
everything alright?”
The Professor looked down at his notebook, his hands shaking. Swallowing his nerves, he
turned back to his equations. Drawing in a trembling breath, he licked his lips again.
“I know it’s been a long time...but...do you still like math puzzles?”
His heart skipped a beat when she snorted and giggled.
“James, don’t be silly.”
“It’s just...I have this equation, it’s, um...I’ve spent years trying to solve it and if I can then,
then maybe,” The Professor shook his head, “No, I know that if I can solve it, I’ll be able to
create something amazing.”
When she remained silent, he continued, stumbling over his words.
“I-I-I know that sounds...it sounds impossible, especially coming from me. But, Cass, I really
mean it. What I’m working on...it’s going to change the world. But, I’m stuck. No matter
what I try to do to make the pieces fit, it just doesn’t work. I...I…”
She interrupted him; her voice soft and airy, but tinged with excitement.
“What’s the equation, James?”
The Professor sat in his lab, staring at an inconspicuous panel on the wall. He had said his
goodbyes to Ms. Keane over an hour ago and had retreated downstairs after checking on the
girls. He held his old notebook loosely in his hands. The pages were crumpled and stained,
the ink smudged and faded. Tearing his eyes away from that spot on the wall, the Professor
looked down at his notes, flipping through the pages. He landed on the page for which he’d
been searching, eyes darting back and forth to read the words.
It had been one of his most closely guarded secrets, but the substance that had brought him
success wasn’t really Chemical X. No, the formula that he had marketed as Chemical X and
used to make his mark on the scientific community was a fake.
He ran his hand across the page, fingers tracing the letters of the countless warnings he’d
written, outlined numerous times in red ink.
His final experiment had been a success. The combination of the three ingredients had led to
the source being stabilized into a substance of infinite, unyielding power. The problem, he
quickly discovered, was that it had been just that: unyielding power. Even a drop of Chemical
X was enough to power a continent for years. Any contact with the substance imbued organic
matter with inhuman, supernatural abilities that far exceeded those of any meta-humans of
the time. And yet, even stabilized, the intensity of the source remained, not weakened by the
combination of ingredients, but emboldened by them.
He realized within hours that he could never give the world Chemical X. Just as surely as it
would change the world, he knew that it could destroy it just as easily. With that knowledge,
he quickly began work on an alternative. Using what he’d learned working with the source,
he was able to quickly synthesize a new substance with properties that resembled the source,
but without the catastrophic possibilities of the source’s infinite potential. This substance was
the “Chemical X” that he shared with the world. With the success afforded him by that fake
Chemical X, the Professor found his way back to Townsville, where he hid the original, the
true source, in his heavily fortified home laboratory.
The Professor never gave up on trying to find a way to use Chemical X for good. Maybe that
was why he kept it so close, out on his desk instead of under lock and key. If he had treated it
with the respect it deserved, it would have been kept beside its sister chemical, hidden away
from the world. But...he let his gaze drift toward the staircase. Were it not for his negligence,
his daughters may have never been born.
He turned back to face the wall, the smile quickly leaving his lips. With a sigh, the Professor
reached forward and tapped on seemingly random parts of the wall. The metal plate slid back,
frigid air escaping from the safe. Slipping on a thick glove, he reached into the vault and
removed a beaker, filled with an eerily still orange liquid.
His first attempt to combine the divine metal powder with the source hadn’t ended like his
other experiments. It had succeeded in changing the source, changing it from a living black
tar into a lifeless orange liquid. Still viscous, but not as thick as the source, the substance
sloshed around the beaker as the Professor held it at arm’s length.
The source had been a substance of immense, perpetual radiation. Even years after its
discovery, it continued to radiate an unnatural darkness. Combining part of the source with
the metal powder had resulted in the exact opposite. It no longer gave off a light of its own,
instead draining everything about it. Light, heat, electricity, it didn’t matter. Anything that
came close to the orange liquid was devoured, leaving nothing behind.
This was the true counterpart to Chemical X. While the former represented variable potential
and endless possibilities, the latter was a constant. It could not change and could only
consume, reducing anything it touched to nothing. The true Antidote-X: Substance Zero.
As he expected, contact with Substance Zero had proven potentially fatal for the demon.
They could destroy Aku by utilizing Substance Zero. But, if it could kill the source itself,
what effect could it have on them?
The Professor’s gaze hardened and without further consideration, he shoved the substance
back into the safe, sealing it shut once more. Snatching his notebook, the Professor slid to his
feet and made his way to the stairs. They would find another way.
She gasped, struggling to catch her breath as the rain poured down from above. Though she
could swim in lava and fly near the sun, every droplet that touched her skin seared her unlike
anything she’d ever before felt. She tried to scream, but there was no air in her lungs. She
tried to move, but her body refused, hanging limp in the air. She tried to look away, but the
darkness refused to let her go as it coalesced around her, forming a gnarled root, pinning her
in place. The root continued to grow, stretching into the inky depths of the heavens, sprouting
brilliant green leaves and succulent red fruit from its many crooked limbs.
Her mouth watered and she realized that she was starving. The fruit seemed to glow, drawing
her attention and holding it. She tried again to move her limbs, but the root was far too
heavy. The darkness was far too strong.
Her eyes snapped to the side, hearing a rustling in the leaves. A sinister voice echoed around
her, its laughter louder than the pouring rain. Amidst the leaves she could see it moving,
though its skin, darker still than the night in which she was trapped, was barely visible
against the trunk of the tree. She heard him hiss and felt his breath on her cheek.
“Why do you resist?” His dark words were like warm honey, even as they burned her soul
like poison.
She felt her cheek splitting open, blood dribbling down to her chin. The black roots tightened
their hold as the serpent came into view.
Its mouth was a grin of razor-sharp fangs and malice. Its eyes were blazing suns of raw hate,
boring into hers. The longer she gazed into his eyes, the quicker the fire filled her from head
to toe.
She blinked and he was in her face. She could see herself reflected in his eyes.
“You cannot hope to defeat Aku, child.”
His words, once warm and alluring, smashed into her like a heavy weight. She felt something
inside her crack. She finally found her voice, screaming when the serpent sank his fangs into
her cheek. His poison flooded her veins, filling her with fire. As the heat rose, her voice
began to crack. As she turned her eyes to the sky, she couldn’t feel where the fire ended and
she began. And, as the rain began to pool beneath her feet, she realized she was no longer
screaming.
She was laughing.
“Blossom? Blossom! Wake up!”
“You’re dreaming! Get up, Bloss!”
The red-haired girl sat upright, her voice cracking as she finally stopped screaming. Her head
swiveled left and right, her eyes wide and unfocused as she struggled to comprehend her
surroundings. Unable to move her arm, she began to panic, scrambling out of the sling
holding her arm and tossing it to the side. Finally free, she wrapped her arms around her
middle and choked back another cry. The heat was gone and she’d never felt more cold. That
thought lasted only a moment before a warm body pressed against her, pulling her into a
gentle embrace.
“It’s okay, Blossom, shh..” Bubbles cooed, rubbing her sister’s back and smoothing her hair,
just as Blossom had done for her countless times before, “It was just a bad dream, it’s over
now.”
Unable to find the words to speak, Blossom simply nodded, resting her cheek against
Bubbles’ as she returned her embrace.
“It felt so real,” she managed after several attempts. She couldn’t hold back the light airy
moan that escaped when another warm body pressed against her back and a pair of strong
arms wrapped around her waist.
None of them wanted the moment to end, but, eventually, someone had to speak.
“We lost…” Blossom whispered, her voice cracking. Untangling herself from her sisters’
embraces, she stared down at the sheets, those two words echoing in her head. The demon’s
dark laughter flashed in her memories and her mitt flew to her arm. The pain had dulled, but,
faintly, she could still feel it burning. Hearing her sister scoff, Blossom glanced over at
Buttercup.
The raven-haired heroine had picked up her fuzzy green blanket, holding it close to her chest
as she glared at the shadows in the far corner of the room.
“He got lucky. He just caught us off guard,” she said, rubbing her cheek against her blanket.
Bubbles nodded, now hugging her favorite stuffed octopus.
“And we were tired from fighting Mojo,” she added. She turned to their strangely silent
leader, “Right, Blossom?”
If she could hear what Bubbles was saying, Blossom made no indication of the sort. Arms
wrapped around her knees, she stared out the window, in the direction of Townsville. The sky
was no longer filled with smoke, but looking further with her ultra-super vision, she could
see the devastation that their failure had left behind. Destruction was commonplace for
Townsville, but not on this level. What was once Downtown was now a wasteland of ash and
rubble.
The fires had at last been doused by the rain, a river of sludge and smelt pouring into open
sewers below. The usual reconstruction teams were stuck at the edge of the battleground,
searching for any casualties and trying to clear a path through the rubble for the number of
vehicles that needed to pass through. Though the city had the best construction crews in the
world, it would surely be weeks, at best, before the busiest part of town returned to anything
resembling normal.
How had they survived? The monster, Aku, had beaten them so handily, laughing off their
strongest efforts and pounding them into the dirt without remorse. She vaguely recalled the
sound of someone approaching, but once the demon released his hold on her, she’d slipped
into unconsciousness.
Distantly, she heard her sisters speaking. Whether they were speaking to her or around her,
she couldn’t know. But, they stopped when she finally broke her silence.
“Who...saved us?” Blossom asked suddenly, looking around the room. She turned to Bubbles,
who shook her head, then to Buttercup, who merely shrugged.
“Girls, are you awake?”
Like a switch being flipped, the soothing sound of their father’s voice was all it took for the
superheroines to vanish, replaced by the eight-year-old girls that they were.
“Professor!”
The trio flew from the bed, into their father’s waiting arms. He shushed them and kissed each
of them on the head. Blossom was the first to look up from their embrace. She could see the
worry in her father’s eyes, but it was different from usual. Instead of the panicked,
overprotective worry she’d come to find endearing, there was a look of seriousness, of total
focus that she only saw when she assisted him in his lab. And, though he smiled and hushed
them, she could see that his smile didn’t reach his haunted eyes.
“What’s wrong, Professor?” she asked.
The Professor drew in a long breath and released it in one tired sigh. Turning to each of the
girls, he offered them a gentle smile, then motioned for them to follow him.
“Let’s go down to the living room. We have a lot to discuss.”

The Root of Evil
Chapter Summary
The Professor tells the girls about the origin of Chemical X and Aku. While the
Utonium family try to come up with a plan, the demon himself finds a new home.
Gathered at the table in the dining room, the air rich with the scent of coffee and the bubbling
of the coffee maker brewing another pot, the girls watched their father run back and forth
from the refrigerator to the counter. Hands full, he came back to the table, setting a glass in
front of each of the girls: chocolate milk with a bending straw for Bubbles, orange juice for
Buttercup, and water for Blossom. His work done, the Professor took his seat, and a long
drink from his coffee.
Blossom stared at her drink, watching the ice cubes clink around the glass and a trickle of
condensation roll down the side. She glanced at Bubbles, who was leaning against the table,
chin on her mitts, straw barely in her mouth as she took tiny sips and stared at their father.
Turning to her other side, she saw Buttercup, her glass already half empty with orange juice
trickling down her chin. She wordlessly thanked the Professor when he offered her napkin.
The redhead first turned back to her water, the ice cubes were already half their original size,
then to her father.
“Professor, what happened? You said we had a lot to talk about.” Though she tried to seem
calm, Blossom couldn’t help flinching when her voice cracked.
The Professor leaned back in his chair, setting his mug down. He reached into his lab coat
pocket, fingers grazing his pipe. His lips twitched and he considered taking it out. But,
looking across the table at his daughters, all of them staring at him expectantly, he sighed and
let it be.
“In all the years I studied Chemical X, I never imagined it would come to this,” the Professor
began, “I think, on some level, I always knew what it was I was tampering with, but...I had
hoped that my good intentions would be enough to prevent this from happening.”
“What do you mean, Professor?” Bubbles asked, her chocolate milk gone, her straw now
dangling from her mouth as she chewed on the end.
“Yeah, what’s Chemical X got to do with anything?” Buttercup added.
Blossom’s gaze fell back on her water. The ice cubes were nearly gone. As one of them
clinked against the glass, her mouth fell open, realization reflected in her eyes.
“Oh my gosh,” she murmured, drawing the attention of her sisters. Looking up at the
Professor, she tilted her head, her voice incredulous, “It’s him isn’t it? He’s where Chemical
X came from!”
“What?!” Bubbles and Buttercup exclaimed in unison, turning to the Professor.
The Professor smiled. Of course she’d figure it out.
“That’s not the entire story, but...it’s also not incorrect,” drinking the rest of his coffee, the
Professor began his story, “As a young scientist, eager to prove myself to my peers and
mentors, I took an unusual position as a scientific consultant to an excavation in the Shizuoka
Prefecture in Japan. There was an unusual location in the woods, a place where plants refused
to grow and animals refused to set foot. The team had been digging for weeks before I
arrived, but once I was on site, it was only a few days before they discovered something. I
don’t remember just how deep the hole they dug was, but from the bottom, you couldn’t see
the sun, even in the middle of the day.”
“Woah,” Buttercup whispered, leaning forward, “That’s sick, Professor.”
The Professor chuckled and nodded.
“It was definitely sick, Buttercup.” His smile grew smaller, sincere, but solemn, “At the
bottom of the pit, there was a small pool of a completely alien substance. It seemed to hate
light, snuffing out natural or artificial lights that got too close, and gave off a unique radiation
signature unlike anything we’d ever seen. We thought it was liquid at first, but, the more we
studied it, the more we began to realize that, although it didn’t truly think, it was alive. And
the energy it gave off was...incredible.”
“I called it ‘the source’, due to the endless power it seemed to possess. I had thought it would
take a monumental effort, but when I asked if I could take it...there were no objections. I was
beside myself, so excited that I never thought to ask why they would just give it to me.”
The Professor continued, explaining the different experiments he performed on the source
with such incredible detail, it was as if he’d done them earlier in the day. His excitement
dwindled as he explained how, one after another, his experiments failed and his reputation
soured. He had been desperate, searching for any clue that could give him the breakthrough
he needed.
Pausing his story to refill his mug, the Professor gathered his notebook from the counter and
returned to the table, setting it down and sliding it across to the girls.
Blossom snatched the notebook, eyes darting back and forth across the page as her sisters
moved closer to peer over her shoulders.
“Throughout my studies,” he continued as the girls read his notes, “I found myself drawn
time and again to an old story my grandfather told my brother and me. It frustrated me at
first. Why was I wasting my time thinking about fairy tales when I had what could have been
the greatest discovery in human history right in front of me? And then...it dawned on me.”
The Professor rose from his seat and moved to the other side of the table. He thanked her
when Buttercup flew out of her seat and offered it to him. Gently retrieving his notebook
from Blossom, he flipped through the pages until finding a photograph. The girls moved
closer to him, Buttercup leaning over his shoulder, Bubbles on his lap, and Blossom at his
side.
The photograph was of a series of drawings. A burning city. A robed hero with a shining
sword. And…
“That’s him!” Bubbles exclaimed, pointing at the monster looming over the hero. Though it
lacked detail, it was unmistakable: the crooked horns, the fangs, and the flaming eyes.
“Aku…” Blossom whispered, resting her cheek against the Professor’s arm. As if moving on
its own, her hand rose to touch the bandage on her cheek.
“Long ago, a terrible monster ravaged the early nation of Japan. Mortal weapons couldn’t
harm it, and in minutes, it rendered the great kingdom little more than ashes and ruin. All
seemed lost, until the son of the Emperor, a samurai called Imagawa Shinjiro, returned with a
weapon forged by the gods. He struck down the monster, certain that it had been destroyed
forever. Though their kingdom was forgotten to history, the bloodline of the Samurai, the
Imagawa line, continued. His sword, the same one that had slain the monster, was passed
down through the generations...until it was left in the care of my great-grandmother, Imagawa
Ashina.”
“What?!”
“You’re Japanese?”
“We have a great-grandma?”
“We have a sword?”
The Professor nodded, chuckling.
“Yes, yes, and yes. When my grandfather immigrated to the United States, it was...a difficult
time to be Japanese in America. So, he took a new name: Mathias Utonium,” the Professor
turned the page, showing a black and white photograph of his grandfather as a young man,
arm-in-arm with his grandmother, “Due to the circumstances of the time, my father was
encouraged to assimilate, and as a result, when we were finally born, my brother and I grew
up with little ties to our Japanese heritage. One thing we did have; however, was the story of
the Samurai. Every visit, or before bed when staying the night, my grandfather would tell us
about Imagawa Shinjiro.”
“I grew up admiring my ancestor, a man who had saved the world from darkness, just to have
his name and kingdom disappear from history. My grandfather always told us that while
Shinjiro’s swordsmanship was unparalleled, earning him the title of Kensei, or ‘Sword Saint’,
it wasn’t his strength or his skill that slew the monster. It was his unbreakable will, his...oh,
how did Jiji say it?” The Professor scratched his chin and pursed his lips. As he thought, he
glanced at the girls, his concentration replaced by a warm swelling in his chest. They were
staring up at him expectantly, expressions a mix of excitement and intrigue.
“That’s right,” the Professor said with a smile. He turned the page in his notebook, showing
another photograph of another painting. This one depicted the Samurai, sheathed in white
light, standing over the defeated monster. ”It was his Spirit of Unyielding Righteousness that
allowed him to slay the monster.”
“So...so our family is, um...it’s like, our job to fight him, right?” Bubbles asked, carefully
taking the photograph to admire the artistry.
“Professor!” Buttercup exclaimed, clapping him on the shoulder, “Why didn’t you tell us
this?! That’s so freaking cool! We’re a family of demon slayers!”
Blossom’s smile quickly faded, however, as her eyes continued to scan the Professor’s notes.
“But, how did he come back, Professor? And how did you save us from him?” she asked, her
voice growing softer with every word. She pressed her mitt tight against the bandage on her
cheek, certain she could feel blood trickling down her skin. When she pulled her hand away,
though, it was clean.
The Professor sighed and wrapped his arm around Blossom, careful not to agitate the
bandage on her arm.
“With some help from a friend, I managed to find a way to stabilize the source, creating
Chemical X. But, I quickly realized that it was far more powerful than I could have ever
imagined. I couldn’t put it out into the world, there would be no telling what harm it could
cause in the wrong hands.”
He told them about the fake Chemical X, and how it changed his life. He told them how he
returned to Townsville, and how, by chance, he left the beaker of the true Chemical X sitting
out on his desk. For a moment, he considered telling them about Substance Zero, but quickly
cast those thoughts aside.
“You see girls, you were made from the real Chemical X. It’s why your powers have
continued growing, unlike the monsters and creatures changed by the synthetic chemical. It’s
why, until today, you’ve never found a challenge you couldn’t overcome. You are…” the
Professor paused to choose his words carefully. No matter how many times he tried to
rephrase it, he couldn’t help but say, “You’re everything I had hoped Chemical X could be.
Infinite potential to change the entire world for the better.”
The Professor got up from his seat, stretching his back and once again fumbling with his
pipe. Giving in to his vice, he quickly packed the bowl and lit a match. He took several puffs
before continuing.
“The explosion that created you must have triggered something in what remained of the
source. I don’t know how, but it escaped the house and spent the last three years gathering its
strength. Something happened during your fight with Mojo that allowed him to return, but
I’m still not sure what.”
Blossom slid into the seat the Professor had abandoned, bringing her mitt to her chin,
mirroring her father.
“He was inside the Robo Jojo’s core,” she pointed out, “when he appeared, he came out of
the hole that Bubbles and I created with our last attack. He must have been draining the Robo
Jojo’s power throughout the fight, and the explosion of the robot’s core acted like a…”
“Like a spark,” the Professor continued, “like a defibrillator reviving someone whose heart
has stopped.”
Blossom’s hands crept up to her face, covering her mouth. She began to tremble as she
envisioned the menacing darklight that had surrounded the monster. Her arm began to hurt as
she recalled the moment she and Bubbles passed through the Robo Jojo’s core.
“We brought him back.”
Soaring through the skies, its path unsteady and wavering, a great black bird sailed across the
river at the edge of Townsville, into the neighboring jungle of concrete and steel. The
creature drew in ragged breaths, favoring its right side. With a screech, the creature crashed
onto the rooftop of one of the city’s countless constructs. Lying in a heap on the stone floor,
the creature rolled over onto its back, staring up at the sky. The sun was beginning to set,
casting the heavens above into a mix of orange and purples, hidden behind the haze that filled
the air.
“What is this place?” Aku asked aloud as he rose up in his true form. He gazed down at the
arm that had been destroyed, flexing his fingers and wincing as he recalled the pain from
earlier. Though it had burned away his flesh, it had been cold as the vacuum of space. The
result was the same, but the weapon was unlike the accursed samurai’s blade.
Gazing out across the horizon, Aku folded his arms behind his back. He was struck by how
different this place was from the place he had fled. The air was thick with smoke and
pollution, and the streets were alive with the sounds of chaos: countless sirens blaring from
all directions, people shouting and cursing, and the sound of gunfire.
Drawing in a deep breath, Aku growled in satisfaction at the taste of negativity in the air.
“Mmm, very good.” Aku spread his arms, grinning as he envisioned the entire city within
his grasp, “This settlement, this...” Aku glanced at a nearby billboard: Welcome to
Citiesville, “Citiesville! A fine name for the formation of a new Aku Empire! Hahaha!”
Aku chuckled and turned toward the river, his eyes burning brighter as they fell upon the city
of Townsville.
“And so nearby to the kingdom of my ancient foe.” Aku’s grin vanished, becoming a
frown. His eyes narrowed into slits of flame, “How many centuries have I dwelled in
silence? And still you oppose me, Samurai. Hmhmhm…” The monster clenched his fists,
the air around him humming as sinister heat radiated from his body. Though he could still
feel the pain of the substance the Samurai had thrown at him, so too could he feel his power
quickly returning as he breathed in the Citiesville air.
It had been a hunch when he first returned, but as his battle against those girls, the Powerpuff
Girls, unfolded, the truth had become clear to him. Though the world had forgotten him, Aku
had returned more powerful than before. Had the Samurai not caught him off guard, he could
have turned him to dust in an instant.
The thought of racing back to Townsville to take his vengeance crossed his mind, but the
frigid pain in his arm returned in full, staying his hand. No, there was no need to hurry back.
It was his haste that had cost him his life twice before. He would not make the same
mistakes.
“First, a new throne for the eternal Aku,” he said to the empty air. The demon became a
great black bird once more and took to the sky, following the city’s stench of negative energy
to its source.
He landed upon an ornate structure, one of the few that was constructed of fresh materials
and kept free of graffiti and trash. It was elevated above the street below, a long staircase
leading up to its heavy double-doors. It stood three stories tall, each floor with large windows
and dark blinds. Peering inside, Aku could see well-dressed humans running to and fro in a
frenzy. At the highest floor, he spied a man behind a desk made of heavy, well-polished
wood. He sat in a plush leather chair, one hand glued to a pen as he poured over the
documents on the desk, the other reaching for a phone that seemed to cease ringing. On the
desk was a placard with the words “Mayor” on it.
“Ah! So this is the seat of government for this settlement? What dark energy this place
contains, so full of fear and hatred!” Aku flew up into the air, his eyes narrowed into
blazing slits of malice. He could not have chosen a better place. With an ear-piercing shriek,
Aku plunged into the building, his body passing through the marble like a specter, traveling
deep beneath the building. He landed like a puddle in the City Hall’s basement. Though a
single, uncovered spherical light, like the others he had seen before, hung overhead, it was
off, leaving the room in impenetrable darkness.
The demon drifted through the basement, peering into a room filled with filing cabinets,
another filled with excess office supplies, and yet another stacked to the ceiling with unused
tables and chairs. The great shadow paused, hearing footsteps overhead. The door to the
basement cracked open, spilling light into the room beneath, and voices echoed down the
stairs.
“I know, I know, it just makes me so uncomfortable, but what can I do?”
“You could talk to HR.”
“Oh, great idea, that’s just what I need: unemployment.”
“Well then, get over it. He’s like that with everyone, you get used to it.”
The door slammed shut and the hushed voices moved away.
Aku hurried to the staircase, pausing in front of the door. He grinned and breathed in, filling
himself with the fresh dark energy the humans had left behind. Gripping the doorknob in his
hand so tightly it began to bend and crush, Aku considered revealing himself and
slaughtering them all, his face twisting into a grimace of rage. It took all of his willpower to
release the doorknob and descend back into the basement.
Massacring them now would be satisfying, but he needed more strength if he was going to
smite the entire world. It would do no good to slaughter his cattle for short term satisfaction.
Resuming his exploration of the basement, Aku came upon one last door. In the very back of
the basement, on a worn-out door, was a crooked sign that read “Human Resources.” It was
clear that the door hadn’t been used in quite some time, given the cobwebs on the frame, and
the way the handle creaked as he twisted the knob. Pulling the door open, he was greeted
with nothing more than dust and a single, broken, chair.
Aku drifted into the room, lifting the chair and looking it over. With a simple flick of his
wrists, he crushed it into a tangled scrap of metal and plastic and tossed it over his shoulder.
The door began to close, but as it did, the darkness lit up in red, smoke and flames pouring
from the room. As the door clicked shut, the demon’s laughter could be heard within.
At the volcano-top lair of Mojo Jojo, the city’s premier supervillain sat alone in the dark,
staring at the shadows as he tried to process the day’s events. His greatest invention had been
defeated, true, but he had come closer than ever before at defeating them. Despite its eventual
defeat, the Robo Jojo CXI.21 had proven that he was on the verge of toppling his rivals.
His ideas for the CXII went out the window the minute that monster burst from the back of
his beloved machine. A being of shadow and fire, with the strength to not only rival, but
utterly demolish the Powerpuff Girls with scarcely any effort. It had called itself Aku. For
some reason, simply thinking that name caused his stomach to knot and his head to ache.
But why?
Because he recognized it, he told himself. How did he recognize it? That he didn’t know.
After hours of stillness, Mojo leaped from his seat and scurried over to his computer. The
pitch black observatory was lit up by the colorful images on the screen, depicting his most
recent bout with the girls. He stopped the video just as they began to giggle and chatter,
labeling it “Mojo Jojo’s Plan to Defeat the Powerpuff Girls RJCXI21.” As he moved the
recording to a folder, a smile was visible on Mojo’s face.
It became a grimace as the video continued and the monster burst onto the screen. Sitting
back on his hovering lab chair, Mojo watched closely as the trio struggled against the
monstrous Aku. As he watched the fight again, he began to realize something. The creature
hadn’t simply overpowered the Powerpuff Girls. No, seeing it again, it was clear that it was
learning and growing stronger.
Mojo froze the video as the Professor approached. His eyes drifted to Blossom, held in the
monster’s coils and screaming in pain. His jaw tensed and his brow furrowed. With a frown,
he turned his attention to the scientist, enhancing the feed to get a closer look at what it was
he used to chase off the beast.
“Antidote-X…” Mojo mused, stroking his chin and sitting back in his seat. Tapping a button
on the armrest of his seat, the simian scientist brought up a panel and began making notes,
more images appearing on his monitor, files labeled “Antidote-X” filling the screen, along
with a video of two of his past failures: one labeled “Mojo Jojo’s Plan to Defeat the
Powerpuff Girls: Sleepover” and another labeled “Mojo Jojo’s Plan to Defeat the Powerpuff
Girls: Morebucks.”
While he worked, Mojo was unaware of the shadow he cast in the light from his computer.
He remained focused until hearing something fall and glass break. Getting up, the monkey
shuffled over to the fallen item and picked it up. It was a photograph of himself and the
Powerpuff Girls, taken after one of their recent battles. Cracks spread across the glass
obscured his sour expression. His gaze drifted over to Blossom; The cracks on the glass
converged on her, forming an X.
He could hear her screams of pain echoing in his head once more.
It was much later that evening when a knock on the door caught the attention of the Utonium
sisters.
“I’ll get it!” Bubbles called, racing to the front door and tugging it open. She squealed and
flung herself at the visitor, “Ms. Keane! What are you doing here?”
In flashes of pink and green, Blossom and Buttercup rushed to the door. The moment they
laid eyes on their teacher, they squealed and threw themselves at her as well.
Ms. Keane closed her eyes, hugging the girls tight, swaying back and forth ever so slightly.
“Oh girls...I’m so glad to see you’re alright.” She held on just a bit longer, only relinquishing
her hold on the girls when she heard footsteps approaching.
James walked into the living room, pausing at the far end with a small smile on his lips. His
lab coat missing, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he held a bowl in one hand and a towel
in the other. He had stopped drying the bowl, instead letting drips of water trickle to the
carpet.
“Evening, Cass,” he greeted her warmly. His dark hair was a mess, carelessly brushed to the
side giving him a boyish charm, even with the gray starting to show.
It took Ms. Keane a moment to return his smile and his greeting.
“Thanks for having me, James. You, um. You may want to take care of that,” she gestured to
the damp spot on the floor at his feet. She and the girls giggled when the Professor finally
noticed and resumed drying the bowl.
“Oh shoot!” The Professor took a step back from the damp spot.
“I’ll get it, Professor,” Blossom hurried over to his side. Taking a breath, Blossom hovered
over the spill and began to blow out a gentle, steady stream of heated air. Adjusting her
position to ensure it dried evenly, she beamed up at her father when finished.
“All done!” she chirped. She leaned into the Professor’s touch when he patted her head.
“Thank you, honey,” he chuckled, “It’s good to know I can count on you to clean up my
messes.”
The girls giggled and ushered Ms. Keane inside.
“It is good to have such wonderful girls, isn’t it James?”
The Professor gave Blossom a gentle tug, pulling her into a hug and kissing her head.
“They’re perfect,” he murmured. Clearing his throat, the Professor gestured toward the dining
room with the bowl he’d been drying, “We were just sitting down for dinner, I set a place for
you, if you’d like to join us.”
Ms. Keane giggled, letting Bubbles lead her into the room by her hand, the little blonde
chattering at a mile a minute. She glanced back over her shoulder at the Professor.
“You know I’d love to.”
Settling into a throne of frozen flame, Aku allowed himself to relax for the first time since his
resurrection. Though it had taken a sizable effort, with the negative energy that had gathered
in Citiesville and concentrated in the city hall he had managed to once again open the gates to
the Pit of Hate. A seemingly infinite chasm of darkness and suffering, it had been sealed with
his destruction at the hands of the Samurai. In his absence, its flames had grown weak and its
depths silent. With Aku’s return, they once again burned bright, as the darkness from below
filled its master with unheavenly strength.
“It is good to be home once more,” Aku’s rumbling voice caused the fiery walls of the Pit
to tremble and the darkness to stir, as if echoing its master’s sentiment. Lifting his left hand,
Aku stared at the appendage, his mind racing back to the moment the strange, cold substance
had struck him. He winced and clenched his claws into a tight fist.
“What other tricks do you keep hidden in your sleeve, Samurai? There should have
been but one weapon in this world that could strike down the mighty Aku.” Aku turned
his gaze away from his fist and into the flames, frowning and narrowing his flaming eyes.
The demon waved his hand across the flames.
“Show me the Samurai,” he ordered.
The flames burned hotter and began to spread, revealing a portal of black. The darkness
swirled and shifted until it began to change. Complex shapes and colors spun outward from
the center. Though still at first, they quickly began to move until becoming like a window
into the world above. At first, it showed him the lobby of the building above, still filled with
humans in suits and skirts scurrying about. This scene lasted only a moment before fading. A
new scene took its place, one cozier and more modest. A family of five were seated around a
table, enjoying a meal that, though he tried to deny it, caused Aku’s mouth to water and his
stomach to growl.
Seated at the head of the table was the Samurai. At least, the man that Aku had mistaken for
the Samurai. Though they were eerily similar, this man was older and softer than the one
from Aku’s final moments. To his right was a woman. Aku didn’t recognize her, his frown
darkening as she lightly touched the man’s arm, laughing at whatever one of the children had
said. The children. They were the same strange, doll-like girl children that had confronted
him.
“The Powerpuff Girls,” Aku murmured. He steepled his fingers and furrowed his brow.
Though he had unleashed his otherworldly might against them, they seemed unfazed mere
hours later. Cuts and bruises were gone, as was the terror he’d seen in their eyes moments
before realizing that they could not defeat him.
His gaze was drawn, as if by magic, to the one at the furthest end of the table. Her long red
hair, it had been soaked and matted when he last saw it. Now it resembled a mane of warm
fire, framing her face without the bow she’d worn before to tame it. Her eyes, once alight
with fury, were now a soft shade of rose pink, their corners crinkling whenever she laughed
or smiled. With a gesture, the image began to play sound. For a moment, her voice was the
only sound he could hear.
“We were made from him,” she explained to the older woman, “he’s what Chemical X came
from.”
Aku’s tired eyes snapped open.
“Wait what?” He leaned forward, stretching across the Pit until he was inches from the
image. They were made from Aku?
“Oh my gosh...James, did you know?”
“I, um...I had a hunch from the beginning, but I never imagined it would be possible…”
Aku leaned back, his eyes still wide, his mouth changed from a frown to a firm thin line. As
the man offered further explanation, the image, and Aku’s gaze, remained on the red-haired
girl at the end. It had been her blood that had stirred his thoughts once more. It was from this
child that he, the eternal, unstoppable Aku, had been once again returned to life.
“So, Red Child…that is the secret to your power,” Aku mused, stroking his beard.
Strength to crush mountains, speed to race against light itself-
“I’m going to beat you,”
Her fists were shaking.
It wasn’t fear.
Aku sank further into his seat, a long, low hum rumbling in his throat. The super hero
children had been created from his essence? Then, it had been the man, this scientist, who
had unearthed Aku’s final resting place. How could any human have harnessed the power of
Aku? And further, how could any creature born from his infinite evil stand against him?
How could any heroes, no matter how super, have come from Aku?
“That’s the reason I asked you to stop by, Cass. Erm, Ms. Keane,” the man cleared his voice,
speaking in a more formal tone. The others seemed confused by this change.
“In order to defeat Aku, I believe that we’re going to need the other source of Chemical X,”
he continued.
Aku sat up, the flames in his eyes reduced to mere cinders.
“While the girls were sleeping, I managed to secure a ticket to Japan. I’ll be paying my great-
grandmother a visit.”
The red-haired child looked up, shocked.
“Professor? You mean…”
“Aku’s return is my fault. I couldn’t leave well enough alone and now the evil my family
fought so hard to destroy has returned. If we’re going to make this right, I believe that we’re
going to need Imagawa-kensei’s sacred sword.”
“NO!” Aku roared, smashing his claws against the vision. The flames retracted and the sights
and sounds from across the river disappeared. Though the only sound was his own breathing,
Aku could hear the man’s voice echoing in his head.
“Th-the sword? No, no! I cannot allow it! I shall not allow it!” Aku turned his furious
gaze upward. As he began to rise up, he froze, feeling a penetrating, freezing pain in his arm.
The demon glanced down at his hand, his breath shaking. “Never again, N-never again
shall I return to the silence of death. No-”
“No...MORE!”
Aku’s fist slammed shut, his entire arm trembling. The flames in his eyes, once raging as his
temper rose, had gone out entirely. The demon fell backward, landing in his throne with a
colossal thud. He breathed in short, rasping gasps. His thoughts had gone silent and though
he stared at the flames, he couldn’t see them. He pulled his injured hand in tight, claws
clutching at his breast.
Though he made no command, his eyes came into focus when the flames peeled apart. This
time, they showed him the Powerpuff Girls’ room. His eyes settled on the Red Child in the
center. Soon, his breathing matched the rise and fall of her chest.
Soon, she was all he could see.
“Are you sure about this, James?” Ms. Keane asked, her voice a low whisper. They had put
the girls to bed an hour ago, but she couldn’t bring herself to go home just yet. Not after what
she’d learned at dinner. So, instead, she and the Professor were sitting on the couch, the
living room pitch black save for the silver light of the moon pouring in through the window
and the warm orange glow of the match he was using to light his pipe. There was a half-
finished glass of wine in her hand, and a half-finished glass of scotch on the coffee table in
front of him.
She waited until he sat back, then rested her head against his shoulder, taking another sip of
her drink.
“Honestly, no, I’m not sure about anything, Cass,” the Professor admitted, resting his head
against hers. Neither said anything else as he drew a puff from his pipe and she sat her empty
glass on the table beside his.
“I really screwed up,” he said, finally breaking the silence, “I should have known I was
tampering with something out of my control. I think, on some level, I knew exactly what it
was I found in Japan. I just...didn’t care.”
“I think you cared too much,” Ms. Keane replied, “Growing up hearing stories about how
your family saved the world, being saved by the girls when they went back in time, seeing
the state the world was in as we got older. You’ve never not cared about anything, James
Utonium.”
Though his heart felt heavy, the Professor couldn’t help a smile. He drew another puff from
his pipe and leaned forward, lifting his glass. Wordlessly, he drained the last of it and set it
back down.
“Do you remember when I called you at three in the morning all those years ago?”
Ms. Keane smiled and snuggled a bit closer to him. Her gaze fell on her hand, resting just
inches from his leg. She quickly moved it to her lap.
“Of course I do. We hadn’t spoken in years, but, the moment I heard your voice, it was like
all that time catching up to me. I didn’t even realize how much I’d missed you.” she said with
a wistful sigh.
“It was Chemical X.”
Ms. Keane swallowed the lump forming in her throat and bit her lip. When he moved his
arm, she slid closer, closing her eyes as his arm slipped around her shoulders. She released
the breath she’d been holding when he pressed his cheek against her head.
“Take care of them while I’m gone.” His voice, little more than a ghost of a whisper, cracked
when he spoke.
“I will,” she whispered, her voice just as soft, “Promise me you’ll come back.”
The Professor drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes. Images of Downtown in ruin, and
the girls broken and beaten, flashed behind his eyelids.
“I will,” he assured her, squeezing her shoulder. Feeling movement, he looked down, finding
himself staring into her eyes. It’d been too long since he last noticed how blue they were.
To Know Thy Enemy
Chapter Summary
The girls try to keep themselves occupied from the looming threat that the demon poses.
Aku, fearing what may happen if he were to face the Powerpuff Girls again, searches for
a way to test the limits of their power and discovers something greater than he had
hoped.
Saturday had proven a welcome reprieve for the city’s heroines. Emotions still high from
seeing their father off at the airport that morning, the girls had gone to great lengths to find
ways to take their minds off the looming threat of Aku and concern for their father’s
wellbeing. Those lengths had led two of them into the Professor’s basement laboratory and to
a room known as the Danger Grid. Constructed entirely from duranium, it was the largest
single construct ever made from the rare metal. Outfitted with a holographic projection
system that surpassed even the wildest imaginings of science fiction, the Danger Grid had
served as a training ground for the world’s mightiest heroines.
It also served as a safe place for them to cut loose and take their frustrations out on one
another. Though there was no real animosity between them, Blossom and Buttercup had
found themselves staring one another down on numerous occasions throughout the years.
That day, their sparring match was truly a spectacle to behold.
Sitting at the control console for the Danger Grid, Ms. Keane watched the pair dance back
and forth, the force of their blows causing the room to tremble. She kept her hand close to the
emergency shutdown switch, in case things went too far, but as the fight continued, that
thought was slipping further and further from her mind.
“How long do you think it’ll take him to find it?” Buttercup asked, appearing at Blossom’s
side in a sharp flash of green light, fist halfway to her sister’s face. She grunted in frustration
as she realized the redhead was already looking straight at her. Her blow deflected, Buttercup
disappeared in another spray of sparks and green light.
“I’m not sure,” Blossom replied, sliding one foot back and twisting nearly all the way around,
her eyes wide, her irises lightly glowing. Catching the slightest hint of a green streak, she
leaned backward, Buttercup’s kick passing by her face, “He was able to convince his great-
grandma to lend him powder from the sword,” The redhead’s mitts were already moving
before Buttercup disappeared, catching a blow to her side, “I’m sure if he explains that Aku
has returned, she’ll understand and let us use the sword.”
Buttercup appeared at the far end of the room, sliding across the ground. Her hair stood up
straight and streaks of green electricity filled the air around her. With a shout, she vanished.
“Yeah, but hasn’t it been a long time since he talked to her?” Buttercup pointed out, gritting
her teeth as she unleashed a flurry of blows from all angles, each one flying before the
previous one had landed, “You think she might be upset?”
“Maybe…but if she’s the one tasked with keeping the sword safe, I’m certain she
understands the sort of destruction that Aku will cause if he’s allowed to grow his strength.”
Blossom tilted her head to avoid a kick and took a step forward, her hands snaking out and
snatching Buttercup’s wrists, “We have to stop him. It’s my,” Blossom’s words caught in her
throat, allowing Buttercup to break her grip. Her sister vanished and a blow nearly landed on
her cheek. She batted Buttercup’s hand aside, the force from her parry creating a shockwave,
“It’s our fault he was able to come back.”
“We’ll get him, Red,” Buttercup assured her, appearing behind her sister. This time, when
Blossom turned to block her attack, the green-eyed heroine narrowed her eyes and stopped
her punch mid-swing, vanishing in another spray of sparks.
“Ah!” Blossom cried, her hands flying to her face as the sparks hit her eyes. Her teeth
clamped down and a growl worked its way up from her chest and into her throat. She turned
toward her sister, eyes watering, her vision red. With a furious scream, she caught
Buttercup’s fist and retaliated with a massive blow right to her face, sending her crashing into
the far wall with thunderous force.
“Oh no!” Blossom gasped, hands flying to her mouth when she saw Buttercup slide to the
ground. Rushing to her sister’s side, she reached for Buttercup’s cheek, flinching away when
her sister groaned and grabbed her face, “Buttercup, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, I’m sorry,”
Blossom’s voice cracked as the words came tumbling out.
“It’s cool, relax,” Buttercup giggled, “it’s my fault. I didn’t expect you to hit back, that’s my
bad.” She touched her cheek and winced, “Geez, that was a freaking good hit. I didn’t think
you had it in you, Red.”
“I didn’t mean to hit you! I’m sorry!” Blossom insisted, looking up when she heard the door
to the Danger Grid slide open.
“Is everything alright, girls?” Ms. Keane asked, dropping to her knees on Buttercup’s other
side, “Let me take a look.”
“I didn’t mean to! It...it was an accident! I didn’t want to hit you, I just-” Blossom bit her lip
and rubbed her eyes, She didn’t know why she was crying.
“Bloss, it’s fine!” Buttercup reached out to her sister, lightly punching her shoulder, “We
were fighting! Getting hit in the face is part of it,” she giggled again, though it quickly
became a hiss, her mitt flying to her cheek, “Right, Ms. Keane?”
The teacher sighed and nodded.
“I suppose that is correct,” Ms. Keane reached out to Blossom, resting her hand on her back,
“Maybe you girls should take a break? You’ve been at it for over an hour.”
“Ha! I can do this all day!” Buttercup said with a laugh. As she climbed to her feet, the
confident grin she wore wavered when the room spun around her, “Oof…uh, but, um, if you
wanna take a break, that’d be cool.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Blossom insisted, her eyes glued to the floor, another tear
trickling down her cheek. Her chest felt tight, but her body felt restless. Looking down at her
mitt, she shivered, recalling the rush that surged through her as she threw the punch.
Swallowing that feeling, she looked up, surprised to find herself face-to-face with her sister.
“It’s cool, Blossom, seriously.” Buttercup snatched her hand, tugging the redhead to her feet.
Blossom sniffled and wiped her eyes. When Buttercup smiled at her again, she finally
managed to return it.
“Cool,” she replied with a giggle.
Ms. Keane watched the exchange with a beaming smile on her face. It hadn’t been that long
ago that the two sisters were on each other’s last nerve every other day. Though they still
butted heads and bickered, it was nothing like it had been back then.
“Let’s get some lunch, girls,” she insisted, rising to her feet and leading the two to the door.
She fell into step behind them, nodding along while the pair chattered excitedly about their
sparring match, adding her two cents whenever they turned to her expectantly.
The streets of Citiesville were as filthy and polluted as the air above. His footsteps were
muffled by litter that seemed ever present. His ears were assaulted by a constant stream of
negativity: people arguing about who should get to sit at the bus stop, a parent threatening
their child if they asked for something else, the sirens of the peacekeepers, and the angry
barking of the metal carriages were relentless. As he lifted his eyes, he could practically see
the tension in the air.
He’d been walking for some time now and since leaving the Pit of Hate, he had yet to find a
break from the darkness. His chest swelled as he breathed in the toxic air. His muscles tensed
and grew as he drank in the hate.
“Out of the way,” a young man barked, shouldering his way past him without a second
glance.
The monster turned to watch him go, his fingernails sharpening into claws. Mulling it over,
he shook his head and let it go. Instead, he turned his gaze to the nearby shop window, at his
reflection.
He’d taken a form that resembled them: tall, yet humanly so, his skin no longer black but a
rich shade of green. The sleeves of his black, collared shirt were rolled up to his elbows, and
his black slacks were slim-fitted, held to his waist by a brown leather belt. He ran his long
fingers through his shaggy red hair, pausing to test the sharp tips of the two shiny black horns
rising from his head, and stroked his chin, admiring his fiery goatee. Lastly, he looked into
his eyes. Though they bore no flames, their crimson irises still burned with inhuman intensity.
“Hey!”
An angry voice drew his attention, his eyebrow raising at the older woman wielding a
double-barreled firearm that he didn’t recognize. His eyes narrowed when she shamelessly
shoved the barrel against his chest.
“No monsters! Get out of here you freak!” she barked.
Aku turned back to the glass, peering inside. His stomach growled as he took in the greasy
meals the humans within were consuming. Though his mouth watered, he couldn’t help but
compare it to the meal the Scientist’s family had been eating the night before. With a frown,
he found the violent woman’s food wanting.
“I said get lost! I don’t need some fucking monster scaring away business!”
Aku turned back to the woman, his frown becoming a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
He leaned forward, unflinching when the woman tried to shove him away with the firearm’s
barrel.
“If I refuse, what will you do?” he asked. His voice was deep and smooth, every word a
growl, yet lacking his usual godlike timbre.
“I’ll blow your fucking brains out!”
Aku stalked toward her, until her back was pressed up against the frame of the restaurant
door. His long fingers wrapped around the barrel of the weapon.
“You are welcome to try,” he growled, ripping the weapon from her hands with a swipe of his
arm. With a simple squeeze of his hand, he crushed the barrel and dropped the useless
weapon to the ground, “But, be certain, you shall regret what follows.” As he spoke, he
gripped her face in his other hand and lifted her from the ground until her stubby legs were
dangling in the air.
“I’m...c-calling the...p-police!” she hissed.
Aku plucked the cigarette from her lips and popped it in his mouth. Drawing in a long drag,
he breathed the smoke in her face and let her fall to the ground. Her threats fell on deaf ears
as he resumed his stroll, hands slipping into his pockets.
The wretched sound of the city dulled to a low roar; his mind drifted back to what he had
seen before. The Red Child and her sister were testing their powers against one another. His
theory proved true, as even with the power he had gained overnight in Citiesville, he found
himself straining to follow their fight. The Scientist’s chemical had dealt him a greater blow
than he had at first believed. And those super heroes, those Powerpuff Girls, it was clear that
they kept the true depths of their power hidden.
Though he was the eternal and invincible Aku, he could not be certain that a direct
confrontation wouldn’t end in disaster. Though they were born from his essence, so too did
they possess the power of the accursed blade that had slain him. Should they learn to harness
that power, with their abilities that eclipsed those of any demigod or hero before them, they
would surely strike him down and return him to the silence of death.
Aku paused, gazing across the Citiesville Bridge toward Townsville. The Red Child’s scream
of fury and the hateful blow she landed against her sister filled his thoughts.
Aku leaned in closer, his eyelids heavy and his chest full of an unusual, yet not entirely
unpleasant sensation. The scent of her blood drew him closer. His lips parted, moving with a
mind of their own, and pressed against her cheek.
He had tasted blood before, but instead of the zest of metal, something else teased his tongue.
Aku felt himself filled with warmth as he drank in her essence. Something in his chest began
to beat. When he spoke, his voice seemed so far away that, for a moment, he didn’t recognize
it as his own.
“You cannot hope to defeat Aku, child.”
All he knew was her. All he felt was the way their bodies pulsed in time.
Aku’s hand crept to his chest, clutching his shirt. He felt something in her, something so
utterly alien he couldn’t begin to put words to what it may be. It had been her blood that
resurrected him. It seemed to be her blood that caused this change in him.
Could it be possible, then, that he might change her as well? He couldn’t risk confronting
them directly, but perhaps there was another way to further expose her to his essence.
Aku narrowed his eyes, his gaze drifting to the woods on the edge of Townsville. He could
feel something within the forest. A great source of negativity and hatred. His body changed
into shadow, his arms becoming great wings. With a shriek, he took off into the air and
soared across the river in seconds, disappearing into the trees.
The Great Townsville Forest was a remarkable place: an expansive stretch of woodland
untouched by the nearby metropolis. Through both extensive preservation laws passed by the
city, and a number of natural defenses, the forest had been allowed to flourish over the years.
Of those protections, none could quite compare to the strange race of furry, pink beastmen
known as the Lumpkins clan. The most notorious among their number stood as the first line
of defense against the encroaching urbanization from his wooden cabin just a mile outside the
Townsville city limits.
A gentle, twanging melody rang out through the warm country air. The favorite son of the
Lumpkin clan and one-time enemy of the Powerpuff Girls, Fuzzy Lumpkins, rocked back and
forth, fingers plucking a sweet, sorrowful melody from his favorite banjo. It had been over a
year since Fuzzy set foot in Townsville, and just as long since anyone from the city had set
foot on his property. While there was a feral part of him that missed the conflict, he would be
the first to admit that retirement was a good fit for him.
Fuzzy opened his eyes as he hit a sour note. With a heavy sigh, he patted his banjo.
“I’m sorry, Jo, I don’t mean to make you sound so ugly. I just got a lotta thinkin’ to do.”
Fuzzy drew in a breath and looked in the direction of Townsville. His shoulders sank as he
released the breath, “Yessiree, a lot of thinkin to do.”
The Lumpkin didn’t normally concern himself with the comings and goings of Townsville.
The monsters and mechanical giants let his forest be, so as his own trips into town came to an
end, so too did his reasons for caring about the city. That had changed a day ago, with the
appearance of the great shadow monster. Even from his property, he could see the battle
between the demon and the Powerpuff Girls. He had watched as the beast escaped and fled
across the river.
A monster that had survived a fight with the Powerpuff Girls. Fuzzy could scarcely believe it.
He’d seen the biggest, most ornery nasties stomp their way into town, just to leave in pieces.
In the last several months, no one save for that crazy science monkey, Mojo Jojo, ever
seemed to give them a challenge.
“I gots a bad feeling, Jo,” he murmured, plucking a few more notes. “Mmm…” his notes
were still sour, he realized with a frown. Fuzzy pulled his straw hat down over his eyes and
began tuning his banjo.
He was so absorbed in what he was doing, he didn’t notice the shadow appear. It wasn’t until
the creature’s massive hand gripped his face and lifted him from his rocking chair that Fuzzy
began to scream. Staring into the shadow’s eyes, he felt feelings stir inside him that had long
since been put to rest. Darkness swirled behind his eyes and the last thing Fuzzy heard was
the demon’s voice.
“Go, show Aku the might of the Powerpuff Girls.”
That voice echoed in his head; his vision was consumed by red.
“So, your dad is going to get the magic sword?”
“Mmhmm, he’s gotta ask our great-grandma for permission first, though.”
The two little girls were lying side-by-side, staring up at the blue sky and watching the fluffy
white clouds go by. Bubbles smiled and lifted her mitt, pointing at one.
“That one looks like a bunny!”
Beside her, the girls’ best friend, Robin Snyder, beamed and pointed to a different cloud.
“That one looks like a butterfly!”
While her sisters took their frustrations out on each other, Bubbles had retreated next door to
visit Robin. The girls had tried everything to take the blonde’s mind off the previous day’s
events: swinging as high as they could, hosting a tea party with their assortment of dolls, and
bouncing on the trampoline. When everything else failed, they ended up just lying down to
enjoy each other’s company.
“Are Blossom and Buttercup okay?” Robin asked, turning to face Bubbles, rising up on her
elbow. She laid back down, resting her cheek on her arm when the Powerpuff girl turned to
face her.
Bubbles nodded, curling her legs in and mirroring Robin’s pose. Her other hand slid from her
side to rest in the space between them.
“Yeah. Buttercup wants to fight Aku again. Blossom wants to be careful, but, “Bubbles
giggled, “That’s how she is. She says she worries so we don’t have to.”
Robin’s hand slid from her side, wrapping her fingers around the blonde’s mitt.
“You’ll beat him. You can beat anyone.”
Bubbles squeezed Robin’s hand. She scooted closer, until there was barely any space between
them. A light blush colored her cheeks.
“Thanks Bobby,” she whispered.
The couple turned, hearing the tell-tale swoosh of one of Bubbles’ sisters flying overhead.
“Bubbles! We’ve gotta go, Townsville’s in trouble!” Blossom called, turning and waving at
Robin, “Hey Robin! Sorry, I’ve gotta steal her for a little bit!”
“It’s okay!” Robin called back, sitting up and beaming at Bubbles, “Good luck!”
Bubbles nodded, her grip on Robin’s hand lingering for a moment. She gave it one last
squeeze, then finally let go, taking off in a streak of blue after her sisters.
The Townsville Rainbow, a tri-colored streak of green, pink, and blue, rocketed across the
sky, heading for the edge of town. Birds poured out of the forest canopy as trees were ripped
up by their roots and hurled toward the metropolis. A blast of heat collided with the tree
trunk, reducing it to harmless ash.
“What do you think it is?” Bubbles asked, coming to a half at the forest entrance. The
animals were fleeing from whatever was causing the commotion. Their cries were jumbled
and unclear, but she could make out two words clearly: Shadow and Monster.
“Not sure,” Blossom replied, landing in front of her sister and scanning the trees for signs of
their target, “Whatever it is, we have to do everything we can to keep it away from town.
Things are still in bad shape after yesterday.”
“You getting anything, Bubs?” Buttercup asked, hovering over the blonde as she questioned a
fleeing fox.
“They don’t know what it is,” Bubbles explained, thanking the fox and sending it on its way,
“A monster just appeared and started tearing stuff up. I think it, um, I think it might be him.”
“Aku…” Blossom murmured, fists tightening at her sides.

A strangled roar, a curious mix of pain and fury, rang out. The ground shook as thunderous
steps advanced on them. A great black claw tore through a tree and dug into the dirt, dragging
the rest of the beast forward. Its eyes were bright, searing red, casting a glow across its sickly
green face, great black antlers rising from its head. The creature’s once pink fur was a vibrant
red, radiating a thin layer of dark light. With another roar, it revealed a mouthful of crooked
fangs.
“Oh no…Fuzzy, is that you?” Bubbles asked, bringing her hands to her mouth.
The beast turned toward her and snarled. Its muscles expanded even further, its massive
frame quickly doubling in size. Towering over them, the monster that was once Fuzzy
Lumpkins roared, the sheer power of his voice blowing the Powerpuff Girls back.
“Aku did this to him.” Blossom narrowed her eyes and shifted into a defensive stance.
Fuzzy snarled and shook his head back and forth, flinging spittle every which way. He
brought his hand to his face. The glow in his eyes grew darker. With another roar, lashed out
at them with his left arm. Large as the Lumpkin had become, his left arm had been
transformed even further. Furless and black as night, it was twice the size of its counterpart,
with curved, cruel claws on its hand. Dark tendrils stretched from his shoulder, wrapping
around him, like a series of wire hooks that dug into the Lumpkin’s flesh as if to keep his arm
attached to his body.
The girls quickly took to the air to avoid Fuzzy’s swipe, marveling as his claw tore through
everything in his path effortlessly.
“Talk about plum crazy…poor guy,” Buttercup glanced at Blossom, then back at their target,
“Should we start with GAGA?”
Blossom nodded, holding her arm out to prevent Buttercup from charging in.
“We’re doing GAGA, but play it safe. Fuzzy was already dangerous when he got worked up.
With Aku’s power, we don’t know what to expect.” Blossom turned to Bubbles, “We also
have to keep him away from town. If he were to make it to the city, it’d be a disaster.”
Bubbles and Buttercup nodded. The moment Blossom lowered her arm, she and Bubbles shot
to either side, while Buttercup charged the monster head on.
“C’mon ugly, it’s you and me! Let’s dance, Fuzzball!” Buttercup shot forward like a rocket.
Winding back, she lunged forward with a devastating punch.
Fuzzy howled and hurled himself backward, bringing his massive claw into the air, then
crashing down at the approaching Powerpuff girl. His open palm hit the ground, shaking the
forest and kicking up a cloud of dirt and grass. His eyes bulged when a blow landed on his
cheek. With a roar, he spun toward her, his swipe smashing through several trees, but once
again missing the green Powerpuff girl.
Buttercup appeared behind Fuzzy, her fists vibrating as she unleashed a barrage of blows on
the beast’s back. She shot into the air, dodging another swipe.
“It’s like hitting him,” she muttered, tensing until the air around her lit up with a green flash
and a burst of sparks.
Fuzzy roared and swung his arm wildly back and forth. Kicking up more debris, he snatched
a tree and took a swing with such power that the wood and leaves burst into flames. With a
howl he smashed the burning tree into the ground until it was reduced to splinters. A blow
collided with his nose, sending him stumbling back a step.
“Bubbles! Switch!” Buttercup called, appearing in front of Fuzzy. She launched herself into
the air, to where her sister was waiting, legs pulled in and curled into a ball. With a shout, the
green-eyed girl threw her full weight into flinging her blonde sister at the beast.
Fuzzy’s eyes snapped open. His massive claw slammed into the ground, stopping his fall. No
sooner had his eyes focused when another force collided with his chest, driving him to the
ground. The little blue ball bounced off and straight up into the air.
“Sorry, Fuzzy! This is for your own good!” Bubbles shouted, uncurling and spraying the
beast with a flurry of heat ray blasts. She swooped out of the way of the colossal stone
thrown her way, blasting it out of the sky. The sky turned black when Fuzzy’s massive paw
appeared above her. Bubbles flung herself at the ground, body melting into a streak of blue
light barreling to the Earth. With just inches to spare, she spun around, landing on her feet
and rocketing toward Fuzzy once more.
The beast spread both arms wide, bringing both hands in to snatch the little girl before she
could reach him. To his surprise, she came to a sudden stop, her own hands slamming
together and unleashing a shockwave of sound that collided with his chest like an explosion.
The monster howled, sent flying into the trees.
“I don’t think we’re hurting him,” she observed. As if to prove her point, the monster rose up
in a fury and came tearing toward her. Bubbles looked up, smiled and nodded, then threw
herself forward, curling into a ball again.
“Blossom! Switch!” She cried, smashing into the monster’s nose. She bounced straight up, to
where the redhead was waiting.
Blossom spiked Bubbles back at Fuzzy with both fists, the attack driving the creature into a
crater in the ground. She shot downward, zooming past the retreating blue streak, and
slammed her fist into Fuzzy’s chest, further burying him in the dirt. She leaped backward,
drawing in a deep breath and unleashing a torrent of fire at the Lumpkin.
The monster’s great black claw reached through the flames, grasping at her. The redhead
ceased her fiery assault, thrusting her mitt out and firing a burst of lightning at the claw.
Though her attack landed right on his palm, it did nothing to slow the swipe. Blossom’s eyes
widened. Moving with all of her strength, she shot away from the strike.
Fuzzy howled, immediately flinging himself forward when his claw dug into the dirt. With
another roar, he took another swipe at the retreating Powerpuff girl.
Blossom rolled onto her back, her eyes wide and irises glowing. Zipping back and forth to
avoid his enraged swipes, she led him deeper into the forest and away from the city. His
moves were becoming more erratic and, even with his awkward movements, becoming
increasingly difficult to predict. Despite the repeated blows the trio had landed, he showed no
signs of slowing. If anything, he was growing quicker as their chase continued.
Her eyes locked on his nose, where they’d struck him numerous times. Though he didn’t
show it, she could see the beginnings of a bruise forming. She spun to avoid a horizontal
swipe and turned her attention to Fuzzy’s chest, where she’d struck him. It was hard to see
through his red fur, especially with the dark glow of Aku’s power, but she could definitely
see a similar sign of bruising. Blossom came to a complete halt, ducking under Fuzzy’s
attack. He continued toward her, carried by his forward momentum.
Drawing in a deep breath, Blossom released a gale of arctic wind, encasing the giant
Lumpkin in a block of ice. She watched the ice cube crash into the dirt. Cracks were quickly
spreading across its surface, but the frozen prison would hold for a bit longer. Nodding, she
shot into the forest, away from the beast.
“Break and Regroup!”
In an instant, Bubbles and Buttercup were at her sides. The trio came to a halt, standing in the
path of destruction Fuzzy had carved while making his way toward Townsville.
“I couldn’t find anything,” Buttercup reported, “Everything I threw at the big guy bounced
off like I was hitting Aku.”
Bubbles nodded, head swiveling to take in the full scope of the destruction Fuzzy had caused.
She frowned, spying a toppled bird’s nest.
“Fuzzy would never do something like this,” she said, lifting the nest and looking it over. It
was smashed to pieces, but, thankfully, she couldn’t see any sign of broken shells or feathers,
“He sounds like he’s hurting.”
Blossom nodded, hand to her chin and eyes focused on the frozen beast. The cracks were
quickly spreading. They only had moments before he was free.
“It may not seem like it, but I think we’re getting somewhere. He doesn’t seem to be
impervious to damage, just immune to pain. I think if we managed to hit him hard enough,
we could knock him out. Once he’s out, we can figure out free him from Aku’s control.”
Blossom snapped her mitt and grinned, “I’ve got it, we’ll use the-”
Whatever the redhead had planned was lost when an ear-splitting scream collided with the
girls. Hands flying to cover her ears, Blossom dug her feet into the ground and fought to keep
standing as the explosive shout barreled into her. Forcing her eyes open, she glanced to her
side, spotting Buttercup in a similar position. Looking the other way, she found Bubbles,
huddled over the bird’s nest, clutching her ears. Finally, she looked straight ahead, glaring at
the beast approaching them.
Fuzzy’s mouth was opened far wider than should have been possible, his eyes glowing with
so much intensity that he seemed to have streams of crimson light pouring from them. He
pulled himself forward with his massive demonic arm, digging his fingers into the dirt before
thrusting himself forward. With every thrust, the sound grew louder and the hurricane force
threatened to send the girls flying.
She moved to give a command, but Fuzzy seemed to notice, his roar becoming even louder.
Drool slapped against her face, while fallen tree trunks and toppled stones were flung toward
Townsville. Blossom ground her teeth tight and tried to come up with some kind of
counterattack, but as the beast’s roar continued to grow, she struggled to hear herself think.
The beast’s voice cracked and his roar changed to a feral shriek as he flung himself at the
nearest Powerpuff girl.
“Bubbles!” Blossom shouted, shooting toward her sister as fast as she could. Her mitts
collided with Bubbles’ back, shoving her just under the beast’s claws. Her look of satisfaction
quickly turned to a grimace and then a cry of pain as Fuzzy’s claws tore into her back and
smashed her into the dirt.
“Blossom!”
The redhead gasped, her breath escaping in a high-pitched, strangled cry. Searing pain was
quickly spreading across her back, filling her like magma injected straight into her veins. Her
voice caught in her throat and her eyes snapped open. It was the same as before.
All around her, she could almost make out the dull roar of the beast, as well as the faint
pummeling of her sisters’ attacks, but they were growing fainter with every gasping breath
she forced into her lungs. Her mind had gone blank and thought her eyes were wide, she
couldn’t see anything. All she could feel, all she knew, was the heat spreading through her
body.
When the fire reached her chest, her vision came into focus. Grinding her teeth, she slammed
her fist into the ground, feeling the earth rumble beneath her. As her hearing returned, she
could hear the growl in her throat growing louder. She smashed her other fist into the ground
and forced herself up. Her eyes were burning and she could see everything now cast in a red
haze. With a scream, she climbed to her feet and threw herself at the monster.
Fuzzy roared as he prepared another swipe at the fallen blue Powerpuff girl. Even with his
enhanced senses, he couldn’t see the streak of pink approaching. It wasn’t until her fist
collided with the side of his face and hurled him into the sky that he realized something was
wrong.
Blossom, still growling, landed with enough force to crack and split the earth beneath her
feet. Without looking back at her sisters, she focused her glare on the black speck overhead.
“Starburst Formation,” she hissed through clenched teeth.
“Red, are you okay? He got you pretty-” Buttercup’s voice caught in her throat when her
leader glanced over her shoulder at her. It was probably the lighting, but her eyes looked
more red than their usual pink.
“On my mark,” Blossom’s tone—every word was a low growl—left no room for argument.
She turned back toward their enemy, her sisters appearing at her sides. Just as she had hoped,
the moment the monster landed, he came barreling toward them again. Blossom clenched her
fists at her sides. She was shaking, energy coursing through her body like an explosion of
power searching for a way out. When Fuzzy was close enough, she thrust her trembling
hands out.
Her lips curled upward, her snarl becoming a grin.
“NOW!”
Reddish pink energy erupted from Blossom’s mitts. Her beam traveled only a few feet before
matching beams of green and blue collided with it. The moment the beams crossed, they
exploded outward in a swirl of pastel light that completely consumed the massive furry
menace.
The beast’s scream of rage quickly became a shriek of pain, one lost in the roar of the light
washing over him. His black arm, stretched out to try to stop the blast, began to burn. Like a
flame to dried paper, the demonic flesh burnt away in seconds. By the time he hit the ground,
Fuzzy’s fur was pink with charred patches of black. His eyes stared unseeing into the sky, his
mouth open, tongue hanging from his lips.
The Powerpuff Girls let their arms fall, breathing a collective sigh of relief. Blossom
slouched forward, leaning on her knees. The strength she’d felt before was gone, leaving her
breathless and cringing in pain.
“Oh my gosh! Blossom, you’re bleeding!” Bubbles cried, lightly touching the claw marks on
across her sister’s back. She pulled her hand back with a “Sorry!” when Blossom lurched
forward and whimpered.
“C’mon, let’s get you back home,” Buttercup insisted, slipping an arm around Blossom’s
shoulders, “Can you fly?”
The redhead clamped her eyes shut and took several short breaths. She’d taken worse hits
from stronger enemies. Why did it hurt so much?
Blossom nodded, hissing as she stood upright.
“L-let’s go.” Without waiting for a response, she took to the sky and headed for home,
Bubbles and Buttercup quickly catching up to her.
“Ha ha! Yes!” Aku laughed as he watched the beast he’d set upon the Powerpuff Girls fall at
last. His fingers continued to idly stroke his beard, unaware that he’d been doing it since the
fight began. Though his monster had failed, Aku could not stop grinning like a fool.
He was right to be cautious. Though he managed to crush them in a weakened state, when
fighting in their prime, these super heroines were truly a force unlike any other. The
maneuver that had seemed like pointlessly isolating themselves against Aku had, in
particular, proven far more effective this time around. Looking at it from the outside, he
could see its purpose: by separating, one of the girls could unleash their strength against a
superior foe while the others waited in reserve, looking for an opening. And, once the Red
Child had formulated a strategy, they could use their full power and overwhelm their foe.
“Hmhmhm, such a clever girl,” Aku mused as the vision changed to focus on the redhead,
“You felt it, did you not?”
The beast had failed, but had served its purpose. Though it only managed to land a single
strike against the Red Child, that one blow had been enough to prove him right. Continued
exposure to his essence was having an effect on the child.
She was changing.
The others failed to notice, but Aku had seen it clear as day. The beast’s blow hadn’t
weakened her. No, as the darkness filled her veins, her power surged. Lesser creatures
exposed to Aku’s essence found themselves driven mad, their mortal souls refusing to bond
with his wickedness, as seen in the fuzzy beast. But not her. No, the Red Child had taken to
his power as if it was her own. Even more telling was the brief grin on her face. She didn’t
just take to his power, she seemed to enjoy it.
“For one so good, hate comes so easily to you, Red Child.”
The Professor stirred from his nap as the plane hit a patch of turbulence. Smothering a yawn,
he did his best to stretch, but his cramped seat offered little in the way of mobility. His eyes
drifted down, landing on the notebook on his lap. Picking it up, the Professor flipped to the
next page, his hand resting on an old photograph. Despite the nostalgia he felt looking at it,
he couldn’t stop his mouth curling into a frown.
It was taken when he was still in college. The young James Utonium, his hair a mess and his
lab coat frayed and singed, was posing with another young man. While the Professor’s smile
was honest and excited, the tan-skinned man beside him, his face framed in long, greasy
blond hair, looked more annoyed than anything at Utonium’s arm wrapped around his
shoulders.
Dick Hardly, the Professor’s college roommate and one-time best friend. Desperate for
friendship to make up for those he left behind in pursuing his dreams, the Professor had
ignored the ways the man had taken advantage of him. Despite cutting ties after school, he
had wormed his way back into Utonium’s life. Though it had been years since the Powerpuff
Xtreme affair, the Professor had never been able to forgive himself for the suffering his
negligence had caused countless little girls. Born without love, as products to be sold, their
lives had been short and tragic.
If he’d never created the synthetic chemical, then those little girls wouldn’t have been born.
They were yet another in the growing list of victims of the Professor’s obsession. But, really,
were they so different? Dick was more honest about his intentions, but their goals were
similar: to change the world with Chemical X. They had both used something they didn’t
fully understand to bring little girls into a world of violence.
The Professor closed his eyes and turned the pages until he found another photograph. This
one brought a truly happy smile to his face: the girls, Ms. Keane, and himself, posing in front
of Pokey Oaks Kindergarten, “celebrating” the start of the girls’ most recent school year.
Sighing, he turned to look out the window. It was still some time before he’d be in Japan. As
his mind wandered, he realized that he’d never actually met his great-grandmother. When he
reached out to his grandfather to acquire the metal powder, the old man had done all of the
negotiating. Still smiling a wistful smile, the Professor wondered what to expect from this
part of his family that he had never known. His eyes drifted closed and his lips began to
move wordlessly. He needed to polish the rust from his Japanese before landing in Tokyo.
The rain was pouring down on Townsville, harder than before, though now the waters were
freezing cold. The streets were empty and eerily soundless, only the sound of her footsteps,
splashing in the puddles forming, broke the silence. Blossom wasn’t sure what compelled her
to keep going, but turning to look back toward home, she found the very thought of returning
now made her feel sick to her stomach. Gritting her teeth and pushing her dripping hair out
of her face, she continued forward.
Her path led her to the ruins of Downtown, a wasteland of rubble and dirt. The water from
the rain was pooling around the broken frame of the CXI.21. Her eyes drifted upward, her
mouth falling open at the site of the great black tree growing from the hole in the robot’s
back. She licked her lips, spying the scarlet fruit dangling from the tree’s limbs.
Though the rain felt heavy against her body, she lifted herself into the sky, arm outstretched
and reaching for the fruit. Closer and closer she flew, until it was just within reach. A smile
broke out across her face, only to turn to a grimace of horror as the robot’s arm rose up and
its massive hand came down on her like a mountain, crushing her back into the pavement.
Blossom rose up on her hands and knees, her eyes wide. Though the robot swung at her with
enough force to shake the entire city, she hadn’t felt a thing. In fact, as she rose to her feet,
she felt warm power flowing through her body. She turned her gaze to the robot.
Black tendrils erupted from the robot’s back, lifting it like a marionette, dangling from dark
strings. The robot’s arms lifted and spread, its head turning toward her. She could see
burning red lights through the cracked glass of the cockpit.
Thunder roared overhead and the steel clouds parted. A figure descended from above, her
arms spread, outlined by great jagged wings. Her face was familiar, but Blossom couldn’t
place why. She could feel burning hatred in the girl’s dark eyes. She descended until she was
in front of the CXI.21. Her lips moved, but Blossom couldn’t hear what she was saying. A
blazing, violet flame consumed the evil angel, pouring from her eyes.
The Powerpuff Leader turned, hearing a sound from behind. The hateful darklight by the evil
angel had caused her shadow to grow long and wide. Three pairs of eyes, burning red, blue,
and green, appeared in the shadow and rose up from the ground. They continued to grow,
twisting and contorting into unspeakable monstrosities that eventually towered over the
Powerpuff Girl.
Lightning split the sky and one last booming thunderclap drowned out the rest of the sound.
Blossom turned once more, her eyes widening. She uttered a single word before a brilliant
orange light, colder than the black rain, consumed her.
Is to Know Thyself
Chapter Summary
After receiving a chilling premonition, Aku comes across the remains of Mojo's most
recent invention. Taking pity on the machine, he decides to give it a second chance
against the Powerpuff Girls.
The streets of Citiesville were seldom a welcoming place, but in the dead of night the only
solace from the constant threat of robbery or assault was the constant screeching of police
sirens from every direction. Roving packs of drunks and teens looking for trouble crowded
the sidewalks. Even with the constant police presence, the street in front of City Hall was a
popular place for loitering ne'er-do-wells and miscreants. One pack of troublemakers, a group
six, were laughing amongst themselves between drags of liquor and cigarette smoke. When
they heard footsteps approaching, only one, a tall young man—what little hair he still had
was colored bright green— bothered to look up.
“Ooh, look out,” he jeered, rising to his feet and blocking the path of the newcomer, “We got
a real scary jerk coming right at us.”
The others looked up, equally unimpressed with the creature approaching. The one standing
stood in front of the monster, leering up at him, despite the monster’s superior height.
“Where you going, pops? Gotta find a princess to take back to your castle?” When the
monster refused to slow his pace, the young man tried to shove him back. Though the
monster came to a halt, it was the punk who was sent stumbling back several steps.
Aku brought his hand to his face, stroking his beard.
“It would seem no matter the era, delinquents remain as ever they were,” he murmured,
glancing toward the others, who were getting to their feet, “Obnoxious and foolhardy.”
“What did you call me?” The green-haired punk got in the monster’s face again, grabbing
him by the collar of his shirt. His glare wavered when the demon looked him dead in the eye,
unmoved by his aggression. When his courage wavered, a glance back at his friends bolstered
his confidence.
“Kick his ass, Jake!” One of the others, a short girl with dark hair and even darker makeup,
shouted, her words slurred. A nearly empty bottle of wine dangled loosely from her fingers.
Aku remained unmoved and unimpressed when the punk tugged again at his collar. His hand,
which had been idly stroking his beard, became still. An inky darkness rose up from his
sleeve, coating his forearm and wrapping around his hand, His slender fingers grew longer,
thicker, and razor sharp. There was no urgency in his movements as he reached forward and
grabbed the punk by the chin. His claws dug into the boy’s flesh, drawing blood effortlessly.
The demon leaned in closer, until his nose was pressed against the punk’s.
“I called you stupid, boy.” With a thrust of his arm, Aku flung the teenager backward,
tumbling head over heels several yards away. He turned to the rest of the group, claws
twitching at his side. Flames rose from the demon’s eyes and his teeth sharpened into fangs,
“Is there any among you who wishes to challenge me?”
Before any of the teens could respond, Aku was in their faces, towering over them.
“Well? Speak, children! Who shall be the first to taste the brutality of death?” his voice
boomed, drowning out the usual din of the Citiesville night. Their screams almost brought a
smile to Aku’s face, as did the sight of them tripping over one another to flee. He watched
them disappear into the night, the flames in his eyes going out and his arm returning to its
more human-like disguise. He spied a fallen bottle of brown liquid and snatched it, taking a
seat on the bench the teens had once crowded around. He drained the rest of the liquor in one
long gulp, tossing the bottle to the ground.
The children were no different from their parents. Self-righteous tyrants who ruled over their
pitiful kingdom with the arrogance of gods. They preened and proclaimed their greatness,
crushing anything else beneath their heel. They thought themselves invincible, yet crumbled
the moment they found themselves in the presence of true greatness.
They thought him a monster, and yet as their cities grew, their forests shrank and their waters
turned bitter. They cursed him from their mouths while their hands did his work for him.
Aku drew in a deep breath, basking in the filth of the city air. With every breath, his power
grew. He slowly let it out in a long, rumbling growl. His eyelids felt heavy; the beating in his
chest was even heavier. Taking in another breath, Aku let his eyelids close for a moment.
Aku, in his true form, floated in the cold vacuum of space. He looked down at his claws, then
looked forward. The Earth was before him, dwarfed by the titanic shadow he cast. A grin
spread across his face and he reached toward it. His hands were so colossal, they could
easily crush the entire planet.
Aku’s eyes widened, the mirth vanishing in an instant. In their reflection, lay the city of
Townsville, it’s golden skyline turned to cinder. Fire rained from the darkened sky, reducing
what remained of the city to ashes. He heard no screams of pain nor cries of suffering. His
chest tightened; the scene brought him no joy.
He was once again looming over the planet Earth. Its oceans ran red with blood, its land was
scorched black. A great cold was spreading from the city of Townsville; ice colder than the
darkness of space, colder than the silence of death itself, was consuming the planet.
Aku turned his gaze down, spying a tiny black form between him and the Earth. Though she
was little more than a speck compared to himself, her presence loomed over the universe
around her. The cold was coming from the small figure. He opened his mouth to say her
name.
Her eyes snapped open, revealing raging flames of hatred. A sharp-toothed grin spread
across her face, devoid of joy, dripping with malice.
Aku’s eyes opened wide, his mouth pulled into a thin line. Visions were not uncommon for
one such as he, but this time…he recognized that look, he’d seen it on her face several hours
ago. So, it would seem his efforts could prove more fruitful than he’d at first imagined.
“Hm…” the demon disappeared in a swirl of dark magic, retreating to the Pit of Hate. Once
again in his true form, he approached the frozen flames and willed them to show her to him.
She was asleep, though her face was scrunched, the corners of her mouth pulled into a frown.
A thin sheen of sweat trickled down the side of her face. He recognized the way her eyes
fluttered behind her eyelids. This was no dream.
“So, the future reveals itself to you as well, Red Child?” Aku murmured, resting his hand
on the edge of the vision. Did she see the ruined Earth, as he had? Or could she see some
other way forward? Aku frowned, his thumb tracing the outline of her face. He knew better
than any that the future was not immutable.
Her wicked grin flashed in his mind’s eye. Aku’s grip on the edge of the vision tightened.
When, at long last, she went still, her frown becoming a tiny smile as she turned and
snuggled up against her raven-haired sister, he too felt a weight lifting from him. His
shoulders sagged and a smile found its way to his lips. His thumb continued to caress the
outline of her face. The tightness in his chest loosened, replaced by a gentle thump that
mirrored the way her side rose and fell with every breath.
“Sleep well, child…tomorrow, we shall see whose future lies ahead.”
The lair of Mojo Jojo had seen better days, though it had, admittedly, seen worse. Nuts, bolts,
and assorted metal scraps littered the floor and shelves. The lamps above flickered, one going
out, leaving the room cast in a mix of dim artificial light and the silvery-blue glow of the
moon pouring in through the windows. The scientist was seated at his workbench.
“Yes, yes! How foolish, how shortsighted, how...how…” Mojo grunted, pulling a panel loose
from the weapon on which he was working. He chuckled, replacing the part within, “How
stupid to cast aside such a mighty tool. It had failed to defeat them, yes, but that was no fault
of its own. No, it was not a malfunction or error of the weapon that led to its defeat. It
worked as it should: perfectly, completely, and exactly as designed. It was that stupid girl.
Yes...yes! She was the cause, the reason, the source of my failure, not my magnificent
weapon!”
A nearby monitor displayed the blueprints for the weapon, an oversized gun with a dial on
the side. An excessively large label stretched across the entire top of the blueprint in small
font, declaring it to be the “Special Liquid-Electron Gun Specially Designed for Shooting the
Antidote of Chemical X at the Powerpuff Girls and Eliminating Their Powers.” The
blueprints featured several blocks of equally wordy notes, some of which had been scratched
out and replaced with even more wordy blocks of text. At the bottom was a simple phrase
that had been circled several times “Antidote-X Temporary?”
“Even if it had been successful, the exposure to Antidote-X at the party showed that it would
have been temporary, ephemeral, it wouldn’t have lasted long. There is no removing, erasing,
or easing their powers. Not for long, anyway…” Mojo muttered, tapping his pen against his
desk. He turned to the far corner, where several robotic arms were attaching thick, see-
through pipes to a large glass capsule. He nodded and returned to his work.
“Constant exposure should be enough…with any luck an hour or two. That time should be
sufficient to gather a large enough sample of the original…”
Across the room, at the lab’s main computer, another blueprint took up all of the
supervillain’s monitors. Depicting a machine unlike anything the city had ever seen before,
there was a blank space with a question mark at the top next to the word “Project.” In the
bottom left corner, the words “True Chemical X” were written, circled, boxed, and then
underlined, with an arrow pointing toward the robot’s core.
The lights flickered again. The blueprints on the screen darkened, becoming red. A rubber
duck sitting on the console gave a small squeak. A cursor appeared in the blank space at the
top of the document. The untouched keys began clacking, filling in the blank:
HELL’S INFERNAL MACHINE
In the early morning hours, there was little excitement to occupy the skeleton crew manning
the Townsville Police Station. Though the city was famous for its unbeatable defenders,
Townsville had maintained a steady stream of crimes, big and small, since the girls were
born. In the last year; however, the crime rate had plummeted. Petty crime, robberies, and
muggings were practically non-existent. What crises the city did face, tended to come in the
size of a mountain with sharp fangs and claws, or with superpowers that left the police
powerless to do much more than usher the citizens to safety.
While his peers mingled and chatted, playing cards and downing cup after cup of coffee to
fight off sleep, one officer, Miguel Perez, was alone at his desk, diligently filing the day’s
paperwork. On his computer screen was a news article: “The Powerpuff Girls Defeated?”
written in bold font, with a blurry snapshot of the shadowy creature that had appeared the day
before.
“Perez, you want on the next hand?” O’Malley asked, dropping off a fresh cup of coffee for
his partner.
“Thanks, uh, not yet. Deal me in next time around, I gotta finish a few things still,” Perez
replied without looking up from his work.
O’Malley raised an eyebrow, eyes drifting from the papers his partner was huddled over, to
the article on his monitor. With a shrug, he clapped Perez on the shoulder with a heavy hand
and made his way back to the table.
“Don’t work too hard, bud. Save some for the day crew.”
Perez chuckled, but continued his work. Lifting his eyes to his monitor, he moved the article
aside, revealing a spreadsheet beneath. Numbers tracking the crimes reported in the city since
the birth of the Powerpuff Girls. At first, he’d simply thought he was being paranoid, but as
the year stretched on and the numbers continued to decline, he couldn’t help but feel
something was off. They’d hit the longest stretch of complete silence in Townsville’s entire
recorded history, two weeks of nothing: no monster attacks, no disasters, not even an incident
of jaywalking. It looked like crime had just about ceased entirely, right up until yesterday,
when the city was hit with the biggest disaster it had seen in years.
And the Powerpuff Girls' first defeat in twice as long.
Maybe he was paranoid, Perez thought as he filled in the data from that day. If he was,
though, it was the damnedest coincidence that the day after that monster appeared, the police
were called to stop their first armed robbery in months. Perez glanced up at the lights as they
flickered, muttering something about budget cuts before returning to his work.
In the time it took for the lights to flicker, a shadow slipped in unbeknownst to the officers
milling about the station. Sticking to the corners, pausing when anyone went by, it made its
way to the back of the station, under the door to the evidence room. Moving with a purpose,
the shadow made its way to the back of the room, where a massive vault door, labeled
“Supervillain Evidence Locker” stood. Without hesitation, the shadow slipped inside.
Rising up to take on his true form, Aku approached the remains of the metal monstrosity that
he had emerged from. It was in pieces, limbs torn apart and broken down to allow it to fit into
the massive underground vault set aside for the worst weapons that Townsville’s supervillains
had created. He rested his hand against the side of the machine, closing his eyes.
Though it was inert, he could feel immense hatred lingering in the metal. Most of it, he
recognized as his own. Lingering residue from his pre-life state, forever etched into the
machine’s frame. But, deeper still, he felt something more. A stinging bitterness left behind
by the machine’s creator.
“Resentment so strong it has become one with this colossus. Pitiful creation...you, who
aided in returning the mighty Aku to life, deserve life yourself.” Aku reached into the
heart of the machine, wrapping his fingers around the broken core. A wave of nostalgia
washed over him as he tightened his hold, “Take my strength, just as I took yours.”
When Aku released his hold, the core once more pulsed with red light. Dark tendrils wrapped
around it, filling in the cracks. Strands of black reached for the machine’s lost limbs.
A sinister smile spread across the demon’s face, cast in the scarlet glow of the fallen metal
titan’s now beating heart.
“Go, dear machine, and wreak your havoc upon this world,” Folding his hands behind his
back, Aku vanished, but the darkness within the CXI.21 continued to grow. Behind the
broken glass of the cockpit, a red light began to shine.
Floating just on the edge of consciousness, she snuggled deeper into the warm softness
beneath her. For a fleeting moment, her mind was still and quiet. A soft, airy sigh passed her
lips, letting her sink deeper into comforting stillness. Just as the welcoming darkness crept in
to whisk her back to sleep, Blossom’s day began with a blistering, ripping pain spread up and
down her back. Her mouth fell open, a strangled, hitched cry barely escaping.
“Blossom! Hang on! It’s okay!” a voice thick with concern cried out, just barely heard over
the redhead’s gasping cries.
Blossom clamped her mouth shut, choking back another cry. She flinched forward, a
whimper and a few stray tears escaping her control, when she felt a cool hand on her bare
back. Breathing in fast, shallow breaths, Blossom began to settle as Bubbles continued to rub
her back, her soft, gentle touch chasing away the burning pain.
“It still hurts, huh?” Bubbles’ voice was closer, just to her side.
Straining her tired muscles, Blossom forced herself to turn the other way, toward her sister.
Her vision was still blurry, made worse by the fresh tears falling, but she could feel herself
relaxing, losing herself in the cool blue of her sister’s eyes. The redhead sniffled and offered
her sister a small, fragile smile.
“Uh huh,” she admitted.
Bubbles returned her smile. Her hand slipped to the small of Blossom's back, where it
seemed to ease the greatest pain. Bubbles beamed when her eyes drifted shut and her
whimpers were replaced by weak, but content moans.
“What time is it?” Blossom sighed, her words slurred.
“Don’t worry, it’s not that late,” Bubbles assured her.
Blossom’s eyes cracked open and her tiny smile became a frown.
“Buuuubbles,” the fatigue in her voice was quickly becoming irritation, “What time is it?”
With a sigh, Bubbles replied, “Promise you won’t get mad?”
“I proooomiiiiise.”
“It’s a little bit after noon,” Bubbles snorted and giggled when her sister responded just as
she’d expected, burying her face in her pillow to smother an exhausted, frustrated scream.
“It is that late!” Blossom whined, “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
Though it was a monumental task, Bubbles managed to keep from laughing again, knowing it
would just upset her. It wasn’t often that she got to see Blossom like this. Her sister prided
herself on her independence and tried to act like a pillar of strength for the others, even
though they’d never asked her to do anything of the sort. While Bubbles respected Blossom
the Leader of the Powerpuff Girls, she’d have been lying if she said she didn’t prefer the
moments where she let her guard down.
“You’re adorable, Blossom.” She meant to just think the words, so even Bubbles was
surprised when she heard them said aloud. The blonde quickly covered her mouth,
smothering another giggle at the sight of her sister’s cheeks turning pink. After regaining
control of herself, Bubbles resumed rubbing Blossom’s back. She waited until the redhead
began to moan again before answering her.
“You were tossing and turning all night, so we wanted to let you sleep when you finally
settled down,” Bubbles explained, waiting for a response. When none came, she continued,
“Did you have a bad dream? Do you wanna talk about it?” The blue-eyed Powerpuff girl was
no stranger to nightmares, they came with spending every day from birth fighting against
abominations and world-ending monstrosities. When she was the one plagued with bad
dreams, her sister was always quick to lend an ear and a shoulder to cry on.
“I’m okay,” Blossom finally replied. With a hiss of pain, her arms shaking from the effort,
she forced herself up. Falling backward onto her hands, she caught herself, gasping to catch
her breath as she stared up at the ceiling. Swallowing again, Blossom finally sat up, resting
against the girls’ headboard, “Where um, where are Buttercup and Ms. Keane?”
Bubbles slid into the space beside the redhead. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she rested
her head against Blossom’s. She waited until her sister leaned against her to answer.
“Ms. Keane had to pick up some stuff for class tomorrow, and Buttercup was bored, so she
went with her.”
“Mmm...I could have gone with her…”
Bubbles shook her head and grasped Blossom’s hand tight in hers.
“Ms. Keane’s the one who told us to let you sleep. And she’s right, you know?” Bubbles
squeezed her hand, “You need to rest sometimes, Blossom.”
Blossom opened her mouth to answer, but no words came out when an irritating buzzing
sound filled the air. The two sisters gazed across the room at the Hotline’s blinking red light.
“I’ll get the phone.” Without any warning, Bubbles turned and planted a kiss on Blossom’s
cheek, “You go get ready.” She waited until Blossom was up and floating to the closet before
hurrying to the phone. Hand resting on the receiver, her eyes followed her sister as she
changed. The cuts from yesterday, which had been deep and jagged, were completely gone
from her back. Satisfied, Bubbles beamed and answered the phone.
“Powerpuff Hotline, how can we help, Mr. Mayor?” The house suddenly shook and in the
distance, the sisters could hear explosions and people screaming. The receiver hanging loose
in her hand, Bubbles traded a look with Blossom. Without a word, the pair shot out the
windows of their room and toward the disturbance. The Hotline’s receiver dangled from its
stand, the Mayor’s babbling the only sound left in the room.
Officer Perez climbed out from beneath his desk, hissing and clutching his arm, blood
seeping through his fingers. He was about halfway free when the earth beneath him shook
and sent him face first into the dirt. The police station was in shambles, he could hear the
sound of gunfire and shouts of pain and confusion. With a grunt, he managed to push himself
up onto his elbow. All around him was devastation, toppled desks smashed into splinters, the
roof missing, and fire quickly spreading.
“Dammit,” he cursed, wishing he had taken O’Malley’s advice and left with the rest of the
night crew. The ground shook again, drawing his attention skyward. The officer’s mouth fell
open as a shadow fell over him. He couldn’t see anything beyond the colossal wall of metal
coming down at him. Hunkering down, he braced himself for certain death.
A streak of green smashed through his desk, soft yet firm hands grasping his shoulders and
effortlessly tugging him from the wreckage. His vision blurred from blood and sweat, Perez
gazed up at the metal monstrosity that had reduced the station to rubble. Its head turned
toward him, red light like a single, all-seeing eye glowing behind the cracked, tinted glass.
“You alright, Perez?” His savior’s voice finally drew his eyes away from the machine.
“Y-yeah, I’m,” Perez hissed as he was laid down, grabbing his arm. He immediately felt a
pain flare up in his side and became aware of the wet patch forming just above his hip, “D-
don’t worry about me, Buttercup. G-get in there and st-stop that thing.”
Buttercup knelt down beside the wounded officer, her eyes lightly glowing as she looked him
over. He wasn’t alright, she thought with a grimace. She reached for his side, pulling her
hand back when he cried out and jerked away from her hand.
“I’m gonna get you to a doctor, hang on!”
Perez shook his head. Sweat poured down his face and his chest trembled with every labored
breath he took. Still, when he spoke, there was no doubt in his voice.
“You gotta do your job, kid.” With a monumental effort, Perez lifted his broken arm and
flashed her a thumb’s up, “I’ll be fine.”
Buttercup climbed to her feet, biting her lip as she mulled over dragging him to safety. The
ground shook, causing her to turn in the direction of the machine. With a sigh, she nodded.
“You better be, or I’m gonna kick your butt, officer.” Returning his thumb’s up with a
fingerless gesture of her own, Buttercup shot off into the fray.
Blossom stared up at the metal fist flying toward her, her arms outstretched and braced for
impact. Just behind her, she could hear people screaming and scrambling to escape from the
machine’s rampage. A bead of sweat trickled from her brow, her teeth gnashing as the pain in
her back grew with every inch closer the fist came.
She was spared the robot’s wrath when an emerald comet crashed into the arm, sending it
flying away. Buttercup appeared at her sister’s side, shouting at the people behind her.
“Quit standing around and get out of here! Go!” Hearing her sister leaving, Buttercup took
off after her, regrouping with Bubbles in the sky above the precinct, “Woah…”
The CXI.21, or rather, what remained of it, dangled in front of them, held up by tendrils of
black thicker than tree trunks. The arm that she had deflected had fallen to the ground, only to
be quickly snatched up by strands of black from the robot’s shoulder, lifting it like a colossal
boxing glove. The machine’s movements were awkward and uncanny, jerking one way and
then the other, as if being tugged about by unseen strings. Its head, which had previously
been stationary, turned upward to face them. Beneath the cracked glass, was a single crimson
light.
It seemed to be glaring at them.
“Do you think he’s inside or?” Bubbles started to ask.
Blossom quickly cut her off.
“That’s Aku’s essence, but there’s no way that’s him. The movements are too unnatural,” she
explained. Her jaw tensed and her hand moved to her cheek, as if expecting it to be bleeding
again.
“You think the same plan will work again?” Buttercup asked.
Blossom shook her head, eyes focusing on the robot’s chest. The darkness seemed to be
centralized where the core was before, but passing through that dark seemed like a bad idea.
Her cheek began to sting and the pain in her back flared up again, just imagining further
contact with the demon’s essence.
“We’re not fighting the robot, not really,” Blossom tensed and shifted into a defensive stance.
The robot was starting to move, lifting its arms up, fingers stretched in the same stance it had
used to fire its laser. From the corners of her eyes, she could see the area clearing out. There
were still people in danger, not to mention the destruction a fight with something this size
would cause while the city was still recovering.
“Evasive maneuvers, focus on supporting the citizens’ retreat and utilize ranged attacks on
the dark-” Blossom’s eyes widened, hearing a hum quickly filling the air, followed by a
crack,” Scatter!”
The girls spread out, just barely avoiding the ray of heat fired from the machine’s core. The
CXI.21’s head swiveled as it came alive once more, launching its next attack.
Buttercup ducked beneath a swipe from the machine’s arm, only to find herself beneath
another massive metal boot. Spying people behind her, she shot upward, throwing her full
weight against the CXI.21’s foot and tossing its leg straight into the air. The darkness
stretched, then tensed, bringing its foot back down at her twice as fast.
“Aw c’mon!” Buttercup growled, ducking beneath another swing from its arm before
throwing her hands up to catch the boot. It quickly forced her to the ground, but she managed
to halt its momentum just inches from the pavement.
At the other end of the street, Bubbles was zipping through the street, snatching the slower
citizens up and rushing them to the evacuation point. Hearing a scream, she turned and
launched herself into the path of the CXI.21’s boot, deflecting it just enough to allow the last
of the stragglers to escape. She watched in amazement when the kick stopped in midair, then
reversed direction almost instantly.
She moved to avoid the strike, only to hear something fast approaching from behind. Looking
over her shoulder, Bubbles stared wide-eyed at the robot’s open palm flying toward her.
Blossom zoomed through the sky, twisting and ducking around the salvo of black spears
firing from the CXI.21’s missile silos. Though they varied in size, they were mostly uniform
in design, covered in crooked barbs, each of them moving like they had a mind of their own.
The redhead shot upward at a sudden ninety degree angle and unleashed her heat rays on the
spears as they tried to follow. Panting, she spun to avoid the few that had managed to survive
her attack. Launching herself back to the ground, she looked around, trying to find the others.
The machine’s movements were physically impossible, she noticed, watching as its arms and
legs tangled and switched, flying without a care for maintaining the machine’s footing. Just
as she suspected, it wasn’t the robot at all that was attacking them, but the black mass inside.
Passing in front of the machine, Blossom locked eyes with the red light in the cockpit. The
instant its attacks slowed, she fired her heat rays, straight into the robot’s core. The machine
was sent flying back, the darkness twitching and shaking. Though her attack seemed
effective, it only slowed the machine’s rampage. Jerked about by the black mass within, it
climbed to its feet and lunged at her, clapping its hands together where she’d been just
moments before.
“Heat seems to work! Try to burn away the dark parts!” Blossom shouted at her sisters before
diving back into the fray. She swooped beneath the robot’s strike, heat rays ripping through
the darkness holding up its arm. When the limb fell to the ground, she ducked behind another
attack and unleashed another blast on its core to drive it back a step.
Working with surgical precision, the redhead circled the machine, firing at any exposed
darkness. The street below was quickly filling with splatters of black as, piece by piece, the
trio cut the black mass down to size. The ground shook as one leg fell to the ground; a
building collapsed when the machine’s other arm came loose mid-swing and plunged into the
brick. The three finally regrouped, firing their heat rays in sync at the machine’s core,
sending it crashing to the street below.
“Did we get it?” Bubbles asked as the heroines descended on the robot’s dismantled torso.
Buttercup gave the side a kick, resulting in a loud, empty clang.
“Seems like it, it ain’t moving anymore.”

Blossom stepped closer, mitt to her chin as she tried to peer through the duranium. She
frowned, mentally cursing the metal for resisting her X-Ray vision. Her sister was right,
though, there was no movement coming from the machine. Bubbles and Buttercup seemed
miles away as Blossom’s gaze drifted up from the core, to the cockpit. Her eyes widened,
mouth falling open when she saw the blistering red light glaring back at her.
“Look out!”
Time seemed to slow as she thrust her arms out, shoving her sisters away with all her
strength. No sooner did she feel her hands touch their shoulders, she saw the robot’s
duranium chassis peel apart, black spears erupting from the dark within and headed straight
for her. Her body moving like she was underwater, Blossom crossed her arms over her face
and clamped her eyes shut, bracing for impact. The spears ripped through her flesh like it was
made of paper, tearing through her arms, her legs, and sides with enough force to knock her
off her feet. As she fought to hold back a scream of pain building in her throat, all of the air
was forced from her lungs when a sharp tip collided with her chest.
Her view of the blue sky above blurred until it turned black when she hit the ground.
Blossom drew in her arms and legs, mouth hanging open with no sound escaping. Though
her eyes were wide, she couldn’t see. Heat was spilling into her body, flooding through her
like magma through a volcano. She jerked to the side, arching her back as if struck by
lightning.
There are no monsters like me!
Blossom doubled over, pressing her face into the pavement. Though the blacktop had been
sitting in the sun all day, it felt cold as ice against her searing skin.
Is this truly the extent of your power?
Blossom arched her back again, something wet trickling from her lips. The fire that had
consumed her was quickly filling with lightning. She brought her hands up to her face,
pressing them into her eyes, trying to relieve the pressure building in her head.
What is a hero before a god?
She finally heard her own voice, rising up from within until it was a roar. Tearing her mitts
away from her face, she slammed them into the concrete, feeling it turn to dust beneath her.
Pushing herself to her feet, her vision was starting to return. The electricity within her surged
with enough intensity to cause her skin to vibrate. In her chest, where the fire burned the
hottest, a chill was starting to take over.
When she opened her eyes, all she could see was red.
What is a god before-
I’m going to beat you.

With a blood-curdling scream, Blossom shot toward the CXI.21, turning the street around her
into a shower of dust and debris. When its hand moved to intercept her, it failed to so much
as slow her, the pink streak effortlessly slicing through the duranium. Smashing into the
robot’s chest, Blossom rocketed straight up into the sky, vanishing above the clouds in an
instant.
Her vision began to clear and she became aware of voices crying her name.
“Blossom!”
“Hey wait up! What’s the plan, Red?”
Blossom growled and shook her head, forcing herself to see through the red. The heat inside
was finally fading, but the electricity it had left behind was still going strong. Her entire body
trembled beneath the rose-red glow radiating from her skin.
“We need more heat!” She shouted, speaking fast as the oxygen grew thinner by the moment,
“I’m taking it all the way up, then we’re going to hit it with Felicity Fiora Foxtrot!”
As the sky around her disappeared, replaced by the blackness of space, Blossom drew in one
last breath and shot herself up with enough force to pierce through the machine and appear
above it. Her sisters appeared at her sides as the robot began to plummet back to the Earth
below. Trading one last glance and one last nod, the three shot downward at full speed.
“FURIOUS!”
“FLAMING!”
“FELINE!”
As they fell to the Earth, the girls' bodies began to glow, becoming silhouettes of light that
quickly merged into a single destructive force. A pair of dark red spots appeared within the
light, which suddenly burst into flames, taking the shape of a massive, feral cat. The dark red
spots, the burning meteor’s eyes, narrowed and its claws stretched out. With a roar, the
blazing cat launched itself at the CXI.21.
The darkness within the machine was already burning, writhing and twisting in pain as it
caught fire from re-entering the atmosphere. An unearthly wail erupted from the darkness
when the fiery feline’s claws ripped through its arm. The dark tendrils that had been holding
onto the limb burnt away, turning to dust. The black mass wailed with each pass the feline
made, ripping it limb from limb. The feline tore through the robot’s chassis, its core devoured
in the meteor’s flaming jaws. Another unearthly wail cried out. The red light within the
cockpit moved around frantically, searching for any way out. It faced forward, wide and
frightened as the feline ripped through the cockpit, devouring what remained of the black
mass.
Though the darkness had been destroyed, the duranium parts of the CXI.21 continued to fall
like shooting stars; duranium meteorites that would obliterate whatever was caught in their
path. Below, the citizens of Townsville gathered to watch the silver-blue comets streak across
the sky. As they came close enough to cast a shadow on the city below, the Furious Flaming
Feline streaked across the horizon, shredding what remained of Mojo’s metal monster.
“I’m so glad you made it safely. We’ve been thinking about you all day,” Ms. Keane paused
grading the homework on the coffee table and giggled, “Oh well, yes, I suppose they were a
bit distracted earlier today.” She nodded, a small smile on her lips as the Professor walked her
through his exhausting day.
“So, you’ll be meeting with your great-grandma tomorrow then?” she asked, looking up
when she noticed a report on the television about the girls’ fight earlier in the day. Picking up
the remote, she considered shutting it off—she hadn’t been watching it, she had just forgotten
to shut it off when the girls went to bed—but decided to turn the volume up and listen.
“This was an egregious breach of the Accountability Act,” a man with immaculately combed
white hair and stern features argued. Ms. Keane recognized him as Senator Kane, the former
mayor of Citiesville and the man responsible for the girls being stuck in her class for the third
year in a row. After winning a landslide election, Senator Kane introduced a bill called the
“Superhero Accountability Act.” Among the many privileges it revoked from superheroes
was heroic acts as an excusable reason for absence, both from work and school.
Needless to say, that, combined with how he’d treated the girls when they offered to help
protect Citiesville, had put him on the very short list of people Ms. Keane truly disliked.
“But, Senator, there was no damage outside of the city limits of Townsville. The jurisdiction
ruling in the Accountability Act-”
The Senator loudly cleared his throat, cutting off the interviewer.
“I’m well aware of the letter of the law, I wrote the damn bill. Taking that machine into the
atmosphere took it out of Townsville’s jurisdiction and into that of the United States. They
were able to clean up their mess before it could impact the rest of the country, but what about
next time? And where do we draw the line? Other heroes are able to safely operate within the
boundaries set by the Accountability Act, why can’t they?”
“Well, Senator, they are just children.”
“Children who can blow up bridges and tear down skyscrapers! If they are too young to
understand the law, they are too young to try to uphold it. How many more times will the
American People have to hear this excuse before-”
Ms. Keane shut the television off and roughly tossed the remote onto the couch beside her.
Her knuckles had turned white from the grip she had on the receiver by her ear.
“Cass, is everything alright?”
Pursing her lips, she glanced up at the second floor.
“I hope so, James…”

Bane of Evil
Chapter Summary
A young woman appears to bring the Professor to their great-grandmother. The

Powerpuff Girls are faced with the consequences of their actions in the fight with the
CXI.21, while Aku finds an avatar of hatred in the form of Princess Morebucks.
Chapter Notes
Since I failed to properly define it, and it's integral to this chapter, I wanted to add a
definition for a term I invented and have been using throughout the story. I've gone back
and added a better description to Chapter 3, but wanted to drop it here as well.
Darklight
Noun
An unheavenly, demonic heat that radiates darkness instead of giving off light.
As a paradoxical energy source, it can come in various colors which are still visible
despite it giving off darkness. Exposure to it has a psychological impact on mortal
beings, especially those sensitive to evil.
The Professor sat cross-legged on the floor, drawing in deep, cleansing breaths. Sleep eluded
him, but only partially due to jet lag. His grandfather had told him stories about his great-
grandma, but he’d never met the woman himself. As the current keeper of the sacred blade,
she was held in the highest esteem in his family, spoken of in the same tone one might use to
address royalty. Even when he reached out and asked for a sample of the sacred blade, his
grandfather had made the request on his behalf.
The Professor released the breath he’d been holding and slouched forward. How could he
face the woman responsible for guarding his family’s legacy and tell her that he was the one
responsible for bringing back the monster they were charged with stopping?
A knock at the door interrupted his creeping doubts. With a grunt, he rose to his feet, pausing
at the table to pick up the photograph he’d found on the plane. Seeing his daughter’s smiling
faces, and that of his oldest friend, he smiled. Slipping the photograph into his shirt pocket,
he hurried to the door as the knocking grew impatient.
“Coming, coming!” The Professor slid the door open, speaking slowly in rough Japanese,
“My apologies, sorry to keep you waiting.”
He had expected his great-grandmother, but was surprised to find a young lady with
dangerous dark eyes—her eyes were obscured by sharp black bangs with streaks of green—
and a scowl looking up at him. Her arms crossed tight across her chest, she made no effort to
disguise that she was sizing him up. She seemed even more upset when he flashed her a
nervous smile.
“So, you’re the famous Professor, huh?” Rolling her eyes, she turned and made her way back
down the hallway, walking with a brisk pace, “Let’s go, it’s a long drive to Hiiobaasan’s
place.”
“Oh! Um…” the Professor glanced back in his room. The young lady wasn’t slowing down,
“C-coming!” Quickly locking his room, her hurried after her, panting when he finally caught
up, “S-sorry, I was expecting-”
“Hiiobaasan has more important things to do than fetching some Gaijin,” the young lady
responded.
The Professor had thought he was mistaken, perhaps a translation error on his part, but now
he was certain he could hear venom in her voice. Clearing his throat and scratching the back
of his neck, he tried to change the subject.
“Ah, well, I understand. So, um, my name is Utonium James. Erm,” he flinched, throwing his
hands up defensively when she glared at him, “Well, that’s my American name. If you prefer,
my Japanese name is Imagawa Joichi.”
“I know who you are, Professor,” she shot back, practically spitting his title.
As the pair left the hotel, the Professor whistled when he spied the car waiting at the entrance
for them. He couldn’t place the make or model, but he could appreciate the sleek black finish
and green racing stripes— matching the similar streaks in his young companion’s hair—
along the sides. The vehicle came to life with an impressive purr at the press of a button.
“Get in,” the young woman ordered, slipping into the driver’s seat.
The Professor didn’t need to be told twice, hurrying into the passenger seat. The inside was
just as impressive. The seats didn’t seem to be made of leather, but they were easily the most
comfortable car seats in which he'd ever sat.
“This is some vehicle, is it yours?”
For once, the girl didn’t respond with venom. Shifting gears and glancing at her rear view
mirror, she peeled out into traffic with a roar of the engine.
“Hiiobaasan doesn’t drive,” she finally responded.
“Mm,” the Professor nodded. As the two fell into the flow of traffic, he felt himself growing
restless. Glancing at his driver, he noticed the way her fingers tapped restlessly against the
wheel, “Do you…” the Professor paused, momentarily paralyzed by the girl’s glare.
Recovering his nerve, he continued, “Do you always do favors like this for Hiiobaasan?”
The car swerved to the side, taking a sudden exit. As the traffic of the city began to fade, the
girl’s grip on the wheel tightened and the engine began to roar once more. Leaving the city,
the countryside flew past them as the black streak continued picking up speed.
“I’m the only one still around.” She spoke with an unmistakable sting of bitterness,
“Everyone else either left or died, so, yeah, I do her favors because if I didn’t, no one would.”
“That must be very difficult…?” The Professor trailed off, unsure what he should call her.
The girl threw a glare at him. The friendly smile he offered her only seemed to make her
angrier. With a sigh, she rolled her eyes and focused on the road.
“Michiko.”
“I’m sure she appreciates what you do for her, Michiko-san.”
Michiko refused to look at him, keeping her eyes focused on the road ahead. The Professor
peered out the window, his head spinning as the countryside raced by in a blur. He was
momentarily saved from a dizzy spell by the harsh sound of her voice.
“Why did you do it?”
“I’m sorry?”
The car skidded to a halt, a cloud of dirt blowing past. Where there had been frustration and
annoyance in her eyes before, the look now burrowing into the Professor’s soul held nothing
but contempt.
“Why did you bring him back!? You’re supposed to be a genius, aren’t you? How could you
possibly not know what you were messing with?”
The Professor frowned, tearing away from her gaze and facing forward. He gripped his knees
to keep himself from fidgeting.
“I did. Maybe not at first, but, soon enough, I realized what it was I’d found,” The nervous
awkwardness from before was gone. Instead, his voice seemed haunted, and much older than
he appeared, “I was young and arrogant. All I could think about were the possibilities if I
managed to find a way to use his power for good.”
“You can’t do good with evil!” Michiko snapped, “That’s what he is, completely, totally evil.
There’s no way anything good could ever come from that!”
“You’re wrong.”
Michiko was taken aback by the sudden certainty in the skittish scientist’s voice. She
loosened her grip on the wheel, taking the photograph he was offering her.
“The Powerpuff Girls?” She asked, looking up at him.

“My daughters. They were made from my experiments on his essence. For years, I agreed
with you. I was wrong to tamper with something I could never control. But then, one night,
they were born. And I realized that it was possible.” The Professor took the photograph back,
staring at it for a moment before returning it to his pocket, “Sometimes, something truly good
can come from something completely evil.”
Michiko pursed her lips and stared at the road ahead of them. Shifting gears, she resumed
their journey, at a safer, though still very illegal speed. After several minutes, her voice, much
softer now, broke the silence.
“She…she said the same thing when she took me in.”
It was a bright and early Monday at the Utonium Household. Ms. Keane was seated at the
table, frowning as she looked through the morning paper. The top story should have been the
girls’ defeat of the runaway robot, but the senator’s speech had stolen the spotlight. A
particularly nasty article had managed to make its way to the front page, with a headline
declaring “Powerpuffs Above the Law?”
Setting the paper back down in disgust, Ms. Keane busied herself by preparing breakfast for
the girls and packing her school supplies. She beamed with girlish giddiness as she packed
away her lesson planner. While out the day before, she’d come up with an idea for a brand
new project, one the girls hadn’t already done to death.
She looked up, hearing a heavy knock on the front door.
“Hm? Now who in the world could that be?” Ms. Keane wondered aloud. Whatever she had
imagined, it didn’t compare to the sight of a tall, muscular man draped in the stars and
stripes, his face hidden behind a golden eagle, standing on the front porch, “Oh, um…how
can I help you?”
The man cleared his throat and rested his hands on his hips. When he smiled, his teeth shone
in the morning sun.
“Forgive my showing up unannounced, Mrs. Utonium. As I’m sure you’re well-aware, my

name is Major Glory, America’s favorite son and sworn protector. Might I have a word with
your daughters?” His voice was just as showy and boisterous as his outfit.
A sheepish giggle escaped her lips, hand rising to her cheek as she felt herself flushing.
“Oh no, I’m sorry Mr. Glory, I’m not their mother. My name is Cassandra Keane. I’m
watching the girls while their father—my good friend—is out of the country,” she made sure
to emphasize that the Professor was just a friend. Daring to think otherwise, her mind flooded
with the memory of the night before he left, gave her the giggles and caused her chest to
flutter.
“Mmm, I see. Well then, Ms. Keane, are the Powerpuff Girls here? We’ve a matter of
national security to discuss.” Major Glory insisted, his overly cheerful tone beginning to
sound forced.
“Oh yes, of course! Please, come in Mr. Glory, I’ll fetch the girls.” Ms. Keane motioned for
the superhero to take a seat on the couch as she hurried up the stairs.
“It’s Major Glory, Ma’am,” he called after her.
With a knock on the door, Ms. Keane slipped into the girl’s room, shutting it behind her.
“Good morning, girls. How’re you feeling today?” she asked, taking a seat on the edge of the
bed. Bubbles was already up, brushing her hair at the vanity, while Buttercup was still in bed.
The raven-haired girl was “trapped” beneath her still slumbering sister’s arm, “She's still out,
huh?”
Buttercup looked down at Blossom, wearing a tiny smile as she listened to the exhausted
redhead’s soft snores.
“Yeah, she was up late again.” Buttercup lightly touched Blossom’s arm. The wounds caused
by the CXI.21’s spray of spears had quickly healed, but like Fuzzy’s attack, they had left her
in a considerable amount of pain for most of the night. “Should I wake her up?” Buttercup
asked, looking up at Ms. Keane.
The teacher sighed, tilting her head back and forth. On the one hand, they still had a while
before they needed to leave for school. On the other…
“I think that would be for the best. There’s a visitor here to see you three,” Ms. Keane
explained, leaning over to gently shake the sleeping heroine, “Blossom, sweetie? It’s time to
get up.”
“Five more minutes…”
“I wish you could, sweetie, but there’s a Mr. Glory here to see you,"
Bubbles and Buttercup perked up, the latter flying to the bedroom door and peeking out.
Major Glory really was in their house, sitting on their couch, whistling the Star-Spangled
Banner as he shifted his weight back and forth, crossing and uncrossing his legs.
“What does he want?” Buttercup muttered, crossing her arms and leaning back against the
door. She snatched the dress Bubbles was holding out to her and quickly began to change.
“He mentioned it was a matter of national security,” Ms. Keane said, still trying to rouse the
sleepy Powerpuff girl from her blanket cocoon.
“I wonder if he wants to tell us we’ve been doing a good job!” Bubbles exclaimed, plopping
onto the bed. Spying one of Blossom’s feet poking out from beneath the covers, she reached
over, giving it a quick tickle, “Wake up, sleepy head!”
The bundle of covers squeaked and jerked away. Her hair a mess and eyelids heavy, Blossom
sat up with a yawn.
“I’m awake! I’m awake!” Glaring at the doorway, she drew in a long breath, then let it out in
another yawn. “I think I know why he’s here…”
“Really? What do you think he wants, Blossom?” Bubbles asked, following her sister as she
got changed for the day. After Blossom slipped into her dress, the blonde went to work
brushing the tangles out of her long mane.
Blossom smothered another yawn and let her eyes drift shut. She sighed with content,
rocking side-to-side in rhythm with her sister’s gentle brushing.
“It’s probably about what was on the news last night, right, Ms. Keane?”
Ms. Keane winced, her hand hovering over the doorknob.
“You heard that?”
Adjusting her bow so that it was seated perfectly on her head, Blossom gazed at her
reflection in the mirror. She flinched, running her mitt across her cheek. The cut had
disappeared entirely, but it was hurting as if it were fresh.
“Let’s get this over with…”
“And so, in response, I made the decision to personally visit you to ensure that you
understand the gravity of the situation.” Major Glory finished his initial explanation, pacing
in front of the sofa where the girls and their guardian were sitting.
“So wait,” Buttercup spoke up. Her arms were crossed tight over her chest, her shoulders
shaking as she fought to keep her voice down, “You’re here to yell at us because you don’t
like how we beat that robot?!”
“I’m not here to yell, Butterball. I am simply stating the facts. By taking your fight out of
Townsville’s airspace, you recklessly endangered the rest of the country, not to mention the
rest of the world. If any of the shrapnel from that machine had hit a major city, the damage
would have been catastrophic,”
“We weren’t out of Townsville’s space! We went straight up!” Buttercup shouted, rising to
her feet. She narrowed her eyes into dangerous slits, sitting down when Ms. Keane motioned
for her to relax. Crossing her arms again, her shoulders resumed shaking.
Major Glory crossed his arms and matched her glare.
“I understand that reading is a challenge for children your age,” it was clear from his tone,
and how he ignored Bubbles and Buttercup’s shouts, that his patience was running thin, “But
as of May last year, the Superhero Accountability Act was signed into law. The jurisdiction
clause, which determines the legal boundaries of a superhero’s activities, clearly states that
once an incident has reached the point where the possible damage extends beyond the limits
of the superhero’s city of operation, it becomes part of the jurisdiction of the state, and then
the country. Once you entered the atmosphere and endangered everything below, your fight
entered the jurisdiction of the United States of America,” Major Glory gestured to himself,
his voice low and deathly serious, “My jurisdiction. Had there been any damage caused by
your reckless strategy, it would have been on my head.”
“There wasn’t any damage.” Blossom finally spoke up. Her head was low, her eyes focused
on a spot on the floor. She kept her hands clasped tight in her lap. Her cheek was burning and
new pain was starting to spread from the small of her back.
“That may be, but it was still a-”
“An egregious breach of the jurisdiction clause?” The corners of Blossom’s mouth twitched.
Heat was rising up her arms and legs, radiating from her chest. “Townsville has been under
attack for three days. People have lost their homes, their businesses, their entire lives, and
there hasn’t been enough time to start recovering. We had to take the Robo Jojo out of town
to keep the people counting on us safe and prevent more destruction.”
“And what about the safety of the people outside of Townsville, hm? Is it right to risk their
homes and livelihoods to protect those of Townsville? Being a superhero isn’t supposed to be
easy. You don’t get to decide which laws to enforce and which to break. It is our duty to the
people of the United States of America, and the people of the world, to enforce the laws
written by our great country.” Major Glory, who had been pacing around the room, came to a
halt in front of the couch, “The people who disagree, who think their special abilities place
them above the law, are what we call supervillains.”
The superhero took a deep breath to stop himself from continuing. Glancing at the clock
hanging over the mantel, he cleared his throat.
“I have to be going, but there’s one last thing you need to understand. Violation of the
jurisdiction clause normally carries a hefty fine. Luckily for you, the city of Townsville has
offered to pay your bill.” Major Glory whipped his cape behind him and made his way to the
door. He paused, hand hovering over the doorknob. Closing his eyes, he sighed, “Please
understand, this isn’t about punishing you for saving your city. This is about accountability.
As individuals with extraordinary abilities, we have a responsibility to those around us to be
better. You have to try harder to live up to that standard.”
With that, the superhero gave them a salute and took his leave.
“What a bunch of bull!” Buttercup shouted the minute the door closed.
Bubbles rested her chin on her mitts and sighed.
“Poor Mr. Mayor...I hope it wasn’t too much money…”
As the two continued talking, their words were muffled to their sister. She continued to stare
at the same spot on the floor. Her clasped mitts were trembling in her lap. Her heart was
pounding in her chest, pumping heat through her body. There was a ringing in her ears and a
crimson haze at the edge of her vision.
Even in the early morning, Citiesville Town Hall was bustling with activity. Interns racing
from one room to another, cups of coffee nearly spilled with every corner turned, and a
parade of contractors rotating through the lobby, fighting for even a minute of the busy
mayor’s time. There were so many bodies, constantly coming and going, that it wasn’t
completely unheard of for someone to slip in undetected. Normally, security would quickly
take notice and escort the intruder out, but something about the slender, red-haired monster
that had been sighted in recent days gave them reason to pause.
Despite the tension that a monster’s presence caused, he hadn’t technically done anything to
draw their concern. While he didn’t make room for the humans rushing by, he seemed to
keep to himself. Of his few offenses, the most serious was stealing the mayor’s coffee every
morning. An intern once tried to correct him, but the monster’s half-lidded glare ended the
conversation before it could begin.
As he did most mornings, Aku snatched the mayor’s coffee and his morning paper, before
retreating to the employee break room: a tiny room with barely enough room for two small
tables and a shelf with a single, mostly functioning microwave. The demon paused at the
counter, popping the lid of the coffee open and dumping half of the remaining sugar packets
into the murky brown liquid. Taking a sip, he took a seat at the back of the room and began to
read the paper.
There was a protest against inhumane conditions at a local factory, a spree-shooter finally
apprehended just to be killed on the way to the station, and a rumor that the former-mayor
was embezzling funds from his reelection campaign. Sipping his coffee, Aku’s lips curled
into a smile, but his eyes narrowed and his grip on the paper tightened.
“Did you hear Kane’s interview last night?” A young man with shaggy salt-and-pepper hair
and a scruffy beard asked another as the two burst into the break room. They paused to
glance at the monster in the corner. The first man lifted his hand in a polite wave. He
shuddered when the monster simply nodded and turned his attention back to the paper.
“Man, that guy haaaates the Powerpuff Girls. Like, I don’t think he’ll ever get over them
wrecking the bridge,” the second man laughed, plopping down in one of the free seats and
lifting a rolled cigarette from his shirt pocket. Lightning it and taking a drag, he coughed out
a cloud of white smoke and offered it to the first man, “Me? I wish they’d come back and
blow it up again, I could use another three-weeks paid vacay!”
The first man reached for the cigarette, but his personal phone began to ring, stealing the joy
from his face.
“Ah, fuck me. I can’t, God dammit,” the man ignored the call.
“Who you meeting with today?” The second man took another drag from the blunt.
“Fucking Morebucks,” the scruffy-haired man groaned and brushed his hair back from his
face, “You wanna know who really, really hates the Powerpuff Girls? Morebucks’ kid.
Kane’s got nothing on that little bitch.”
Coughing, the second man raised an eyebrow.
“Seriously? What, they push her down on the playground or something?”

“Fuck if I know, man. Shit’s so bad we aren’t even allowed to mention them when we’re
meeting with the guy,” the scruffy man looked at his phone when it began to ring again,
“Shit, I gotta take this.” As he passed by, the second man clapped him on the back.
“Get that money and get paid!” Once his friend was gone, the man turned to the monster,
offering the blunt, “Hey man, you wanna hit?”
Aku was still staring at the door where the scruffy man had gone. Draining his coffee in one
long sip, he slid to his feet and folded the paper, dropping it on his table.
“I am afraid I must decline, but, rest assured, your offering shall not be forgotten,” Aku slid
into the seat where the first man had been sitting and leaned forward on the table, “Where can
I find this daughter of Morebucks?”
“Why can’t I come with you? I wanna leave the house!” A girl with curly red hair and a
perpetually whiny voice demanded, stomping her foot. She glared at her father, clenching her
fists at her side when he shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Princess, but you’re still under house arrest,” her father, Duke Morebucks, sighed
and crossed his arms over his generous gut. He refused to make eye contact with her,
knowing that if he did he’d inevitably give in to whatever she wanted. As much as he wanted
to meet her demands, even his money had limits.
“But, I wanna leave! I’m bored! There’s nothing to do!” Princess cried, forcing crocodile
tears to spill down her cheeks, “I thought you loved me? Why won’t you let me be happy?”
“Princess, I…” Duke’s response was cut off by his cell phone ringing. Checking the number,
he could feel his blood pressure rising, “Darling, I have to be going. I promise, we’ll do
something exciting once I’m done dealing with these clods in Citiesville.” Answering his
phone and turning before she could argue further, he hurried out the door.
The eight-year-old heiress watched him leave, her beet-red face getting redder when the door
shut on her. Clenching her eyes shut, she stormed away from the door. Stomping her way
back to her room, she angrily wiped the fresh, sincere tears from her cheeks. It wasn’t until
she was in her room, door slammed shut behind her, that she finally looked up from the floor.
Throwing herself down on the bed, Princess buried her face in her blankets and screamed.
“I want out! I want out now!” Princess cried, kicking her legs and pounding her fists against
the plush mattress. After spending four months in Townsville Prison, she’d been released
with some pressure from her daddy, only to end up stuck under house arrest ever since. That
had been five months now, and even with all the money in the world, she was going crazy.
“Poor child, all alone...locked away from the world.”
Princess sniffled, tensing when she felt long, sharp fingers caressing her head. She sat up,
staring slack-jawed at the monster sitting on the edge of her bed. She’d seen him before. He
was the one who defeated them.
“It’s you…”
Aku’s hand slid from her head, across her cheek, and down to her chin, tilting her head up
with a single claw.
“Why are you trapped within these walls, child? Surely someone of your power and
importance does not deserve to be imprisoned.”
Despite the demon’s imposing presence, something about his honeyed words drew her in.
Before she knew what she was doing, the words fell from her lips.
“It’s their fault! Those stupid, no-good, rotten Powerpuff Girls!” Just thinking about them
caused her to bristle. She screamed again, hitting her fists against the bed, “They think
they’re so good and so special just because they have superpowers!”
Aku stroked his beard and peered around the room, looking over the drawings and
photographs on the walls depicting the little girl’s various schemes to overcome the city’s
defenders. He turned back to her, a wide, wicked smirk on his face.
“It is true, the gifted often do look down upon those beneath them. The arrogance of
humanity is second only to that of its heroes.” Aku slid his arm around her and tugged her
closer. He held his hand in front of her face, open palm facing upward, “What would you be
willing to give for,” Aku slammed his hand shut, streams of wicked magic seeping through
his fingers, “the chance to crush them. To show that it is you who is the superior one?”
“I’d pay anything!” Princess hissed, unable to look away from the demon’s glow.
“Anything? Is that so…” Aku rose from the bed and stalked to the other side of the room.
Plucking a drawing from the wall, depicting the little girl behind him in an impressive suit of
armor, he tilted his head back and forth, “Do you hate them, child?”
Princess jumped up from her bed, hurrying to the monster’s side.
“Of course I do! It’s their fault I’m stuck here! It’s their fault I don’t have any friends! It’s
their fault everyone hates me!” Princess could feel she was crying again. She didn’t know
why she felt compelled to spill her heart out to him, but with every declaration she felt the
fire inside burning hotter. It was an intoxicating feeling. She looked up and gasped. The
demon was gazing deep into her eyes. She could no longer make out his facial features,
seeing nothing but a shadow with flaming eyes.
“Are you truly prepared to pay the price?” Aku held his hand out to her. His entire form
shimmered with evil energy, “Your hate will become a weapon, a power to challenge the
very gods themselves. But, in wielding this power, you shall become your hate.”
Princess reached for his hand, only hesitating when he continued.
“There is no going back, child.”
She wanted to pull her hand away. But, peering into the oppressive darklight the demon gave
off, an image began to take form in her mind. It was her eyes, narrowed and looking down on
her. It was the frown on her face as she effortlessly beat her down. It was her voice that made
the decision for her.
Because you’re just a spoiled brat.
Her doubts burnt up in the violet flames that consumed her when she took Aku’s hand.
It was an otherwise quiet morning for Pokey Oaks Kindergarten. Ms. Keane hummed to
herself as she finished taking roll call. With an earnest smile, she began writing on the
chalkboard.
“Alright class, I am very excited to announce that we’re going to begin working on a very
special project!” Setting the chalk down, she moved in front of her desk and motioned to the
board, “Would someone like to read what’s written on the board?”
While several hands went up, she turned expectantly toward the back of the room, certain she
would be greeted with a waving hand and bright, excited rose eyes. She was shocked to,
instead, find herself staring at Blossom’s bow. The redhead’s eyes were fixed on the table in
front of her.
“Um, uh, y-yes!” Ms. Keane turned and pointed at one of the students in the front row,
“Samuel, please go ahead.” Though she tried her best to feign enthusiasm as the little boy
struggled through the sentence, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the Powerpuff Girls’
table.
“Wh-wh-Who is m-m-my sp-sp-spectacle-”
“Special, Sammy,” Ms. Keane corrected without looking up.
“Who is my special p-p-person!”
“Very good job...,yes, very good,” Ms. Keane returned to the chalkboard, mentally hitting
herself for her disinterested tone. She picked up the chalk and began to write once more,
“We’re going to be working on a project for the rest of the semester called the ‘Special
Person Project.’ You’ll each pick one person who means a lot to you, and will prepare a
presentation to share with the rest of the class, explaining why they are your special person.”
The teacher trailed off hearing the door open. The chalk slipped between her fingers and
dropped to the floor, her mouth falling open at the sight of the newcomer.
An unusual hush fell over the entire class, a silence broken only by the footsteps approaching
the Powerpuff Girls’ desk.
“Princess?” Buttercup cried, jumping to her feet.
“What have you done?” Bubbles gasped.
“Well, well, well. The smartest girl in Townsville is still stuck in kindergarten. That must be
so humiliating. I know I feel embarrassed for you.”
Bubbles, her hands covering her mouth, and Buttercup, her teeth clenched and eyes
narrowed, stared at Princess. Despite the heiress’s taunt, their leader continued to stare at her
lap, where her fists lay trembling.
Princess slammed her hand down on the table and leaned forward..
“Don’t you dare ignore me.” There was a dark, inhuman edge to her voice. As her temper
grew, the violet flames around her grew fierce, casting the room into shadow.
Blossom finally looked up, staring unflinching into Princess’s dark gaze. The whites of her
eyes were flooded with the same violet darklight that had engulfed her body. Darkness
covered her from head to toe, vaguely shaped like the original golden armor she’d worn in
their first fight. The claws on her hand scraped against the wooden table; the darkness
covered her mouth like a mask, one that pulled back to reveal her sharp-toothed grimace.
Sharp black spikes, like a six pointed crown, rose up from her head.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at home?” Blossom asked, rising to her feet and leaning forward,
mirroring the taller girl’s pose.
The flames around Princess burned hotter, her teeth gnashing. The dark mask wrapped
around her face.
“I don’t have to listen to you. With the power he gave me, I don’t have to listen to anyone
anymore!” Obscured by the mask, her voice was lower, with a ghostly echo behind every
word.
Blossom stood upright, placing her hands on her hips.
“I guess if you’re bored at home, we can put you back in jail.”
The flames around Princess flared up, her eyes shrinking into searing dark slits.
“I’d like to see you try! You can’t treat me like that anymore! I’m smarter than you! I’m
better than you! And with his power, I’m stronger than you!” Princess glanced at Bubbles and
Buttercup, but her hateful glare quickly focused on Blossom, “Just you and me. I’ll finish
these two losers off once I’ve buried you!”
“Yeah right, c’mon let’s shut this brat up, Red!” Buttercup prepared to launch herself at the
black-clad villainess, but found herself held back by an unexpected arm, “Blossom?”
“Fine,” Blossom’s answer came in a low whisper, “Just us. No one else.”
“Um! Not inside, girls...if you don’t-”
Before Ms. Keane could finish her request, Princess reached out and shoved Blossom,
sending her flying backward, through the wall and spiraling into the street. The heiress
wasted no time in chasing after her, a streak of crackling violet following in her wake.
Staring at the hole left behind, Bubbles turned to her sister.

“Should we help her?”
For a moment, Buttercup considered charging in without a care for the stupid rules Princess
had demanded. But, opening her mouth to give the order, she recalled the look on Blossom’s
face. Her eyes had been burning with a kind of cold fury that chilled her to her core.
“Let’s let her deal with Princess, we just gotta make sure no one else gets hurt.”
Bubbles nodded and the two took off through the hole, leaving behind a concerned class and
an even more worried teacher.
Blossom dug her mitts and feet into the pavement, digging a trench through the street to bring
herself to a halt. Taking in a deep breath, she looked up, irises glowing and seeing everything.
She’d been knocked clear into town, leaving Pokey Oaks Kindergarten little more than an
outline on the horizon. No warning had been called or alarm raised, so the street was still full
of people, traffic brought to a screeching halt when she came careening into their path.
Her eyes narrowed as a violet streak approached. Casting the briefest of glances at the scene
around her, Blossom launched herself into the air, meeting Princess half-way. It was easy
enough to avoid the first strike, but swinging back, Blossom noticed the way the darkness
covering Princess rippled when she struck her side.
“Is that it? You’re gonna need to try way harder than that!” Princess sneered, throwing
another reckless swing at the Powerpuff leader, her attack slicing through empty air.
Blossom fell back, ducking beneath another violent strike. Though the kick missed her, the
force crashed into the nearby buildings ,smashing the windows in and showering the streets
below with glass. She could hear people screaming and prayed that they would be able to
evacuate in time. Unfortunately, she didn’t have long to consider the safety of the citizens for
more than an instant before her enemy was at her throat.
The violet glow around Princess flared with every punch and kick. What the heiress lacked in
discipline and skill, she more than made up for with raw power and speed. Forcing Blossom
into a helpless defensive, she sneered, feeling even more power flooding her body. Pulling a
punch short, she reared back when Blossom predictably dodged.
“Quit dodging and just DIE!” Princess shrieked, throwing her hand forward. The air in her
palm ignited and released an explosion of her hateful power. Though Blossom managed to
bring her arms up to block the attack, the force sent her soaring through the air.
Blossom grunted, crashing through a window and landing on the floor of an office building.
When she tried to climb to her feet, a surge of agony raced up her arms, causing her to fall to
her knees.
“You can’t hide from me!” Princess smashed into the building, flinging shrapnel and debris
through the office.
Still unblinking, Blossom shot to her feet, intercepting the debris to protect the fleeing office
workers. She couldn’t stop to ensure their safety as Princess lunged at her with a devastating
slash of her claws. The redhead grit her teeth, leaning back until her head touched the ground.
Balancing on her mitts and pulling her legs in, she flung herself at Princess, causing the
heiress to stumble back several steps. In that time, she did another sweep of the room,
breathing easier after seeing it was empty.
“Quit ignoring me!” Princess roared, the ground collapsing beneath her feet when she
charged the heroine. She collided with the Powerpuff girl, shoving her through the far wall.
Digging her claws into Blossom’s shoulders to prevent her from escaping, she tugged her
forward, smashing her knee into her chest.
Blossom gasped, spittle spraying from her mouth, the air forced from her lungs. She could
hear the sonic boom caused by Princess’s attack echoing around her, leaving her disoriented.
That was enough time for the heiress to land a blow to her cheek, sending Blossom crashing
into the street below.
The moment she touched the ground, Blossom rolled away from Princess’s fist crashing
down where she’d landed. She drew in a shallow breath, forcing her eyes open before falling
into step with her enemy’s furious barrage of attacks.
Princess swiped and clawed at Blossom, chasing after her like a feral cat. Any attack that
missed and hit the ground, she used to thrust herself forward. The heat around her was
growing, the air becoming darker. As her claws finally met their mark, tearing open
Blossom’s chest, a manic grin spread across her face. Through the violet haze, the red of her
enemy’s blood was the one thing she could see clearly.
The clashing streaks of pink and violet rocketed from one corner of the street to another,
leaving a trail of wreckage in their wake. Cars were sent flying, street lamps torn from the
ground, and concrete hurled like it weighed nothing at all. Her hateful flames crackled as her
claws drew blood from the rose light once more. While the pink streak continuously tried to
steer away from the crowd still fleeing the scene, the violet streak was more than eager to
send her flying at the bystanders. The two finally collided, smashing into a building that
began to crumble.
Princess laughed wildly as her claws dug deeper into Blossom’s shoulder. She had the
Powerpuff leader pinned, swiping at her with her free hand. Though the redhead’s ability to
continue to dodge most of her strikes was frustrating, the ones that did land spilled more of
the scarlet nectar that her raging darkness craved.
“I told you!” she sneered, slashing Blossom’s face, “but, you just don’t get it! I’m stronger
than you! I’m faster than you! I’m smarter than you!” Every declaration, her strikes came
faster, each hand heavy enough to turn the concrete she had the Powerpuff girl pinned to into
rubble, “I’M BETTER! SAY I’M BETTER!”
Princess curled her claws into a fist, unleashing a punch with all the strength she’d gathered.
She felt a fresh blood on her knuckles as she watched the redhead go flying through the
building’s foundation. Clutching her fists, she couldn’t resist the urge to shriek with laughter,
relishing the feel of Blossom’s blood squishing between her fingers.
Blossom, once again, dug her mitts into the ground to bring herself to a halt. Gasping for
breath, blood and sweat streaking down her face, she tried to scramble to her feet. The power
that Aku had given Princess was no joke. She was getting stronger and faster by the second.
She wiped her mouth, spitting blood to the ground. As she managed to stumble upright, she
quickly doubled over again, resisting the urge to scream as white-hot pain spread across her
back, as if she’d been struck by Fuzzy’s claws once more.
“Oh, I’m sorry, are you done already?”
Blossom grit her teeth and stood up. Turning toward Princess, she started to suck in a fresh
breath of air. Her breath caught in her throat, forced out by a massive blow to her stomach. A
heavy backhand sent her flying backward, tumbling to the ground once more.
“You’re pathetic! Hahaha! You’re so weak! Look at you!” Princess spat, storming toward
Blossom. She stopped in her tracks, her grin growing as she watched Blossom climb to her
feet once more. Her vision cleared enough to see the frightened silhouettes behind the
heroine, “Oh, is that it? Are you trying to keep these worthless people safe?” Princess
cackled. Her power flared and her claws clutched at her sides.
“Fine! Just try to save them from THIS!” With a screech, she flung her hands forward, energy
erupting from her fingers.
Without any hesitation, Blossom threw herself forward, crossing her arms and bracing for
impact. When the attack hit, her heart skipped a beat and her eyes bulged. The darklight
poured into her wounds like submersion in an acid bath. Her knees shook, pressure building
in her chest. She buckled down, trying to resist, but it felt like a million searing razors ripping
her skin apart.
She could feel the ground beneath her crumbling, but the world outside of the pain was gone.
The pressure was getting heavier, forcing her to her knees. Her jaw was starting to go numb;
she was drawing blood from biting her lip. The pavement beneath her face was staring to
crack and melt away. Her chest felt like it was going to explode.
“Does it hurt? Are you gonna cry?”
Blossom could still hear Princess’s voice through the roaring in her ears. She screwed her
eyes shut and tried to resist, but when the heat reached her chest, it became too much. It
seemed like an eternity before she realized that she was screaming. It wasn’t until her cries
fell silent that the wicked child finally relented.
Princess tossed her head back, laughing so hard she was having trouble standing. She
doubled over, resting her hands on her knees, giggling uncontrollably as she watched
Blossom writhe and whimper on the ground. The violet blaze around her had grown so thick
that it was nearly impossible to see the girl inside.
Heat was spilling out of Blossom’s chest, racing through the rest of her body. Lightning
chased the fire, the two filling her until she felt like bursting. Her heart was beating faster and
faster, until-
“Poor Blossom! Guess your best wasn’t good enough!” Princess cackled, stomping toward
the fallen heroine, “Where’s your brilliant plan, huh? You don’t get it yet, do you?” The
heiress stomped down on the redhead’s side, eliciting a satisfying whimper of suffering. “You
can’t beat me. It doesn’t matter how hard you-”
Blossom’s eyes snapped open.
The Powerpuff leader was on her feet before Princess could register what was happening. Her
arms hung at her sides, but she was standing tall. When the heiress looked into her eyes, it
wasn’t defeat that she saw staring back.
“No...no, no, no! Wh-what are you doing? How? No!” Snarling, Princess hurled a
devastating punch at the Powerpuff girls’ face. Her fist collided with the redhead’s cheek, a
shockwave erupting from the point of contact that reduced the rubble around them to dirt.
Blossom hadn’t moved at all.
Princess’s eyes grew wide, her mouth falling open. With a scream of “No!” she threw another
punch. The redhead’s arm rose like a viper, batting aside the strike. The collision of their
blows released another shockwave. Before the heiress could think to throw another punch,
she looked down just in time to see Blossom lift her other mitt.
A thunderous clap shook the entire city of Townsville when Blossom’s fist met Princess’s
face. The heiress groaned, her vision swimming as she struggled to get back to her feet.
Looking around in a bleary daze, she was shocked by the scent of salt in the air and the sound
of lapping waves. She wasn’t given long to consider how far she’d been thrown before her
thoughts were interrupted by the heavy sound of someone landing nearby.
Princess scrambled to her feet. Though the flames of hate raged around her, they flickered
when she looked into the rose eyes that birthed them.
“This...this is impossible! You can’t beat me! He said I’d be unbeatable! He said I’d crush
you!” a panicked growl building in her throat, she screamed at the heroine, “What’s going
on? Were you even trying before!?”
Blossom lowered her head, a tremble rolling through her body.
“You’re the one who doesn’t get it,” she hissed.
“What do you-”
“It drives you crazy, doesn't it? The idea that there is something in the world that you will
never, ever have, no matter how hard you try.” Every word she spoke dripped with bitterness.
Her fists clenched tighter, her arms shaking.
“You’re exactly the type of person who could never understand. That’s how the world is. It's
made for people like you. As long as you try your hardest, you can be happy! That’s all it is,
isn’t it? You can get what you want if you just try harder, try harder, try harder!” Blossom
growled. The ground beneath her feet began to crack and the air around her began to
shimmer.
She lifted her head, the light in her eyes had become so bright, it poured out in streams of
rose-red heat. Tears rolled down her face, steam rising from the wet streaks on her cheeks.
“You’ll never understand. None of you will ever understand what it’s like living in a world
that wasn’t made for you! You’ll never understand what it’s like to spend your entire life
surrounded by eggshells and glass, knowing that if you screw up even once, you could break
everything!” The air, which had grown eerily still, began to stir, swirling around the
Powerpuff girl as her shimmer burst into a fierce pink blaze.
“I AM ALWAYS TRYING, PRINCESS!” Blossom’s voice boomed and the pavement

beneath her split open, flinging concrete into the air, where it was vaporized by the heat
exploding from her body. The tears in her eyes turned to steam before they could be shed.
“Every hour, every minute, every second of every single day of my life, I am trying! Trying
to protect everyone around me from myself!” The freezing wind began to howl as snowflakes
whipped around her. The skies were growing darker as the light pouring from her skin grew
brighter, “Every step I take could be an earthquake! Every breath could be a hurricane! I can
never rest, I can never relax, I just have to keep trying harder, even though I know I’ll never
fit in! Even though I know it will never be enough!”
Her eyes narrowed, boring into Princess, piercing her to her very soul. The darklight around
her flared in retaliation, but its fury couldn’t compare to the blinding light that Blossom gave
off. Blossom’s voice cracked again as she finally began to scream.
“DO YOU STILL NOT GET IT? THEN LET ME SHOW YOU WHAT HAPPENS
WHEN I FINALLY STOP TRYING!”
Princess slid back a step, her eyes wide. She couldn’t see the way the ground exploded as if a
bomb had gone off, leaving the entire street as a crater. She couldn’t hear the buildings
collapsing, or see the way their steel and glass melted before disappearing entirely from the
heat. All she could see was the dark silhouette outlined in rose light that was inches from her
face. Her brain couldn’t process anything save its most primal instinct: fear.
The waters of the Bay of Townsville were ripped apart first by a calamitous force, then by a
streak of violet slicing through the water. A second streak of pink raced by, the air in its wake
combusting and blowing apart the dock. It raced past the violet streak as if it were standing
still.
Blossom’s second hit sent Princess hurling back toward town, crashing through building after
building. She couldn’t even hit the ground before the Powerpuff girl caught up again, an
earth-shattering kick sending her straight into the atmosphere. As Blossom shot after her
target, an eruption of pink energy stretched out from her takeoff point, obliterating everything
in its path.
“Wha-” Princess sucked in a desperate breath for air. She couldn’t recall her last breath, and
the one she was needed so dearly was forced from her lungs by an impossible force slamming
into her back. It took almost a full second for her eyes to focus. When they did, a breathless
cry escaped her lips just as Blossom brought her fists down on her chest.
The darklight surged around her, protecting her from the meteoric impact of hitting the
ground. Power surged through her body, giving her the strength to stand up, chest heaving,
struggling to catch her breath. The dark power was quickly healing her wounds, but even that
wasn’t strong enough to stop the pain.
“Fi-fight me! I can, I can still beat you!” Princess screamed at the sky. Hearing a sound, she
whipped around, her vision focusing, enhanced by the hate flowing through her. A mighty
blow collided with her stomach, robbing her of her breath.
Princess managed to catch the glimpse of a pink streak before another, even harsher blow
slammed into her back. She turned again, only for a kick to hit her knee. Back and forth, she
tumbled and swiveled, trying to catch up, as the hail of attacks grew more furious by the
moment. All she could do was swing her arms wildly, hoping she might hit her. Before long,
she couldn’t muster even that meager retaliation.
Her head spinning, her body aching with pain too much for the suit to handle, Princess was
saved from the storm of strikes by an explosive punch to her chin. Soaring through the
warehouses along the dock, she skimmed the surface of the bay once again. Power surged
into her body from the suit, restoring her vision in time to see a rose star eclipse the Sun.
“I’m s-”
What had passed for pain before couldn’t compare to what Princess felt when Blossom’s fist
collided with her cheek.
The pair crashed into an island off the coast of Townsville. An eruption of scarlet-rose power
that could be seen from the moon wiped out its mountains and lakes. Waves upon waves of
force spilled out from the point of impact, pushing back the ocean’s water like colossal walls
of sea green and blue. As the water came crashing back down, what remained of the island
shook and began to crumble.
Blossom screamed as she threw blow after blow at the fallen heiress. Her violet power still
burned, though it was a mere flicker of what it had been. Pausing to catch her breath,
Blossom glared down at her.
“You see? It doesn’t matter who you go to for help,” Blossom hit Princess with an
devastating blow when she tried to sit up, “Mojo, Fuzzy, the Rowdyruff Boys, Aku,”
Blossom threw another punch, blood spilling from Princess’s mouth as she bounced against
the ground, “It doesn’t matter how many devils you make a deal with!”
“I’m s-”
Blossom roared as she punctuated every word with a punch that shook the planet around
them, her vision consumed by red.
“NONE OF YOU WILL EVER BEAT ME!” With one last scream, Blossom brought her
fist down in a punch that created another mushroom cloud of rose light.
The light cleared, revealing Princess Morebucks in the outfit she’d picked out that morning.
Blood spilled from her lips and one of her eyes was swollen shut. Her only movements were
the shallow breaths she was taking; her only sounds were the whimpers that came with each
breath.
Towering over her, Blossom breathed in furious gasps. Now she was the one engulfed in
merciless, burning light. She couldn’t take her eyes off Princess’s face. Every breath the
heiress continued to draw caused her scowl to deepen, until it became a snarl of blind rage.
She roared, rearing back and lunging forward with one last punch.
“STOP!”
“BLOSSOM!”
A streak of blue appeared in front of her, shoving her backward. A streak of green caught her
arm, struggling to hold her back.
“Stop! Please stop, please, Blossom!” Bubbles wailed, arms wrapped tight around her sister’s
waist. She dug her heels into the ground and pushed with all her might.
“You won! You beat her, Red! It’s over already!” Buttercup begged, tugging on Blossom’s
arm with both of hers.
Blossom took a step forward, dragging them with her. Their cries helped wash the red from
her vision. Lowering her arm, she looked first at Princess, then at her sisters, and then finally
down at herself. Their voices helped settle the siren blaring in her head. Her voice hitched
when she tried to speak. Her body gave out as she crumpled into their arms. Their embrace
helped to soothe the flames inside of her.
The Rite-on-Time Diner wasn’t the most popular restaurant in Townsville. It had its share of
regulars, and it was an occasional pit-stop for folks traveling through the city, but most days
it was slow, but honest work. Exactly the type of work that an ex-convict needed.
It was nearing the end of the morning “rush”, that the news began reporting on the fight in
town. That sort of news was normal for Townsville, so much so that most of the regulars just
kept right on enjoying their meals, oblivious to the broadcast. No one seemed bothered, save
for a particularly attractive waitress. Resting on her heels and leaning against the register, she
watched the report play out, tucking her snow white hair behind her ear.
Princess had Blossom pinned to the ground, blasting her with some kind of heat ray or laser
weapon that was unlike anything the waitress had seen before.
“Ma’am, more coffee if you don’t mind!”

Pursing her lips, the waitress cast an annoyed look at the customer. When he flashed her a
smile, she rolled her eyes and slid to her feet, fetching a fresh pot. She kept her ears open,
hoping to hear an update on the fight. If anyone was going to defeat the Powerpuff Girls, she
had honestly hoped it wouldn’t be Morebucks. She never could stand the little brat.
“Here you are, hon!” She chirped in an overly saccharine tone, filling the customer’s mug
until it was nearly overflowing, “Remember, refills may be unlimited,” the sickeningly sweet
tone in her voice disappeared, replaced by dry disgust, “but my patience isn’t.”
Leaving the pot on the table, she returned to her space at the register, eyes drifting back to the
broadcast.
“None of you will ever understand what it’s like living in a world that wasn’t made for you.”
Her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open slightly, the waitress snatched the remote and
moved closer to the TV, cranking up the volume.
“I can never rest, I can never relax, I just have to keep trying harder, even though I know I’ll
never fit in! Even though I know it will never be enough!”
“Uh, ma’am? Ma’am! Check please?”
The waitress’s hand slid to her cheek, her green eyes shimmering. She couldn’t look away
from the heroine, her face contorted with rage, eyes red with tears, her entire body consumed
in deadly light.
“Ima!”
The waitress jumped, turning to face her boss.
“Hm? Is something wrong?”
The portly older woman gestured toward the customer who had been trying to get her
attention. Laughing sheepishly, Ima hurried over to the table.
“Oh gosh, of course! Let’s get you checked out, dear.” Ima Goodlady froze, clutching the
customer’s check to her breast when she heard a shout from the TV.
“LET ME SHOW YOU WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I FINALLY STOP TRYING!”
“Ma’am, the bill?”
“I’m going, thank you for your patience, hon.” Ima chanced a look at the TV as she made her
way back to the register. “A world not made for you, huh?” She rang up the check, counting
out the change. Returning the check to the customer, she flashed them a bright smile, leaning
against the table. While she chatted with the old couple, a black strand snuck out from the
back of her hair, slipping the expensive watch from the old man’s wrist.
After seeing them off, Ima returned to the register to admire her new watch. She’d been
trying to be good for so long…maybe it was time she stopped trying, too?
The Approaching Storm
Chapter Summary
The Professor meets his great-grandmother, who shares with him the greatest kept secret
of the Imagawa clan. When the girls explain the truth behind their power to Ms. Keane,
Aku searches for a way to overcome what seems to be an insurmountable challenge.
The long and winding road led the pair into a remarkably untouched part of the countryside.
The roaring vehicle came to a gentle halt at the edge of a long dirt path. Michiko wasted no
time in hopping out.
“This way, Hiiobaasan is waiting for us,” she called over her shoulder without waiting for
him.
“C-coming!” the Professor called back, scrambling out of the car and hurrying after the
young woman. He fell into step beside her, catching his breath and gazing around the
property. Tucked away in a lush forest, the grass was filled with a multitude of colorful
flowers, many that he’d never seen before. As they approached the tiny house tucked away
behind the foliage, his eyes were drawn to the horizon, to a mountain that towered over the
forest.
“My word,” the Professor muttered in English, awestruck by the breathtaking beauty of the
heavenly glow that seemed to surround the mountain. It wasn’t until hearing a warm, older
voice that he realized he’d stopped moving.
“Ah, Michiko-chan, thank you so, so very much for bringing Joichi-chan.”
The Professor peeled his eyes from the horizon to face the old woman approaching him.
There was no doubt that she’d seen her share of winters, but he still found himself struck by
how youthful she remained. There were few wrinkles on her face, save for laugh lines that
were accentuated by the friendly smile she wore. Her silver hair was neatly secured in a bun
atop her head. Though she walked with a cane, she stood upright, without the slightest hitch
in her step.
It was her dark eyes, though, that truly captivated him. When she smiled, he found his nerves
settling as his worries melted away. Though she was nearly a full head shorter than Michiko,
Imagawa Ashina, the guardian of the sacred blade, was just as awe-inspiring as the mountain
that loomed over her home.
“I must apologize for any confusion Michiko-chan’s arrival may have caused you. I meant to
meet with you myself, but, ah…” Ashina turned to the young woman at her side with a wry
smile, “This one is always eager to show her usefulness,” she reached out and took Michiko’s
hand, squeezing it tight, “I do so appreciate her.”
“Hiiobaasan, don’t embarrass me,” Michiko muttered, refusing to meet the Professor’s gaze
all the while also refusing to release the old woman’s hand.
Their great-grandmother laughed, turning once more to the Professor.
“Forgive my discourtesy. Welcome to our home, Professor Utonium,” she bowed her head, “I
hope your journey was a peaceful one.”
“It was!” The Professor quickly bowed his head, “Th-thank you again for meeting with me,
Imagawa-sama.” He looked up when the old woman began to laugh.
“My word! Please, Professor, you needn’t be so formal.” Ashina chuckled and took his hand
in hers, “Your reputation precedes you, dear. I am the one who should be showing respect,
Professor.”
“No, no, please, um, Hiiobaasan, you may just call me Joichi,” the Professor nervously ran
his hand through his hair, glancing at Michiko, who was watching the two like a hawk.
“Very well, come then, Joichi-chan, bring your things inside. If it pleases you, you shall stay
with us until your departure.” Ashina turned and began to head back inside.
The Professor glanced at Michiko, then at the old woman.
“Oh, um…we left in such a hurry, I actually forgot my things back at the hotel.” he explained
sheepishly.
“Well, that won’t do. If it is no trouble, allow Michiko-chan to gather your belongings while
we talk. You’ll do that for me, won’t you Michiko-chan?”
“Of course, Hiiobaasan,” Michiko replied with a polite bow. She paused in front of the
Professor, rolling her eyes when he fumbled to find his hotel key. The moment he pulled it
free, she snatched it from his hand and hurried back to her car.
The Professor watched her leave, waiting until she disappeared in the distance before
hurrying into the house.
“I hope she hasn’t given you too much trouble, Joichi-chan. Michiko-chan can be very
protective. She’s not used to other people, which I fear is mostly my doing.” Ashine
explained, pouring the Professor a cup of tea.
The house was cozy and quaint, the picturesque Japanese home. Kneeling down at the table,
he found his eyes drawn to the numerous photographs that lined the walls. It didn’t take long
to spot pictures of his grandparents, parents, and even himself and his brother.
“No, she’s not been any trouble at all. She is, um, very determined,” the Professor waited
until Ashina joined him before trying his tea. His eyes drifted closed. He slowly released his
breath, letting the soothing warmth pour through him.
“I’m glad,” Ashina sighed, pouring her own cup of tea, “Life has been cruel to the poor girl;
it has taught her to not trust easily.” Taking a sip from her tea, she beamed at the Professor,
“She has taken to you already, Joichi-chan, it is such a joy to see.”
The Professor chuckled and shook his head.
“I’m not sure about that. I have the impression she’s not fond of me,” he explained, thinking
back to their conversation in the car.
“It may seem that way, but I promise, had she not found a reason to trust you, she would have
not brought you to me. What did you say to earn her trust?” Ashina asked.
At first, the Professor was unsure. He hadn’t noticed a change in his younger relative’s
demeanor. Gazing into his tea, he recalled something she had said to him. Carefully removing
the photograph from his pocket, he offered it to his grandmother.
“It may have been when I showed her this. She…asked what good could come from
experimenting with evil, and-”
Ashina took the photograph with a delighted gasp.
“Look at this! These are the Powerpuff Girls, yes? Oh my, Joichi-chan, they are beautiful,”
Ashina dabbed the corners of her eyes with a napkin, laughing softly, “I understand.”
“Sometimes something good can come from something evil,” the Professor murmured,
smiling when Ashina nodded.
“Yes, I have always believed that to be true as well,” the old woman carefully handed the
photograph back to the Professor, “Thank you, Joichi-chan.”
The Professor shook his head, lightly pushing the old woman’s hands back.
“You can keep it. I think the girls would be thrilled to be with the rest of the family,” he
explained, gazing once more at the photographs that lined the walls.
Ashina held the photograph to her chest and smiled.
“I am honored, Joichi-chan. Thank you, again.” The old woman climbed to her feet, gazing
once again at the photograph. Glancing at her grandson, she motioned for him to follow her,
“Come, while I would love nothing more than to spend the evening sharing stories and
getting to know my wonderful grandson, I know that you are here on borrowed time.”
The Professor rose from the table and hurried after her, following her once more out of the
house and down a stone path that led toward the mountain. Before long, they came across a
shrine. Modest in design and otherwise unassuming, the Professor’s breath caught in his
throat when he laid eyes on the sheathed sword resting on the altar.
“Is this?”
“The sacred blade of Imagawa-kensei,” Ashina explained, setting the photograph of the girls
on the shrine, “It has been my responsibility since I was eight years old to watch over
Imagawa-kensei’s weapon and to stand vigilant should the world ever again fall to darkness.”
The Professor bowed his head, a pang of guilt piercing his heart.
“I’m sorry, I never meant to bring him back.” He looked up in confusion when Ashina
laughed and lightly tapped him on the head with a scroll of thick parchment.
“Joichi-chan, I didn’t bring you here to chastise you. No, while I would not have been strong
enough myself to tamper with the devil’s remains, I understand where your heart was in
doing so. I see here,” Ashina gestured to the photograph on the shrine, “that your efforts were
not done in folly, but in hoping for a better future.”
She turned back to him and smiled, her shoulders sinking and her features suddenly much
older than she had seemed before.
“I’m old, Joichi-chan. It would be my honor to bestow the blade upon you, but that is not a
task done so easily. You see, only one pure of heart and clear of mind can wield the blade of
evil’s bane. We will discuss what must be done to name you the new guardian of the sword,
but first…you are an academic man, Professor,” Ashina held out the scroll, nodding when the
Professor reached for it.
Taking it into his hands, he was amazed by both the age of the parchment and how strong it
still felt. He turned back to his grandmother, who was once again gazing at the photograph of
the girls.
“Do you know the story of Imagawa-kensei?” she asked him without looking up.
“O-of course! Jiji told us the story every chance he could. Imagawa Shinjiro’s homeland was
attacked and enslaved by the great demon, Aku. He traveled the world and trained with the
greatest heroes in history until proving himself worthy to wield the sacred sword. With the
magic blade in hand, he rode back to his homeland, fought through the demon’s minions, and
slew the beast himself.” the Professor could feel his cheeks flushing when the old woman
laughed at his enthusiasm.
“Yes, that is the story I told your grandfather and his brother many times. You recite it so
well, Joichi-chan!” Ashina covered her mouth to quiet a giggle. She approached the Professor
and laid her hands on his, “But, that is not the full story. The truth was something Imagawa-
kensei kept secret, passed down only to those who would inherit his sword.”
The Professor looked at the scroll, brow furrowed.
“Why would he hide the truth?”
“Because he feared how the world may react if they knew. They had been enslaved for so
many years by the darkness, he did not want to trouble their hearts and minds with the
knowledge that he had come to possess.” Ashina bowed her head, “I am entrusting that story
now to you, Professor Utonium. Once you know the truth, we will speak on what comes
next.”
With one last smile, Ashina excused herself and returned to the house. The Professor looked
down at the scroll in his hands. He hadn’t noticed before, but his hands were shaking. What
secret could his ancestor have known that he kept more closely guarded than the sword itself?
The Professor looked around, spying a bench along the path they had taken. Once he was
seated, he carefully unrolled the scroll.
“Herein lies the True Testament of…Samurai Jack?”
Across the ocean, in the Pit of Hate beneath Citiesville, Aku’s claws dug into the arms of his
throne as he watched the fight between the Powerpuff girl and the Morebucks child. The
demon was slouched low in his seat, his flaming eyes reduced to cinders, his mouth pressed
into a firm line. Whenever the wicked child landed a blow against the Red Child, the corners
of his mouth twitched, a frown fighting to take over face.
He had expected the Morebucks girl to put up a fight, but it seemed he had underestimated
the depths of her hatred. The mere sight of the Red Child was like fuel being thrown into an
all-consuming fire. Though the Powerpuff girl was powerful and a gifted strategist, when
faced with a foe of incomprehensible might, sometimes there was no opportunity to win by
wits alone.
“Does it hurt? Are you gonna cry?” The wicked child’s attack was relentless, a stream of
unending, burning hatred that had the Red Child pinned helplessly to the ground.
Aku sat upright, tearing handfuls of frozen flame from his throne when the redhead began to
scream. He had long found the screams of his enemies an exhilarating, thrilling sound. And
yet, it was not so with the Red Child. As her voice cracked and she wailed in pain, it was as if
he could feel his own body being torn apart. Rising from his throne and closing the distance
to the vision in one swoop, Aku leaned against the flames with one hand, while the other
clutched his breast. The beating in his chest was too much, every thump piercing him like the
tip of the sacred blade.
“E-Enough! This has gone on enough!” Aku gasped, preparing to pass through the vision
and put an end to the fight himself. The demon froze in his tracks when the Powerpuff girl
shot to her feet suddenly. “What is this?”
He could hear panic in the wicked child’s voice.
He could see determination in the Red Child’s eyes.
He had seen that look once before…
“I’m going to beat you.”
But not like this.

In an instant, whatever advantage the wicked child had built was ruthlessly cast aside. Aku
felt a surge of excitement, an uncontrollable grin spreading across his lips when the Red
Child sent the Morebucks girl flying from one side of the town to the other. His grip on the
wall of flames loosened, his hand drifting to the vision, caressing the Red Child’s cheek. A
tremble ran through his entire form as she spoke.
“DO YOU STILL NOT GET IT? THEN LET ME SHOW YOU WHAT HAPPENS
WHEN I FINALLY STOP TRYING!”
“YES!” Aku laughed, taking a step back to allow the vision to expand into a giant screen. It
was the strangest sensation, far more curious than the anger he’d felt before. Though there
was no joy on her face, somehow, he sensed it within her. With every punch that shook the
city, every collision of her fist against the wicked child’s face, Aku was certain he could feel
the thrill racing through her. The beating in his chest was racing, but it was a pleasant
discomfort.
“Incredible…” He murmured, stroking his beard in an effort to calm himself. His own
immense power had nearly tripled since arriving in Citiesville. That combined with the
flames of hatred within the wicked child should have made her unbeatable. Consumed in her
hatred, she was even more powerful than Aku himself had been when he crushed the
Powerpuff Girls just three days earlier. And yet…the fight, which had seemed in the
Morebucks girl’s favor, had been decided before it even began.
Excited as he was at this revelation, a chill settled in his core as realization dawned on him.
She hadn’t been bluffing when she confronted him. No, Aku now knew that had the safety of
the city of Townsville not stayed the Red Child’s hand, had she been allowed to, as she put it,
stop trying, the outcome of their fight would have been as she predicted.
Had she not held back, this child called Blossom would have surely destroyed him.
“They all possess such power? Mmm…held back not by ropes or chains, but by their
own wills,” Aku murmured, watching the Red Child land the final blow on the Morebucks
girl. Left in the dirt, broken and beaten, the wicked child was powerless to stop the heroine
from ending her miserable existence. As the other two appeared to stop their sister, Aku
turned away from the vision, returning to his throne. He sat down and sighed, tapping his
claws on the new armrests.
“Perhaps...I was mistaken?” The demon hummed and rested his chin on his fist. The vision
had changed again, now following the girls as they returned home.
The wicked child’s darklight hadn’t been destroyed. The Powerpuff leader’s final attack
could have snuffed the violet power...but instead, the unyielding rose light had devoured the
Morebucks girl’s darkness, taking away her hateful flames and making them its own.
Aku’s eyes unfocused and a memory flooded his senses. He could see her face, wreathed in
black; her eyes engulfed in flames. He could see her fangs gleam as she spread her lips into a
merciless grin.
“What is God to this Blossom?”

The atmosphere at the Utonium Household was anything but celebratory in the aftermath of
Blossom’s victory against Princess. Upstairs, in their room, Bubbles and Buttercup sat
against the shut and locked closet door. Within they could hear their sister’s heavy breathing,
broken only by the occasional sob.
“Blossom, can you come out, please?” Bubbles asked, sitting on her knees and pressing her
mitt against the door. She bit her lip to settle her own shaking breath, “It’s okay! Everything
is okay now, Blossom.”
“Yeah, Bloss, it’s alright.” Buttercup sat with her back to the door, arms wrapped around her
knees. She could feel from the way the door trembled that Blossom was leaning against the
opposite side.
After several tense minutes of silence, Blossom spoke up, her voice shaking.
“Everyone’s going to hate me now.”
“What? No!” Bubbles insisted, “That’s not true, Blossom! You saved everybody today all by
yourself.”
“Yeah, you were freaking awesome!” Buttercup added. She glanced over her shoulder, at the
door, “Come out, Blossom.”
“The Professor is going to be so angry with me…”
Ms. Keane peeked into the room, concern etched in her features. She quietly made her way
over to the girls, sliding to her knees and taking a seat in front of the door.
“He’s not angry with you, Blossom. He’s so proud of you,” Ms. Keane said, continuing when
Blossom remained silent, “He told me so himself just now.”
After another tense moment of silence, the lock clicked and the door cracked open.
“Is he okay? Did he make it there safely?” Blossom asked, stepping into the room. Her eyes
were red, wet streaks still visible on her cheeks. She wasted no time in accepting Ms. Keane’s
embrace, slipping into the teacher’s lap and burying herself in her arms.
“He did,” Ms. Keane spoke softly, running her fingers through Blossom’s long hair. She’d
never seen her like this before. And now, after what she’d witnessed earlier, it was even more
surreal to think that the heroine who could sink an island was just a little girl. “He said that he
met his great-grandmother, and he’s learned something incredible!”
“Really? Did he say what it was?” Buttercup asked, leaning against Ms. Keane’s side.
On her other side, Bubbles scooted closer to her, leaning against her lap.
“Can we talk to him?”

“I’m sorry, honey, but it’s almost six in the morning where he is. He’s finally getting to bed,”
Ms. Keane flashed her a beaming smile, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get a chance to say
hello the next time he calls.”
Looking down at the girl in her lap, Ms. Keane took Blossom’s crooked bow from her head,
setting it aside. She went back to caressing her hair, her heart fluttering as the little girl’s sobs
turned to coos of content.
“Do you want to talk about what happened today, Blossom?” she asked. The redhead
immediately tensed in her arms, forcing her to quickly add, “You don’t have to if you’re not
ready. But, I think you might feel better if you did.”
Before Blossom could respond, Bubbles spoke up.
“Um, Blossom? How, um, how long have you been able to go bigger?”
Ms. Keane turned to Bubbles, an eyebrow raised.
“What do you mean, Bubbles?” she asked.
Buttercup interjected, “Yeah, I was gonna ask, too. That was way more than we’re supposed
to be able to go.”
Ms. Keane looked down at Blossom, who had tensed up again. Running her hand along the
redhead’s back, it was like touching a piece of steel.
“...I think it was the first time we fought Princess,” Blossom answered, turning to face her
sisters, still safely snuggled into Ms. Keane’s lap. She only continued once the teacher’s arms
were draped around her again, “When she hurt you two, I just…it was like something inside
me broke, and it all came pouring out.” Blossom looked down at her hands, “After that I
couldn’t put it back. So…I had to pretend.”
“Girls, what are you talking about?” Ms. Keane asked, looking at each of the girls for an
explanation. The three shared a look; Blossom nodded first, the other two following.
“So, after we defeated Mojo the first time…” she began.
A few weeks had passed since the city of Townsville was saved from an invasion of
genetically enhanced super monkeys. After toppling one at the heart of the crisis, the
Professor’s old lab monkey Jojo, the girls had quickly won their way into the hearts of the
citizens. Day after day, the Utonium triplets, now affectionately dubbed the “Powerpuff
Girls,” stood up to the criminals that had all but taken over the city. In fact, if the reports were
to be believed, crime had plummeted by nearly ninety percent in less than a month.
The Professor couldn’t have been prouder of his daughters. After losing sleep worrying if he
had made the wrong decision, and wondering if the world could ever accept them, he was
proud to see how quickly they had turned things around. Yes, the Professor was proud of his
daughters, but, at the same time, he was a man of science, and with every day passing, he saw
the writing on the wall.
The girls’ powers, which seemed to already exceed anything the world had known, were
continuing to grow. They needed a safe way to test the full extent of their might, and a place
where they could learn to control themselves without risk. That need had led to the creation
of the Danger Grid. And its completion had led to the tests.
Every day after returning from school, or later if they were called to save the city, the family
conducted a series of tests in the Danger Grid, measuring the sisters’ strength, speed, and
durability, along with their vast array of superhuman abilities. It had taken some time, but
after analyzing the data, the Professor knew what had to be done.
That night, he called the girls into the lab after dinner. Seated at his desk, he puffed his pipe
and put the finishing touches on his report. Hearing the door open, he quickly filed the report
away, bringing up the notes he planned to go over.
“Is everything okay, Professor?” Blossom asked as the three landed beside him. She frowned
with concern when he didn’t immediately answer.
The Professor cleared his throat and rose to his feet. In his hand, he held a single sheet of
paper. The girls followed him until he came to a halt in front of the Danger Grid and turned to
face them.
“I’ve got the results,” he explained, gesturing to the sheet in his hand.
“Wicked! What did you find out, Professor?” Buttercup shot from the ground to his side,
trying to get a closer look.
“I’m getting there! Please, take a seat.” The Professor slid into the seat he used to monitor the
Danger Grid, waiting until the girls were comfortably sitting on the floor beside him before
continuing, “Now, according to the various tests we’ve performed these past few weeks,” the
Professor paused to take a puff from his pipe, blowing a ring of smoke into the air. He
chuckled and shook his head, “Girls, it really is incredible.”
“We know that! Tell us the juicy stuff! Who’s the strongest?” Buttercup exclaimed, grinning
at Blossom when she elbowed her.
“Buttercup! It’s not about who is the strongest, it’s about understanding the limits of our
powers so that we can behave responsibly. Right, Professor?” Blossom frowned when she
heard Bubbles giggling and noticed that Buttercup had been mouthing along with her.
“It’s…hm,” the Professor stroked his chin, pipe dangling from his lips, “It’s hard to try to use
labels like strongest when measuring your powers, Buttercup. You see, each day the tests we
performed were exponentially more extreme than the ones from the day prior. And yet, the
magnitude of the tests never seemed to slow you girls down. Not in the slightest.”
“What does that mean, Professor?” Bubbles asked.

“It means the computer couldn’t get an accurate measure of our limitations, because we never
failed any of the tests,” Blossom explained, quickly turning to glare at Buttercup. Seeing the
look on her sister’s face, the redhead tried to remain angry, but her stern glare quickly gave
way to giggles.
“That is an accurate assessment, Blossom,” the Professor nodded, “You see, girls, while I
have pages of examples of what you can do…I don’t have a single example of something you
cannot do.” the Professor tilted his head, “Well, that’s not entirely true. There is a point,
somewhere between lifting planets and reaching lightspeed, that you eventually begin to
struggle. But, that point is…“ the Professor sighed and scratched his head, “Frankly, it’s
unfathomable.”
“So, you mean...we’re all the strongest?”
The Professor smiled and set the report down, turning to the girls and leaning forward.
“That’s right, Bubbles. There’s no question about it, you three are the strongest, fastest, most
powerful little girls in the world.” Though the Professor wore a smile, his leg bounced
restlessly and his pipe shook in his mouth.
“Is something wrong, Professor?” Blossom asked, watching her father continue to fidget.
The three girls shot into the air and backed up when the Professor rose to his feet and
motioned for them to follow him back into the lab.
“This has been a lot to take in, girls,” he began. As he tried to choose his words carefully, in
the back of his mind he could picture the source that had become Chemical X. The countless
monstrosities and abominations that had come from those experiments gnawed at his
subconscious, clawing their way to the surface. With those thoughts eating away at him, the
Professor took the girls to his desk and showed them what he’d been working on.
Three rings of silver-blue Duranium, with a clear strip running along the outside. The clear
tube connected to a small dome-shape on the end, which was filled with an unmoving orange
liquid.
“Ooh, are those bracelets for us, Professor?” Bubbles asked, flying to the desk and picking up
one of them. She squeaked, dropping it back to the table, “It’s cold!”
“Yes, actually, Bubbles,” the Professor explained, lifting one of the bracelets, “After we
finished the first round of tests, I began work on these just in case. These are called X-
Stabilizing Restriction Cuffs.” The Professor gestured to the marble-sized dome and the
orange liquid within, “Inside is a concentrated form of Antidote-X. Now, don’t worry, while
it’s contained within the band, it won’t have any harmful effect on you.”
“But, it will have an effect, right?” Blossom asked, staring transfixed at the orange liquid.
She looked up when the Professor sighed.
“It will,” he admitted. The Professor took a seat at his desk, holding the bracelet out to the
girls, “The purpose of the Restrictor Cuffs is to place an artificial limit on the amount of
power that you’re able to output at any given time. The intensity of the effect can be
increased or decreased accordingly, and once they’re removed, your powers will return to
their normal resting state.”
“So what’s the point? Won’t they just make us weaker?” Buttercup pointed out, torn between
peering at the Professor and glaring at the bracelet.
“I don’t want to make you weaker, Buttercup. But, I do think that allowing your powers to
continue to grow without any limit could be dangerous. Think back to your first day of
school: just by playing a game, you caused incredible damage to the city.” The Professor
raised his hands in defense when the girls began to protest, “I know, I know you didn’t mean
to. But, girls…you did. Without realizing what you were doing. “
“You are the most powerful heroes the world has ever seen. And part of being a hero is being
responsible. I’m not saying we’re going to take your power away, it’s more like…” the
Professor swiveled his chair back to his computer. A series of rapid keystrokes brought an
image to the screen of a river, “What I hope to do with the Restrictor Cuffs is teach you how
to create your own limits.” Another series of keystrokes and a dam appeared in the river. The
area changed, now showing a reservoir towering over a city.
“You see? You won’t lose your strength, we’re just going to ease your resting power down to
a level that will allow you to protect the city, but not worry about, oh, I don’t know, blowing
down the buildings when you sneeze?” The Professor smiled when the girls giggled and held
the bracelet out again.
“Just give it a try for me, please? You’ll only have to wear it until your resting power reaches
a comfortable level. And, Heaven forbid, if you ever run into an enemy you can’t beat with
your new limits, the rest of your power will be there waiting for you.”
Blossom flew up to the Professor. After staring at the bracelet with a pensive expression, she
looked him in the eye and nodded.
“Okay, I’ll go first, Professor.”
“Thank you, Blossom.”
When the Professor fastened the bracelet around her wrist, Blossom couldn’t feel anything
different, other than how cold the bracelet was. After the Professor pressed a key on his
keyboard, that quickly changed. Blossom lurched forward, falling to her hands and knees, her
eyes wide and her chest aching as she struggled to suck in a breath.
“Blossom!”
“Are you okay?”
“Sweetie? Is everything alright?”
The redhead screwed her eyes shut and bit her lip, holding back the urge to vomit. With some
effort, she stumbled back to her feet. The room was blurring, her family’s voices were
slurring together into an unintelligible mess. Her hands flew to her mouth as her stomach
heaved. Blossom desperately scanned the room, flying at the nearest wastebasket and
throwing up.
“Honey, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, we can take it off. I must have set it too high…” the
Professor’s words were becoming clearer. Her eyes were starting to focus.
“It’s okay, Professor,” she forced out before throwing up again. She gratefully accepted a
warm rag someone was offering, wiping her face.
“What’s it feel like?”
Though she could hear the words, she couldn’t tell if it was Bubbles or Buttercup asking.
Pausing to catch her breath and wipe her mouth, she fell to her hands and knees again.
“It feels like…the whole world is pushing down on me.”
“Oh my, so that’s what those little bracelets were.” Ms. Keane had noticed the bracelets, of
course, and had noticed how the girls seemed to be acting strangely the first time they
showed up wearing them. That had passed soon enough, though, and eventually they weren’t
wearing them anymore, so she never thought to ask. “But, what happened to them? Do you
still have to wear them?”
Bubbles shook her head.
“Nuh uh, we don’t have to anymore. Because, um…” she looked expectantly at Blossom.
Taking her cue, the redhead continued where she left off.
“The Professor kept increasing the limit on the Restrictor Cuffs whenever we got used to our
new power levels. I don’t remember how many levels we went through, but eventually we
didn’t need them anymore because our powers were at a safe and comfortable level for us,”
she explained.
“Yeah…it worked too well,” Buttercup pointed out, crossing her arms, “It’s been so long, we
can’t go past the first level even if we tried.” She glanced at Blossom, grinning and giving her
sister a playful punch in the arm, “Well, me and Bubs can’t, apparently Bloss has been
holding out on us.”
Blossom pulled her knees in to her chest and stared at the floor.
“I’m sorry, I…I tried really, really hard to put it back,” she whispered, fresh tears prickling at
the corners of her eyes.
“You didn’t do anything wrong Blossom,” Ms. Keane shushed her, kissing the top of her
head, “Being able to use that power let you save the city today. That’s nothing to be ashamed
about.”
“How much have you got?” Buttercup asked, moving to sit in front of Blossom, “Like, the
water stuff, how much do you think you’ve got now?”
“Water?” Ms. Keane asked, looking at Bubbles and Blossom for clarification.
“The Professor taught us about our power using water!” Bubbles exclaimed. She jumped to
her feet and flew out of the room, returning with a glass of water, “See, the way the Professor
says, a regular person is like a drop of water. And then a superhero like Major Glory is like a
glass of water.”
“I see, and, with all of your restrictions in place…where would you girls be?”
“We’re a bucket of water!” Buttercup exclaimed, jumping to her feet and throwing her fist
up, “Way more than some stupid little glass of water!”
Ms. Keane giggled and nodded, politely asking Buttercup to sit down. She turned her
attention toward Blossom, giving her a squeeze.
“So, how much would you say you were using, Blossom?” she asked gently.
All three waited with bated breath as Blossom brought her mitt to her chin and thought about
it for a moment.
“If I had to guess, I would say...a bathtub.”
“Woah!” Buttercup gasped, in awe with a hint of envy.
“Oh wow, that’s a bunch!” Bubbles excitedly cried.
Ms. Keane was taken aback. Given the scale the girls had presented, with someone like
Major Glory being a mere glass of water, she couldn’t help but shiver just trying to imagine
what it must have been like to be on the opposite end of a fight with a Powerpuff girl who
wasn’t holding back.
“So, comparing you girls to a normal person...is like a bathtub to a drop of water?” she
murmured.
“Not…exactly.”
Ms. Keane looked down at the girls, who were staring back at her sheepishly. She turned to
Blossom, who had been the one to answer her.
“Really?”
Blossom nodded. She hugged her legs tight, staring off at the far wall. She let go of the breath
she’d been holding and a wistful smile spread across her lips.
“It’s more like comparing a raindrop to the entire ocean.”

The evening in Citiesville was as unwelcoming as any other time of day. The streets were
filled with cars blaring their horns and drivers hanging out their windows to curse at one
another. The race to escape the city before nightfall was a violent one. That particular evening
was even more of a headache, as traffic was held up by a tall monster walking in the street
without a care for the furious commuters.
Aku tucked his hands into his pockets, facing straight ahead. A growl rumbled in his throat, a
smile tugging at his lips. Drawing in a deep breath as a driver passing by leaned out his
window to call him every four-letter word he knew, Aku allowed himself to smirk. Even if
the moon were to refuse to rise, it couldn’t make the city’s darkness any deeper. The demon
casually reached out as a driver swerved closer to try to throw something at him. The soft
drink sailed past the monster’s head, while his claws dug deep into the side of the car, nearly
tearing the door from its hinges.
The monster closed his eyes and hummed with satisfaction. He had feared that the city’s evil
would have dried up, or dulled since his arrival. But, it seemed with each passing day, its
power grew as he did.
Power, Aku thought, his expression neutral once more. He looked down at his hand, his black
claws returning to fleshy green fingers. What was power? After what he’d heard earlier, he
was left with the alien feelings of doubt and wonder. Had the immeasurable ocean he once
perceived been a mere lake all along?
Crossing in front of a car, smashing the hood when the driver blared their horn at him, Aku
disappeared down one of Citiesville’s many dark alleys. This one, in particular, had caught
his eye a night before. His mouth began to water as a delightful scent flooded his nostrils,
masking the toxic air of the city. Aku followed his nose, shoving aside anyone in his way
until he found the source of the scent.
Tucked away in the corner of one of Citiesville’s least visited streets, was a little shop, with
only two tables in its seating area. The door was open, with festive, energetic music pouring
into the street. A neon sign that read “Open” was flashing on the window, next to a string of
curvy letters.
“Pizza De Ville,” Aku murmured, wiping his mouth and peering inside. There was no one
inside, save for a plump woman sitting by the register reading a novel with a scandalous title
and a muscular man wearing nothing at all on the cover. The demon stepped inside, ducking
away from a bell that jingled overhead when he crossed the threshold.
“Oh! A customer! Come in, come in, dear!” The plump woman hopped from her seat and
shuffled behind the counter. Her voice was high-pitched, but friendly, as if she were singing
every word, “What’ll you be havin’, hon? Haven’t seen you around before, are you new in
town?”
Aku was taken aback by the woman’s kindness. He glanced around, expecting to see
someone else. After confirming he was alone, he stalked over to the counter, where he
towered over the woman.
“You are correct. I flew into town just three nights ago.” Aku stroked his beard as he looked
over the menu. Everything seemed to be some kind of combination of dough, red sauce,
cheese and a variety of meats and vegetables.
“Aw, well, if no one else has, let me be the first to welcome you! I know Citiesville has a
reputation, but, oh, I guess I just can’t bring myself to move away. I grew up in town, you
know. Are you commuting or do you live in town?” If the woman had noticed his horns or
fangs, she hadn’t said a word. In fact, as she waited for his answer, she met his burning gaze
without a bit of hesitation.
Aku’s solemn expression softened, a small smile reaching his lips.
“I suppose you could say that I have taken residence within the city.” Aku turned back to the
menu. The scent was becoming overwhelming.
“I’m sure you’ll learn to love it! It’s no Townsville, but there’s an honesty around here that is
just so refreshing! Now, will you be eating in or is this to go?”
Aku looked around the room, then back at the woman.
“You…have no objections to my presence?” he asked, one eyebrow craned. He was caught

off guard yet again when the woman laughed.
“Oh, honey, you’re not the first monster I’ve seen. Long as you behave yourself and try the
cheesy bread, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”
Aku’s ears perked up. Cheese bread? Clearing his throat, the demon took a moment to settle
his excitement, lest his disguise fail him.
“Yes! Delicious cheese bread sounds delightful! Now, tell me, what of this pizza? What is
your recommendation?” though he tried to keep his expression neutral, his eyes raced
through the ingredients listed on the menu.
The woman laughed and hopped from her stool. Stepping around the counter, she led Aku the
very short distance to one of the incredibly small tables and pulled his chair out for him.
“Never had pizza before? Well, you’re in for a treat, hon. I may not be good for much, but I
bake a pie that would make the devil himself blush.” After Aku took his seat, she shuffled
toward the kitchen, “We’ll start you off with the classic pepperoni. Would you like thin,
normal, or extra thick crust?”
Aku blinked, looking down at the menu on the table. He was once again bombarded with the
delicious scent from the kitchen.
“What do you recommend?”
“Extra thick it is! Let me get that started and get the cheesy bread out for you, hon.” With
that, the woman disappeared into the kitchen.
Aku looked around the room, peering out the windows at the streets. From here, he almost
couldn’t smell the stench of rot and decay in the city. With the jovial music playing from the
tired old radio on the counter, he almost couldn’t hear the screams of suffering. Aku looked
up when the woman returned, setting a glass filled with fizzy brown liquid on the table.
“Drink is included, holler if you need a refill, or help yourself!” Once again, she disappeared
into the back.
The demon grasped the tall, red glass and brought it to his face. The fizzy liquid smelled
sugary and sweet, but unlike anything he’d had before. With a shrug he took a sip. Aku’s eyes
snapped open and that sip became a long drag that drained the entire glass.
“Ah ha ha ha!” Aku cackled as he downed another slice of pizza, this one covered in various
meats. Finishing it in one bite, the demon licked his fingers clean, sitting back in his seat and
resting his hands on his stomach, “Madame Devil, your culinary skills are second to none!”
The plump woman, Odessia Deville, giggling, taking away the five empty pizza trays from
the demon’s table.
“Oh, Mr. Ku, you are just too kind! I swear, I’ve never seen anyone eat so much, not even my
son!” she hurried back to the kitchen to deposit the trays. When she returned, she found Aku
rising from his seat, “Oh, dear, are you finally heading out?”
The demon stretched his arms, his long fingers pressing against the low roof. With a content
sigh, he nodded, fishing a stolen wallet from his pocket and dumping all of the cash within
on the table.
“Yes, while I wish I could remain here to sample more of your unparalleled cooking, I must
be getting back to work.” Aku drained the last of his soda and set the glass down on the table.
Smothering a burp he paused at the door, “Rest assured, Madame Devil, when this city lies in
ashes at my feet, your establishment alone shall survive the reckoning that is to come!”
“You’re just saying that,” Ms. Deville returned to the register, counting the bills and
depositing them, “Honey, I think you overpaid, here, here, take your change,” She cocked her
head in confusion when the monster waved his hand dismissively.
“It is all yours! You, who have treated the great and terrible Aku to a meal unlike any other.
You have my thanks, Madame Devil.” Aku turned back to the door, “I shall return in the very
near future to dine with you once more!”
Ms. Deville looked down at the wad of cash still in her hand. With a shrug, she shoved the
rest of it into the register tray.
“Come back whenever you like, Mr. Ku! Have a wonderful night, hon!”
Aku returned the woman’s wave, a giant grin on his face, his arms swinging at his sides as he
strolled down the street. Before long, he found himself whistling in time with the police
sirens at the crosswalk. He shoved his way through a crowd of drunk college students, their
protests not slowing him in the slightest.
“Such incredible delicacies this new world has to offer!” Aku sighed, rubbing his stomach
once more, “What else have I been blind to?” the demon paused at the crowded entrance to a
bar. Growing a few inches taller, he peered past the crowd and into the establishment. He
reared back when assaulted with an unpleasant mixture of sweat, alcohol, unbridled lust,
sorrow, and aggression.
Though the darkness filled him with strength, he found himself longing for the savory scent
of pizza once more. Returning to his normal height, he pushed his way through the crowd to
continue his nightly stroll.
“Hey watch it pal!” A rough voice called after him. A rough hand grabbed onto his arm.
Aku’s eyes snapped open, their irises burning red. A pulse of hatred surged outward from his
core and before he could stop himself, he lashed out, his fingers becoming claws that tore
through the man’s muscular arm like tissue paper. His vision stained red by the haze within
and the spray of blood from the man’s new stump, Aku turned away and resumed his stroll, a
trail of bloody footprints in his wake.
The screams of pain and cries of help assaulted his ears, filling him with a rush of energy.
The demon clenched his fists, rolling his head back as power surged through him. He opened
his eyes, his sharp-toothed grin replaced by a frown.
How easily his joy had been stolen by fury. Such was the nature of humans.
Fighting against a scowl, Aku found himself once more dwelling on the conversation he’d
heard between the Powerpuff Girls and their teacher. He looked down at his blood-soaked
hand, willing his darklight into sight.
Yet another day had passed and his power had grown by a considerable amount. Had it grown
enough, though, he wondered? Turning his gaze skyward, he imagined himself as a spill of
oil spreading through the sea. Though the havoc it wreaked was terrible, it, like a glass or
bucket of water, was nothing before the ocean itself.
As he imagined the ocean, he pictured her. Wrapped in black, her tiny body overshadowing
the very Earth itself. There was no denying it now, especially after hearing the Red Child’s
admission. She was the dark figure from his dream. She was the future that lay before him.
She was changing, absorbing the hateful flames to which he had exposed her. But, with the
Morebucks girl defeated, what chance did he have to continue her evolution?
Perhaps, if he were to unleash the absolute full extent of the power he had gained, he could
stand against the Red Child. But, knowing that the strength she had displayed earlier was
only a warning, he couldn’t risk it. Not until knowing that she was his.
Aku sat down at a bus stop, steepling his fingers and staring at his feet.
He needed another way to expose her to more of his darkness. Closing his eyes, he let his
hold on the present fade, expanding his mind until it encompassed both Citiesville and
Townsville. Surely there was something he had missed. Some…
“Mojo, Fuzzy, the Rowdyruff Boys, Aku”
Aku’s eyes snapped open, his head turning toward Townsville. He knew of two of the names
she had listed, but what of the last? The Rowdyruff Boys…the name was quite similar to
their own, was it not? His vision focused on Townsville, seeking a power that resembled the
Powerpuff Girls.
The demon rose to his feet, a smirk on his lips. The air around him blackened and a swirl of
darkness erupted behind him. With a laugh, he let it draw him in, leaving behind an empty
street and a bloody bus stop.
The Eastside of Townsville was quite unlike the rest of town. Like a shadow cast by the city
proper, situated in the shadow of the Townsville Prison and just across the river from
Citiesville, the Eastside was a breeding ground for criminal activity and debauchery. Over the
years, the more explicit activities had gone further underground to avoid drawing the
attention of the Powerpuff Girls. But, when the sun set and the rest of Townsville settled into
a peaceful night’s sleep, the Eastside came alive.
Roving groups of drunk high schoolers and college coeds made their way from bar to
nightclub. Liquor poured by the gallon and raucous music kept the rest of the area awake
until the early hours of the morning. Despite its proximity to the prison, patrol cars avoided
the Eastside like a plague once the sun went down, content to bury their heads than deal with
the city’s unsightly underbelly. It was the Eastside of Townsville where three of the city’s
most dangerous criminals had taken up residence.
If the Powerpuff Girls were seen as the patron defenders of Townsville, the Rowdyruff Boys
were viewed as a cancer on the Eastside. No one could challenge their destructive brand of
entertainment, and no one dared to try. Thankfully, the boys were equal parts uncreative as
they were disruptive, so their games seldom escalated beyond vandalism and petty theft.
When they weren’t wandering the streets looking for a fight or tormenting their neighbors,
the boys took refuge in an abandoned warehouse stuffed full of stolen toys, furniture and
appliances.
That night, they were safely tucked away in their warehouse, smashing goods they’d stolen
earlier, while the television blared a sports game to which none of them were paying
attention. Standing at opposite ends of the loading area, Brick narrowed his eyes. At the other
end, Boomer held a bat of crackling yellow energy ready, his normally vacant eyes focused
and his tongue poking from his mouth.
“Hey batter, batter, batter! Swing, swing. SWING ALREADY!” Butch taunted from behind
Boomer, jittering with excitement, “Brick throw it already! C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!” he
shouted across the room.
“Shut it! I’m gonna!” Brick yelled back, digging his mitt into the side of a busted refrigerator
and lifting it like a ball. Rearing back, Brick roared as he hurled the appliance with all his
might at his idiot brother.
“Swing Boomer! Swing! Swing!” Butch urged him, pointing at the refrigerator, “C’mon
idiot, swing!”
Boomer blinked and looked at his brother, cocking his head to the side.
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“SWING ALREADY!” Butch and Brick shouted in unison. Their voices echoed around the
warehouse, causing the walls to shake.
“Oh, why didn’t you say so!” Boomer turned and, in one fluid motion, shifted his stance,
raised his bat, and hit the refrigerator dead on, sending it crashing into the opposite wall.
Boomer threw his bat down, throwing his arms up, “Home Run! Woo!”
Brick’s cocky grin became a scowl as he glared at the remains of the refrigerator. With a
growl, he flew over to his brother, socking him across the face.
“That’s not a home run, you idiot! That’s a foul ball!” he insisted, shoving his mitt toward the
indentation the appliance left in the wall, “See? It’s out of bounds!”
Boomer brought his hand to his mouth and stared at the wall.
“It doesn’t look out of bounds to me,” he pointed out, earning him another punch, this one
from Butch on his other side.
“It totally is, dumb nuts!” Butch punched him again, “Idiot!”
“Oh, oops, my bad. Can I have another turn?” Boomer asked, another energy bat appearing in
his mitts.
“Nah, I’m bored now.” Brick huffed, crossing his arms.
“Oh! Oh, oh, oh! Let’s uh...well, uh, what do you wanna do, Brick?” Butch asked, flying
around to his brother’s side, “We could go see one of the bands!”
Brick scowled, “Nah, they’re all trash.”
Butch laughed. His eye twitched, causing his head to jerk to the side.
“Haha, yeah they’re terrible. Let’s go ruin their shows then! Y-y’know, after we uh, listen for
a bit to make sure they suck,” Butch’s eye twitched again, a hopeful grin on his face.
“That sounds lame…” Brick replied with a dismissive wave. He turned to make his way back
to the blaring television, but before he could take more than a step, the lights in the
warehouse began to flicker, before going out entirely when a titanic shadow fell over the
Rowdyruff Boys.
“Woah, you’re, uh...the, uh...that guy!” Boomer said, pointing at the monster towering over
them.
“So, you are the so-called Rowdyruff Boys, hm?” Aku put his fingers to his chin, leaning
in close and observing the trio with a critical eye. He leaned back when the red one took a
swing at him.
“You! You’re that monster that beat the Powerpuff Girls!” Brick laughed, a cocky grin on his
face as he leered at the monster, “You ain’t so scary.” The redhead elbowed Butch, and jerked
his mitt toward Aku, “Guy must’ve gotten lucky, right?”
“Hahaha! Yeah, totally got lucky!” Butch laughed. His eye twitched and he turned to Brick
with a wild grin on his face, “Let’s clobber this nerd! C’mon, c’mon, c’mon Brick! Let’s do
it! Let’s DO IT!” Butch’s entire body was twitching, a manic look in his eyes when he turned
to face Aku again.
Aku chuckled, turning to the last brother. He was taken aback when the blue boy simply
waved at him.
“Erm, yes. Yes! I am the Shogun of Sorrow. The Deliverer of Darkness. The Master of
Masters,” the demon spread his arms wide, rising up until his form filled the warehouse,
looming over the superpowered boys, “Do you truly wish to challenge the eternal,
unbeatable Aku? Do you think you can succeed where this city’s defenders failed so
miserably?”
“Let’s get him!” The three boys shouted in unison, shooting from the ground and straight at
him.
The demon made no effort to avoid their strikes. His searing gaze followed them as they
peppered his body with a ballistic barrage of battering blows. When the blue boy appeared
near his face, Aku brought his massive hand up and swatted him aside, sending him crashing
into the concrete. Raising an eyebrow, Aku turned his attention to the others.
They were strong, of that there was no doubt. But, there was something missing. As the red-
haired boy unleashed an explosive heat ray into Aku’s chest, he realized what it was. Though
he was able to easily power through the Powerpuff Girls’ attacks, even in their weakened
state the heat rays from the Blue Child had caused his skin to sizzle. The Green Child’s speed
had required his fullest attention to follow.
Yes, while these Rowdyruff Boys possessed power and speed that could drown the heroes of
old, and could perhaps challenge the girls with their powers held back, he was disappointed
to realize that for all their bluster, they were mere buckets in a storm.
Aku leaned back from a strike and fixed his gaze on the green boy. His eyes lit up and
unleashed his own blistering heat rays. The moment the beams hit the ground, the concrete
erupted in an explosion that filled the air with dust. The demon’s eyes widened, caught off
guard by the sight of the green boy still standing, a sphere of shimmering green light around
him.
“So, there is more to you Rowdyruff Boys than I at first believed!” Aku laughed, his arm
transforming into a massive blade, blocking a strike from the blue boy’s crackling yellow bat.
His grin grew as he pushed the boy to the ground. It tingled, but it was far too weak. The
demon reared back, turning his fist into a colossal hammer. With a laugh, he smashed the two
boys into the ground, leaving them both beaten in the dirt.
Aku’s hand shot up, catching a blow from the red-haired boy. His fists were glowing a
blazing red, giving off heat that would have incinerated a lesser being. Aku slammed him into
the ground beside his brothers. Folding his arms behind his back, he leaned down until his
face was right above the crater he’d left them in.
“Do not be disappointed, children. You could not hope to compare to the almighty Aku.
However…” Aku’s eyes narrowed as he grinned, “I might have a use for you.”
“P-P-Piss off, Pops!” Brick growled, pulling himself from his Rowdyruff shaped hole in the
ground. He grunted when Aku flicked him back into his hole.
“Do not be foolish, boy! Listen to my offer before consigning yourself to the silence of
death.” Aku rose back up, his eyes burning as he let his darklight shine.
“Wh-what d'you mean?” Boomer asked, sitting up and holding his head.
“We ain’t doing it!” Brick shouted, sitting up once again, “The Rowdyruff Boys don’t work
for no one!”
“Y-y-yeah!” Butch forced himself up. He started to stand up, but a puff of air from Aku sent
all three of them crashing back down.
Boomer coughed and glanced over to his brothers.
“Uh, dudes? He, uh, he beat the Powerpuff Girls. Maybe we should, um…listen?”
“Shut it, idiot. We don’t need this lame old monster to beat those sissies!” Brick remained in
his hole, glaring at the ceiling. His face was bright red, his lips pulled back in a snarl. His
body shook with fury.
“Surely you saw the display of the Powerpuff girl today, did you not? She made short
work of the Morebucks girl, even with the power of Aku at her disposal.” Aku explained,
holding up his hand. A swirl of darkness appeared above his palm, growing until it resembled
a theater screen. Within the darkness, images appeared, showing the fight between Blossom
and Princess Morebucks from earlier in the day.
The boys watched the scene play out. At first, they were excited to see the way that the
heroine was thrashed by the rich girl. Their excitement quickly turned to terror when
Blossom turned the fight around. As the beatdown that followed continued, the Rowdyruff
Boys traded a look.
“Dude…” Butch muttered. He shook his head, his eye twitching, “Y’you mean they been
going easy on us?”
“Bullshit!” Brick roared, the ground around him exploding as he stood up. Heat radiated from
his body, his teeth gnashing and his face burned. There was no way those stupid, loser, sissy
girls had been holding back. There was no way they were that strong.
“You wish to challenge the Powerpuff Girls, do you not? You wish to be the, how did
you put it? The baddest?” Aku leaned down, crushing the vision in his hand, “As you are
now, there is no hope for you to ever cross the gulf between you.”
“That’s a load of shit!” Brick spat in his face, “We’re tougher, stronger, faster, and better than
those stupid, goody-goody, sissy-ass sissies!” Brick froze, his mouth falling open when his
idiot brother spoke up.
“So why do we keep losin’ then?” Boomer asked, sitting up and slouched over.
“Shut it, Boomer! Shut your stupid, idiot, moron mouth!” Brick snarled and glared down at
his hands. The heat around his body began to concentrate in his arms, causing them to burn
the same shade of red as his eyes. His voice cracked as he gathered more and more power.
The concrete around him began to sizzle and blacken. His head was pounding; his jaw was
starting to hurt.
With a scream he threw a punch with absolutely all of his strength at the monster. Gasping to
catch his breath, he stared, wide-eyed at the demon’s unmoved chest. Tilting his gaze upward,
his anger turned to steam as a chill ran down his spine.
With a single finger, Aku pushed him back to the ground.
“You have the potential for greatness, but you are incomplete, inferior designs to your
heroic nemeses. I can give you that which you are lacking.” Aku held out his hand, three
burning flames of hatred, each a shade to match one of the Rowdyruff Boys, appeared in his
palm.
“Woah.”
Brick’s furious glare jumped from Aku, to the flames, then to his brothers. His scowl
darkened when he saw Boomer nodding his head. His immediate rejection caught in his
throat when Butch shrugged.
“Wh…” Brick cleared his throat and stared at the floor, “So, if we do it, um…what’s the
catch?”
Aku smirked for a brief moment, before reducing himself to a less imposing size. The three
flames of hatred floated in the air, slowly rotating around his body.
“You shall be given the power of Aku. With this, you will become more than you could
ever be on your own. But,” Aku raised his hand, lifting three fingers, “This gift I offer
comes with three stipulations. First, you will follow the instructions given to you by the
great and powerful Aku, without fail.”
“Second, though you shall be granted unparalleled power, do not be mistaken, even
with this gift, should you immediately face the Powerpuff Girls, you shall fail.”
“What!?” The three boys shouted, taking up defensive stances. When Aku narrowed his eyes,
they relaxed once more.
Butch crossed his arms.
“So what’s the point then?” he scoffed. He smirked when he noticed Brick nodding.
“You will fight them in due time. But, first you must grow your power by fanning these
flames of hate. To that end, you shall challenge them...in a manner of speaking.” Aku
chuckled, stroking his beard. The flames seemed to grow as the light in the room dimmed
further.
“One...two...uh, so is that it?” Boomer asked.
“He said three, idiot. What’s the last rule?” Brick’s voice had grown much quieter.
“This power shall not last forever. Though the flames may grow stronger, they shall, in
time, be snuffed out, and you shall return to how you are now. Weak and incomplete.”
Aku looked away with a coy smirk, “That is…unless you fulfill your duty to Aku. If you
do, I shall grant you this power forevermore.”
Brick looked down at his fist. It was still throbbing from the blow he’d thrown at Aku. A
punch which had done absolutely nothing to the demon. He hated to admit it, but he felt a
chill just picturing the look of rage and hatred on his counterpart’s face. His face screwed up.
He felt sick to his stomach knowing that all along, she had been holding back.
“What do we gotta do?”
Looking up, he found himself nose to nose with the demon. He swallowed nervously as the
demon’s grin grew.
“That which is asked of you.”
The Rowdyruff leader looked at his brothers. Boomer was, as always, spaced out and barely
paying attention. Butch, on the other hand, was looking back at him. Though his brother’s
eye was twitching, the look in his eyes was anything but manic. Taking a deep breath, Brick
turned to Aku and nodded.
The windows of the warehouse exploded. A dark tricolored rainbow of light poured out as
three boys’ screams echoed through the streets of the Eastside, lost in the cacophony of
pounding music and thumping nightclubs.
Cracking Under Pressure
Chapter Summary
The morning after discovering the truth behind his ancestor, the Professor learns more
about his cousin. Pokey Oaks Kindergarten gets three new students who quickly cause
trouble for the class's star student.
It was just past noon when the Professor entered the dining room of the cozy old cabin. As if
in a trance, he poured himself a cup of coffee and took a seat at the table. After two long sips,
his eyes fell to his coffee mug and his thoughts were lost to the bitter black brew.
It was after five in the morning when he finally finished reading Imagawa-kensei’s, or rather,
Samurai Jack’s story. He had only slept a couple hours before waking to the same questions
that had plagued him as he tried to fall asleep. If his ancestor’s words were true, and he had
no reason to doubt they were, then the truth was far more fantastic than he had ever imagined.
Stranded in a distant future ruled by the demon for over fifty years, living under the name
Jack, he had overcome trials that would have astounded his girls, let alone the entire world.
“Hey, you’re finally up,” a groggy voice greeted him.
The Professor looked up, his fatigue momentarily stunted by the sight before him. Despite
her age and stature, the young woman commanded an intimidating presence. But, without her
makeup and wearing a pair of blue pajamas with ducks on them, he couldn’t help a short
chuckle before returning to his coffee. He waited until she’d joined him before speaking.
“I could say the same to you. I took you for the early morning type,” he teased while hiding
his smile behind another sip of his coffee.
Michiko groaned, holding her head in one hand while she nursed her own coffee in the other.
“I’m really not, no matter how hard Hiiobaasan tries,” she said with a yawn.
The two sat in silence for several minutes. The hostility that Michiko displayed the day
before seemed to have vanished overnight. She was the one who finally spoke first.
“She gave you the scroll, huh?”
“She did,” the Professor nodded, “I’ve heard the story a hundred times before, but I never
imagined that the truth would be so much more unbelievable. And to think, it was Aku’s own
daughter that helped Jack return.”
Michiko took a suspiciously long drink of her coffee, her eyes fixed on a spot at the far
corner of the room.
“She’s named after her, you know.”
“Hm? Who do you mean?” the Professor asked, head tilted in confusion.
Michiko nodded toward the door.
“Hiiobaasan. Aku’s daughter, and Imagawa-kensei’s lost wife, was named Ashi.” Michiko
drew in a shaky breath, pushing her coffee away and letting her head fall back, staring at the
ceiling, “Even though the story is only meant for the next sword-bearer, she told it to me the
first night I stayed with her. She…she said that Ashi-sama is proof that…sometimes good can
come from evil.”
The Professor’s eyes widened, the pieces clicking into place. It had been Aku’s own daughter
that had led to his defeat, and the salvation of the entire world. He bit his lip and fixed his
eyes on his coffee, fighting the emotions welling up inside of him.
“They’re just like her.”
The Professor’s defenses cracked, allowing a single tear to slip through. He’d made the
connection immediately, but to hear Michiko say it was another thing entirely.
“You mentioned that before,” the Professor cleared his throat, quickly changing the subject.
He almost wished he hadn’t, but the words were coming before he could stop them, “But, you
didn’t say why. How, um, how did you come to live here?”
The Professor winced, quickly shaking his head.
“I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”
Michiko rose from the table, moving to the counter and fumbling in the drawer. To his
surprise, she returned with a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Lighting one for herself, she
offered him one. He felt compelled to accept it, even if he could imagine the girls’
disapproving glares.
A halo of smoke filled the air above the two and, after a shaking breath, Michiko began.
“I’ve been living with Hiiobaasan for fifteen years. My mother, she was around your age, I
think, she didn’t have a very glamorous job. She worked at one of the offices in town. It was
a dead-end job for her. No room for advancement, no opportunity to transfer.” Michiko took a
drag from her cigarette, “That is, until one of her supervisors came to her with an offer. She
was tired of working for nothing, and she couldn’t just quit. So, she took the opportunity.”
The Professor remained silent, peering past Michiko at the photographs along the wall. His
eyes landed on one of a woman with a little girl.
“He had money and connections, and, at the time, it seemed like the best thing to do.
Eventually, though, I came along to fuck everything up.” Michiko paused to glance over her
shoulder, toward the backdoor. Snuffing out her cigarette butt, she lit another and continued,
“He didn’t want a kid, but he figured if it was a son it might be worth the hassle,” Michiko
clicked her tongue and cast a bitter look at the Professor, “Well, no such luck. As soon as he
knew, he left.”
“I’m sorry, Michiko-san,” the Professor began to reply, only to stop when Michiko
interrupted him with a nasty, joyless laugh.
“I wish the sad part of the story was the part where my so-called father walked out. The man
was a complete bastard. After ghosting her, he had her fired without warning. Not even so
much as a goodbye or an explanation. Just, cut her out of his life completely. Well…”
Michiko’s grip on her coffee became deathlike, her knuckles white, “Not completely.”
“Somehow, my mom managed to get by. She started working whatever odd jobs she could
get, doing anything she had to to feed the fussy baby back home. She had…” Michiko’s
words caught in her throat, sadness overtaking the anger for the first time since she began,
“She’d managed to save enough money by some miracle to get us out of that shithole.”
“What about your grandparents? Surely they could have helped, couldn’t they?” the Professor
immediately regretted asking when he found himself on the receiving end of the darkest glare
he’d ever seen.
“Her mother passed away when she was in middle school. Her father never liked Hiiobaasan.
He thought all of the stories about Imagawa-kensei were nonsense. He just wanted to be done
with the headache. So, once she graduated, he kicked her out and remarried.” Michiko
drained the rest of her coffee, setting the mug back on the table with enough force to shake it,
”He almost let her back in, when she was set to marry my father. When that blew up, that was
it…she never heard from him again.”
“Michiko-san…”
Michiko laughed bitterly. Though she kept her head low, the Professor could see that she was
crying.
“Remember when I said my father didn’t cut us off completely? Well, it turns out, his
connections weren’t exactly above board.” Michiko’s cigarette had burnt down to the quick,
untouched in her hand. She snuffed it out angrily, “One night when I was three years old, we
heard a knock at the door. Mom…I guess she just knew something was off, so she told me to
hide. Sitting alone in a dark closet, I…” Michiko’s voice hitched. She bit her lip and shook
her head when the Professor started to get up.
“They were talking about my father screwing them over on something, I didn’t understand
enough to know what they meant. They asked where I was, my mother said I was with my
grandparents. Then they…they killed her, like it was just another day in the office for them.”
Her fingers shaking, Michiko pulled another cigarette from the pack, taking a long drag until
she began coughing. She wiped her eyes and leaned back again, staring at the smoke
overhead.
“I was so afraid, I didn’t leave my hiding place until the neighbor who watched me when my
mother was working came over. He called the police, and they found me. I hadn’t eaten in
days and I couldn’t speak when they tried to question me. They went looking for someone to
take me in. The neighbor couldn’t, he was too old. My father had made sure his name didn’t
show up and my grandfather hung up as soon as he heard the call was about my mother.”
For the first time, Michiko smiled.
“Even though we’d never spoken, and I didn’t even know she existed, Hiiobaasan showed up
and offered to take me in. When we got back here, I still wasn’t speaking and I wasn’t eating.
She never forced me. We’d just sit here at dinner without saying a word. Then, one night, she
said she was going to tell me a story. That’s when she read Imagawa-kensei’s story to me.
And at the end, she told me…” Michiko snuffed out her cigarette and got up, going to refill
her coffee, “She said, see, Michiko-chan? You see, sometimes good can come from evil,” her
voice cracked, the coffee pot shaking in her hand, “Despite all that’s happened, you were
born and you’re here with me now.”
Moving without a hint of hesitation, the Professor rose from the table and crossed the room.
Wrapping her in his arms, he held her tight.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
At first, her arms hung at her sides, hands clenched into fists. Her body shook; her shoulders
sagged. Trembling, her arms snaked around his waist, returning the embrace.
Class at Pokey Oaks Kindergarten was at a peaceful calm. The morning lesson had gone well,
and Ms. Keane was happy to see that her star student was back in form, practically bouncing
in her seat to answer the first question of the day. Perhaps overcorrecting for her silence the
day before, Blossom hadn’t been content to answer her usual tough questions. At the very
least, Ms. Keane appreciated that she was giving her classmates at least a few seconds to
answer before butting in. She knew she’d need to get the redhead under control, but after
yesterday she was willing to let her overzealous participation go unchecked for one day.
With math out of the way, the class had moved on to begin working on their Special Person
project. Ms. Keane was at her desk, grading the previous night’s homework, peeking up
every so often to ensure that the students were staying busy.
At the Powerpuff Girls’ table, the new assignment had ignited a fresh fire under the triplets.
Bubbles had taken to the new assignment with the sort of excitement that was more common
for her studious sister. Her third of the desk was filled with paper, stencils, crayons, glitter
and glue. As she worked, she hummed to herself, rocking her head in time with her song.
At the other end, Buttercup was staring at a blank sheet of paper. She glanced in Bubbles’
direction and groaned.
“Man, why is this so easy for you?” she mumbled in a subsonic tone.
Bubbles silently giggled.

“Because its fun! Are you gonna use the Professor, too?” she asked.
Buttercup pursed her lips and shook her head.
“You already picked the Professor? Ugh! Now if I pick him, then everyone’ll just think that
I’m copying you. So not fair,” Buttercup grumbled. Her eyes drifted to Blossom, surprised to
see that the redhead hadn’t made any progress either, “You okay, Bloss? Did you wanna pick
the Professor, too?”
Blossom furrowed her brow, tapping her pencil on the first line. Just like Buttercup, she’d
considered choosing the Professor, but Bubbles had quickly snatched him up. While she was
sure that Ms. Keane wouldn’t dock them any points if they all picked their dad, the thought of
competing with Bubbles’ project was an idea she wasn’t thrilled about. School was usually
her time to shine, but she’d be the first to admit that the blonde had a better eye for art.
“I dunno,” Blossom admitted. She glanced to her left, meeting Buttercup’s gaze. Her mouth
fell open a bit when her raven-haired sister smiled and turned away, finally writing something
on her sheet. Blossom’s eyes snapped back to her blank page.
For a moment, she considered her sisters. Bubbles could always make her smile even when
she was at her lowest. At the same time, she could always be honest with and rely on
Buttercup. Either one of them could be her special person, but how was she supposed to pick
just one? Whoever she didn’t pick would have her feelings hurt, and just the idea of betraying
either of them caused a pit to form in her stomach. No, she definitely needed to pick someone
else.
A sharp knock at the door broke the spell on the class, drawing their attention to the front of
the building. Ms. Keane seemed just as confused as the students as she hurried to the door.
Cracking it open, she let out an audible groan. Ever a professional, she quickly caught herself
and offered the gruff man on the other side a polite smile.
“Oh, it’s…you. Ahem, how can I help you, Officer Wednesday?” Ms. Keane’s jaw hurt from
forcing a smile, especially when the man made no effort to fake pleasantries.
The gruff truant officer glanced to his side—whomever he was looking at was blocked by the
door—and cleared his throat. Though it was normal for him to be stiff, the man seemed more
on edge than usual. His shoulders were tense beneath his tattered, patchy trench coat.
“Um, yes, right. Ms. Keane, I’m here with new students that will be joining your class
starting today,” Officer Wednesday’s eyes darted between Ms. Keane’s face, whomever was
on the other end of the door, and the teacher’s visible hand, “What students you may be
asking? Students in desperate need of your assistance. That assistance being your expertise in
teaching children with exceptional capabilities. And by exceptional capabilities, I, of course,
mean super powers. Super powers that need to be,” the officer flinched away from whomever
was beside him, “Monitored carefully…”
Ms. Keane’s polite smile waned. Raising an eyebrow, she started to pull the door open, but
the officer’s hand snaked out, catching the knob to keep her from opening it further.
“Officer, what do you mean? You have super-powered…children…” Ms. Keane trailed off as
the realization dawned on her.
“That’s right, children with whom your students are well-acquainted. And by students, I am
referring to the Powerpuff Girls. It is the presence of the Powerpuff Girls that makes you the
best teacher equipped to teach these boys.” Officer Wednesday swallowed nervously. Though
his expression was severe as always, he was sweating.
“So, now that you understand the situation, I’m leaving them in your care. They are in
desperate need of an education, and as one of the city’s…finest…educators, you are the one
best equipped to provide them with that education. They’re your problem now.” Without
another word, the officer released the doorknob and beat a hasty retreat, hurrying to his car
and peeling out of the parking lot and off down the street.
The door swung the rest of the way open, confirming Ms. Keane’s fears: the Rowdyruff
Boys. While she didn’t make a habit of getting up close and personal with Townsville’s most
dangerous ruffians, something about the look in the boys’ eyes seemed different to her.
“Um, hello there, boys. So, you’re going to be our new students?” She asked, looking around
to make sure this wasn’t some kind of prank. Judging by the cloud of dust still kicked up
from Officer Wednesday’s retreat, that was becoming increasingly unlikely.
“That’s right, lady! We wanna learn, so teach us!” Brick sneered.
“Yeah! You gotta teach us, we wanna learn!” Butch agreed. While he was still jittery, the
normally manic look was absent and his eyes seemed more focused.
“Uh, please?” Boomer added with a sheepish shrug.
Ms. Keane sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“I have got to report that man at the next union meeting…” clearing her throat, she motioned
for the boys to head inside, “Alright then, let’s introduce you to your new classmates and find
seats for you.”
To her surprise the boys walked into the room, waiting at the front until she joined them. A
dull roar of whispers quickly spread through the class like a wildfire.
“Class, I’m sorry to interrupt, I know you’re all working very hard on your projects, but,
well, apparently we have new students. I’m sure you’ve all seen them around town before,
but boys, I’d like you to go ahead and introduce yourselves.” Ms. Keane met the Powerpuff
Girls’ incredulous stares with a helpless shrug.
“Hi, I’m Boomer!” the blond said, waving to the class. Without a warning, his brother
punched him in the face, causing his head to jerk to the side but leaving the rest of him
unmoved.
“Hey, idiot! I’m the leader, I get to go first!” Brick snapped. Clearing his throat and adjusting
his hat, Brick turned to the class, crossing his arms, “What’s up, losers? Name’s Brick, the
strongest, baddest guy in Townsville!” as he spoke, Brick glared across the room, his eyes
boring into Blossom’s.
Ms. Keane laughed nervously, rubbing her arm.
“Thank you, Brick. Now um, just so you know, I don’t allow fighting in the classroom.” she
chastised. She flinched when Brick scoffed and turned to face her.
“That wasn’t a fight. Boomer knows he can’t beat me.” Brick pointed out, shoving his mitt in
Boomer’s direction.
The blond boy lifted his head upright.
“Uh, yeah, we don’t fight,” he agreed with a laugh.
Ms. Keane took a deep breath and let it out.
“I understand. Let me be clear, you are not to hit anyone, even your brother, while you are in
my school. Do you understand?” Though she spoke with a stern tone, resting her hands on
her hips and narrowing her eyes for added emphasis, inside she was praying that the girls
would be fast enough if her ploy didn’t work.
Brick narrowed his eyes, but turned away, glaring at the floor.
“Yeah, fine, whatever.”
Ms. Keane released the breath she’d been holding and threw the girls a hopeful look.
“Alright then, now would you like to introduce yourself, Boom-”
Before she could continue, Brick cut her off.
“It’s Butch’s turn! Boomer always goes last!” he barked.
Ms. Keane’s fear was quickly turning to irritation. And that irritation was quickly becoming a
headache. With a defeated sigh, she threw her arms up and returned to her desk.
“Just introduce yourselves so we can get back to work.”
Getting the nod from Brick, Butch threw his arms into the air with a loud whoop.
“Hey! I’m Butch! The Baron of Berserk! The toughest guy around!” Butch’s grin grew wider,
his entire body jittering as he bounced in place. His eyes darted back and forth around the
room, always returning to one of the Powerpuff Girls.
Brick turned to Boomer.
“Alright, your turn, moron.”
Boomer shrugged and waved to the class.

“Hi, I’m Boomer!” the blond said with a vacuous smile on his face. He scanned the
classroom, waving at any of the students who waved back. When he reached the Powerpuff
Girls, he waved harder, still smiling even when the girls glared back at him.
At her desk, Ms. Keane spoke up quickly to prevent any further interruptions.
“Alright boys, so let’s have you sit…” looking around the room, she realized that there
wasn’t a free table. There were a few free seats, but she didn’t feel right sticking any of her
regular children with a Rowdyruff boy at their table. Ms. Keane rose to her feet and clapped
her hands, “Actually, everyone pick up your belongings, we’re going to shuffle things
around!”
After shuffling the children around to free up a table for the Rowdyruff Boys—putting the
boys at the center of the room so both Ms. Keane and the girls could keep an eye on them—
the class moved on to their next lesson. Recess was just around the corner, and the inclusion
of the rowdy little troublemakers meant that it was unlikely the class would be able to really
focus. With a sigh, Ms. Keane adjusted her notes for the day’s history lesson.
“Alright, as everyone knows, we’ll be having a history test at the end of the week. To prepare
for that, we’re going to do a little review. Doesn’t that sound fun?” While most of the room
was unimpressed with her introduction, she was thrilled to see Blossom nodding furiously at
the back. This was the distraction they both needed, she thought with a giggle.
“Okay! So, let’s begin with an easy question. Who was the first president of the United States
of America?”
Before she’d even finished saying “president”, a mitt shot up at the back of the room. Per the
rules of their usual game, Ms. Keane scanned the room, pretending to not see the redhead,
“Does anyone know the answer?” The mitt began to wave back and forth slightly, “Anyone?
Would it help if I gave you all a hint?” The mitt rose up a bit higher, waving more frantically.
Ms. Keane gave an exaggerated sigh and placed her hands on her hips.
“Come now, class. I thought we talked about this? Someone other than Blossom needs to
participate.” She nearly broke, hearing the very faint chant of “Me, me, me” coming from the
back of the room. Shaking her head, Ms. Keane turned with a smile, “Yes, Blossom, do you
know the answer?”
“Of course! It’s-”
“Frank Columbo!” Brick shouted out, cutting Blossom off.
“What?!” Blossom cried out incredulously, “No! It’s George Washington!”
Brick turned to Blossom with a mocking shrug, while Butch laughed beside him.
“Oh, oops, my bad!” he sneered.
Ms. Keane cleared her throat, doing what she could to take control of the situation.
“That’s right, Blossom, thank you. Brick, the rule in class is that you need to be called on
before you can answer a question. If you know the answer, please raise your hand and wait
until I call on you. Is that understood?” Ms. Keane flinched when the Rowdyruff leader
turned toward her. There was a darkness in his eyes that she hadn’t noticed before.
“Sure thing, teach.”
Blossom returned to her seat, clenching her mitts in her lap. There was a prickling sensation
running up her back. She jumped, feeling a hand on her arm. She turned to Bubbles and
flashed her a smile, though it quickly faded.
“So, here’s the next question. Who was the first European explorer to land in North
America?”
Blossom’s frown quickly turned to a grin, her hand shooting up so fast that she jumped to her
feet, leaning against the desk and waving her mitt. Her heart raced when Ms. Keane began to
look in her direction. She fought back a giggle when the teacher intentionally turned to the
other end of the room, asking if anyone knew the answer.
“Me, me, me, me, me!” she whispered, her lips moving without her knowing. The table was
starting to shake beneath her weight, and when Ms. Keane continued to dodge her, she lifted
herself up into the air a bit more. “Pleeeeeease, pick me!”
Her stomach did a flip and rush of excitement like sinking into a warm bath washed over her
when Ms. Keane finally looked her way.
“Blossom, would you like to tell us the answer?”
She couldn’t stop herself from giggling. She loved hearing those words so much.
“I would! The answer is Leif-”
Like a toaster being dropped in a bathtub, a snide voice caused the prickling in her back to
become a searing white hot pain.
“Marty Mcfly!” Brick shouted out.
“No! That’s not right! It’s Leif Eriksson!” Blossom shot back. A tremble ran through her
body; her ears were ringing and her face was hot with frustration. It wasn’t until she felt
Buttercup tugging on her wrist that she realized she was a foot above their desk.
The redhead tore her eyes away from Brick, but not before seeing him and his brother
laughing at her again. Her chest was burning. Her hand flew to her cheek to wipe away the
blood that wasn’t there. She could hear the low rumble of Buttercup or Bubbles, she wasn’t
sure which, saying something, but she couldn’t make it out over the ringing in her ears.
Screwing her lips shut, she focused her watery gaze on Ms. Keane. Straining her hearing, she
listened for the next question.
“On what date and time was the Trinity Test of the Manhattan Project conducted?”
A clap of wind collided with the ceiling, causing the roof to shake and the pencils and papers
to be sent flying from the Powerpuff Girls’ desk when Blossom’s hand shot up. She stared
helplessly at Ms. Keane, silently mouthing “Pick me, pick me, pick me,” over and over again.
The edge of her vision pulsed with heat. For a moment, she let herself feel hopeful when Ms.
Keane put her fingers to her chin and finally locked eyes with her. Her lips curled upward
into a smile.
“Go ahead, Blossom. What’s the answer?”
Blossom didn’t waste any time, practically shouting the answer.
“Five-thirty on July 16th-”
“Last Monday!”
This time, his words crashed through her like a baseball to a window. The haze on the edge of
her vision overwhelmed her senses, drowning the room in red and filling her head with a
shrieking, dissonant whistle.
“STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT! THIS ISN’T FUN IF YOU AREN’T ACTUALLY TRYING
TO GET IT RIGHT!” she screamed, bringing her fist flying down. The ground beneath her
burst and a shockwave erupted through the classroom, blowing the other students from their
seats.
The dust slowly settled, and with it the red faded from Blossom’s eyes. She was breathing in
short, raspy gasps, tears streaming down her face. As the room came back into vision, her
gaze drifted to her table. Her hands flew to her mouth and her eyes widened in horror at the
sight of the splintered scraps that remained. The floor had been split open, a crater the size of
a basketball at her feet.
The first thing she heard was the Rowdyruff boys mocking laughter. Her heart seized in her
chest and tearing pain shot up her arms and legs. The red haze was starting to close in on her
vision again. The next thing she heard was their voices.
“Bloss, hey, it’s alright! It was his fault! He’s being a-”
“Don’t worry! We can get another table! We get a new roof every-”
The whistle was starting up again, trying to drown out their voices. The red haze was
spreading from the corners of her vision through her body where it settled like a heavy
weight in her stomach. She could feel hot, angry tears spilling down her cheeks and could
faintly hear her own gasping sobs. Screwing her eyes shut, Blossom fought to make her
mouth work.
“I need to be excused!”
Without waiting for a response, not knowing if she’d even hear one, Blossom tore from the
room in a tornado of classroom supplies.
In the bathroom, the Powerpuff leader had locked herself away in one of the stalls, curled up
as tight as she could, arms wrapped around her knees while her entire body shook from
sobbing. Her mitts crept into her hair, moving to cover her ears. The whistle was piercing
through her, she couldn’t see past the red, her skin was on fire, and it felt like she was being
torn apart from the inside. Her breath caught in her throat in a squeak when she heard
knocking on the stall door.
“Blossom? It’s me, can I come in?” Bubbles’ voice was faint, nearly drowned by the whistle
screeching in her ears.
“Uh huh,” Blossom replied, nodding furiously. She jumped when she felt her sister’s cool
mitts on her searing skin. At first, she refused her embrace, but when Bubbles pressed her
cheek against hers, she could almost think through the pain.
“I’m sorry, Blossom,” Bubbles whispered, her own voice thick with tears, “I’m so sorry, I
should have done something.”
Blossom shook her head. What little resistance she’d managed to build crumbled and she
gave into burying herself in Bubbles’ embrace. Just being close to her seemed to dull the fire
and deafen the whistle in her head. For the longest time, they stayed like that: Bubbles
holding her while she sobbed.
When she found her voice again, a fresh cold terror swept over her.
“Everyone hates me. Ms. Keane hates me! I broke everything!” Her words were strained and
slurred together. The whistle was getting louder once more and the red was setting in.
“Nuh uh, we love you, Blossom,” Bubbles assured her, tugging Blossom into her lap to hold
her even tighter. “It’s not your fault.” Gently rocking her sister back and forth, the blonde felt
a tremor of fury run through herself, hearing the boys’ mocking laughter in her head, “It’s not
your fault, Blossom.”
Brick cackled as he stepped out into the playground. After sending the others to recess, Ms.
Keane had held him behind to lecture him about useless crap like fairness and being
considerate to others’ feelings. He’d nodded along and said he’d do better, but the truth was
he spent the entire time picturing Blossom crying.
“Hey man! Hey, hey Brick! Brick, dude that was sick!” Butch called, rushing over to his
brother, Boomer in tow.
“Yeah, you really made her cry, huh?” Boomer put his mitt to his chin, brow furrowed in
concentration, “That was so cool though, I didn’t know you knew all that stuff.”
“What are you talking about, idiot? I was just making stuff up!” Brick leaned against Butch
to hold himself up as the pair continued laughing.
“Oh, ha! I knew that!” Boomer laughed, scratching his head.

A blast of wind blew Butch and Boomer back several steps, an instant before a crash and the
sound of stone cracking rang out across the playground. The younger students stopped what
they were doing to watch while keeping a safe distance from the fight.
Buttercup snarled as she shoved Brick against the side of the school, one hand on his collar
while the other was pulled back into a shaking fist.
To his credit, Brick seemed unafraid as he glared back at her.
“Leggo, sissy. Didn’t you hear the teach? No fightin’ in school!” he jeered. He choked on his
next words when Buttercup’s grip tightened.
“Shut your stupid freaking face, scumbag,” Buttercup hissed. The air around her crackled
with jade electricity, a thin outline of green light outlining her body, “If you ever pull this
crap again, I don’t care what the rules say, I’m gonna pound you until Mojo won't recognize
you!”
“Oh c’mon!” Brick laughed, “What, am I ruining the fun for you too?”
“None of this is fun for me!” Buttercup shot back, “I already know all the answers cuz I’ve
done this two times already!”
Brick growled as Buttercup’s hold on his throat became painful. He sucked in air through his
teeth, but was finding it harder to breathe.
“Then why do you care!?” Spittle trickled down Brick’s lips. His hands shot up, grabbing
Buttercup’s wrist. No matter how he tugged, he couldn’t make her arm budge.
The crackling light around Buttercup intensified.
“Because I love my sister, you idiot!” She snapped, “Blossom still has fun answering
questions and crap, even though she’s way too smart to be stuck in here! So, I’m not going to
let you ruin that for her!” With a grunt, Buttercup threw Brick down, leaving behind a trench
as he skid across the concrete. She threw a glare at his brothers, who flinched away and took
up defensive stances. Marching over to Brick, Buttercup stood over him, mitt thrust out at
him.
“If you ever make Blossom cry again, it’ll be the last thing you ever do.” With one last glare
at the other Rowdyruff boys, Buttercup stormed away, going back inside.
“Bro, you alright?” Butch asked, offering a hand to help Brick up, “You shoulda used the
dude’s power to clobber her.”
Growling, Brick swatted his brother’s hand away and sat up. His eyes darkened as he glared
at the door to the classroom. He couldn’t stop shaking.
He was using Aku’s power the entire time.

Ms. Keane sat at her desk, eyes scanning the room. It was nearing the end of the day, and,
thankfully, the outburst during history had proven to be the last major event of the day. That
said, it had taken its toll on the classroom atmosphere.
Blossom kept her head down, refusing to answer any more questions. She didn’t even pretend
to be busy, hands in her lap, a blank sheet of paper in front of her. All of the teacher’s
attempts to get her attention or coax a response from her had fallen on deaf ears.
Though she couldn’t condone her methods, Buttercup’s threat against the Rowdyruff Boys
worked. They didn’t participate, but the boys kept to themselves. Their disruptions were little
more than just talking a bit too loudly when they should be paying attention, and refusing to
do the work she put in front of them.
Well, refusing wasn’t quite right. Boomer had a pencil in his hand and seemed to at least be
trying to pay attention. That said, it was clear from his responses that he had no clue what
was going on and Ms. Keane was fairly certain he didn’t know how to read or write. Brick
was the cleverest of the three and, if he weren’t determined to be a pain in the butt, could
have been a good student. Unfortunately, his willful disobedience not only affected him, but
also Butch, who followed whatever lead Brick made.
When the clock struck three, Ms. Keane breathed a sigh of relief. As she was seeing the rest
of the students off, she tried to ask the Rowdyruff Boys if they had a guardian coming to pick
them up, but they just laughed her off.
“We don’t need a guard! We’re the roughest, toughest guys around!” Brick had laughed,
“You’re funny, teach, see ya tomorrow.”
“Hahaha! Yeah, real funny! Later teach!” Butch chimed in, taking off after his brother.
“Oh, Boomer?” Ms. Keane called, catching the blue-eyed Rowdyruff boy’s attention.
“Uhh, yeah?” he asked with the usual amount of confusion he displayed at everything.
“Boomer, I’m a bit concerned. Just so I know how to prepare a study plan for you, do you,
um…do you know how to read?” Ms. Keane smiled sheepishly. She knew how often his
brothers insulted him and called him names and didn’t want to imply she thought he was
dumb.
Boomer laughed and scratched his hair.
“Uh, I know some of the letters,” he admitted.
“That’s…what I thought. Alright, don’t you worry. We’ll get you caught up with your
classmates,” she assured him.
“Oh, cool, I guess? Uh, bye!”
Ms. Keane watched the dark blue streak disappear over the horizon. Tapping her chin, she
turned toward the classroom. When her eyes landed on Blossom, an idea began to formulate
and a smile spread across her lips.
“Those MISERABLE, ROTTEN, WORTHLESS CHILDREN” Aku hissed through his
teeth, clutching the frozen flames framing the vision of the Rowdyruff Boys leaving the
school. The image quickly swooped inside, focusing on the Red Child. Once the room was
clear of her classmates, the meager defenses she had managed to build failed her, and she
began to cry once again.
Aku clutched his chest, every sob like a needle driven through his very core. Though he
could feel his anger bubbling over, he couldn’t help but wonder why. The boys had done
exactly as he had asked of them. They had interacted with the Powerpuff Girls and had taken
steps to stoke the flames of anger and hatred in the Red Child. And yet, as his plan unfolded
exactly as it was meant to, he felt no satisfaction. Just overwhelming, incinerating anger.
Tearing himself away from the image, Aku surged from one side of the Pit of Hate to the
other, his claws clasping restlessly at his sides. With a growl, his form shifted and changed,
becoming a great, long dragon with a massive, gaping maw.
“What is becoming of me?” He wondered aloud as he breathed flames into the darkness of
the Pit. As he pondered that question, he turned back to the image, which was now replaying
the confrontation between the boys and the Green Child. While he’d only had the Red Child
in mind when he warned the Rowdyruff Boys of the limits of their power, the brief display
from her sister had proven him correct. Even with the flames of hatred, in their incomplete
state the boys were no match for the girls. If the Blue Child could match the power displayed
by the Green Child, they wouldn’t even need the flood of strength their leader possessed to
end his minions.
Aku's head snapped upward, drawing in a deep breath of air from the City of Evil above. His
muscles expanded and his eyes burned brighter. Shapeshifting again, Aku became a feral cat
with vicious claws and menacing eyes. Stalking the Pit, he continued to drink in the
intoxicating negativity from above. It was enough to grow his power, that was true. But, what
had once been a banquet of toxicity had grown stale.
“I will give them new orders,” Aku mumbled, returning to his demon form. Stroking his
beard, his eyes burning and his vision drowning in red, he snarled “But, first…yes, that is
the problem.” He recalled the feeling of blood dripping from his claws from the night
before. A growl rumbled in his throat. Rising up to the exit, a malicious, sharp-toothed grin
spread across his lips.
At the Utonium household, the girls were curled up on the couch with Ms. Keane, watching
their favorite show and discussing the day’s events. Blossom was snuggled up against the
teacher’s side, her eyelids heavy. The conversation around her drifted in and out, intermixing
with the noise from the television.
“What do you call a puppet with two left feet?”
“I know it was frustrating, but I’m proud of you girls. Things will be better tomorrow, I
promise.” Ms. Keane’s voice was uncharacteristically weary.
“This summer, Major Glory is returning to the big screen!”
“-yeah, I’m sorry. I just…I got so mad and wanted to do something.”
Blossom blinked and sat up when she felt someone grasp her hand. She flashed Buttercup a
sleepy smile and squeezed her hand back. Laying her head against Ms. Keane’s side once
more, her eyelids continued to drift closed.
“Bonk on the head.”
“Did you figure out your special person, Buttercup?”
“Oh, uh, yeah…but I wanna keep it a secret right now..”
“Dial M for Monkey!”
Slumping forward, Blossom’s cheek lightly plopped onto Ms. Keane’s lap. She practically
purred when someone began to rub her back. Her lips curling into a smile, Blossom snuggled
into the warm darkness enveloping her. The sounds around her began to fade away. The last
thing she heard before sleep took her was a soothing voice whispering, “Sweet dreams,
honey.”
The streets of Citiesville were never quiet at night. A constant cacophony of stray dogs
barking, police sirens, and roving bands of drunks made up a bittersweet symphony until the
sun rose again over the city. The Westside, the area of the city along the river that separated
them from Townsville, was considered a particularly dangerous part of an already dangerous
town. Since the destruction of the bridge three years prior, the edge of town had fallen on
hard times. And hard times led to desperate measures.
Along the riverside, a deal was taking place. A sickly thin man with a thick gray beard sat on
an unmarked crate, drinking wine from a paper bag. His head swiveled as he scanned the area
with his tired old eyes. Glancing at the watch hanging from his wrist, he blew out a breath
and smacked his lips.
“Assholes,” he muttered, “Making an old man wait like this.” He went to take another swig
from his bottle, but was disappointed to find it empty. With a sigh, he tossed the paper bag
into the river, “And now I’m sober.”
The old man turned toward the underpass, squinting into the dark. He’d been drinking since
noon, so his vision wasn’t the sharpest, but he could have sworn he saw something move.
Thinking it might be his business partner, he slid to his feet and stumbled into the dark.
“That you, Mic?”
The City of Townsville was drowning in a downpour of freezing black rain. She’d been
walking for what seemed like hours and the water had risen enough to get in her shoes.
Ignoring her soggy tights and squishy steps, she stepped into the wasteland that was once
Downtown. The mechanical monster was gone, but the great black tree remained. Though it
rose up above the clouds, its branches sagged from the rain, their delicious red fruit dangling
from a thread over her.
The old man drew closer, leaning forward and tilting his head. He could hear a sound, like
metal scraping against metal. Smacking his lips again, he reached into his jacket and took out
a handgun. Holding it out, the barrel shook as much as the man’s hands.
“Mic, that you? If it ain’t, you better get out of here. I’m waiting for someone,” he called into
the dark. Hearing the scraping behind him, he jumped and turned toward the sound, firing off
a shot. In the brief flash of the muzzle, he saw a flash of red. He tumbled back several steps,
his mouth hanging open.
The creature stepped into the light, it’s body draped in shadows. Its piercing scarlet eyes
stood out against its sickly green skin. Hearing the scraping sound again, he looked at the
creature’s left arm. While it stood well over six feet tall, its arm was unnaturally long.
Blacker than the dark, the obsidian razors in place of its fingers reached all the way to the
ground, sparks flying as they scraped along the concrete.
She tried to fly, but the black water lapping at her ankles weighed her down too much to
leave the ground. Instead, she held out her hands, beckoning the branches to come closer.
Movement caught her eye, drawing it to the trunk of the tree. A dark form slithered through
the black limbs, closing in on her. Her eyes widened as the serpent leaned out from the
shadows, its fiery eyes locked with hers.
She lightly touched her cheek. She smiled and the serpent smiled back.
“Wh-what kind of monster are you?! G-get back!” The Man fired off two more shots. The
first sailed harmlessly into the air, but the second struck the creature in the chest. Black ooze
began to pour from the wound. The creature looked down at it, then looked back up at the
man.
The creature was grinning from ear to ear.
Without another sound, it shot forward, swinging its impossible claws with supernatural
speed. The old man managed to throw his arms up in defense, but a white-hot pain and a
sudden lightness caused his breath to catch in his throat. A spray of blood colored the
concrete. The creature opened its mouth, unraveling a long red tongue. It growled as it licked
the blood from its claws.
The old man screamed, staring at the ribbons of flesh that remained of his arms. He tried to
run, but slipped and tumbled face first to the ground, into a pool of his own blood.
Whimpering, he looked up at the creature. It was still grinning.
“Run,” it hissed, venom dripping from its words.
The man couldn’t catch his breath enough to scream, nor could he find a way to climb to his
feet. Instead, he rolled onto his side and pushed himself forward, trying to crawl away.
Hearing the claws scraping against the ground again, a hysteric, guttural moan escaped his
lips. It cut off abruptly as the claws pierced his lower back with enough force to split the
concrete beneath him.
“Too slow,” the creature jeered, ripping its claws free from the man’s body, “Run.”
The man tried to move, but could only roll back and forth very slightly. He cried in pain
when the creature rolled him onto his back with its foot. The creature’s red eyes were like
dying suns.
She offered no resistance when the serpent began to coil around her. No, she welcomed its
strong embrace. As it pinned her arms to her sides and gave her a squeeze, she responded
with an airy, delighted squeak. The serpent’s cold skin smothered the heat that had scorched
her, and held her together when she felt like she was coming apart. Its piercing eyes gazed
into hers like dying suns. She couldn’t look away, but found she didn’t want to. The serpent
tilted its head upward.
Following its gaze, she could see that they were rising, getting closer to the red fruit.
The first slash tore through his throat, rendering him unable to scream. As he choked on his
own blood, he could only watch as the creature took another swing at him. The creature’s
movements blurred as it sliced through him again and again. Its grin continued to grow as its
eyes burned darker.
Fading fast, the man coughed up a mouthful of blood. The creature leaned forward, bringing
one of its claws right in front of his eye. He tried to beg for some kind of mercy. But the
hateful look in the creature’s eyes told him all he needed to know.
It had no mercy.
The fruit was so very close now. As she opened her mouth to take a bite, the serpent lashed
out, sinking its fangs into her cheek. Her eyes grew wide, the pink of her irises swirling with
red. She could feel its venom reaching the tips of her mitts and feet. She could feel it flooding
her chest and causing her heart to swell.
What had once hurt so much, had become intoxicating.
She never wanted it to end.

Swept into the Deep
Chapter Summary
The Professor finally learns what he must do and the challenges that lie before him. Aku
changes his plans for the Rowdyruff Boys, who decide to turn up the mischief they're
causing at school. That evening, Blossom finds herself somewhere she shouldn't be, and
meets someone she didn't expect.
“So, about this test…”
The Professor peered up at the mountain, once again mesmerized by its majestic sheen, a halo
of sunlight sparkling against its silhouette. A warm breeze stirred the leaves from the trees,
whistling by the pair making their way to the modest shrine. His question hung in the air,
answered only by their footsteps against the stone path. It wasn’t until they stopped that
Michiko finally responded.
“The sword doesn’t answer to just anyone. Sure, once it’s drawn, it’s a blade like any other.
But, it only reveals its true self to a wielder pure of heart and clear of mind,” she recited,
having surely heard that explanation countless times before. Taking the sword from its stand,
she held it out, gripping the hilt. Closing her eyes, she drew in a long breath.
The sword rattled, but refused to leave its sheathe when she tried to tug it free.
Disappointment painted her features, along with solemn resignation in her eyes. Releasing
the breath she’d taken, she held the sword out to him.
“Give it a try, Joichi-san.”
The Professor’s entire body shook as he took the sword in both hands. Though it was
remarkably light, an immeasurable weight settled on his shoulders. Slowly, he lifted the
sword until it was parallel with his body, mirroring the way that she had held it moments
before. His fingers trembled as he wrapped them around the hilt. Glancing at Michiko for
permission, his stomach did a flip when she nodded. Drawing in a deep breath, he closed his
eyes and pulled.
Just as it had for Michiko, the sword rattled and refused him.
“The sword knows your uncertainty. It also knows that it does not belong in such hands,” The
pair looked up at the sound of Ashina’s voice, spotting the smiling old woman strolling
leisurely down the mountain path. She quickly reached them, offering the Professor her cane,
“If you would, Joichi-chan, please hold this for me.”
The Professor wordlessly nodded, taking the cane and handing the weapon over to its
mistress. His breath caught in his throat as she effortlessly unsheathed the sword, its blade
glittering in the sunlight, outlined in a nearly imperceptible divine light.
With practiced grace, Ashina gave the sword a few swings, eyes shut and a nostalgic smile on
her face. Her movements were like a stream, flowing with immaculate precision that defied
her age. Bringing it to rest in front of her, she peered at the two through the blade’s edge.
Meeting her gaze, the Professor felt that weight lift from his shoulders. The impossible tales
from Imagawa-kensei’s story flashed through his mind in an instant. He knew, though it was
impossible, somehow he knew that he was looking into the same eyes that Aku had seen in
his final moments.
“Hiiobaasan,” He breathed the word without thinking, his cheeks flushing when her serious
expression vanished and she began to laugh.
With one final slice through the air, Ashina ran the blade along the sheath before slipping it
once more inside.
“I apologize for my absence yesterday.” Ashina bowed politely, returning the sword to its
stand, “I wanted to make the journey once before sending you ahead. Unfortunately, at my
age, it takes longer than I would have liked.” She took her cane back, thanking the Professor.
Taking a seat on the bench, she beckoned the pair to join her.
“The journey?” the Professor asked.
Ashina turned to Michiko.
“Michiko-chan, you did not tell him?” she asked. Despite her question, she seemed
unsurprised.
“We, um…” Michiko ran her hand through her hair, refusing to look at either of them, “We
talked so much, it just never came up.”
Ashina patted the young woman’s knee.
“I understand, you’ve a lifetime of catching up to do. It’s alright, dear. It is only right that I be
the one to pass it along. After all, it could be the last time I tell it.”
“Hiiobaasan, don’t say that,” Michiko took her hand, holding it in a desperate grip. She
relaxed when the old woman began to laugh.
“Oh dear, please do not fret. I don’t mean it in that way. No,” Ashina turned to the Professor
and settled her free hand on his, “I mean, if Joichi-chan is successful, it will become his story
to tell.”
The Professor smiled, but it wavered and his worried gaze turned to Michiko.
“Oh, but…Michiko-san is going to be your successor, is she not?”

Michiko shook her head.
“I’ve tried, but I’ve never been able to complete the test,” Leaning forward, she rested her
chin on her fists, “I’m not that petty, Joichi-san. You need the sword to defeat Aku. If you can
make the journey, then I’ll hand it over to you myself.”
The Professor sighed in relief, nodding his head and mouthing a thank you.
Taking that as her queue, Ashina cleared her throat.
“In his journeys, Imagawa-kensei’s worthiness to wield the blade of evil’s bane was tested on
more than one occasion. So far had he fallen, that for fifty years the sword abandoned him,
waiting until the day came when he could once again wield it,” Ashina nodded toward the
shrine, “To prevent its power from being used for petty things such as war or conquest, the
sword decided at Imagawa-kensei’s passing that it would only allow those deemed worthy to
wield it. The first was the Samurai’s son, who proved himself by completing the Journey.”
Ashina pointed to the mountain with her cane.
“Anyone who seeks the sword’s strength must journey to the summit of the mountain.
Reaching the peak, they will discover the Truth and, with it, the right to wield the sword.”
The Professor stroked his chin, gazing up at the mountain. Truth be told, since arriving he
had attempted to find out exactly which mountain it was. His research had turned up nothing.
In fact, the deeper he looked the more confused he became. All geographic records indicated
that there shouldn’t be a mountain at that location.
“Don’t be fooled,” Michiko spoke up, interrupting his train of thought, “Not just anyone can
climb the mountain. It’s a mystical place with a path that changes and spirits along the way
that challenge anyone who climbs past a certain point. If there are any regrets, doubts,
insecurities in your heart…you won’t make it far.” Her voice softened as she continued, until
it became little more than a whisper.
“I see…that explains why I couldn’t find out anything about it. How long does the journey
take?” the Professor asked, turning to his grandmother.
Ashina tilted her head, stroking her chin in a way that reminded him of Blossom.
“I believe the first time took me just shy of three days. Mind you, I was only eight-years-old
at that time. In my twenties and thirties, I could make it to the summit and back in an
afternoon,” she chuckled.
The Professor nodded. He was no spring chicken himself and if an eighteen-year-old in high
health and good shape like Michiko couldn’t make the trek, it was hard to imagine he could
pull it off, and certainly not in an afternoon.
“No doubts, regrets, insecurities…it’s hard to believe that anyone could make the trip.”
“Not anyone can,” Ashina explained, “To wield a power like the blade of evil’s bane, your
heart must be pure, your mind clear. These things: doubt, regret, envy, pride, anger, and
hatred, they are all paths that allow evil inside. They are antithetical to true righteousness.”
Michiko nodded, her eyes narrowed and her mouth in a firm line.
“The spirits on the mountain throw everything at you. Nothing is too much or off-limits when
they’re testing you. They’ll confront you with things you didn’t know about yourself,” she
pointed out. As she spoke, a shiver ran through her, causing her to wrap her arms around her
middle.
“It’s not the spirits that stand in your way, Michiko-chan,” Ashina rested her hand on
Michiko’s shoulder, “They hold no ill will toward you. No, what you face when you climb
the mountain is yourself.” The old woman turned to her grandson. “Are you prepared to face
yourself, Joichi-chan?”
The Professor turned from her to the mountain. He could already feel doubt creeping in and
he could practically feel his sins crawling on his back. Rising to his feet, he returned to the
sword’s shrine. Instead of the weapon, his eyes fell on the photograph that Ashina had left
there. They were counting on him. For perhaps the first time, they needed him more than he
needed them. With so much on the line, it wasn’t a question of whether he could do it.
“No, but, I will anyway,” he replied with a nervous laugh.
The early morning sun poured in through the empty warehouse windows, glittering off the
broken glass that the residents had yet to, and likely never would, clean. Snores echoed from
every angle of the work floor, ruining the otherwise peaceful morning. While the warehouse
inhabitants slumbered, a shadow appeared to block out the sunlight. His flaming eyes narrow
and an irate frown on his lips, Aku gazed down at the sleeping ruffians.
“Such ignorance. Sleeping soundly, unaware of the doom that has befallen you.” Aku
mused. Clearing his throat, he leaned over the makeshift living area and bellowed, “ARISE
MY MINIONS!”
His voice boomed, drowning out the surprised screams of his targets. The demon chuckled,
leering at the blond and red-haired boys glaring at him. Before he could open his mouth to
speak again, the snoring resumed. His face fell and, along with the two brothers, he turned to
look at the one who had refused to wake.
Butch was sprawled out over the arm of the boys’ ratty, stolen couch, drool dripping from his
lips and down his face like a leaking faucet. He continued to sleep even when Aku plucked
him from his perch.
Raising the boy to his eye level, Aku narrowed his eyes and drew in a deep breath.
“ARISE! MY! MINION!” The force of his shout blew Butch out of his shirt and sent him
crashing to the ground, skidding along on his head until he hit the opposite wall. The flames
in Aku’s eyes shrunk to crackling embers, his mouth falling open when the boy continued to
sleep.
“Dude, that’s not gonna work,” Brick pointed out.
Aku turned to the Rowdyruff leader and sheepishly folded his arms behind his back.
He cleared his throat again before speaking, “Ahem, well, wake him then, boy. There is
much the great Aku must discuss with you.”
Brick allowed himself a cocky smirk, refusing to look away until Aku noticed. Satisfied, he
looked over his shoulder.
“Hey! Butch, let’s get breakfast!”
A streak of green tore from the dented side of the building, landing between his brothers
“YEAH! Breakfast! BREAKFAST! I want BURRITOS!” Butch shouted, pumping his arm
and chanting “Burritos” When no one responded, he lowered his arms and looked at his
brothers. Following their line of sight, he peered up at Aku, sucking his tongue back into his
mouth.
“Oh, it’s you.” He turned to Brick and his eye twitched, “Does this mean no breakfast?”
Brick waved his mitt dismissively, “Nah we’re totally getting breakfast burritos once this guy
is done yapping.”
Butch threw his hands into the air again, chanting “Burritos” once more.
“Uh, can we, like, help you?” Boomer asked, unfazed by the piercing glare that had etched
itself onto Aku’s face.
Brick turned back to Aku, crossing his arms defiantly.
“Hey yeah, what do you want? It’s way too early to deal with-”
“INSOLENT CHILDREN!” Aku roared, the force from his voice slamming into the boys
and knocking them to the ground. He lurched forward, digging his claws into the concrete on
either side of them. His eyes were blazing and his lips were pulled back in a feral growl.
“W-woah, ch-chill man,” Brick murmured, turning his head when Aku’s scorching breath
crashed into them.
“Yeah, like, chill!” Butch’s eye twitched when Aku leaned in closer, growling.
“You do not know your place, miserable little whelps.” Aku rose up to his full height, his
horns scraping noisily against the metal roof, “What did you think you were doing? I
asked you to expose the Powerpuff Girls to my power, not get yourselves destroyed!”
Brick shot to his feet, fearlessly thrusting his mitt at the demon.
“What the hell, man? You told us to piss her off! You were all ‘Go forth and stoke the flames
of whatever in the Red Child,’ So that’s what we did!” Crossing his arms, Brick growled,
“What’s the point?! You saw it, right? Even with your stupid power, we can’t beat them! So
what’s the point!?”
The demon was impressed when the little boy refused to back down. Folding his arms behind
his back, he loomed over them, unblinking.
“I wish to take my revenge upon this wretched world. I will see these humans suffer and
their cities burned. To that end, I have use of the Powerpuff Girls.” Aku waited until
Brick finally looked away before continuing, “The source of their power, this Chemical X,
was made from the essence of the almighty Aku.”
Boomer, who hadn’t been paying attention, snapped to attention.
“Woah, so you’re like…our dad?”
“What?! Do not be foolish, boy!” Aku reared back in disgust. “The essence of Aku is but
one piece of the substance that is Chemical X. But, it is from this essence that the
Powerpuff Girls draw their immense power.” The demon stroked his beard, a sinister
smirk on his face, ”Yes…I have seen that the Red Child has been affected by the power
of Aku. To enact my revenge upon these worthless humans, I shall steal away their
greatest heroes and remake them in my WICKED IMAGE!”
“Why her?” Brick shouted back, his face hot. His fists clenched and shook at his sides. The
memory of her crying flashed in his head for a moment, before being replaced by the sight of
her lips approaching his face and a blinding pain ripping him apart. “What’s so freaking
special about Blossom? She’s just a prissy, know-it-all, goody-goody sissy!”.
Before Brick had even finished, the boys noticed the air in the room growing hotter. Metal
cracked and bent, the paint peeled away, and sweat began to pour down their bodies. Gazing
up at Aku, they could no longer see his face. He had become a silhouette of darkness deeper
than black, broken only by his all-consuming, fiery eyes. Looking up, Brick saw that the
demon’s hand was above them, his claws trembling.
“You will watch your tongue, boy.” Aku’s voice was eerily quiet, but every word felt like a
weight pressing against the Rowdyruffs, “I will have the Red Child, and through her, my
hatred will reduce this world of light to ashes.”
His claws froze just inches from Brick’s face. The air in the room returned to normal, and
with it the boys were once again able to see Aku. The demon turned away from them, hand
rising to his thumping chest.
“Alright, chill, whatever.” Though he tried to sound confident, Brick couldn’t mask the fear
in his voice, “So what do we do now?”
“Continue to interact with them,” Aku hissed through clenched teeth, “Your power will
grow each day until you can challenge them, but do not be stupid and get yourselves
killed before that day arrives.”
Without waiting for a response, Aku summoned a portal of darkness and vanished, leaving
the Rowdyruffs staring at the spot where he’d stood, the concrete burnt black and crumbling.
“Dude,” Butch murmured, scratching his head.
Brick closed his eyes and lowered his head. Her face flashed in his mind. She wasn’t better
than him. What made her so special?
The atmosphere in the classroom was like a blanket of steel, draped over the students to
smother any attempts at normalcy or enthusiasm. Even Ms. Keane’s best efforts to bolster
their morale had fallen on deaf ears, transitioning from a tense roll call to an ominous English
lesson. While the source of the tension could be easily attributed to the snickering trio of
troublemakers who had arrived late, a more trained eye would notice that the darkness
permeating the classroom came not from the center but the back of the room.
Keeping her head low, Blossom stared at her mitts oblivious to the stuttering, uneasy speech
of the classmate reading the current passage of the book they’d chosen. Any other day of the
week, the urge to help would have been overwhelming and earned her at least an annoyed
glare from Buttercup or a giggling shush from Bubbles. Instead, her lips curled into a frown
and her throat tightened. There was electricity running through her arms, but it refused to
reach her heart, leaving her in joyless silence.
“Pbbt!”
Blossom’s lips twitched, resisting the urge to stretch into a snarl. As heavy as the fog in her
head was, the ringing in her ears couldn’t drown out their disrespectful interruptions. They
were few and far enough between to avoid drawing attention to themselves, but every sound
and the subsequent hushed giggles around the room was like a pair of cymbals crashing at the
center of her head.
“Th-Th-Th…Th-The, p-p-p,”
Blossom’s lips moved soundlessly, “The puppy was afraid and wanted to find her boy.”
The tiny voice continued to struggle, voice cracking as another fart sound cut them off and
caused the class to giggle. Ms. Keane looked up from her copy of the book with a glare,
shushing the class, training the full intensity of her stern glare on the three boys at the center
of the mischief.
“Puh…puh…puppy,”
“Yes, that’s right! You can do it, Henry!”
Blossom screwed her eyes shut, tilting forward. Her hands slipped into her hair, as if to
compress the throbbing between her ears.
“The puppy was afraid and wanted to find her boy,” she silently recited again, repeating it
like a chant in the hopes that Henry would hear her.
“Pbbt!”
A scorching heat radiated outward from her chest, dowsing her very thoughts in red. She felt
a gentle mitt on her knee and was suddenly aware that her leg was bouncing. Blossom didn’t
dare open her eyes or even turn to her sister. The surge of energy racing through her veins
was too strong, and even through her eyelids she could visualize the hastily repaired concrete
beneath the desk. Sucking in a hiss of air through her clenched teeth, the grip on her head
tightened and her leg began to bounce again.
Her fists had never felt so heavy.
“Pbbt!”
“Cut it out!” It was Buttercup who finally snapped, jumping to her feet and hurtling a green
rubber eraser at the trio, conking Butch on the side of the head.
“We ain’t doing anything!” Brick shot back, jumping to his feet and turning to the heroine
with a cruel, knowing smirk on his face.
Butch quickly leaped to his feet, mirroring his brother.
“Yeah, we’re trying to listen, so hush!” The brothers both laughed when Buttercup settled in
response.
“You keep making noises! Knock it off!” Buttercup prepared to launch herself at the boys,
but halted when a pair of hands grabbed her shoulders. Turning toward Bubbles, she relented
when her sister shook her head.
Before the fight could escalate any further, Ms. Keane clapped her book shut and stormed to
the back of the room. Hands on her hips, her eyes narrowed, she looked back and forth
between Buttercup and the Rowdyruff Boys.
“That’s enough. Buttercup, you know better than to throw things. And boys, we talked about
this yesterday. You are not to disrupt your classmates. If I hear one more outburst out of any
of you, you’ll all be spending recess in time out.” Despite the four pairs of superpowered
eyes now staring her down, Ms. Keane remained unmoved, her tone and her expression
leaving no room for argument.
“Yes, Ms. Keane.”
Crossing her arms and returning to her seat, Buttercup continued to glare at the Rowdyruff
Boys. She silently growled when Brick turned and stuck his tongue out at her.
“I can’t believe these jerks. Getting me in trouble…” she murmured.
“They’re trying to make us mad, Buttercup. You’re just giving them what they want,”
Bubbles pointed out, rubbing Blossom’s back. Concern was etched into the blonde’s
expression as she tried again to get the redhead’s attention, but to no avail.
Bubbles gasped, surprised at the sight of her own breath.

“What the?” Buttercup shivered.
The pair looked down at their sister, watching as her every shaking breath sprayed a cloud of
snowflakes onto the floor beneath their feet. Buttercup reached for Blossom’s shaking mitt,
taking it in hers and squeezing it tight. Bubbles scooted her chair closer, dutifully rubbing her
back once again.
Around the room, some of the students began to shiver. At her desk, Ms. Keane rubbed her
hands together, muttering about the thermostat being on the fritz again. No one seemed to
notice the spiral of icicles forming above the Powerpuff Girls’ desk, like an eye at the heart
of an arctic hurricane.
“Brick, I’m bored!” Boomer whined.
“Boomer, shut it! I heard you the last six times!” Brick snapped back, crossing his arms and
glaring at the playground. The boys had laid claim to the jungle gym, their presence alone
enough to scare off the younger kids. Any who dared to even consider asking them to play
was dealt with by a single glare from the Rowdyruff leader. Brick was sitting at the very top,
peering into the classroom. Ms. Keane had asked Blossom to stay behind and he was
determined to answer the question that had plagued him for the last twenty-four hours: what
made Blossom so special?
Dangling upside-down, Boomer stretched his arms out, trying to reach the ground. Hearing
his brother growl, he glanced in Brick’s direction, then to the school. A flutter of movement
caught his attention before he could use his X-Ray vision. Following the butterfly as it drifted
across the playground, he watched it cross the threshold between the blacktop and the
rainbow kaleidoscope of chalk drawings that took up a large portion of the playground. He
continued following it until it landed on his counterpart’s hand.
“Oh, hello there, little Butterfly! How are you today?”
To his ears, Bubbles’ voice was loud and clear. It stirred up an uncomfortable pressure in his
chest and a heaviness in his fists. They hadn’t so much as spoken since he’d arrived, but just
looking at her was making his head hurt. The edges of his vision darkened; the cobalt flame
in his chest flared up and spilled into the rest of him.
“Maybe we should-” he began, immediately cut off by the sound of rubber bouncing against
the ground.
All three of the Rowdyruffs turned their eyes to the red rubber ball that had landed in front of
the jungle gym. One of the other students ran up to grab it, freezing when he felt three pairs
of evil eyes boring down on him.
“U-um…s-sorry, j-just wanted to get the, um…the ball.” The little boy squeaked, falling over
when a green streak collided with the ground near him. He watched the Rowdyruff boy pick
the ball up. He whimpered when a pair of wild, green eyes turned to face him.
“Oh yeah? This ball? You want this ball?” Butch asked, tossing the ball from one mitt to the
other. The ball made a satisfying thunk every time it hit his palm. Even more satisfying was
the way the little boy flinched in time with the sound. “What’re you playing?”
“We-we’re, um…we’re pl-playing d-dodgeball,” the boy replied, scooting away from the
approaching Rowdyruff boy.
“Oooh, dodgeball, huh?” Butch looked back over his shoulder at his brothers, “Hey! Hey
guys! They’re playing dodgeball!”
Streaks of red and blue came crashing down next to Butch. Brick snatched the ball out of his
hands, looking over with a toothy grin. He turned to the little boy, bouncing the ball against
the ground with enough force to crack the pavement.
“That sounds fun, mind if we cut in?” Without waiting for an answer, Brick hurled the ball at
the little boy. The rubber surface caught fire, screaming through the air toward the fallen
child’s face.
The boy was spared a broken nose, or worse, by a fourth streak of light landing in front of
him, catching the ball in both hands. Buttercup glowered at the three. The tips of her hair
began to rise as the air around her filled with crackling sparks.
Brick stepped forward, shrugging and sneering at the heroine.
“What’s the problem? We ain’t allowed to play? That ain’t very fair, is it boys?”
Butch nodded fiercely, “Yeah! Ain’t no fair! C’mon, let us play! Let us plaaay!” His eye was
twitching and there was a crazed grin plastered across his face..
“Yeah! What’s wrong, you scared we’ll win?” Boomer added. There was an unusual
nastiness to his voice and the vacant look in his eyes was gone, replaced with sinister focus.
When his brother turned to take a swing at him, Boomer tilted his head just enough for the
punch to whiz by harmlessly.
Buttercup scoffed and shook her head. Motioning for the little boy behind her to run, she
bounced the ball from one hand to the other, lowering herself into an attack stance.
“As if,” she began to dribble the ball faster, until it appeared to be nothing but a blur of red in
front of her and the rhythmic thunk turned to machine gun fire, “I can take all three of you
losers myself.”
The Rowdyruffs shifted into matching stances. The fire that burned in Boomer’s eyes had
spread to his brothers. The wind seemed afraid to blow and the sky seemed darkened by their
presence.
“We’re gonna make you eat those words,” Brick growled in a low voice.
Without missing a beat, Boomer chimed in, “Spit ‘em out, then eat ‘em again.”
“Hope you’re hungry, sissy,” Butch finished, his chest heaving with excitement.
Buttercup narrowed her eyes. The playground suddenly slowed to a crawl. The ball, which
had been barreling back and forth between her hands like a cannonball, moved in slow-
motion as it hit the ground between her feet. The air around her crackled and popped. Just
before the ball reached her mitt, her lips pulled back in a grin.
“Try to keep up.”
“You want me to do what?” Blossom asked incredulously. While everyone else had hurried
outside for recess, Ms. Keane had asked her to stay behind to discuss something important.
Her mind had raced to come up with what task her teacher could have come up with for her,
but she’d never have in a million years guessed the truth.
Ms. Keane reached across the table, taking Blossom’s shaking mitt in her hand.
“I know I’m asking a lot of you, but I really do think you’re the best person to help me with
this, Blossom,” she assured the bewildered little girl.
Blossom looked down at her hand, a smile passing over her face before quickly becoming a
scowl. She pulled her hand back and crossed her arms, glaring at the desk in the middle of the
room.
“He’ll never agree to it. Even if he did, they’ll just use it as a reason to make fun of me
again.” Heat rose in her cheeks and her expression darkened. For a moment, she could hear
their mocking laughter echoing in her head, before it was drowned out by a shrill whistle. Her
vision swam with red; her fists felt heavy again.
Ms. Keane’s hand touching her face tore her away from those dark thoughts and brought her
back to the present. Before she could catch herself, she pressed her cheek against the older
woman’s hand and bit her lip. A cold tear slipped through her defenses and trailed down her
cheek.
“They’re just going to laugh at me if I ask…” she pointed out in a soft, shaking voice.
“You’re not asking all of them, you’re just asking Boomer,” Ms. Keane said, scooting her
chair close enough to wrap her arm around the redhead.
“Would he even want to?” Blossom asked, “He’s so…” she trailed off, unable to find a polite
way to say what she was really thinking.
“He’s…very far behind,” Ms. Keane agreed, “That’s exactly why I need your help.”
Though she didn’t respond, the tension still in Blossom’s shoulders was telling.
“I know it may be hard to believe, but I think, in their own way, the boys are trying to
change. They’re disruptive and antagonistic, but…” Ms. Keane reached for a small stack of
papers, fanning them out in front of the pair.
It was an assignment from the day before. While the handwriting left a lot to be desired, there
were answers in most of the boxes. Brick’s was the most legible and, to Blossom’s surprise,
mostly correct. Butch’s was less so, and smattered with crude, violent doodles, but it was
clear that he had made some attempt. The last paper was Boomer’s. Blossom sat up, taking
the paper in her hands and looking it over.
None of the boxes were blank, but the random assortment of letters, and the tell-tale signs of
a pencil tracing every letter of every word told a story all their own.
“He really can’t read,” Blossom had known that Boomer wasn’t very bright, but she’d just
assumed it was mostly common sense.
Ms. Keane nodded, “He said he knows some of the letters,” she pointed out one of the words,
which had the most scratches around it, “He’s trying. They’re all trying. I know I’m asking a
lot of you, Blossom, and I won’t force you…but, I think if anyone is up to the challenge of
tutoring someone like Boomer, you’re the best, maybe the only person who is.”
“Trying…” Blossom murmured, unable to tear her eyes away from the worksheet. They
landed on the space at the top where he was supposed to write his name: B O M R. Blossom
wiped away the stray tears from earlier and nodded, “Okay, but only if he wants me to.”
Ms. Keane beamed, “That’s all I can ask. Thank you, Blossom. I can’t tell you just how much
I appreciate you.”
The atmosphere was immediately ruined when the window overlooking the playground
exploded, spraying the room with shards of glass and filling the air with screams from
outside.
Blossom threw herself in front of Ms. Keane, shielding her from the debris. After making
sure her teacher was unharmed, the pair went to the window and peered into the chaos.
The playground looked like a warzone. The black top was ripped up and littered with craters.
Students hid behind the twisted remains of the jungle gym and the monkey bars, desperately
seeking shelter when the red orb of destruction crashed through yet another barricade. Streaks
of green, red, and blue shot through the air like bolts of lightning, the orb bouncing between
them at an impossible speed.
Off to the side, Bubbles was doing what she could to protect her younger classmates, zipping
through the chaos to pull them to safety. As she tucked another refugee behind the scrap of
metal that had once been a slide, she turned toward the eye of the storm.
The Rowdyruff Boys were alight with hateful dark energy, each glowing their chosen hue.
Boomer was wielding a bat of sparkling energy, swinging with impeccable precision to send
the crimson destroyer flying back at their attacker. His movements were unlike his usual
lumbering pace, flowing gracefully from one strike to a dodge, to another swing, as if his
powerful body were being piloted by someone else entirely. His unusual, seemingly perfect
footwork allowed him to avoid certain doom, but little else.
Brick kept his distance, preferring to duck and dodge away from the heroine’s attacks while
searching for some kind of opening in her relentless offensive. He clutched a ball he’d
snatched from one of the other students tight in his hand. With a grunt, he shot into the air,
locking eyes with Buttercup as she streaked through the space he’d previously occupied.
Clenching his teeth in a fury, he twisted around to avoid a strike from an impossible angle.
No sooner had he caught sight of her, she was somewhere else, throwing another attack.
Standing at the heart of the storm, was Butch. While his brothers were struggling to keep up
with Buttercup, the Baron of Berserk made no such attempts. Head tossed back, laughing like
a madman, Butch weathered the ripping winds like they were nothing. The air around him
shimmered with jade energy. Whenever one of the crimson destroyers collided with the wall
of light, it flashed but withstood the attack, sending the ball hurling back at his counterpart.
“C’mon sissies! Is this the best you got!? Is this the best?! Cuz it ain’t good enough!” Butch
cackled. When the next ball hit his shield, instead of rocketing away, it barely bounced,
giving the Rowdyruff boy time to snatch it. Weapon in hand, he charged into the emerald
winds, catching Buttercup by surprise and shouldering her out of her flight. Skidding to a
halt, he reared back and threw the ball at her prone form with all his might, “Take this!”
Buttercup grit her teeth. Things around her slowed to a crawl once again, allowing her to
right herself in fractions of a fraction of a second. The air around her cracked, sending her
flying forward. Snatching the ball, she swerved by Butch, vanishing in a burst of sparks.
“You’re done!” Before the first flash was visible, Buttercup appeared behind Boomer,
slamming the ball into his back and sending him flying forward, tearing the ground apart with
his face. She wasted no time in celebration, tensing her legs and disappearing in another flash
of sparks, a ball flying harmlessly through the space she’d occupied just an instant prior.
“Ah! Boomer!” Bubbles shrieked, jumping back to avoid being bowled over by the
towheaded boy scraping past her. Tossing one last look at the dodgeball match, she hurried to
Boomer’s side, sliding to her knees and reaching out for him, “Are you alright?”
The blue-eyed Rowdyruff boy up, spitting out a mouthful of pavement. When he noticed the
mitt held out to him, his expression darkened. With an animalistic growl, he swatted her hand
away, the force of his own swing knocking him off balance and sending him face first into
the dirt again.
“I don’t need your help!” He said, grunting and rubbing his sore head.
Bubbles frowned, “I’m sorry. Are you sure you’re okay? She hit you pretty hard.” Her
concern only seemed to make her counterpart even angrier.
“I’m fine! I ain’t some wimpy, weak, wimp-sissy!” Boomer marched over to her. His vicious
gaze drifted down to the pavement. Though they were marred by cracks, fresh ditches, and
scorch marks, he couldn’t help but marvel at the colorful, cute chalk drawings that seemed to
decorate nearly half of the playground. Lifting his foot, he saw that he was standing on a fat,
cheerful unicorn.
“Do you like them?” Bubbles’ voice caught him off guard, “I’ve been drawing almost every
day for the last three years. I think this one is my favorite.”
Boomer lifted his head, following her line of sight to a rather large patch of black top that had
managed to remain unharmed by the chaos. While most of the drawings were simple scenes
or fantasy animals, the one that Bubbles was most proud of was a bit more involved. An
intricate series of elegant swirls and graceful lines forming a series of pink, green, and blue
shapes, all within a carefully drawn heart.
“Every time we beat a new monster or bad guy, I add something to it. See?” Bubbles knelt
down by the heart, pointing to a space in the corner. This section was made up of darker
swirls of the original three colors, “I made this one the first time we fought you guys, and
then I added this part,” The three dark colors came together to form a small, jagged heart. She
turned to him with a smile, “Do you like it?”
His eyes flickered between the blue-eyed Powerpuff girl and the drawing. His initial thoughts
were quickly getting lost in the heat rising in his chest. His head throbbed when she spoke
and his lips curled into a snarl. Clenching his eyes shut, Boomer tried to ignore the devil’s
fire burning inside him, but-
“It’s stupid! It’s ugly and lame and I hate it!” Boomer’s eyes widened and a blast of heat
erupted from within him, blasting away the pavement, reducing her favorite drawing to a
broken pile of rock and smoke.
“Why did you do that?!” Bubbles shrieked, jumping to her feet, hands flying to her mouth.
She turned to Boomer, the concern from before replaced by fury.
“Because I hate it!” Boomer shot back without wasting a beat. Thrusting his mitt out, the fire
inside him began to rage out of control, “And I hate you!”
“Why!?”
That one word crashed into him like a splash of ice cold water. Boomer’s expression softened
and his arm dropped to his side. His jaw relaxed and his shoulders sank. Her face came into
focus and he could see the tears rolling down her cheeks.
“I, uh…” Boomer’s voice was soft, unsure. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat and
turned away from her. His eyes immediately fell on the busted drawing. A stinging, heavy
weight settled in the pit of his stomach. “I don’t know.”
The game had gotten out of hand. Shortly after his brother was taken out, Brick found
himself tasting rubbing and concrete, lying in a crater. Pushing himself up on his elbows, he
grumbled and watched as the fight between the last puff and ruff standing escalated even
further. The dodgeball pretense was gone, all of the balls had been reduced to deflated scraps
of red rubber. No, with the balls gone, it had become an all-out brawl. Buttercup’s
unrelenting offense against Butch’s indomitable defense.
Clutching his side, Brick dug himself out of the dirt.

“Damn, she musta hit me like six times,” he murmured. He’d gotten a taste of the green
Powerpuff girl’s power the day before, but the demon’s warning loomed larger than ever after
watching her dismantle the three of them. Well, two, he corrected himself. Where his brain
and Boomer’s… whatever had failed, Butch was still going strong.
“You better not lose, numb dick!” He shouted at the storm. In response, his brother’s laughter
grew even more unhinged.
Brick dropped back to the ground, watching unblinking. As the fight continued to play out,
his grimace changed, becoming a grin.
Butch couldn’t stop himself from laughing. As Buttercup’s fist collided uselessly against his
shield again, the giggles bubbling in his belly overflowed, causing him to double over with
laughter. Pressing his knuckles into the dirt, grinning like a fool, he turned in the direction of
yet another foiled attack.
“Try again! Harder! Harder! HARDER!” He laughed, standing up straight and beating his
chest, “I’M INVINCIBLE! HIT ME HARDER SISSY!” The Rowdyruff boy deflected
another attack, this time throwing himself in her direction. He missed, of course, his fists
ripping through the brittle pavement. He’d only hit her the one time, but, he thought with
another laugh, that was still more than she’d managed to hit him.
His body burned with hateful energy. He could see the dark flames rising from his skin as
they spilled out of his chest and into the rest of him. She wasn’t used to someone like him.
She couldn’t deal with someone like him. He was built different; he was built to beat her.
It didn’t matter that he couldn’t keep up. No matter how fast she moved, his body knew, even
if he didn’t, where she was going to strike. As if to prove that point, a series of green flashes
went off behind him, repelling another furious assault from his counterpart. Butch clenched
his fists at his sides and bent his knees. His eye started to twitch, but he managed to control it.
Waiting for the next attack, he turned when he felt his shield start to form.
For a second, he could see her. He could see his wild eyes reflected in hers. She knew it too.
She knew that he was about to win. As he pulled his fist back, the flames consumed him.
With a roar, Butch lunged forward, swinging for her face. His eyes slammed shut, blocking
out the spray of sparks left behind when she vanished.
“GAH!” His hands flew to his face, “QUIT RUNNING! YOU KNOW YOU CAN’T WIN!”
Butch forced his eyes open. They were watering, but he couldn’t stop grinning. Crossing his
arms over his chest, his shield intensified. No matter how fast she was, no matter how hard
she swung, she’d never break through. He was invincible.
That was his last thought as he turned to face her. His vision was still blurry, but even through
that he could see it wasn’t Buttercup. The rose-colored eyes staring him down weren’t like
hers at all. They sent a shiver down his spine.
Butch steadied himself, digging his heels in and pouring all of his strength into his shield.
When she pulled her fist back, his chest tightened. When she swung, he couldn’t breathe.
Her fist smashed through his shield like it was nothing. Flickering shards of jade energy
bloomed outward from the point of impact. The flames in his chest and the laugh in his throat
vanished when her fist hit his chest. The world flipped upside down and all he knew was
pain.
His vision swam, but he held onto consciousness. Mouth hanging open, tongue falling from
his mouth, he couldn’t look away from her.
The air around her erupted into a flash of emerald sparks. A fist came flying too fast to
follow, crashing into the side of her face. Her head jerked to the side, but she remained on her
feet, otherwise unmoved, even as the force from the blow caused the pavement around her to
turn to rubble.
“Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! I am so sorry! I’m so sorry!”
Butch could just barely make out Buttercup’s apologies through the trance her sister’s
suffocating presence had forced him into. There wasn’t a scratch on her; her glare hadn’t
wavered in the slightest. He felt a chill and his eye twitched.
If he was invincible…what did that make her?
The rest of the day passed without incident. The boys kept to themselves, letting the rest of
the students focus on their classwork. And when the bell rang, they left without a fuss.
When everyone had cleared out, Bubbles took up the task of going around the room, cleaning
up any mess left behind and straightening things. Ms. Keane sat at her desk, finishing up the
day’s work and gathering what she needed for her after school work. Buttercup sat on the
desk, looking down at her redheaded sister. Blossom had returned to her oath of silence,
keeping her head down and not participating for the rest of class.
“H-hey, um, Red?” When she received no response, Buttercup continued, “I’m really, really
sorry about before. The whole thing, it was, um…the whole thing was my fault. I just wanted
an excuse to fight the boys.”
Without looking up, Blossom replied, “It’s alright, don’t worry about it.”
Jumping off the table and sliding back into her seat, Buttercup shook her head.
“It’s not okay! I really screwed up and I…” she bit her lip, struggling to continue, “I’m really,
really, really sorry for hitting you. That wasn’t cool at all.”
Blossom finally looked up. She reached over, taking Buttercup’s mitt in hers and smiling.
“It’s really okay, Buttercup.” She giggled, sticking her tongue out, “Would it help if I said I
barely felt it?” Blossom grinned when Buttercup playfully punched her shoulder.
“You trying to say I’m weak or something?” Buttercup laughed, “Ms. Bathtub thinks she’s so
tough…”
“Please,” Blossom began, cutting her off, “please don’t call me that.”
“Heh, sorry.” Buttercup scratched her head and turned her attention to her desk. She started to
speak, but bit her tongue. After a moment of consideration, she continued, “Hey, so, when we
get back, you wanna go to the Danger Grid? It’s just, it’s been a pretty rough couple days
and,” Buttercup grinned, “you’d probably feel better if you blew off some steam, you know?
Knock me around a bit. I can take it.”
“Buttercup!” Blossom wore an incredulous look. She reached out, grabbing Buttercup’s hand,
“Don’t joke like that. I don’t want to hurt you…I still feel bad about the other day.”
“Oh, yeah. I totally forgot about that,” Buttercup mused, cocking her head, “I guess we’re
even then, huh?” The two giggled. Buttercup returned Blossom’s hold on her hand, squeezing
it tight, “You don’t gotta feel bad about that, Red. I, um…” she pursed her lips, looking
around the room. Satisfied that Bubbles was distracted, she quickly threw her arms around
Blossom.
“I love ya, Red. You’re my…” Buttercup held her a bit closer, struggling to find the words,
“You’re cool. You can, you know, talk to me if you wanna. Or we can just beat each other up,
if it helps.”
Blossom bit her lip, trying to fight back the emotion swelling up in her chest. The last several
days flashed through her mind. When Buttercup started to pull away, her arms snaked around
her waist and pulled her back.
“Thanks, Buttercup…”
Citiesville Town Hall was busier than usual. Word had spread fast of the events that
transpired the night before. The city was no stranger to violence, but the sheer brutality and
volume of murders that had taken place had shaken the jaded city of evil to its core.
In a familiar break room, a red-haired monster sat in the back, sipping a cup of overly sugary
coffee and perusing a newspaper that had been meant for the mayor. He couldn’t help but
grin, breathing in a fresh new sensation. Fear, something that the cynical citizens had long
ago, was now thick in the air. His grip on the newspaper tightened, his fingers wanting to
become claws, longing to taste blood again. The time would come, but to properly salt the
meat he needed to give them a reprieve from his vengeance.
They needed hope so that he could rip it from them with their still-beating hearts.
“I’m telling you, it’s a sign!”
“Man, come the fuck on, it’s not a sign.”
Aku looked up, raising an eyebrow as a pair of familiar faces entered the break room. This
time, they both raised a hand in greeting. Unsure about how to respond, Aku raised his coffee
to them. That seemed to please them for the time being and the two returned to their
conversation. Aku tried to focus on his paper, but he couldn’t resist eavesdropping.
The shaggy-haired man plopped down in his seat, scratching his beard.
“Okay, so what makes it a sign?” he asked, kicking the seat across from him so his partner
could sit down.
The other man, a bit heavier set than the first, with long bangs that fell over the left side of
his freckled face, slid into his seat. Like before, he quickly pulled a rolled cigarette from his
shirt pocket. This time, after taking a long puff, his partner accepted it. Neither spoke until
there was a halo of white smoke above them.
Clearing his throat, the freckled man explained, “How long has it been? Two, three, four
years since you moved here? Dude, think about the timing! Some bigass demon shows up
across the river, and now we’ve got some gnarly-ass serial killing going on. It’s a sign!”
Aku’s ears perked up. Trying to be discreet, he turned his seat toward the. He cringed when it
noisily scraped across the floor.
“Shit like that happens all the time back home,” the shaggy-haired man insisted. Much to the
monster’s surprise, he turned to him and gestured to his partner, “C’mon man, what do you
think? It’s not a sign, right?”
Aku looked back and forth between them. After a moment of consideration, he rose to his
feet and moved his chair to their table. Neither protested when he joined them. He gestured to
the newspaper.
“You are referring to the extraordinary killings that took place last night?” He asked.
“Right, exactly! See? They’re extraordinary, Garrett. The Boss himself said so!” the freckled
man exclaimed.
The Boss? Aku looked back and forth between the pair, becoming more confused.
“Yeah, they’re weird, but it’s Shittiesville, people turn up dead,” The shaggy-haired man,
Garrett, said. The microwave beeped, interrupting him, “One sec,” climbing to his feet, he
stepped away from the table to check on his food.
Aku cleared his throat.
“I, um, do not mean to pry, but…even in light of these horrifying actions, you are not…
opposed to my presence?” His red eyes zeroed in on the food that Garrett brought back to the
table. Some kind of flour wrapping around a delicious smelling combination of beans and
meat.
“Nah, man, I’m from Townsville,” Garrett explained, biting into his microwaved burrito. He
fell back in his seat, moaning with satisfaction, “Fuck me, these are amazing. Seamus, you
want one? I got an extra.”
The freckled man, Seamus, shook his head, munching on a bag of fried potato skins.
“Nah, I’m good, thanks bud,” swallowing and taking another drag from his blunt, he, again,
offered it to Aku, “You wanna hit this time, Boss Man?”
Aku was tempted to try the magical cigarette, especially when Garrett bit into his burrito
again. The look of ecstasy on his face was making a very good argument to give it a try.
“That is…no, I must decline. I apologize, but thank you again for your offer,” Aku said,
talking himself out of it. Turning his curious eyes to Garrett, he continued, “You are from
Townsville, yes? Then, you know of the Powerpuff Girls?”
Seamus snorted and laughed, “Oh god, here we go.”
Aku glanced at him in confusion. He didn’t have to wait long for an answer.
“Man, of course! Dude, I grew up in Townsville before the girls were born, that place was
fucking ass. Like worse than this dump, bad. Then, Prof U cooks those kids up and suddenly
shit is almost normal, except better than normal. Cuz we’ve got the motherfucking Powerpuff
Girls, man!” Garrett paused to take another hit from the cigarette, “They’re fucking
awesome. My brother, Joey, was in their class. He got up to some bad shit because of Mojo,
but they helped him out and were always cool.”
“Listen,” Garrett continued, suddenly serious, “When the girls first showed up, a lot of
people thought they were monsters. They got real pissed cuz they, like, blew up half the town
playing tag. Whatever, Ms. B got the HCT-16167 filed and the town was back to normal in
like, what, three days?”
“Bro, get to the point man,” Seamus elbowed Aku, grinning, “Next part is so good.”
Aku was already on the edge of his seat, leaning against the table and nodding.
“So, like, everyone hates them. Call ‘em freaks, weirdos, monsters. It gets so bad they chase
'em out of town. I think Joey said they went into fuckin’ space. Then shit really hits the fan.
I’m talking Mojo fucking Jojo shit hitting the fan. Whole city is, like, doomed. Darkest hour
shit. You know what happened next?”
Aku shook his head, holding his breath.
“Those freaky girls, those monsters, those FUCKING monsters saved us.” Garrett took
another drag, finishing his cigarette.
“Fucking shivers, every time,” Seamus murmured, digging into his chips again after pausing
so Garrett could tell his story.
“You know what the craziest part is? After all that, they were still about to give their powers
up before the mayor convinced them not to.” Garrett shook his head, “Glad they didn’t
though. They cleaned up the town. This reporter at the Townsville Tribune, dude named
Kenny, wrote this article ‘They’re No Powderpuffs, They’re Power Puff Girls!’ The name
stuck and, boom, history was made.”
Garrett blew a white cloud at the ceiling, ”That’s why I don’t give a shit about monsters,
man. Some of you are chill, some of you ain’t. It’s whatever, people are the same.”
The town had considered them monsters? They had even chased them away, but the girls still
came back to save them in their time of need? The demon recalled his own creation, down to
the sting of the magic arrow that made him into the being called Aku.
He turned to Seamus, raising a smoldering eyebrow.
“Are you also from Townsville?” he asked.
Seamus laughed and shook his head.
“Nah, man. Born and bred in Citiesville.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “I’m the IT
guy for Citiesville Central Elementary. We’ve got a monster on the faculty that I hang with.
He’s pretty much the coolest guy I know.” He gestured toward Aku with one of his chips,
“You know a guy named Barry? Green skin, white hair, horns?”
Aku shook his head.
“I am afraid I am still new to town. I have not had a chance to make many acquaintances.”
He said, eying the chip. When Seamus offered it to him, he accepted the gift, popping it into
his mouth. The savory, salty taste was unexpected, but he quickly found himself desiring
more.
Garrett looked up at the clock on the wall and stretched his arms out with an exaggerated
sigh.
“Shit man, we better go if we’re gonna catch that movie.” He turned to Aku, holding his hand
out, “Nice to see you again, Boss.”
Aku grasped his hand and gave it a firm shake.
“I must admit, it was nice to see you again, as well.” He looked up when Seamus clapped
him on the shoulder.
“Stay safe out there, Boss. Keep fightin’ the good fight.”
Aku waved again as they left. His eyes drifted to the bag of chips that Seamus had left
behind, and a second frozen burrito that Garrett had left behind. Whoever these strange
humans were, they seemed to recognize his superiority and offered him tribute. He hurried to
the microwave, popping the frozen treat inside. While it cooked, he munched on the
remainder of the chips, his thoughts drawn back to the story about the Powerpuff Girls.
They had saved the very people who hated them. He couldn’t imagine doing the same.
The pulsing music and active nightlife of the Eastside made it one of the safer places in town
to cause trouble. Theft was rampant and went unreported due to a general distrust of the
police. Given the proximity to the prison, many of Townsville’s criminal population found
themselves living in the Eastside after serving their sentence. While it was uncommon for
anyone who made it out of a fight with the Powerpuff Girls to want to test fate again, it
wasn’t exactly rare. If anything, the constant flow of ex-cons into a single district had
allowed the smarter of the criminals to take advantage of a never ending supply of patsies and
underlings.
One such crew had chosen that night to get back at a particularly nasty landlady. The group
of four had been sharing a single apartment for months, their complaints going unheard.
None of them really wanted to end up in prison again, but, after months of faulty utilities
while being hounded for rent, they had been pushed to a breaking point.
It wasn’t about the money, not really. No, when they decided to break into their landlady’s
house that night, it was more about sending a message. A very simple message: quit screwing
us.
The scorched wasteland seemed to go on for an eternity. Turning his eyes up to the sky, he
found himself gazing into a black abyss, infinite and starless. Facing forward, he continued
his trek. Why he didn’t change to another shape and fly, he couldn’t say. Why he chose to
have feet, just so they could burn, he didn’t know either.
All he knew was which way to go. So he trudged on, ignoring the blistering heat and the
growing weight on his shoulders. Ever onward, drawn by an immutable gravity.
“Fuck you, Dorothy!” One of the ruffians shouted into the night, smashing a busted wooden
bat against the television he’d snatched from the house. Sweat trickled down his face, a rush
of adrenaline surging through his system. He turned to his companions, “You guys find
anything good?”
An older woman sighed and threw the jewelry box in her hand to the ground. She turned to
the young man and shrugged.
“It’s all garbage, not worth anything.” Despite her frustrated tone, the look on her face
seemed almost relieved. Resting her hands on her hips, she looked at the other two, “You
almost done?”
The pair had managed to drag a blue felt recliner out of the small door and were taking turns
stabbing it with a knife or beating it with a bat. They hadn’t done much damage, but it was
cathartic nonetheless. The oldest of the group, a tall, muscular man with a bushy beard, stood
up straight and cracked his back.
“Yeah, I’m about spent,” he admitted. He grabbed the other man by the shoulder, stopping his
furious assault on the chair, “Chill, let’s get out of here.”
Panting, the bald man nodded and started to walk away. He slowed to a halt, when a chill
rolled up his spine and he realized he could see his breath.
“H-hey, did it get real cold all of a sudden?” he asked, turning to the others. He saw them all
staring past him and turned in the same direction. He swallowed nervously seeing her
standing there.
A cold wind swept across the scorched landscape, sending him tumbling forward several
steps. He caught himself, looking up at the sky. Fluffy white clouds were appearing in the
abyss, stretching across the sky like a cotton blanket. He held up his hand, staring in awe at
the snowflake that landed in his palm.
Another chilling wind blew him forward. The cold washed over him, and into his lungs. A
grin broke out on his face and he began to run. He was getting closer. As he continued
forward, a light powder covered the barren landscape, a gentle snow falling on him.
His eyes grew wide. He could make out the curve of what he’d been searching for on the
horizon.
“Wo-woah, uh, look I know this looks bad,” the big man started to explain, holding his hands
out defensively, “I-I know this is bad. But, listen, we just wanted her to listen! We didn’t steal
anything!”
“Y-yeah! W-we’ll put it back if you want!” the young man offered, tripping over himself to
get away from her piercing glare.
Her severe gaze drifted from one to another, making eye contact with each of them. The
temperature in the air continued to plummet. She breathed out a heavy breath, spraying the
street with snowflakes. When she stepped forward, icicles spread from her feet.
“Vandalism is still a crime,” she hissed. Her eyes were narrowed and unblinking.
“S-so is what she was doing!” the women insisted, thrusting an accusatory finger at the
house, “No repairs, not even reliable fucking water!” She yelped and took a step back when
the little girl brought a heavy foot down, cracking the pavement.
“Someone else hurts you, so you get to hurt them back? Is that how things work?” Though it
was phrased as a question, her tone made it perfectly clear that she wasn’t looking for a
discussion. The wind began to howl. Thick, fluffy clouds swirled together in the sky
overhead.
“We-we’ll pay it back! We’ll replace everything!” The bald man said.
The young man turned to him in shock, “What?! We can’t afford that!”
“Shut it, Kyle!”
The pink in her eyes began to glow. A light flurry of snow began to fall on the Eastside.
“Turn yourselves in to the police. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“What? No, no, no! I just got out, I’m not going back!” The young man cried.
“Kyle, shut the fuck-”
Though she kept her voice low, it drowned out the bald man’s shout when she said:
“Fine, we’ll do this the hard way.”
A gasp escaped his lips when he finally arrived at the edge of the dying world. Just over the
edge, he could see an impossible drop into a raging, stormy sea. The snow was falling like a
blizzard, powerful winds whipping around him, threatening to push him over the edge. The
wind, the fall, the devastated expanse, none of them could compare to the sight before him.
At the end of the horizon, was a star unlike any other. It consumed the sky, changing it from
an inky abyss to an ocean of rosewater. Despite its radiance, the star was the source of
blizzard, emitting a cold so deep that it had frozen the very flames of Hell.
His hands moved on their own, reaching out for the star, beckoning it toward him. He
breathed in its arctic winds, ecstasy coursing through his body as it filled his lungs and
chilled the burning darklight within his chest.
Basking in the cold light of the star, he could almost imagine a world without the devil’s fire.
It wasn’t until the last body hit the ground that Blossom realized what had happened. The red
in her vision cleared, but in its absence she could see the blood pooling on the ground. Her
hands flew to her mouth, her eyes widening in horror when she tasted the metallic liquid
dripping from them. She couldn’t bring herself to blink, even as her eyes took in everything.
The woman was halfway through the wall of the house. One of her legs was twisted all the
way around. She was moaning, but it was a weak sound. There was a plank of wood
embedded in her side, and her arm was shredded with broken glass.
Even with her eyes, she couldn’t bring herself to see the young man’s face. What remained of
the television was resting on his shoulders. His foot twitched every so often, but the rising
and falling of his chest was almost too shallow for even her to see. She couldn’t find one of
his arms, and she prayed it was because of the angle.
The bald man and big man were lying side by side. The bald man’s head was drenched in
blood, one of his ears missing, his face pummeled beyond recognition. He breathed in high-
pitched, strangled cries. Any time he so much as twitched, his breath left him in an
animalistic whine.
Both of the big man’s arms were crushed, one twisted all the way around, dangling from a
loose shoulder socket. His other arm looked like a crumpled soda can, his fingers twisted at
several impossible angles. A steady drip of blood trickled from his ragged, singed beard. Like
the young man, he wasn’t moving.
Blossom backed away, tripping and falling to the ground. Her chest tightened and her
stomach heaved, but all that came out was a ghostly, rasping sound. She bit down on her
mitts, nearly throwing up from the taste of blood, to keep herself from screaming.
What had she done? Why was she even here?
“Turn yourselves in to the police. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Don’t turn yourselves in to the police. I want to hurt you.
Her stomach heaved and she finally blinked, tearing her eyes away from the grisly scene. She
just wanted some air. She just needed to be alone. She never wanted this to happen. She…
“Oh my,” a chillingly familiar voice said, “You really did a number on them, didn’t you?”
Blossom looked up, tears streaming down her blood-streaked face. She tried to stand, but her
legs weren’t listening. She tried to speak, but she couldn’t find her voice.
The white-haired woman knelt down next to her, sincerity like she’d never seen before in her
pretty green eyes. She offered the heroine a smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling.
“Let’s get you out of here, hon.” Ima offered her hand to the fallen heroine. When she didn’t
move, she cocked her head and pouted, “Come on, this is no place for a girl your age. Let’s
get somewhere safe and we can talk about what happened. Alright?”
Blossom remained paralyzed. Her eyes drifted toward the mangled bodies, but Ima caught
her chin and turned her face toward her once again.
“Blossom, honey, don’t worry. Everything is going to be alright.”
She had no reason to trust her. In fact, she had a million reasons not to. But, when Ima
offered her hand again, Blossom felt compelled to take it. And when she lifted her into her
arms, she couldn’t help but bury herself in the former-villain’s embrace.
Ima peered out into the dining room, frowning when she spied the heroine. Blossom hadn’t
asked any questions when they arrived at the locked up diner. She’d raised no concerns when
she picked the lock. And she’d not responded when she asked if she wanted anything. She
just stared at her hands, silent tears flowing down her face. Popping a straw in the mug, she
made her way back to the booth, sliding the steaming mug of hot chocolate in front of the
redhead.
“Here, hon, it’s on the house.” Ima returned to the kitchen, unsurprised when she returned
and Blossom still hadn’t moved. Warm rag in hand, she knelt down beside the little girl,
“Let’s get you cleaned up. Gimme your hands.”
Though she didn’t move, she didn’t offer any resistance when Ima took her hands and began
to clean them. She did turn her head, staring with shaking eyes as the blood was wiped away.
Ima lightly dabbed her cheeks and wiped the blood away from her mouth, “That’s better,” she
said, returning to the kitchen to clean off the rag.
A few minutes later, she returned for the last time, sliding into the booth opposite the heroine.
Her drink was still untouched.
“Would you like some marshmallows?” Ima offered.
“I killed them.” Blossom spoke with haunted certainty, as if she were reciting a line from one
of her textbooks, or pointing out that the sky was blue.
Ima rested her chin on her hands, nodding silently. She pursed her lips, fighting the surge of
emotion she felt when Blossom buried her face in her hands and began sobbing. Reaching
across the table, she ran her hand through her silky hair.
“I know. The first time is always scary.” She shushed her, pushing her drink toward her,
“You’re in shock right now. I promise, this’ll help you feel better.”
Her voice hitching, Blossom tried to settle her crying. She peered up at Ima through watery
eyes. Her gaze drifted to her drink. Mitts shaking, she nervously reached for the mug. The
heat was a welcome relief to the chill that had overtaken her. Holding it closer to her chest,
she slipped the straw in her mouth and took a cautious drink.
“There you go. Everything is going to be okay, just take it easy, hon.”
Blossom sipped her hot cocoa, trembling and sniffling. She glanced up at Ima.
“I…” She screwed her lips shut and shook her head, “Why are you being nice to me?”
Ima smiled, drawing circles on the table with her finger.
“I was wondering when you’d ask.”
“I thought you hated me. For…your hair…” Blossom flinched and looked away, focusing on
her cocoa to avoid the death glare she was certain was waiting for her.
“I did, for a little bit,” Ima admitted, “I was bitter, of course. I had a flawless record until you
came into my life. Suddenly, I couldn’t get anything right again. Three strikes and I was out.”
She laughed mirthlessly, “I was a great villain, but you? You were an ultra-super heroine.”
Despite herself, Blossom couldn’t help smiling around her straw.
“I realized something the other day, when I saw you on TV.”
Blossom’s smile quickly faded. Her eyes widened and a tightness formed in her chest.
“What I really hated about you, wasn’t you at all. It was what I thought you were. The Perfect
Little Girl. The Perfect Superheroine. The Perfect Daughter and Perfect Sister.” Ima tapped
her finger on the table and turned to the side, stretching her legs across the booth. “I grew up
with a perfect sister. She was a genius, she was kind, she was helpful. She was everything I
wasn’t.”
“You have a sister?” Blossom found herself asking before she could stop.
“I used to.” Ima replied, “I lost her and everything else when I decided the only thing I was
good for was taking nice things away from stupid men.” Ima glanced across the table at
Blossom, “You remind me of her. But, the other day…I realized that, maybe, you remind me
of me, too.”
Blossom perked up, turning toward the older woman.

“What do you mean?”
Ima smiled, her eyes sparkling, “We were both born into a world that wasn’t made for us. A
world we’ll never fit into, no matter how hard we try.”
Blossom lowered her gaze, chewing on her straw as she drained the last of her hot cocoa.
“My family already had the perfect daughter. All they got with me was a headache. And
when I found out I was a meta-human? That only made things worse…back then, there
weren’t so many superheroes running around. It was just Captain Righteous. Everyone else
with superpowers was a supervillain until proven otherwise. So when my hair started picking
things up, I had to hide it. I had to…try, every day, to pretend I was normal. Eventually…I
didn’t want to try anymore either.”
“I didn’t mean to do that. I…” Blossom swallowed the lump in her throat. She shook her
head and lowered her voice, “I…I didn’t want to do that, but when I started I just…I couldn’t
stop.”
Ima reached across the table, taking Blossom’s hand, “It’s okay. It gets easier.”
Blossom shook her head, but, to Ima’s surprise, didn’t pull away. Instead, she squeezed her
hand back.
“I don’t want it to get easier! I…I don’t want to hurt people.”
“So then, why were you there? What did you want?” Ima asked, lightly caressing Blossom’s
hand with her thumb.
“I don’t…” Blossom began to speak, but the words got caught in her throat. She recalled the
pounding in her head and the heat in her vision. She recalled the fire and lightning pumping
through her veins as she attacked them. She remembered the grin she wore. “I…just…I don’t
know…”
“That’s okay,” Ima assured her, “It’s okay to not know all the answers, and it’s okay to stop
trying every now and then.”
Blossom peeked up at her. The timid look in her eyes was unlike anything the older woman
had ever seen in her before.
“Really?”
Ima smiled and nodded, “Really." Glancing at the clock on the wall, Ima started to stand up,
“It’s late, we should probably get you home.”
“Is it…” Blossom bit her lip, “Can I stay just a little bit longer?”
Ima was struck by the contrast to the all-powerful heroine she was used to seeing. The
hopeful wonder in her eyes was enough to melt even her long frozen heart. She sat back
down, reaching for Blossom’s mug.
“Of course, hon. Do you want another drink?”
Blossom started to shake her head, but caught herself. She knew it wasn’t good to have so
much sugar before bed. And she knew it wasn’t good to stay up so late. But still…
“Yes, please.”
Dark Clouds Gathering
Chapter Summary
A day into his journey to the top of the mountain, the Professor pauses by a pond to
reflect on his progress. At Pokey Oaks Kindergarten, something has changed in the
dynamic between the two superpowered trios. And, as night falls on the cities of
Townsville and Citiesville, a monster stalks the streets, starving for blood.
The Professor peered up at the mountain looming over him, shielding his eyes from the sun, a
weary sigh escaping his lips. More than a day had passed since he started his ascent, but
despite his brisk pace, the summit seemed no closer than it was hours ago. Brushing the
sweat from his brow, he glanced at his surroundings.
There was an unnatural cadence to the path. Sometimes straight, sometimes winding,
sometimes breaking off into forks, seemingly at random. At times there were trees, other
times it was barren. He found himself at a clearing with tall, leafy trees framing a pristine
pond. Slipping his pack from his shoulders, he took a seat by the water. Steadying his
breathing, he leaned back on his hands and let his eyes drift closed.
Since leaving, he hadn’t seen any animals or insects, not even birds flying overhead. The one
constant to the path was its absolute silence. At first, he found it calming, but as the hours
dragged on, he realized that the mountain’s silence left him no distraction from his own mind.
Doubt creeped in as his legs began to ache, dread filled the pit of his stomach as he recalled
Michiko’s warnings about the spirits, longing tugged at his heart as his thoughts drifted to his
girls.
“Three days when she was their age…” the Professor murmured, a bemused smile on his lips
as he imagined his great-grandmother making her first trip. He couldn’t help but see each of
them in her, though they’d never met and there was no blood to bind them.
He could see Bubbles in her kindness, Buttercup in her courage, and Blossom in her wisdom.
Just the thought of a day when the girls could meet her filled him with a renewed sense of
determination.
“Better get going,” he sighed. Climbing to his feet once more, the Professor lifted his pack
and bid the pond a silent farewell.
Where you going, Jimmy?
The Professor froze, the grip on his bag tightening until his knuckles popped. An electric
terror gripped his heart as he spun around. The clearing was empty and not even the leaves
fluttering in the breeze dared to break the silence.
“Nothing…of course,” he assured himself. Of course the owner of that voice wouldn’t be
there. That man was gone; he had watched him die.
Creeping to the edge of the pond, the Professor leaned over, peering into the water. His
shoulders sank and his breathing steadied seeing only his own wide eyes staring back at him.
He released the breath he was holding and flashed himself a reassuring smile.
“You can do this, Jim. You have to do this,” he said, hurrying away from the clearing before
his mind had another chance to wander.
As the Professor disappeared on the tree-covered path, a second set of footsteps broke the
silence of the clearing. They paused by the pond, peering into the crystal clear water just as
the Professor had.
A ripple spread across the water’s surface, revealing a glimpse of blonde hair. Before their
reflection could come into focus, they resumed their pursuit, moving with a lazy gait.
The Citiesville Police Department didn’t have slow days. They had days that weren’t as busy
as others, but even on those days the only breaks the men and women in blue got were the
meager offerings the union managed to bleed from the rock that was City Hall. So it was that
the force suffered a terrible retention rate, one that seemed entirely staffed by apathetic
detectives perpetually a week from retirement and patrolmen looking for an outlet for their
untreated anger.
As busy as the CVPD was on any day of the week, that particular Thursday was an anomaly.
Sixteen murders on Tuesday, followed by twenty-seven murders Wednesday night. Despite
sharing nothing but the most circumstantial of connections, the victims were indiscriminately
slaughtered in the same barbaric fashion. Witnesses reported animalistic screams of terror
followed by rumbling, maniacal laughter. Despite the viciousness of the murders, there was
no evidence left behind. In fact, aside from the presence of a corpse and a smattering of
witness reports, there was no trace that another person had even been present.
Detective Galloway, an older, overweight man threatening retirement every other week, sat at
his desk, already on his sixth cup of coffee, looking through the crime scene photos. He’d
seen more than his share of violence in the thirty years he’d served on the force, including a
number of serial killers. But, a lifetime of callousness still wasn’t enough to keep his hackles
from rising as he tried to piece the case together.
“Hey, Galloway! Heard you got the Laughing Shadow case,” Detective Earle said, leaning
against the older man’s desk and peering down at the photos. Whistling and clicking his
tongue, he turned away, snatching Galloway’s coffee and drinking from it, “God damn.
Bekowski wasn’t kidding. This is some brutal shit, even for this place.”
“Laughing Shadow, huh?” Galloway scoffed, snatching his coffee back from Earle. Without
an ounce of subtlety, he slipped a flask from his pocket and poured the contents into his
coffee, filling it back to the brim, “Who’s the wise guy who came up with that name? You?
Sounds dumb as hell, Earle.”
Earle lit up a cigarette and took a drag from it.
“That’s what the last witness who came in this morning called it. Said all they could see was
a shadow, laughing as they ripped the poor sap apart.” Earle blew a ring of smoke into the air,
“You heard the other news?”
Galloway looked up, his mug already half-drained.
“What news?”
“Quadruple homicide last night,” Earle began.
Galloway cut him off, “Great, the Chief’ll probably push that off on me too.” He paused in
the middle of another drink when Earle shook his head.
“In Townsville.”
That caused the detective to choke on his Irish coffee. Reaching for a tissue from his desk, he
turned to the younger detective with an incredulous look.
“You’re shitting me. There hasn’t been a murder in Townsville in three years. Who's gonna
pull that crap with those powder puffs flying around?” he asked.
Earle shrugged, putting his cigarette out on Galloway’s desk, “Heard it was one of those
rowdy boys who did it. The ones with the same powers as the puffs.”
“Jesus Christ,” the old detective emptied the rest of his flask into his coffee mug, “I swear to
God, I’m too old for this shit. If bodies are turning up in Townsville, things are really going
to the dogs.”
The pair glanced up when they heard shouting from the front of the office. A patrolman was
bringing in a sixteen year old, and the kid wasn’t having it. Already drunk, he was cursing
out everyone around him in a slurred voice. To his credit, the patrolman was doing his best to
ignore it. But, when the kid started swinging, the officer lost his patience. Pinning him to the
wall, he began to beat the still hand-cuffed minor.
No one seemed to bat an eye, most of the officers returning to their work while a few paused
to watch the exchange with all the casualness of discussing football around the water cooler.
No one, that is, save for a tall, dark figure sitting at the edge of the room.
Despite the hustle and bustle of the station, not even the jaded officers of the CVPD would go
near the monster. Laying back in his chair as if it were a throne, the monster watched the
teenager being beaten with a small, cruel smile on his face. His shaggy red hair obscured his
blazing eyes. As the kid fell silent and the beating continued, the monster’s smile grew,
though it never reached his eyes.
He watched the kid fall to the ground, his face a bloodied pulp, some of his teeth missing.
The monster took a long, deep breath, sighing with satisfaction. No one noticed—or perhaps,
no one would dare admit to seeing—the blood still wet on the monster’s hands.
Mornings at Pokey Oaks Kindergarten were traditionally low-key. Ms. Keane liked to give
the students time to socialize and wake up before diving into the lessons for the day. That
routine had been uprooted for the last two days with the arrival of the class’s newest students.
However pleasant the morning was, the moment the door opened and the Rowdyruff Boys
entered, it was ruined. The younger students clammed up, nervous about attracting the ire of
the superpowered troublemakers. The Powerpuff girls were immediately on edge, with
Buttercup practically looking for an excuse to start swinging.
Thursday was no different, at least at first. An otherwise peaceful and cheerful morning
vanished, replaced by palpable tension in the air the minute the boys flew into the room.
Things began to go off script almost immediately though, when Boomer froze, staring across
the room at the Powerpuff Girls’ desk. Without a glance at his brothers, he hovered over to
the desk, clearing his throat.
Whatever the tow-headed boy meant to say got caught in his throat the second a pair of light
blue eyes met his.
“Oh, good morning, Boomer!” Bubbles chirped, flashing him a smile.
The Rowdyruff boy’s mouth slammed shut and his eyes narrowed. His harsh expression
lasted only for a moment before being replaced by a confused look. Boomer opened his
mouth, trying to speak, but no words came out, only an uncomfortable grunt of
acknowledgement.
“Boomer, what are you doing?” Brick called, elbowing Butch, “Dude, I think Boomer’s got a
crush on one of the sissies!”
“Whatever, dude,” Butch muttered, dropping into his seat. His head fell forward, a loud crack
echoing around the room when it hit the desk.
“Dude, what’s up with you?” Brick asked, crossing his arms and turning to face Boomer. His
idiot brother just shrugged and took his seat, resting his head on his mitts. His eyes
occasionally darted in the direction of the Powerpuff Girls, but only for a second before
returning to face forward.
“What is wrong with you guys?” Brick’s question fell on deaf ears. With a defeated growl,
the Rowdyruff leader took his seat between his brothers.
Despite Brick’s best efforts to disrupt the class, without Butch or Boomer to back him up, his
attempts fell flat. By the end of the first lesson of the day, he’d already given up, muttering
something about his brothers being lame. History went by without incident, followed by
Math. Then, Ms. Keane announced the class would spend the rest of the time until recess
working on their Special Person project.
At the back of the room, Blossom sat staring at a blank sheet of paper. Her pencil was held
loosely in her mitt, lightly tapping against the table.
To her right, Bubbles was, once again, hard at work snipping and sketching, coloring and
gluing, stray bits of glitter and construction paper blowing into Blossom’s third of the table.
To her left, she was surprised to see Buttercup hard at work. She had turned herself so that
Blossom couldn’t get a good look at her project, but there was no denying that this was the
most effort Buttercup had put into an assignment in the last two years.
Blossom bit her lip and lowered her head, closing her eyes.
Why was this assignment so difficult? She had never struggled with anything Ms. Keane had
thrown at them. If anything, throwing herself into her work and going above and beyond the
technical requirements had been one of the only ways to keep herself sane while listening to
the same lessons day in and day out, year after year. And yet, here she was, almost a week
into the project, and she’d not even so much as picked a subject.
Her thoughts swam with possibilities. Most were obvious.
There was the Professor, of course. Her father and the smartest man, kindest man she’d ever
met. She owed him so much more than just her life. He could have treated them as what they
were, a lab experiment. But, he instead chose to call them daughters and love them
unconditionally, even when they didn’t deserve it. And, faced with their utter failure to defeat
Aku, he had selflessly thrown himself into harm’s way to help them.
Then there was Ms. Keane. She hadn’t been just a teacher to them for at least a year now. She
went out of her way to try spicing up her lesson plans and playing along with Blossom in
class to keep her from becoming a nuisance. And, in the last year, she’d begun spending even
more time with them outside of class. Even before the Professor left, Blossom fondly recalled
Ms. Keane putting them to bed and promising them a fun time at class the next day. She’d
forgiven their countless mistakes and afforded them patience and grace far beyond the call of
her duty as an educator.
But, there was also Ms. Bellum. While the Mayor was a lovable fool, Ms. Bellum had been
the driving force behind their transformation from a group of kids tearing the town apart, to
the world's greatest team of superheroines. She was subtle and brilliant, holding the city
together behind the scenes, never asking for an ounce of recognition. In truth, she was the
first superheroine that Blossom had ever known.
But…what about Bubbles and Buttercup? Her sisters meant the world to her. No one else saw
the world the way she did. No one else could possibly understand the weight she carried on
her shoulders. No one, but them. Even when purgatory spent in kindergarten robbed her of all
her other friends, they were still there. They understood her in a way that no one else ever
would. They were her joy and laughter, her courage and competition. Just thinking about
choosing either of them, her vast vocabulary couldn’t begin to put words to how much she
loved them.
“Hm…” Blossom opened her eyes and turned her head, peering through the walls and across
the city. At the outskirts, she saw a small diner. Within its walls, she saw a gorgeous woman
with pale hair pouring a mug of coffee and chatting cheerfully with an old couple.
What about…her? The thought caused a shiver to run down her spine and her heart to start
pounding furiously. Bringing her mitt to her lips, she recalled the faint taste of metal,
followed by the rich, sweet taste of chocolate. Ima Goodlady was a rather unexpected face
she never thought she’d see again, much less in such flattering light. But, after years of
absence, she had seen Blossom at her lowest. She’d watched her commit an unforgivable
crime, and instead of condemning or demeaning her…she’d taken her in. Ima had cleaned
her, fed her, and told her that everything was going to be alright.
As her mind went down that forbidden road, a dark figure loomed in the depths of her mind.
Blossom’s hand moved to her cheek. She could feel his breath on her skin and his fire
flooding her veins. He had humiliated her, beaten her like no one else had. She should have
hated him. But, his face haunted her dreams, not her nightmares. The thought of seeing him
again filled her with a rush, not one of dread or anger…but excitement.
“Are you alright, Blossom?”
Bubbles’ voice dragged the redhead out of that dark corner of her thoughts. She realized that
her breathing had grown heavy. Steadying her breath, she turned to Bubbles with a smile.
“I’m okay. Just thinking about…” Blossom looked down at her paper. The snowflakes from
her heavy breathing had spread across the sheet in a kaleidoscope of twists and curves that
made her think of a tall, crooked tree, “my special person…”
At recess, Buttercup sat on a swing, gently rocking back and forth, staring at the classroom.
She’d been shocked to hear that Blossom would be staying in to tutor Boomer starting today.
Truth be told, she thought the idea was stupid. Boomer wasn’t just an idiot, he was an idiot
Rowdyruff boy. The idea that he could learn anything was laughable, but Buttercup had to
admit that Blossom was never one to back down, especially if she was told the challenge was
impossible.
Blossom accepting the task wasn’t that surprising. What had caught Buttercup off guard was
how quickly Boomer agreed. All Blossom had to do was walk up to him and ask if he wanted
her to tutor him. Secretly, Buttercup guessed that Boomer had no idea what tutoring was, and
he would give up on it after realizing it wasn’t going to be fun.
The raven-haired heroine scanned the playground, spotting the remaining Rowdyruff boys
having an argument of some kind by the spot where the jungle gym used to be. Perking up
her ears, she listened in, ready to step in in case things got out of hand.
“What do you mean you don’t wanna play dodgeball? Dude, what is your problem? You have
been so lame today!”
“Dude, just, what’s the point!?”
“To beat Buttercup! Weren’t you listening to me? I told you, I got a plan!”
“Who cares about beating Buttercup?”

“What?!” Buttercup and Brick both exclaimed. Buttercup jumped out of her swing and
crossed her arms, glaring at the pair. What was Butch even talking about? Just yesterday he
was cackling about how he was “built to beat her.” They’d been fighting for three years and
other than their very first fight, he’d never beaten her.
“You were literally made to beat her! Don’t you wanna punch that stupid look off her face?
Don’t you wanna get back at her for the other day?”
“Dude, Brick, I don’t care. It doesn’t matter. We’ll never beat her.”
“What are you talking about?! I know how to beat her!”
Buttercup’s scowl vanished, replaced by surprise when Butch shoved Brick away from him,
exclaiming, “I’m not talking about Buttercup!”
She watched Butch stomp off and Brick scream and throw his hat on the ground. When he
looked up, the pair caught each other’s gaze. He looked just as confused as she felt. She
considered ignoring him and going back to swinging, but his declaration that he knew how to
beat her, and Butch’s apathy toward that idea, had piqued her interest.
With a slight bend of her knees, Buttercup shot across the playground, landing in front of
Brick. She bent down and picked up his hat, twirling it around her mitt.
“What’s up with him?” she asked, jerking her head in Butch’s direction.
“I don’t freaking know!” Brick growled, swiping at her to get his hat back. He scowled when
she yanked it out of his reach, though it quickly became a smirk when she grinned at him.
“Well, I wanna know this so-called ‘plan’ to beat me,” Buttercup teased, vanishing in a flash
of sparks and appearing behind Brick, “Cuz you sure couldn’t beat me yesterday, or the day
before. In fact,” Buttercup put her hand to her chin in mock contemplation, still twirling his
hat, “You guys haven’t beaten any of us since that first fight. You’re kinda the kings of
losing.”
Brick narrowed his eyes, lowering into a combat stance. His smirk had become a toothy grin.
“Try that again. I dare you, sissy, “ he spat.
Buttercup scoffed and narrowed her eyes. Her eyes darted to the side for a fraction of a
fraction of moment, then she vanished. The moment she appeared, a hand launched out,
snatching the hat away from her. She stared in disbelief at Brick as he placed it back on his
head.
“How did you do that?” She was so off guard she didn’t even think about how dumbfounded
she sounded. Only two people had ever caught her since her special power, which she called
her Hyperlight Speed, had developed. One was Aku and the other was Blossom.
Brick threw his head back, laughing. He continued laughing even when she shoved him back
several steps.
“I’m serious! Tell me how you did that!” she insisted.
Still snickering, he leaned toward her, “You really wanna know?”
“Yes! Now tell me!”
Brick crossed his arms and looked around the playground. In a flash, he shot off, returning
with a red rubber ball in his mitt. Bouncing it on the ground, he looked her in the eye.
“If you wanna find out, you gotta play.” He threw the ball toward her.
Buttercup caught the ball, eyes locked with his. Her smirk returned.
After his argument with Brick, Butch shoved his mitts in his pockets and wandered aimlessly
across the playground. His gaze drifted toward the schoolhouse, gazing through the walls
where his brother was currently studying with her. A chill ran down his spine and his hand
moved to his chest. The spot where she’d hit him still hurt a full day later. Worse though, was
the pain banging around inside his head whenever he thought about the fight the day before.
No, a voice in his head interrupted his own train of thought. It wasn’t a fight. Not after she
showed up. She was able to take him, the toughest guy in the world, down with one punch,
and tanked a punch from Buttercup that would have probably knocked him out if she
managed to get around his shield. The demon guy was right. There was no “fight” against
Blossom. There was just crushing, humiliating, inevitable defeat.
Butch reached up to his head, grabbing fistfuls of his hair. The pain was getting worse, like a
bell ringing too loud. His eye twitched, causing his head to jerk. Biting down so hard it made
his teeth hurt, he lurched forward to smash his head against the ground to make it stop.
“Wait!” A songlike voice rang out, just loud enough to be heard through the cacophony
raging inside his skull.
A pair of soft, but strong hands caught his shoulders, stopping him in his tracks. Butch
opened his eyes, his vision clearing to reveal a blacktop covered in colorful chalk drawings.
He looked up at the Powerpuff girl still holding him. His eye twitched when she laughed
sheepishly and let him go.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to just grab you like that, but, I didn’t want you to hurt yourself,”
Bubbles giggled and pointed at the ground, “Well, and I didn’t want you to ruin my
drawings.” She rested her mitts on her hips and sighed like an exasperated mother, “I lost
years of work yesterday…”
Butch blinked and looked at the ground again. She was right. Yesterday this part of the
playground was absolutely covered in doodles and swaths of color. Today, it was mostly
black, with just a scant few drawings immediately in front of him.
“You…” Butch shook his head to clear out the ringing, “You did all of those?”
“Yup!” Bubbles chirped, dropping to her knees and resuming her work. She hummed and
rocked her head back and forth as she worked. Her hand seemed to move without any rhyme
or reason, creating curves, lines, and swirls.
Butch blinked, his eye lightly twitching. With a grunt, he dropped to the ground, watching
her work. Something about her movements drew him in. He found himself rocking back and
forth in rhythm with her. Before long, his low, rough voice joined hers, humming along
uncertainly to her song.
“Do you like drawing?” Bubbles asked.
Her question caught him off guard, snapping him out of his trance.
“Huh? Oh, uh…I dunno, drawing’s a girl thing. I never tried.” Butch admitted.
“It’s not a girl thing,” Bubbles corrected him, giggling, she pushed her pack of chalk toward
him, slipping an orange from the pouch to continue her work, “It’s relaxing and fun! You can
draw whatever you want. It can be a pretty picture, something nice like an animal, or it can
just be how you feel.”
Butch watched her movements again, his eyes flicking toward the chalk.
“What you feel? What do you mean?” He asked.
“Well, I was feeling lonely today, so I started with some blue,” she motioned to the center of
her drawing, which was a swirl of blue, “But, then I realized that even though I lost all of
those drawings, I get to start over! So that made me feel orange and yellow,” she resumed
surrounding the blue with waves of orange and lines of yellow.
“But, what is it?” he asked, trying to parse the unreadable shapes.
“It’s just how I feel, it can look however I want,” Bubbles explained. She turned to Butch
with a smile, “Do you wanna try?”
The Rowdyruff boy looked at the chalk, then at the black canvas in front of him.
“It can just be…what’s in my head?” he asked, grabbing a piece of chalk.
“Mmhmm, anything you want!” Bubbles waited until Butch started drawing before returning
to her own drawing.
For several minutes, the two sat in silence. After some time, Bubbles began to sing again. She
was a bit disappointed when Butch didn’t join in. Glancing in his direction, she saw that he
was completely focused on his drawing. He was so focused that she actually jumped when he
spoke up.
“Why are you off by yourself? Don’t you got friends to play with?”
Bubbles’ song wavered. Before answering, she reached for her blue chalk again.
“All of my friends are in second grade now,” she answered, “I, um, made some friends in
class last year, but then we got held back again. So, this year I just thought…I don’t wanna
lose another bunch of friends. So I just play with my sisters, or by myself.”
Butch looked up, catching sight of Bubbles wiping away a tear. Her hand left behind a streak
of blue on her cheek. His eye twitched and he grabbed a piece of red chalk.
“That sucks. Why’re you still here? Aren’t you all, like, super smart?”
Bubbles giggled, “Blossom is super smart. Me and Buttercup are just regular smart,” her
smile faded. She began drawing over the orange and yellow with blue, “Saving the town
causes us to miss so much school that Ms. Keane has to hold us back…”
“What?” Butch turned to her, wiping sweat from his brow, leaving behind a streak of green
on his forehead and in his hair, “That’s super dumb. That’s like, dumber than Boomer dumb.”
Bubbles looked up at him. The moment she saw his face, her hands flew to her mouth to
smother a flutter of giggles.
“Be nice to your brother. He’s trying his best.” Bubbles looked at the schoolhouse and
beamed, “With Blossom helping him, he’ll be caught up with everyone else in no time.”
Seeing Butch set his chalk down, she moved to sit beside him to get a better look at his
drawing.
There was a dark green circle with thick lines in the middle. Inside was a blur of reds, blues,
oranges, yellows, and purples, drawn in angry, jagged lines bouncing around the inside of the
bubble. Outside the green circle were even more angry, jagged colors, aimed at the circle like
they were attacking it. There were only a few light blue lines on the outside. There were
more, thicker light green lines. But, the most prominent was a giant streak of pink. It was the
only color that broke the perfect, thick lines of the dark green circle.
“It looks stupid,” Butch muttered.
“It looks noisy and angry and confused,” Bubbles said, watching how his head jerked when
his eye twitched. She rested a hand on his arm and the twitching stopped. He turned to her
and she smiled, “But, it doesn’t look stupid.”
While the rest of the class hurried outside to play, Blossom and Boomer remained behind.
The pair were seated at the boys’ desk, while Ms. Keane watched dutifully from her desk as
she worked on grading homework and preparing the next day’s lesson.
It was taking all of Blossom’s concentration to not let Boomer know how uncomfortable she
felt. Every time she looked at him, her mind flashed back to the previous days and she felt a
surge of anger and embarrassment. Clearing her throat, she glanced up at Ms. Keane.
“So, um…” Blossom began, “You really don’t have to do this if you don’t want…” She was
shocked when Boomer shook his head.
“No, uh, it’s okay.” He furrowed his brow, picking up his pencil and staring at a worksheet
that Ms. Keane had given him. While classwork wasn’t his favorite, the thought of going
outside and possibly running into Bubbles made this the better alternative, “I wanna do this.”
Blossom watched him, surprised by the intensity in his gaze. For a fleeting moment, she
noticed a surge of familiar heat from him when he looked toward the playground. It faded
just as quickly as it had come. She’d felt something similar when he approached their desk in
the morning.
“Alright. So, we’re going to start from the very beginning. Which letters do you know?” she
asked, directing his attention to the first section of the paper, “Just draw a circle around the
ones that are familiar.”
Boomer popped the eraser of his pencil into his mouth, eyes scanning the rows. After a long
pause, he looked up at her.
“What’s a circle?”
Blossom sighed and turned to Ms. Keane again. She bit her lip to hide her smile when the
teacher offered her a world weary sigh, holding her head. The redhead cleared her throat and
picked up her own pencil.
“Alright, let’s start with these three shapes. This is a circle. See how it’s round and doesn’t
have any points?”
As she drew each shape, she waited for him to repeat the action. While his handwriting was
terrible, owing to his inability to read, his ability to draw was actually shocking. Blossom
marveled at how each shape he drew was almost identical to hers. Eventually, as they
continued, she sat up in her chair and brushed her hair away from her face. As they moved on
to letters, she leaned in a bit closer, watching his face as they continued.
There was no denying that Boomer was uneducated, but she was impressed with how earnest
he was about the lesson. Every so often, he would glance toward the playground and that
same heat would return. But, as soon as she redirected his attention back to the worksheet,
the heat faded and the harsh light in his eyes dulled.
“Okay so…” Boomer furrowed his brow in total concentration. His pencil moved uneasily,
filling in one letter after another, “B…O…O…M…E…R. Boomer, that’s my name, right?”
Blossom nodded, “That’s right! Great job, Boomer!”
Slowly blinking his eyes, Boomer turned toward her, his unsure blue eyes meeting her
beaming pink ones. She was smiling, but it was different. The one she had before the boys
walked in was small, quickly fading. The one she wore when she offered to tutor him was
forced and uncomfortable. But, this…this one was real. And it was just for him.
Boomer swallowed the lump forming in his throat and turned back to his worksheet with
renewed determination. He didn’t know why, but he could feel heat on his cheeks. He
couldn’t look away when she brushed her hair away from her face. He could feel his heart
racing in his chest, but different from how it felt when he was fighting.
“I did it right?” He asked in a small voice.
“You did.” Blossom replied, still smiling, “Do you want to keep going, or is that enough for
today?”
The blue-eyed boy snatched his pencil and, tongue poking from his lips, began sounding out
the letters in the next question. He had no idea what had come over him, or why he suddenly
felt so compelled to try harder. What he did know was it had something to do with that smile.
He wanted her to keep smiling just for him.
For the rest of the day, it almost felt like things were normal. Whatever Brick and Buttercup
had gotten into at recess, it had quelled the Rowdyruff leader’s need to be disruptive. Instead,
he and Buttercup spent most of the afternoon trash talking each other at a volume that only
their siblings could hear. While this was less intentionally malicious than Brick’s usual antics,
it did cause Bubbles to have a giggle fit on more than one occasion.
Boomer, on the other hand, seemed laser-focused on trying to follow the lesson. His eraser
had been gnawed to non-existence, but the papers he turned in were noticeably more
presentable than they had been the day before. Generally speaking, his only correct answer
was his name, but Ms. Keane was thrilled to see that in just an hour he’d learned how to spell
it correctly, and had mastered the use of those letters. He kept quiet, but he wasn’t subtle
about glancing in the direction of the Powerpuff Girls’ desk.
In no time at all, the bell rang and class was dismissed for the day. At the Powerpuff Girls
desk, Buttercup quickly turned to Blossom.
“Hey, Sis. Think we can get some training in? There’s something I really wanna practice with
you.” Hearing someone approach their desk, Buttercup turned, surprised to see Boomer
again, “Yo, what do you want, Boomer?”
Hearing his name, Blossom looked up, tilting her head.
“Did you need something, Boomer?” she asked.
Just the sound of her voice was enough to cause Boomer’s heart to race and his mouth to dry
out. He cleared his throat and scratched his messy hair.
“Uh…um, I wanted to ask if…we could study more.” Feeling his face heating up and his
nerves getting the best of him, he decided to just keep talking, “Cuz, like, it was really cool of
you to, uh, help me. And I’m, um, I don’t wanna be the, uh, dumbest anymore.”
Blossom felt a swelling in her chest. Like a wrecking ball colliding with her emotions, she
suddenly felt overwhelmed by the honesty in his request. Something stirred in her: the new
sense of purpose and the distraction from the thoughts that had been plaguing her when left
alone to her thoughts. She swallowed those feelings, struggling to find her voice.
Buttercup spoke up, “Dude, that’s cool, but Blossom and I were gonna-” Before she could
continue, Blossom spoke up.
“Yeah, I’d be happy to, Boomer.” Blossom replied, rising to her feet.
“What?! Bloss, seriously? C’mon, I really need your help, too!” Buttercup insisted.
“Buttercup, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Blossom apologized, taking her hand
in both of hers, “Tomorrow, okay? We’ll definitely train tomorrow.”
Buttercup only lasted a moment under Blossom’s pleading gaze. Dropping back into her seat
and glaring at the table, she sighed and nodded. Truthfully, she hadn’t seen the redhead look
so excited about anything all week. As much as she hated to share her with a Rowdyruff boy,
she wasn’t about to get between Blossom and a new kind of homework.
“Yeah, alright. But, you owe me!” Buttercup tried to remain stern, but couldn’t resist giggling
when Blossom flung her arms around her and hugged her tight.
“I know, I promise!” Blossom snatched up her things then paused in front of the desk.
Bringing her hand to her chin, she looked around the room. Her face lit up as an idea struck
her, “Let’s go, Boomer, I know just the place!”
Blossom hurried to Ms. Keane’s side, waiting until she finished saying goodbye to one of the
students before speaking up.
“Ms. Keane, Boomer and I are going to go study at the library. Is that alright?” she asked,
hands folded in front of her and wearing her best puppy dog eyes.
“Oh, you are?” Ms. Keane’s shock was quickly replaced by mirth, overjoyed at the sight of
Blossom, the normal Blossom, shining so brightly, “Alright, you can go. Just be home in time
for dinner at 5, alright?” She was taken aback when Blossom threw herself in her arms,
hugging her tight.
“I will, I promise!” Blossom assured her. Pulling away, she grabbed Boomer’s hand,
“Alright, follow me!” Before he could protest, Blossom took off into the air with the blond
Rowdyruff boy in tow.
Back at the girls’ desk, Buttercup rested her head on her folded arms, sighing. As Brick
hovered by, the pair locked eyes. A scowl crossed Buttercup’s lips, but there was a
competitive playfulness to the expression. She rolled her eyes when Brick stuck his tongue
out at her and laughed.
“Buttercup, I can train with you, if you want,” Bubbles offered. “It’s been a really long time
since it was just the two of us. It should be fun!”
“Hey, where’s my idiot brother?” Brick asked, interrupting Buttercup’s response, “Where’d
he go with Pinky Puff?”
Without missing a beat, Bubbles chimed in, “They’re gonna go study at the library. Boomer
had a lot of fun learning from Blossom today!”
Brick snorted and doubled over laughing.
“Are you serious? Oh man, that’s so dumb! He’s such a loser!” Brick laughed, “Hey Butch!
Did you hear that?” The red-eyed ruff’s expression fell, replaced by a scowl, “Butch, you
listening to me?”
Back at the Rowdyruff Boys’ table, Butch was sprawled out and snoring, a trail of drool,
tinged with chalk, dripping from the edge of the table. He’d never fully woken up after
naptime.
Brick growled and crossed his arms, flying over to the table. He gave it a kick hard enough to
lift it, and Butch, off the ground. Even after tumbling back down, Butch continued to snore.
“Butch wake up!” He shouted.
Bubbles flew over to the table, glaring at Brick.
“Do you always have to be a huge jerk? Can’t you ever be nice?” she chastised. She frowned
when he laughed in response.
“Why would I be nice? I’m the baddest guy in Townsville!”
Bubbles ignored him and floated to Butch’s side, gently shaking him.
“Butch, Buuuutch,” she sang softly, “Wake up! Class is over.”
The Rowdyruff leader’s smug grin faded, replaced by a look of disbelief when his brother
snorted and sat up.
Wiping the drool off his face, Butch looked around in confusion. When he spotted Bubbles,
he yawned and snickered.
“You’ve got chalk on you,” he pointed out, gesturing to the colorful streaks of blue, yellow,
and orange on her cheeks and forehead.
Bubbles giggled, “You do too, it’s all smeared.”
Butch looked at the colored drool on his hand and then touched his face. Snorting again, he
started laughing.
Brick watched the exchange with a growing fury bubbling in his chest. What in the world
happened today? Just one day and suddenly his brothers were both playing kissy-face with
the Powerpuff Girls. He flinched when Buttercup shoved past him. His hand instinctively
flew to his head, making sure his hat was still in place. The dark heat inside flickered, but
didn’t go out. With a snarl, he glared at Butch.
“C’mon Baron of Berserk, we got things to do!” He barked. Without waiting, Brick grabbed
Butch by the scruff of his shirt and dragged him out of his chair.
“Oh, uh, later,” Butch called back to Bubbles as he was dragged out of the building.
The blonde looked up at her sister, her arms crossed and a bemused look on her face.
“Since when are you and him friends?” she asked, with only a bit of judgment in her tone.
Bubbles giggled and shrugged.
“We just talked and drew on the blacktop. He’s not so bad when he’s not, y’know, being
bad.” She giggled again and this time Buttercup joined her.
The Danger Grid was awash with flashes of green streaks and sparks. Sitting at the control
desk, Robin leaned forward on her hands, watching her best friends zip around their training
room. Or rather, she watched Bubbles stand mostly still while Buttercup shot around, only
appearing for brief moments before vanishing again. She rubbed her eyes, feeling as dizzy as
she was sure Bubbles felt trying to keep up with the green-eyed puff’s impossible speed.
The light show ended when Buttercup came to a halt, panting and doubled over. She looked
up, wiping sweat away from her face, glancing between the window and Bubbles.
“So? Did you see it?” she asked breathlessly.
Bubbles looked at the window and motioned for Robin to come inside. Once she joined them,
the pair traded a look before turning back to Buttercup.
“Well, you see,” Bubbles began.
Robin continued, “You’re really, really, fast. So, it’s kinda hard to see anything.”
Buttercup groaned and fell back onto the ground, glaring at the ceiling.
“Brick said he can see when I change direction. Like, there’s a window where I’m not
moving before I can move again,” she explained.
Bubbles nodded. She laid down beside Buttercup, with Robin by her side.
“Oh, I see what you mean. Yeah, it’s too fast for me to react to, but I can see it.”
“Actually,” Robin interjected, “I think I can see it, too.”
Burying her face in her hands, Buttercup groaned even louder.
“That’s how he kept hitting me. And I bet it’s super obvious to Blossom because of her
Focus,” she murmured, “It’s so hard to change direction when I’m going that fast. Like, it
feels like I’m going to rip in half if I don’t stop. I just didn’t think it was that obvious.”
Without thinking, Bubbles’ hand slid to the side. Her tummy fluttered when she found
Robin’s hand waiting for it.
“Is that why you don’t go faster?” Robin asked.

Buttercup let her hands drop and nodded.
“Yeah…well, that and things get weird when I go faster.”
“What do you mean? You never told me about that.” Bubbles asked.
Buttercup sighed, “I talked to Blossom about it, and like…so I call it Hyperlight Speed
because I can actually go like, stupid fast. But, if I start going past the speed of light, it causes
like…weird time stuff to happen,” she groaned and rolled onto her side, glaring at the door, “I
wish Blossom was here, she could explain it better. Like, if I go fast enough I can see myself,
like before I moved. It’s like…I dunno how to explain it.”
Robin sat up, wearing an excited grin.
“You go back in time?” she asked.
Buttercup sat up as well.
“Something like that. I was afraid of what might happen if I go faster, so I just decided I
wouldn’t go that fast anymore. I guess I did the same thing with turns. It hurt so much I
figured I shouldn’t do it.” She looked over at Bubbles, smiling when her sister gave her hand
a reassuring squeeze.
“Well, we can help you learn how to turn!” Bubbles exclaimed, “I’d be a terrible sister if I let
Brick keep beating you at dodgeball.” She squealed and giggled when Buttercup tugged her
into a headlock, messing up her hair.
“Yeah, you would!” Buttercup let her go and jumped back to her feet, “But first, I want you
to teach me that sick move you and Blossom used to beat Mojo last week.”
Bubbles remained where she’d fallen on the ground. Now it was her turn to groan.
Robin scooted over to Bubbles, rubbing her back.
“Oh, was it the Sonic Screwdriver?” She asked. She giggled and smiled knowingly when
Bubbles groaned again.
Buttercup rested her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow.
“C’mon, it can’t be that bad, Bubbles. I wanna learn how to do it. Just think, we could totally
surprise Blossom the next time we fight Aku!” Despite her enthusiasm, Buttercup was met
with yet another groan.
“I hate it,” Bubbles whined, “It makes me dizzy and my tummy queasy.”
“Ugh! Just try! Maybe we can do it better and it won’t make you feel sick?” Buttercup
insisted, standing over Bubbles and holding out her mitt.
Bubbles peered up at her, doing her best to look pathetic. When that failed, she sighed and
accepted Buttercup’s hand. She giggled as her sister flung her into the air. Landing in the
middle of the room, Bubbles cleared her throat and did her best impression of Blossom.
“Now, Buttercup. To perform the Sonic Screwdriver, you must understand two principle
concepts. First, the theory of inertia, and secondly, the propeller effect. Then you can-”
Bubbles eventually cracked up, bursting into giggles alongside Buttercup and Robin. Still
laughing, she began again, “Um, so basically, the way it works is we link arms, and then sort
of…fly at each other in a drill shape.”
She was cut short by Buttercup waving her hands.
“Yeah, yeah, I saw you guys do it, I got this. So I’m just gonna fly at you, you hold onto me
and then we spin in the same direction? Got it!” Buttercup moved to the other side of the
room and took up a running stance, “Are you ready?”
Bubbles threw one last pleading look at Robin, who just grinned and flashed her a thumbs up,
mouthing ‘You got this.’ Realizing she had no way out, Bubbles held her arm out, bracing
herself.
“Ready…”
“Alright, here I come!” With that, Buttercup launched herself at Bubbles in a flash of sparks.
Her arm was linked around Bubbles’ before the blonde could fully scream.
“Too fast! Too fast! I’m not ready!” Bubbles shrieked. It was too late. Buttercup gave
Bubbles’ arm a tug and began flying around her. Holding on as tight as she could, Bubbles
tried to match Buttercup’s pace. They managed a couple rotations before getting out of sync.
Instead of forming a drill, Bubbles was flung across the room, crashing into the far wall. She
slid, unmoving to the ground, where she promptly curled up into a fetal position.
“Bubbles!” Buttercup was also thrown out of the spin, but was able to right herself, only
landing on her bottom for a second before rushing to her sister’s side, “Oh gosh, I’m sorry,
Bubbles. Was that too fast? What did I do wrong?”
The blonde mumbled something unintelligible.
“Bubbles?” Buttercup leaned in until her head was next to her sister’s.
“...hate this move…” Bubbles mumbled again. She sat up suddenly, hands flying to her
mouth. Eyes wide with panic, she scanned the room as bile rose in her throat. To her relief,
Robin had left and brought a waste basket to her side. Bubbles wasted no time doubling over
the basket, throwing up.
“There, there, you’ll be okay.” Robin cooed, rubbing Bubbles’ back.
Shamefully, Buttercup took a seat on Bubbles’ other side, rubbing her arm sheepishly.
“Sorry, I really screwed that up…”
Bubbles mumbled something unintelligible again.

Robin and Buttercup both leaned in closer.
“...try again, but slower this time…” Bubbles choked out, flashing Buttercup an earnest, but
weary smile.
After rinsing her mouth and getting a fresh trash bag for the waste basket, the two were in the
center of the room again.
The Townsville Public Library was a relatively small, out of the way retreat for the
bookworms and scholars of the city. Despite its impressive collection and friendly staff,
patronage had never been stellar. There was, of course, one exception. A constant visitor
whose presence bestowed the cozy locale with a world-class prestige. While the library had
served in the meteoric rise of some of Townsville’s most brilliant minds, its current claim to
fame was being the getaway for the leader of the Powerpuff Girls.
Blossom never tired of the musty scent of old books and the calm, relaxing atmosphere. Few
things gave her the sort of peace she found curled up in a comfy chair and losing herself in a
good book. Hidden away near the back of the small building, she and Boomer had a table,
and most of the library, to themselves.
“You got it! Great job, Boomer! Now, let’s talk about numbers after ten.” Though it had been
over an hour, Blossom’s hushed voice still held the Rowdyruff boy’s attention. As she
bounced between subjects to keep him from getting bored, she could tell that he was hanging
on her every word. And, much to her surprise, he wasn’t only hanging on, he was grasping
her explanations. Slowly, for sure, but bit by bit, she could see a dim light growing brighter
behind his normally vacant eyes.
“Uh huh…” Boomer nodded along, pencil clutched in one hand while his cheek rested on the
other. For the first time since arriving, he realized that he hadn’t felt the devil’s fire since
leaving the school. Whenever his mind started to drift to darker thoughts, her voice chased
them away and brought him back to the present. When his fists felt restless and he felt the
urge to break something, all it took was a single brush of her hand against his to settle him
down.
“Yes! You did it!”
Boomer looked up from his paper, his heart racing and his stomach doing backflips when he
caught sight of her smile again. Her smile for him, he thought with a grin.
As the time ticked by and the light from the nearby window began to dim, Blossom found
herself wishing they could stay longer. Removed from his brothers, Boomer wasn’t bad
company. It wasn’t easy teaching him, but it wasn’t painful either. As long as she had a
problem in front of her looking for a solution, she couldn’t hear the whistle rising in the back
of her mind.
Glancing up from their work, Blossom felt a tremor in her chest and, for the briefest of
moments, the library was bathed in red. Blinking her eyes and opening them to another
simple spelling problem cleared it, but it was happening more with each passing minute. She
could feel the heat and electricity thrumming in her chest.
“Hm? What was that?” she asked, realizing that Boomer had been speaking.
“I just said, didn’t Ms. Keane say you had to get home before it, uh, got dark?” Boomer
peered past her at the window, “It’s getting kinda dark.”
A powerful thump of heat echoed through Blossom’s body, just beneath her skin. She looked
down at the pencil that she’d crushed into splinters. She wasn’t ready to go just yet. She
didn’t want to be alone without a problem to focus on.
“Oh, um…yeah, you’re right.” Blossom spoke quickly, the warmth from before gone,
“You’re right, I should…I should be getting home.” She blinked and the room turned red. She
blinked again and it was normal.
“Okay!” Boomer began shoving his papers into his backpack. He paused after a moment,
looking back at her, “Can we do this again?” He held his breath, praying she’d say yes. He
breathed again when she turned to him and flashed him a smile.
“Of course we can! I have to train with Buttercup tomorrow, but we could always get
together for a little bit on Saturday if you wanted?” She giggled, the sound clashing with the
shrieking siren in her head, when he nodded enthusiastically, leaping from his seat.
“Totally!” he shouted.
Blossom shushed him, tugging him out of the air.
“Not so loud! Remember? Other people might be trying to read.”
“O-oh, r-right, sorry,”
The pair collected their belongings and made their way to the door. Blossom paused at the
desk to wish the librarian a good night. Stepping into the cool evening air, she clutched at the
straps of her own backpack, watching the world grow hazy as Boomer hovered into the sky.
“Um, thanks again, Blossom. I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow?” Boomer beamed one last time
when Blossom nodded.
“Of course! Have a good night, Boomer. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” The redhead
watched as he flew off in a streak of dark blue light. The sun was continuing to set, casting
the sky in a beautiful sea of purples and oranges. Taking to the sky herself, Blossom didn’t
dare open her eyes, afraid of what she might see.
The patrol car pulled up to the dark street, a pair of officers exiting the vehicle with their
weapons already drawn. The station had just radioed in a distress call from one of the busier
ends of town. What would have normally been a routine stop instead felt like something out
of a horror movie as the specter of the Laughing Shadow hung over the entire city.
“Think we should call Galloway?” One of the officers, a taller man in his early twenties,
asked as they stepped into the apartment building.
It was a dump, even for Citiesville standards. The first floor was littered with old newspapers
and discarded fast food wrappers. One look at the stairs made the duo decide to opt, instead,
for the elevator. Piling into the metal box, with its damp carpet that smelled musty and sour,
the other, a shorter man who used his police cap to hide his bald spot, gave an exaggerated
sigh and shook his head.
“Nah, probably just some kids pulling a prank.” Despite his insistence that it was nothing
serious, he still kept his gun clutched in both hands and held near his chest.
As the elevator dinged floor after floor, the air seemed to grow stale as they ascended. The
taller officer swallowed nervously, gripping his pistol tight, while his other hand reached for
his radio. He froze when his partner shook his head.
“Don’t. If we’re wrong, we’ll never hear the end of it.” the bald one assured him.
The tall man drew in a long, shaky breath, more concerned about what would happen if they
were right.
At an unassuming, vacant apartment complex in the Eastside, just a few hundred feet from
the entrance to the prison, a group had gathered to play a game of cards. Situated in the lobby
of the building, the six of them sat around a round table, a halo of smoke above them and
drained beer bottles littering the floor. They’d been going for a couple hours, and while a
couple were still interested in the game, most of them were more interested in the real reason
for meeting.
“Scary stuff happening across the river,” One of the men remarked, a cigar between his teeth,
“Heard from my contact at CVPD there’s a monster going around offing people left and right.
Call.”
Another man with a long, crooked nose, laughed, tossing his cards down.
“I’m out. I heard about that. Couldn’t happen to a better place.” He laughed again before
downing another bottle of cheap beer.
“Says you,” a portly man scoffed, throwing his chips in the pile, “Raise. I had a deal go south
because of that motherfucker. Killed my guy and the person he was meeting. Wish those
bums would do something other than cover up Kaine’s bullshit.”
One of the men was sitting away from the others, next to the entrance to the building. He
yawned, lighting up a fresh cigarette and gazing out at the empty street. It was his turn to
keep watch, but what was the point, he wondered. The Powerpuff Girls were never out that
late and never came to that side of town anyway.
“That’s who we gotta get in on this.” He called back at the others, “Can you imagine what we
could pull off if we had that corrupt piece of shit on our side?” He chuckled to himself,
reaching for a fresh beer. A movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention.
Reaching into his jacket for his gun, he slid to his feet and walked to the door. Pushing it
open, he peered out at the street.
Hearing a sound overhead, he looked up, just moments before his head was splattered on the
sidewalk in a spray of blood, bone, and gray matter. His gun fell to the ground with a clack,
causing the others to jump to their feet.
“Hey, DJ, what is it? You good?” A man with a thin mustache called.
The quintet waited anxiously as the door creaked open. They held their breaths and clutched
their guns as soft footsteps came around the corner.
“What the…what are you doing here?” The man with the cigar asked.
She narrowed her eyes. Her irises were burning bright in the darkness.
The elevator jerked to a halt after reaching the ninth floor. For what felt like an eternity, the
doors remained shut. Then, just when the taller officer reached for the emergency release, the
doors slid open with a long, drawn out creak.
“This is it, be ready for anything,” the bald officer said, stepping out of the elevator and into
the hallway. The first floor had been a wreck, but the hall stretched out in front of them was
like an infinite corridor of shadow so black even the officer’s flashlight couldn’t penetrate the
darkness. The tall officer jumped when the elevator doors creaked shut behind them.
“Easy. Nothing to be afraid of, just a routine stop.” The bald officer reassured him. Despite
the confidence in his voice, his flashlight shook as he made his way down the hall.
The duo watched the doors, passing by 901, 902, 903, and so on. Halfway down the hall, they
passed by an alcove with a pair of old vending machines. One used to have drinks, but all of
the labels had been torn off and the only thing resembling a beverage was a crushed, empty
can on the ground. The other may have once housed a variety of snacks, but that was even
longer ago. Everything inside now was rotted or stale.
The tall officer shined his flashlight into the alcove, searching for anything out of the
ordinary.
“Holy shit.”
His partner’s voice snatched his attention back, the beam of his light frantically searching the
dark. In his frantic search, he caught a glimpse of a tall form at the end of the hallway.
However, when he tried to shine light on it again, the beam began to flicker.
“Hey! Come out with your hands up, CVPD!” The bald cop shouted. He took a step forward,
but froze when the piercing screech of metal against metal echoed through the hall. “Oh fuck
me!” He turned to his partner, “Call for backup now!”
The tall cop’s body refused to listen to him as the shadows at the end of the hallway were lit
up by a pair of searing, red flames. In the darklight glow, he could see an inhumanly wide
grin spread across the figure’s face.
“Riley! Fucking call for back-” the bald officer’s words cut off, replaced by a voiceless,
gurgling sound by long, thin fingers like razors ripping through his throat. The burning eyes
and wicked grin turned the officer, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. The face leaned in
until it was nose to nose with him. Then, unceremoniously, it threw him to the ground.
The tall officer watched in horror as his partner tried to reach for him. The Laughing
Shadow’s claws tore his outstretched arm to shreds. His partner’s strangled cry reminded him
to breathe, his breaths coming in short, rapid gasps. Looking up, he found himself staring into
those burning eyes again.
Its grin was even broader.
“Run.”
The hail of bullets that would have torn through any other intruder did nothing at all to stop
her assault. She gave them no warnings and no demands. Before the first trigger had even
been pulled, she shot across the room in a streak of rose red light, her tiny, powerful fist
ripping through the first person she hit. The splatter of blood and spray of entrails was the
wake-up call the others needed to realize what was happening.
She wasn’t here to arrest them.
The redhead looked down at her blood-drenched arm, unfazed by the bullets buzzing around
her like gnats. Peering into the eyes of the man she’d just struck, she twisted her body
around, a kick tearing what was left of him in half. She landed with the grace of a ballerina,
slowly licking her lips clean.
In seconds, two of them lay dead at her feet, and the four remaining had exhausted their
bullets. She drew in a breath, her eyes opening wider. As her brain began to process every
sensation at light speed, time slowed to a stop around her.
One of the men was reaching for his back pocket. A quick flash of her X-Ray Vision revealed
that he was going for a knife. Another was staring at the corpse that was about to land beside
her, screaming as he held his head. The third was looking at the table, the twitch in his
muscles suggesting he was going to reach for an empty bottle. The last was flinching in the
direction of the door. Based on the tension in his legs and the way his momentum was
shifting, he was planning to run.
There was no chance he’d make it, but, she thought as her lips pulled back into a wicked grin,
it was better to send a message.
Before the fleeing man could start to take a step, a blast of searing heat ripped his leg from
his body, spraying those around him with blood. As he fell, he saw her now standing over
him. As she drew her fist back, the smile remained on her face.
The officer tore through the hallway, his flashlight abandoned, his gun clenched so tight his
hand was beginning to hurt. His chest was starting to hurt. His legs were throbbing. Just how
long was the hallway? Had they really gone that far? It wasn’t possible.
Those thoughts were quickly drowned by the sound of screeching metal quickly approaching
from behind. Any notion of bravery or duty vanished as he began to scream, crying out for
help. The elevator was still so far away and, he realized, the rusted doors were shut. It had
taken minutes for the doors to open before. The screeching sound was getting louder. He
could hear the shadow’s laugh just over his shoulder.
“NO!” The officer crashed into the elevator doors, mashing the button, praying to every god
he’d ever heard of that it would open fast enough. The laughter was getting louder and more
hysterical. And then, as if he was waking up from a dream, the elevator let out a smothered
ding and the doors began to open. At the same time, the laughter vanished, along with the
scraping metal sound.
The officer looked back over his shoulder, panting, tears streaming down his face. He could
see what remained of his partner not ten feet away, his blood painting the walls and carpet a
sick shade of scarlet. The Laughing Shadow, though, was nowhere to be found.
Panting, he hunched over, struggling to catch his breath. When the doors began to close
again, he held them open, still staring at the floor. Something had killed his partner. He
needed to get out before it killed him.
He took a step forward to enter the elevator, but ran into something tall, unmoving, and
impossibly hot. Lifting his eyes, he didn’t even have time to scream before the claws tore his
stomach open. As he slouched to the ground, all he could see were those burning eyes and
that impossible grin. As his ears filled with a ringing silence, the last thing he heard was the
shadow’s wild, cackling laughter.
The Shadow relished the feel of blood on his fingers. His chest pounded with excitement as
he tore the still breathing man open piece by piece. His fear flooded his senses like an
irresistible bouquet of death.
For a moment, his vision flickered and he saw a different room. Instead of two dead cops, he
saw five dead criminals. He could feel her excitement. He could taste her joy. For just a brief
moment, they were one.
“Please! Pl-please don’t, please…” the last man still alive, his legs broken and a rib piercing
his lung, crawled away from the advancing redhead. Dragging himself through the blood of
his business partners, he inched his way toward the exit. Seeing DJ’s headless body sapped
the strength from his arms, leaving him unable to breathe.
She was in no hurry to chase after him. In fact, there was a lilting grace to her step that
almost made it look like she was dancing as she strolled through the gore of the criminals
she’d already dealt with. She paused when he froze in his tracks, tilting her head to get a
better look at his face. The smile she’d worn since her first attack grew even more sinister
when she saw the tears rolling down his cheeks.
The taste of his fear and regret flooded her senses. She couldn’t stop herself from giggling as
she skipped to his side, landing on one foot next to him. In a fluid motion, she kicked him
onto his back and brought her foot down, smashing what remained of his left leg. His howl of
pain sent another rush of heat and electricity out from her chest, until it touched every inch of
her.
She’d never tasted anything as intoxicating as that feeling.
“Pl-please, please, ar-aren’t you one, wuh, one of the good guys?” he pleaded, whimpering
when she walked onto his stomach as if she were walking a tightrope. She paused when she
reached his chest. Her eyes were burning red in the darkness.
“And you’re one of the bad guys,” she replied, the first words she’d spoken since arriving.
There was a cruel playfulness to her voice.
“N-no pl-please I’m, I’m not that bad, I don’t d-dese-”
“Deserve this?” She interrupted. The redhead lifted her leg, stretching her arms out as she
balanced on one foot.
“Ple-please I, I have a-”
“You deserve,” she began, the grin finally leaving her face, replaced by a look of raw,
unrelenting hatred, “ So. Much. Worse. ”
Without another word, she brought her foot down so hard the building shook and a crater
remained where the man had once been.
The Redhead breathed in short, excited gasps. The scent of blood filled her lungs. For a
moment, her vision flickered. She wasn’t in Townsville anymore. She was in a different beat
down apartment complex, her claws ripping the flesh from something that barely resembled a
human.
She could feel his hatred. She could taste his wrath. For just a brief moment, they were one.
Whistling as he adjusted his tie, Aku strolled down a lonely street in Citiesville, following the
mouthwatering scent of meat, cheese and sauce. There was a jump in his step and even the
passersby bumping into him and cursing him did little to affect his mood. No, Aku was
unmoved until the neon sign of “Pizza De Ville” came into view.
The demon practically broke out into a run, throwing the door open as he strolled in.
“Madame Devil! Two of your finest EXTRA THICK pepperoni pizzas please!” Aku called
out, slipping into one of the open seats and undoing his tie.
Odessia laughed, stepping out from behind the register to quickly bring him a drink.
“Mr. Ku, you’re in a fine mood! I love it, honey! Let me get you some cheesy bread while the
pizza cooks.” She chuckled, shuffling back to the kitchen.
“A brilliant idea! Your genius truly knows no bounds, Madame Devil!” Aku cackled, flipping
through the wallets of the officers. His eyes hardened, but his grin remained.
The Rite-on-Time Diner had closed hours ago. However, Ima had a hunch that there might be
business that night. So, she’d broken in and started a pot of hot chocolate, just in case. Sitting
in the lobby, she kicked her leg and gazed out the window, wondering just what kind of
mischief her favorite little heroine was up to.
She didn’t have to wait long, as a brilliant red-pink streak shot across the Townsville skyline,
making its way straight toward the diner. Ima smirked and slid out of her seat, picking up a
towel and unlocking the front door. She couldn’t help giggling when the little girl landed in
front of her, completely drenched in crimson. Placing her hands on her hips, she matched the
little girl’s smile.
“Young lady, what have you gotten yourself into? Look at this mess you’ve made.” She
teased, kneeling down and offering her a towel.
Blossom graciously took it, wiping the blood from her face. She peered up at Ima, wearing
her own wry grin.
“Sorry, I guess I got carried away at work,” she explained with a laugh.
Ima shook her head, brushing Blossom’s hair out of her face.
“What am I going to do with you?” She asked with a mocking sigh.
Blossom bit her lip, looking down at her feet. Gathering her courage, she looked back up.
“Maybe you could…make me some hot chocolate? And…we could talk about it?”
Ima took the towel and cleaned a spot Blossom had missed.
“I thought you’d never ask. Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetie.”
Taking her hand, Ima led her inside, the doors swinging shut behind them.
Treading Water
Chapter Summary
The Professor's journey up the mountain takes a turn for the worst when a phantom from
his past appears to test his resolve. As her sisters find kindred souls in the quickly
changing Rowdyruff Boys, Blossom struggles against the darkness threatening to
consume her every thought. As night draws near, she finds herself faced with an enemy
she cannot defeat.
The Professor collapsed to his knees, arms shaking as they struggled to hold him up.
Breathing in short gasps, he gazed up at the path before him, heart sinking into his aching
stomach.
As if he’d crossed some unseen threshold, the mountain path had changed before his eyes.
Trees became gnarled and rotten, their leaves falling from their jagged branches like ash. The
sky had grown dark, covered by steel gray clouds. The wind had become frigid, its icy fangs
nipping at his face until his chapped lips began to crack. And as the air grew colder, it also
grew thinner, leaving him light-headed and dizzy.
Before him lay a thin ledge across a rocky outcropping. Gazing over the side, his vision
swam and his stomach churned. Through the iron blanket the clouds had formed, he couldn’t
begin to see the bottom. Pressing his back against the side of the mountain, the Professor
closed his eyes and tried to think of anything else.
He thought of his home. Townsville had never seemed more far away. Though he wasn’t
much of an outdoorsman, he longed for a quiet Saturday afternoon at Bonsai Garden Park,
watching the girls play in the water as the sun warmed his tired bones.
The girls, he thought as a weary smile passed his lips. Was this the air they breathed? High
above the clouds, bathing in solar fire, and racing against the wind. When he looked down, he
couldn’t find the ground and he felt nothing but terror. But for them, it was nothing more than
a leap. A slight bend of the knees, then a hop, skip, and a jump to reach Heaven.
His smile wavered as a darkness overtook the sight of the sun in his mind’s eye. He couldn’t
tear his eyes away from the demon’s gaze, burning with a hatred older than man. He had
unleashed that shadow upon the world once more. He had left them alone to fend off its
advance.
Digging his fingers into the cold stone beneath him, the Professor forced himself to his feet,
back still firmly pressed against the rock. His eyes cracked open, wincing from the biting
wind, but resolute in the steadiness of their stare. Taking as deep a breath as he could
manage, the Professor tightened his hold on his satchel and turned to face the mountain path.
He managed a single step before stopping in his tracks, frozen by a terror colder than the
mountain wind.
“Getting pretty cold up here, eh, Utonium?” It was the same sneering voice from before. A
voice that should have been silenced forever.
The Professor turned, his mouth falling open as he found himself nearly face to face with his
old college roommate, Dick Hardly. At one point in his life, the Professor may have called
Hardly his best friend. Those feelings felt like a lifetime ago, replaced by unyielding hatred
for the scumbag who had taken advantage of his girls.
“What’s up, Jimmy? Surprised to see me?” Dick laughed, leaning carelessly against the
mountain.
“You…you should be dead,” came the Professor’s harsh rebuttal.
“Should I?” Dick asked, looking at his manicured fingernails. He looked human again, no
longer changed by the Chemical X he’d swallowed years ago.
“I watched you die. Y-you ate the Chemical X. A-and then those girls turned on you,” the
Professor stumbled through his recount of the other man’s death.
Dick peered up at the Professor over his glasses.
“Jimmy, what’s gotten into you? I thought you’d be thrilled to see your best pal.”
“We are not pals,” the Professor shot back, “You’re a monster.”
Dick narrowed his eyes, “You have got a lot of experience with monsters, don’t you,
Utonium?”
The Professor’s rage faltered. Taking a step back, his heart leapt into his throat when his foot
bumped a rock. He turned, eyes shrinking as they watched the rock tumble through the
clouds. For a brief moment, he could see the dizzying blur that lay beneath.
“What are you t-talking about?” The Professor asked, turning to face Dick after ensuring his
feet were firmly planted on the ground. He flinched, but stood firm when Dick approached
him.
Jabbing a finger into the Professor’s chest, Dick grinned and lowered his voice.
“Don’t play dumb with me, Jimmy.” He laughed when the Professor turned away, making his
way toward the ledge, “You’re really gonna keep doing this, huh, Utonium? You know
someone like you will never make it to the top.”
The Professor shook his head. He paused at the ledge, resisting the urge to look down.
Pressing up against the mountain once more, he began to sidle his way around the curve,
taking small, but sure steps. Sweat poured down his cheeks and stung his eyes; his pack
tugged against his arm as if it weighed a ton, threatening to spill him into the abyss below.
“How many failures did you run into while creating Chemical X?”
The Professor grit his teeth, ignoring him.
Dick continued, “I mean, you were experimenting on pure evil. We’ve both seen what
happens when people, animals, heck, even food mixes with that cheap knock off.”
Though he knew he shouldn’t, the Professor couldn’t resist the urge to look back. Dick was
following him, hands in his pockets and walking along the ledge with inhuman calmness.
“What happened to all of those, ah,” Dick chuckled and smirked, “Failures from the real
deal?”
The Professor refused to answer, focusing instead on crossing the ledge. He held his breath,
seeing the end in sight. Eager to escape his precarious position, he picked up his pace,
pushing through even after nearly losing his footing. Once he was close enough, the
Professor threw himself onto the ground, eyes wide and heart pounding.
His heart skipped a beat when a sarcastic, heavy hand clapped him on the back. Dick was
kneeling beside him, a slimy smirk now stretched across his face.
“Did you ever tell them?” He asked with a sinister chuckle, “About the monsters stuffed in
your closet?”
The Professor pressed his eyes shut and shook his head.
Dick leaned in closer, breathing into the Professor’s ear.
“Did you ever tell them how you got rid of the others?”
The Professor scrambled to his feet, running down the path, refusing to look back. No matter
how far he ran, he could feel him close behind. He could still hear him laughing.
The air inside Mojo Jojo’s laboratory was equal parts stale and searing. Steam forced its way
through cracks in the floor, which had been lowered deep into the volcano. The darkness
consuming the workshop was broken only by the molten glow from beneath the floor, and a
pair of flickering spotlights overhead. Once immaculate countertops were covered in scrap
metal and garbage, carelessly overflowing onto the floor. A series of monitors along the wall
displayed a series of equations and images, overlapping and interchanging in a maddening
way that made it all but impossible to decipher.
Impossible for anyone to understand, save for the monkey scurrying back and forth at the
center of the room. His worn hands worked with a manic determination, trembling as they
grasped a wrench and tightened yet another screw. His lips moved, breathing a din of quiet,
shuddered whispers into the otherwise silent air.
“No, no, no, yes…yes, that will do. It is in place, exactly as it should be, where it was meant
to be, how it needs to be. Yes…” Mojo murmured, shoving a toolbox to the floor to get to the
papers lying beneath. He paid no mind to the loud metal clang of countless instruments
colliding with the floor. He only had eyes for his work.
“This should be the way, is it not? No? Do you really think so? Are you certain?” Mojo
glanced over his shoulder, eyes wide and bloodshot, staring at his own shadow. It loomed
behind him, covering the wall and glaring at him with unyielding menace, “No, that cannot
be it. You must be mistaken. We are mistaken. That is wrong, incorrect, not…”
Trailing off, the simian scientist turned his eyes back to the documents, flipping to another
page. As he skimmed the lines of text and numbers, one of the lights above him came loose,
dropping several feet, caught by thick steel wiring. It dangled to and fro, its weak, dying light
illuminating, for a moment, a colossus towering behind the villain.
Glowing with volcanic heat, its heads gazed down at the floor, jaws opened and waiting for a
chance to devour anything in their path. The crimson glow of its six metal eyes followed him
wherever he went, never blinking, never missing a single step. Beneath it, the floor creaked
and strained against the unworldly weight, tired sheets of metal protecting the beast and its
maker from the hellfire below.
Mojo’s voice silenced the floor’s protests and brought a wicked gleam to the monster’s eyes.
“You…are correct. It must be pure, concentrated. There can be no alternative, no substitute,

no cheap imitation.” Mojo set the papers aside and shuffled to another desk, where his
weapon lay. Once unwieldy and crude in design, it had been refined to a marksman’s dream.
Running his hand across it, he turned the dial from plus to minus, “I must have the original…
but, the only source is…” Mojo nodded, his shadow gazing over his shoulder, whispering in
his ear.
“Yes…yes…I must have them. No…” He turned to the photo of his estranged family. He
touched the broken glass that surrounded his sister’s face, “I must have her.”
“Two more last night…and five more here…” Officer Miguel Perez tucked his newspaper
under his arm and lifted his cup of lukewarm coffee. With a wince and a groan, he shifted his
weight onto his crutch and made his way back to what was serving as his desk for the time
being.
Like all things in Townsville, the Police Station had been destroyed on more than one
occasion. To ensure that the city’s finest were able to continue keeping the peace, a series of
backup locations had been plotted across the city. With the repairs to downtown still
underway and the damage caused by Princess Morebucks' fight with Blossom, the TVPD had
been forced into their least favorite backup location: the Eastside Station.
Perez sat his coffee down and lowered himself into his seat, muttering every curse his
grandfather had taught him when the pain in his side flared up. With only the slightest
hesitation, he popped open the orange bottle on his desk and downed another painkiller.
Though the doctor had insisted he take two weeks off, Perez had refused, eager to get back to
his work and his investigation. He never imagined he’d return the same day Townsville saw
its first homicide since the birth of its defenders. And now, a day later, the bodies had
doubled.
“What’ve you got for me, Galloway?” Perez murmured, shifting through his email. The
strangest thing about the case was that it didn’t seem isolated to Townsville. Across the river
in Citiesville, at nearly the exact same time of night, another bloodbath had taken place. The
method differed between the two, but the timing made it clear this was no coincidence, no
matter how much his counterpart in Citiesville tried to claim otherwise.
The Eastside was dangerous, even in the age of the Powerpuff Girls. But, not like this. The
victims, small-time crooks caught in an act of vandalism and a collection of drug traffickers,
smugglers, and money launderers, had been torn apart by superhuman hands.
Galloway believed it was someone pretending to be a monster in Citiesville. Word around the
station was that it was the Rowdyruff Boys in Townsville.
Perez wasn’t so sure. The proximity of the killings suggested a partnership or coordination to
the crimes, and he knew from experience that the Ruffs weren’t exactly team players. That
said, as nasty as the boys could be, killing wasn’t in their repertoire. Three years of
superpowered brats roaming the Eastside and not a single body had turned up until now.
Not until that demon had appeared last week.
He was sure there was a connection, he just needed time to find it.
“Morning, Perez,” an overly chipper voice distracted the officer, causing him to look up from
his work.
“Hm? Oh, morning, Shomes,” Perez said, looking up at the newcomer leaning on his desk.
Townsville’s lone homicide detective, Harry Shomes, was something of a…well, a joke
around the station. One of the youngest members of the force, he proved himself and flew
through his detective’s exam just to end up spending the last several years hunting for ways
to kill time with no killings to investigate. One of his favorite ways to fill his time was
showing up to crime scenes assigned to other detectives, bugging them and begging them to
let him help.
Perez was shocked to see Shomes’ cleaned up, looking almost presentable aside from the
beanie—a faded old thing with the Townsville High crest proudly displayed on the front—
and his equally faded letter jacket.
“Whatcha up to buddy?” Shomes asked, eyes skimming the newspaper on his desk. Without
waiting for an answer, he snatched it and made a show of opening it to the page detailing the
murders, “Crazy case, huh? Man, can you believe it? People being murdered in Townsville?”
Shomes laughed and shook his head, dropping the paper back on Perez’s desk, “I never
thought I’d see the day.”
“Yup,” Perez hid behind his coffee, avoiding the piercing glare behind the young detective’s
friendly facade, “Heard the guys saying it’s the boys.”
Shomes laughed, “C’mon, you don’t actually believe that right?”
Perez paused, taking another sip of his coffee.
“You don’t think so?” He asked.
“We both know it wasn’t them.” Shomes replied. He slid off the officer’s desk, shoving his
hands into his pockets, “Perez, c’mon, man, don’t do this to me. You’ve always been cool,
don’t steal my first case in three years.”
There was no animosity in his voice. He was being completely earnest, with a healthy dash of
desperation.
“Not trying to step on your toes, Detective. Just, following a hunch and I think the murders
are part of it.” Perez jumped at the sound of metal scraping against the floor. He moved his
crutch out of Shomes’ way so the detective could take a seat beside him.
There was a sparkle in the young man’s eyes that the officer hadn’t seen in a long, long time.
It was infectious.
“Talk to me, what’ve you got?” Shomes asked.
Perez cleared his throat, pushing aside his papers. Finding a thumb drive on his desk, he
snatched it up and popped it into his computer. Several files began to open, causing the fan in
his old computer to roar.
“I’ve been monitoring the strange dip in crime over the last year. Since the girls showed up,
crimes have been stopped more often than not, but they remained constant across the first two
years. Then, here, around January, they just bottom out. Nothing, not even a jaywalker…until
last Friday.”
Shomes nodded, steepling his fingers.
“When Aku popped up and knocked our girls down.”
Perez chanced a look at the detective. Everyone else he’d ever brought this up to had played
it off or wrote it off as a coincidence. But, there wasn’t the usual derision or disbelief in the
young man’s voice, or in his focused gaze. Realizing he was still waiting for a response,
Perez quickly nodded in return.
“Right, Aku shows up, and suddenly crime starts happening again. We’ve had monster
attacks and Mojo plots, but after Friday, we had the first Fuzzy incident in years, a rampaging
robot, and Princess Morebucks all attacking. And it’s not like anything before. They were all
different, darker, as if-”
“As if Aku was behind it all. So, you’re thinking he may be behind the murders as well?”
Perez shook his head.
“I’m still not sure. But-”

“Given the synchronous murders in Citiesville and the differing, but equally brutal, methods,
it’s possible that Aku is behind one and he has another accomplice—the next minion he’s
training up to throw at the girls—behind the others.” Shomes chuckled and sat back, tugging
off his beanie and releasing his untameable dirty blond hair, “Man, Perez, why the hell are
they wasting you behind a desk.”
“Not a lot of crimes that need investigating in Townsville,” Perez smirked and sipped his
coffee, “Guess they don’t want to pay two of us to sit around being bored all day.”
Shomes jumped to his feet.
“I’m gonna swing by the crime scenes again, might stop by Citiesville and see if I can’t snag
a peek at theirs too. I’ll let you know what I find out, can I get your number?” Shomes
flipped his phone open, waiting expectantly.
“Oh, uh…yeah,” Perez rattled off his number, still unsure what to make of the detective’s
behavior. His heart skipped when a retreating Shomes called back at him.
“Awesome, I’ll let you know if I find anything, partner.”
When the week started, Ms. Keane looked forward to Friday. The class was having a history
test after recess, which meant they would be having a review in the morning. Maybe it was
wrong to see it how she did, but she’d come to see reviews as a time for Blossom to shine.
She didn’t need to come up with challenging questions or little games to keep the redhead
distracted. The simple thrill of competing to be the first to answer was all it took to delight
the little girl for an entire day.
After Tuesday, those feelings had turned to dread. Day after day, she watched Blossom retreat
further and further into silence, while the rising tension between Buttercup and the
Rowdyruff boys made it all but impossible for the younger kids to pay attention.
“For our first question, what was the name of the first President of the United States?” Ms.
Keane asked, a heavy pit settled in her stomach. It was her turn to experience the rush of
adrenaline and joy when a powerful, fingerless hand shot up to answer the question. “Yes…
Brick?”
“George Washington,” he replied, smirking when she nodded in amazement.
“Um, yes! That’s right. Very good job, Brick. And, thank you so much for raising your hand
this time.” Ms. Keane giggled in spite of herself when the little boy rolled his eyes and
replied with a droll “Yes, teach.”
Clearing her throat, she looked down at her notes. Her eyes flicked to the back corner of the
room. For a moment, she let herself hope that she might hear an excited whisper of “Me, me,
me” and see a pair of sparkling eyes looking back at her.
“Now, who would like to tell me the name of the national monument that depicts four of our
presidents?” Before she finished speaking, a hand in the back of the room shot into the air.
Her excitement wavered, but a swell of pride in her chest quickly caused it to run wild, “Yes,
Buttercup?”
“Mount Rushmore,” Buttercup answered, flashing a grin at the center of the room, where
Brick met her with a playful glare.
“That’s correct! Good job!” Caught up in the moment, Ms. Keane hurried on to the next
question, “Who wrote the Declaration of Independence?”
Her hair blew back as a gale of wind crashed into her. Her eyes darted back and forth
between the pair of hands that had gone up faster than she could follow.
“Um…” Despite her messy hair and the scattering of the papers and pencils from her desk,
she couldn’t stop smiling, “I think…B-” The superpowered duo rose to their feet, hands
waving in a way she’d missed seeing, “-rick was faster?”
“No way!”
“Hah! Thomas Jefferson!”
“That’s correct! Don’t worry, Buttercup, I’m sure you’ll get the next one.” Ms. Keane waited
until both kids were back on the edge of their seats, before continuing, “Let’s try this one.
Which European explorer was the first to discover North America?”
This time, a different hand shot up at the back of the room, just as quick but with a little more
consideration for those around her.
“Oh! Yes, Bubbles?”
The blonde giggled, “It’s Leif Eriksson, Ms. Keane!”
“Very good job, Bubbles! Thank you for participating!” Her heart racing, a broad grin on her
face, Ms. Keane shuffled through her cards.
Question after question, Brick and Buttercup raced to be the first to answer, with Bubbles
cutting the pair off every so often. The tension in the room was gone. Whispers and mutters
of concern had changed to words of encouragement as the other students urged on the hero or
heroine they wanted to see win.
“What is the National Bird of the United States?” Ms. Keane turned to the new hand with a
thrilled nod, “Yes, Butch?”
“Uh…” the Rowdyruff boy held his head, brow furrowed, “It’s um…”
“You can do it, Butch!” Bubbles cheered from across the room.
Her voice seemed to spark a lightbulb in his head.
“Oh, right, the bald eagle, yeah?”

“Great job! That’s right!” Ms. Keane bit her lip, realizing there was only one more question.
As incredible as it was to see the others participating, a cold pit in her stomach that she’d
been ignoring was starting to gnaw at her.
“Alright, this is the last question,” She paused before the first word left her mouth. Taking a
deep breath, she set her notes down and looked up with a hopeful smile, “On what date and
time was the Trinity Test of the Manhattan Project conducted?”
Staring desperately at the unmoving red bow in the back of the room, Ms. Keane felt her
smile quickly fading. Opening her mouth to call her name, she, and everyone else, was
shocked to see another hand go up.
Blinking, mouth agape, Ms. Keane gasped on the breath she’d been holding.
“Um…yes, B-Boomer?”
“Uhhhhh,” the towheaded boy tilted his head back and forth, a look of absolute concentration
on his face, “I think…Blossom told me it was 5:30 in the uh…”
“In the morning,” Blossom spoke up finally, her voice barely a whisper.
“Right! In the morning. And it was on July, uh…six…tenth?”
“Sixteenth.”
“Yeah! Thanks! It was July 16th, 1945!” Boomer exclaimed, jumping to his feet, thrusting his
fist into the air triumphantly.
“B-Boomer…you’re right…you’re right! Very good job, Boomer!” Ms. Keane squealed,
clapping her hands, the pit in her stomach melting into warm lightness as the little boy
beamed.
At the back of the room, her head still down and gaze fixed between her feet, Blossom drew
in a shuddering breath. Her chest was burning and her fists were trembling with barely
contained fury. She could feel the blood from the night before still slick on her skin. She
could feel her head pounding.
“You deserve…
So. Much. Worse.”
The siren starting to howl in her ears paused, replaced by the sound of her sister’s voices and
Ms. Keane’s praise for Boomer. Clearer still, she heard Boomer laugh. Letting out the breath
she’d been holding, a tiny smile crept across her lips.
Boomer took Blossom’s breath away and forced another smile to her face when he asked to
stay in and study through recess again. Huddled at the boys’ desk, sitting in a comfortable
symphony of the scratch of Boomer’s pencil, the ticking of the clock, and the low roar of the
playing outside, the Powerpuff leader sat a bit closer to Boomer today. He hadn’t become a
genius overnight, but his letters were looking sharper and it was taking him less time to
sound his way through a sentence.
“Okay…okay, okay, okay, so, um…” Boomer gnawed on his eraser, sounding out the letters
as he read them, “What…is…the…n-n…”
“Name,” Blossom gently interjected, smiling when Boomer continued.
Ms. Keane had given them the review for the history test, to make sure that Boomer was
prepared to both understand the questions first, and answer them in case he hadn’t been able
to keep up with the rapid-fire answers from the others. It was taking forever to get through
the first question, but, Blossom had noticed with a hint of pride, Boomer had been able to
sign his name without any help from her.
His mumbling voice and the grinding of his teeth against the eraser provided a distraction
from the darker thoughts threatening her conscience. But, there were moments, brief
moments of silence, where she felt herself being pulled away from the present and thrown
into the past.
“Fine, we’ll do this the hard way.”
She blinked her eyes and the desk was replaced by a broken table. Shattered bottles strewn
across the ground, reflecting the streetlamps and the shimmer of blood on the carpet. Her
heart was racing. The air was awash with the sweet scent of death.
“Blossom?” Boomer’s voice called from a lifetime away.
His hand touching her arm dragged her back to the present, to the classroom and the table
where he sat waiting patiently. She breathed out and forced a smile.
“It’s George Washington, remember? Let’s try to spell it. Remember, it starts with a G, not a
J.” She explained, gesturing for him to continue. She watched him draw a G with slow, but
steady strokes. The way his tongue popped out of the corner of his mouth brought a real
smile to her lips, her hand flying to her mouth to smother a giggle.
She breathed in.
Just how hard could I hit him?
How would his blood feel?
It was three years ago. The girls had just defeated a giant octopus. She was grimacing as
Bubbles flung green goo at them after bursting free from the monster. Suddenly a harsh voice
called out. That was the first time she saw them.
Powerful and wicked to the core. When Buttercup charged them and unloaded on the one in
the red cap, the other two ganged up on her, beating her into the ground. That was the first
time that dark, unbridled hatred crept into her thoughts. For a moment, just a moment, she
didn’t care about the city.
She just wanted to hurt them.
“Very good!” Blossom giggled, in the present once again, “You’ve almost got it. Here, let me
show you.” She pressed her shoulder against his, writing out the correct spelling. Her
handwriting was a stark contrast to his, but there was something lovable about his crude
letters beside her perfect lines.
I bet he’d break, just like everything else.
“Hey Blossom, um…is everything okay?” Boomer asked, setting his pencil down.
Blossom closed her eyes for a second. She saw an abandoned hallway, decorated with the
bloody ribbons of a pair of police officers. She turned to Boomer, her lips pursed.
“I’m fine, why do you ask?”
Their faces were closer than she realized. If they’d had noses, they would have touched. She
giggled as Boomer’s cheeks turned red and leaned back.
“Sorry about that. I’m fine, Boomer. I promise.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure, Boomer…actually, there is something,” Blossom sat up, tapping her chin, “Why
do you get so upset when you’re around Bubbles?” She could immediately see the Rowdyruff
boy tense up, his previously peaceful expression replaced by a grimace of rage, “She’s been
nice to you, all of you, since the first day.”
Boomer looked down at his hands, his lips curling into a snarl. Burying his face in his hands,
he fought to force the look from his face.
“I, uh…I don’t know. Just being around her makes me feel so hot inside. Not in a good way,
it makes me so mad, I just want to, like…break her stupid, idiot face.”
I want to break your stupid, idiot face.
“I…I actually understand that feeling.” Blossom admitted, the sirens in her head starting to
howl. Red tinged the corners of her vision. Her cheek was starting to hurt. “Can I ask you a
favor?”
“Hm? What’s that?” Boomer asked, tilting his head in a way that made him look like a
confused puppy.
Blossom smiled and reached for his hand, “Can you try to get along with her? Bubbles means
the world to me,” A searing pain burned on her back, tears pricked at the corners of her eyes,
and words spilled out of her mouth, “I love her so much. If we’re going to be friends, then…
then it would really make me happy if you could be friends, too.”
Silence hung in the air, until-

“Yeah, okay. I’ll try.” Boomer squeaked when she threw herself at him, arms wrapping
around and holding him tight, her cheek pressed against his.
“Thank you so much, Boomer.” Blossom whispered.
Boomer couldn’t find the words to reply. Instead, cheeks steaming and a dumbstruck look on
his face, he simply smiled and nodded.
The battle from the study session had continued outside, transformed from a conflict of
intelligence, to a battle of speed and skill. To protect the others from their show of power, the
dueling pair had taken their fight to the furthest edge of the playground. As it had the day
before, a red streak stood alone against a typhoon of green.
Brick ducked away from another shot from Buttercup, watching the ball vanish, scooped up
into her waiting hands the instant it missed its target. A trail of sweat streaked down the side
of his head, his eyes darting back and forth. The day before, he’d managed to shut her down
at every turn. But now, just twenty-four hours later, he was baffled by just how much she’d
cleaned up her turns. There was still a noticeable lag, one that had allowed him several near
misses, but it wasn’t nearly as easy to exploit as it had been before.
“You’re nuts,” Brick muttered, a grin plastered across his face despite his frustration. With a
growl, he focused on the devil’s fire inside and forced it through his body. The pavement
beneath him began to sizzle as the heat in his skin rose. His growl grew into a roar, blazing
red heat filling the air around him. He lurched forward, his fist hitting the ground so hard it
caused the playground to shake.
“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…” Brick dodged another throw, then ducked yet another. The attacks
were starting to fly faster, but, he thought with a grin, so was he. The world blurred around
him as he shuffled from one foot to another, head swiveling until his eyes locked onto
Buttercup. He pulled his arm back.
Her eyes locked with his. Her arm was pulled back.
Two loud rubber thunks rang out across the playground. Shortly after, two loud thumps hit the
ground. As the dust settled, the two began laughing.
“Ha! I still got you!” Brick laughed, sitting up on his elbows and grinning at her.
“Psh, I let you hit me,” Buttercup shot back, sitting up and slouching forward. Her gasps for
air punctuated each of her breathless laughs.
“You’re full of crap…but you’re pretty cool.” Brick snickered, “Y’know, for a girl.”
Buttercup shook her head, “Oh yeah? Well, that fiery hot hands thing you did was pretty
sick…y’know, for a boy.”
At another abandoned part of the playground, Butch and Bubbles were once again decorating
the blacktop with colorful shapes and squiggles. While the former’s were less jagged and
angry, he noticed that her lines drooped even more than they had before. On top of that, she’d
almost exclusively been using blue and pink.
“Hey, you alright?” Butch asked, not looking up from his drawing. When she didn’t respond,
he sat his chalk down and looked up at her with a frown, “Bubbles?”
“Hm? Oh, sorry…” Bubbles replied. The exuberance and glee she’d spoken with during the
review was gone, replaced by palpable helplessness. She stared at the ground, where she’d
just been scribbling in pink and blue for longer than she could remember.
“What’s up? Is, uh…somethin’ wrong? You…” Butch’s eye twitched. In his head, he could
hear Brick laughing at him, calling him a sissy. His eye twitched again, but he continued,
“You need to, like, I dunno, talk about it?”
Bubbles smiled sadly. Butch’s question had warmed her heart, but it wasn’t enough to shake
off the chill. With a heavy sigh, she nodded.
“Y-yeah, if…if that’s okay.” Bubbles bit her lip. As Butch moved closer to her, she felt that
same warmth from before trying its best to chase away these feelings. The moment she
opened her mouth to speak, her voice cracked and a tear rolled down her cheek, “I don’t
know what’s wrong with Blossom, and I don’t know how to help.”
Butch glanced up at the classroom, then back at Bubbles. His eye twitched.
“Something’s wrong with her?”
“I think so,” Bubbles nodded, “That game, th-the review. She should have joined us. That…
that was everything she’s ever wanted. I know she would have won, but she should have been
happy! She should have had fun! But…but, then she didn’t. And, I…” Bubbles rubbed her
eyes, unable to stop herself from crying, “I don’t know what’s wrong.”
Butch sat awkwardly beside her as she began to cry harder. His hands fidgeted uselessly,
unsure of where to be. He tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Even if he could, he
didn’t know what to say.
“She’s,” Bubbles spoke up, pulling her knees to her chest and hugging them tight, “Blossom
never really talks about her problems. She just pretends she’s fine because she wants to be
strong for us. She wants to be the person who has all the answers. The person we can always
count on. But, I’ve never seen her like this before. It…” Bubbles trailed off.
Butch looked up when she continued.
“It all started when Aku beat us.” Bubbles sniffled and wiped her eyes, her eyes widening as
if everything was coming into focus, “When we woke up, all she said was ‘We lost.’ It wasn’t
like her at all.”
“You…” Butch paused, trying to choose his words carefully. He could feel the hateful fire
burning in his chest. He could all but hear the demon’s voice booming in his ears. “You don’t
think you can beat him?”
He was shocked when Bubbles shook her head. He was even more confused when she turned
to him, smiling through her tears.
“No, I know we will. Even if she won’t tell me what’s wrong, I still believe in her. I know
Blossom’ll figure out something. She always does, and we always win.”
A loud thunk followed by a pair of thumps interrupted their conversation. Turning to the
source of the sound, Bubbles snorted and began laughing.
“Oh my gosh!” Bubbles giggled, “Look at those two! They’re so cute!”
Butch watched Brick laughing, bantering with Buttercup, but not throwing out any insults.
There was no malice in his brother’s voice and no sneer on his face.
“Dude…” He’d never seen Brick so happy before.
Naptime was the last quiet moment to rest and prepare before the big test. While most of the
class was happily dozing, one little boy lay in the corner, sprawled out on his mat and staring
up at the ceiling. His body was still sore from his game with Buttercup, but his limbs were
still restless. He could still feel the flames of his Heat Riser, the racing in his chest as he
dodged an attack before it was even thrown. He couldn’t stop grinning as he recalled the look
on her face when he managed to hit her without taking a hit himself.
His eyes unfocused, his smile becoming a frown as he recalled a conversation they’d had
between games.
“Dude, can you believe Boomer got a question right? Man, I can’t even believe that idiot can
spell his name.” Brick said, peering into the classroom where the stupid Ruff was sitting
beside his counterpart. He wanted to make a snide comment about the way Boomer stared at
her, but when she turned and he got a look at her face, he felt a tightness in his chest and a
rush of unbridled hatred, stoking the darklight inside of him.
“Psh, if she could teach me math, she can teach him anything. Blossom’s good at teaching if
you let her,” Buttercup retorted, also watching the pair inside the classroom.
What hatred Brick had felt before was a cinder compared to the raging inferno set off when
he saw the way Buttercup looked at her. His shoulders shook, teeth grinding, and his fist
cracking the pavement as he pushed it into the ground.
Why did everything keep coming back to her? Why did everyone look at her like that and not
him? What the hell was so special about Blossom?
“Tch, an idiot’s still an idiot. I dunno why she’s wasting her time. He was dumb when they
started and he’s gonna be dumb when they’re finished,” Brick growled through his teeth. He
swallowed his anger, an unfamiliar flutter in his chest when Buttercup turned to look at him
and shrugged.
“Hey man, that’s just how she is, you know? She always does the right thing, even if it’s
stupid, or weird, or pointless. That’s what makes her Blossom.”
Glaring at the ceiling, Brick rolled onto his side. His stomach churned when he saw her at the
other end of the room, shifting restlessly in her sleep. Why were they so different? Wasn’t he
made to be better than her?
Buttercup’s words played over and over again in his head. He couldn’t describe the look on
her face when she spoke about Blossom because he’d never seen it anywhere else, except
maybe on Bubbles. His brothers had never looked at him that way. They’d never said
anything like that about him before.
Was she really…
Clenching his jaw until it began to hurt, Brick felt the darkness overtaking him. He tried to let
it go, tried to roll over and close his eyes. But, when he spotted the eraser Buttercup had
thrown at him the other day, he lost control of his senses.
Snatching the eraser from the ground, without a care if he was seen, Brick silently hurled the
eraser across the room, aimed straight at her face.
The dark clouds that had settled over Townsville rumbled with thunder as heavy, frigid drops
of water rained down on the silent city. At the heart of its destruction, a gnarled, black tree
rose into the steel clouds floating in the air. At the foot of the unheavenly tree stood a lone
little girl. Drenched, standing ankle deep in the dark water, she couldn’t feel the cold through
the devil’s fire raging inside her.
Her lips parted, she breathed in short, staggered breaths. Electricity surged along her skin
and into her chest, flooding her heart until it felt ready to burst. Her eyes were wide, staring
unblinking at the ribbons of red streaming down the tree’s trunk, dripping from its limbs, and
pooling at her feet.
Steam rose from her skin. Feeling as if she were melting, she suddenly felt smothered in her
own skin. She reached for her face, freezing when she saw blood stains that not even the
pouring rain could wash away.
Hearing a sound, she looked up, spotting the serpent hiding in the limbs. Suddenly, she was
looking through the serpent’s eyes at the little girl in the rain. Though she’d seen her a
hundred thousand times, she didn’t recognize her hateful red eyes, or the sinister grin that
refused to leave her face.
Looking through her own eyes once more, she found herself face to face with the serpent. It
was grinning, mirroring the look she’d seen on the imposter’s face not moments ago. Its coils
approached her, offering her the ruby red fruit from the tree’s limbs. She could now see that
the streams of red in the tree were coming from the fruit.
Reaching for the fruit, she opened her mouth. As she drew close enough to breathe in its tart
scent, she saw a spray of sparks before a blistering emerald light crashed into her cheek.
Blossom’s eyes snapped open to reveal a world of unbroken scarlet. The pain in her cheek
had spread in an instant to the rest of her body. Her back was once more torn open. Her arms
and legs were shredded by inhuman claws. Her chest was collapsing, threatening to erupt into
a torrent of fire and lightning.
She wanted to scream, but she couldn’t find her voice. The agony quickly spreading through
her once powerful body robbed her of that simple release. She was certain her skin was
melting. Something bubbling beneath the surface was oozing like pus from her wounds,
eager to envelop her in its suffocating embrace.
For one, tantalizing, desperate moment she almost let it.
“I still don’t get why she’s here,” Brick grumbled, glaring at Bubbles. He rolled his eyes
when she simply smiled and waved back at him.
At her side, Butch shrugged.
“Dude, you wanted to beat Buttercup, right? Well, she can help. She’s trained with Buttercup
like a bajillion times, right?” Butch asked, turning to Bubbles for confirmation.
Folding her hands behind her, Bubbles rolled her head back and forth, humming.
“Hm, hm, hmm…well maybe not a bajillion. More like a zillion,” giggling, she turned to
Brick and smiled again, “But, I am happy to help!”
Brick groaned and looked to Boomer for some back up. He found his idiot brother standing
upright, staring at Bubbles with a harsh, unwavering look. Though they were several feet
apart, Brick could feel the darklight threatening to rage inside of him.
“Whatever, I guess.” Brick finally conceded, “But, we’re doing this our way. You wanna
hang with us, you gotta do it the Rowdyruff way, got it?”
Bubbles snapped to attention and saluted.
“Yes, sir, Rowdyruff Leader, sir!”
The training wasn’t nearly as strategic or meticulously planned as Bubbles was used to.
Where Blossom led them into every practice scenario with a concrete list of what they were
working on, how they were going to work on it, and things for them to look out for, the
“Rowdyruff Way”, as it turned out, was little more than throwing themselves, or whatever
was nearby, at each other until they couldn’t move.
As she zipped from one side of the warehouse to another with Brick hot on her trail, she had
to admire the place the boys had made for themselves. Of course, she was certain all of the
furniture and toys and appliances were stolen; however, since she was doing things the
“Rowdyruff Way,” she figured she could look the other way for now. She wouldn’t have
traded her home for theirs, but there was a rustic charm to it that reminded her of camping or
an extra big pillow fort.
Screeching to a halt, she concentrated on the angry boy in front of her. The Rowdyruff Boys
were always jerks, and Brick was the King Jerk through and through. The time she spent
pretending to be Boomer, she found most of her abuse coming from the red-haired ruffian. As
she traded blows with him, she had to admit though: for a King Jerk, he was a much better
fighter than she remembered.
It was no wonder Buttercup was so into him, she thought with a grin.
“No smiling! Just punching!”
“Yessir!” Bubbles stopped herself mid punch, allowing Brick’s fist to sail past her, leaving
the two staring into each other's eyes. Seeing the shock on his face, she couldn’t help one
more smile as she brought her fist crashing into his cheek, hurling him across the room and
into a broken industrial-sized freezer, “Whoops! Sorry about that.”
The freezer trembled and then exploded as Brick erupted from it. He landed in front of
Bubbles, a red mark on his face.
She had already prepared an apology and an exit-strategy, but neither proved necessary when
Brick laughed and spit a glob of blood onto the concrete.
“Not bad. Next time I might try taking you seriously.”
Bubbles giggled, “I will if you do.”
Brick snickered and rubbed his cheek.
“Word. SWITCH UP! BOOMER! YOU FIGHT BUBBLES!” Before anyone could argue,
Brick and Butch were crashing into each other in the air.
Boomer landed in front of Bubbles with a heavy stomp, his expression torn between a scowl
and a grimace.
“We don’t have to if you don’t want, Boomer. We could just take a break?” Bubbles offered.
She frowned when Boomer silently shook his head.
He continued to stare at her. She could hear his teeth grinding and was well aware of the way
his fists shook, threatening to fly at her on a moment’s notice. When one finally did, she
brought her fists up and prepared her counter-attack.
His mitt stopped short, held out to her harmlessly. Though he was standing stiff as a board
and he was shaking like a bomb ready to go off, Boomer forced himself to smile.
“C…C…C-c-caaaaaaaah,” he cleared his throat and shook his head. The recollection of
Blossom’s warm embrace around him flooded him with courage and smothered the flames
that wanted to consume him, “Can w-we b-b-b…be f-f-friends?”
For the second time that day, Bubbles felt a tug on her heartstrings. She quickly wiped away
the lone tear threatening to fall and took Boomer’s hand in hers.
“I’d love to be your friend, Boomer.”
Blossom sucked in a breath and opened her eyes wide, taking in the streaks of green that
filled the Danger Grid.
Buttercup’s movements had changed, and not even in a subtle way. She was taking turns
more quickly, with fewer dips in her speed. Whatever training she and Bubbles had done the
day before, Blossom had to admit that she was impressed. She smirked, blocking a hit from
one side, her movements flowing into another block at the other.
“What did you and Bubbles do?” She asked, trading a few more blows, before catching
Buttercup with a light shove that sent her tumbling to the ground. Blossom giggled, hurrying
over to help her up, “You’re really cruising today, Buttercup.”
Buttercup panted, slick with sweat, an excited smile on her face.
“Yeah? You really think so?”
Blossom rested her hands on her hips and beamed.
“I do! You’ve improved your turn rate by almost thirty percent in just one day. That’s huge!”
Blossom pursed her lips, tilting her head, “If you could bring it up another, oh, thirty-seven,
then I think you might be able to almost completely eliminate the redirection delay.”
“Man, that much?” Buttercup sighed and scratched her head, “I’ve been practicing all day,
but I just can’t seem to go any faster.”
Blossom nodded, “How close are you getting to the event horizon?”
“Man, I dunno…pretty close though. A few times just now I almost ran into myself.”
Buttercup began to stretch, “It’s so weird, seeing myself like that.”
Blossom brought mitt to her chin. A smile broke out on her face.
“That’s it!” She exclaimed, “That’s what you have to do to push even further.”
“Huh?” Buttercup asked, “What, hit myself?”
Blossom rolled her eyes and giggled.

“No, silly. The opposite. The way you’re moving right now is reactive. You try to adjust for
what your opponent will be doing, so you’re mostly going off instinct. For your Hyperlight
Speed to go further, you need to be planning ahead where you’ll be at any given moment, so
that if you do start to bend time, you won’t have to consider running into yourself. Think of it
like…plotting a course, just one that updates as the fight progresses.” Her explanation
finished, Blossom waited expectantly for Buttercup’s reply. She sighed when her sister
shrugged.
“That sounds like a lot of work. Most of the time I’m too busy thinking about how to pound
someone, I don’t have time to think about what I’m doing after I pound them.” Buttercup
flinched and laughed when Blossom playfully punched her in the stomach.
“That’s why you have to practice, silly. If you’re going to be fast enough to hit me, you’re
going to have to start thinking ahead.”
“Yeah, you’re right, you’re right. Miss Know-A-Lot is right about something.” Buttercup
crossed her arms and gave Blossom a cheeky grin, “Fine, I’ll practice that. Next time Brick
and I play dodgeball, I’ll give it a shot.”
Blossom’s smile faded, replaced by a mask of indecision. The pain that she’d been ignoring
came shrieking back to the forefront of her mind. She could hear his derisive laughter. She
could see his cruel leer aimed right at her. She could feel the cracks spreading inside of her.
Suddenly the Danger Grid was plunged into a sea of red, where Buttercup’s silhouette was
the lone beacon of relief.
“Oh right, you’ve been playing with him.” Blossom flinched, hoping that Buttercup couldn’t
hear the hurt in her voice. She turned away, unsure how her expression must look. Inside, she
wanted to scream. Outward, the best she could hope for was indifference.
“Yeah, but, I mean, it’s not like we’re friends or anything,” Buttercup’s voice was quiet
against the pounding in her head and the screaming in her ears, “It’s just…I mean, they’re all
jerks, but lately they’ve been not so bad. It’s like they’re getting better.”
Blossom bit her lip, turning back to find her sister in the haze. Her heart shuddered in her
chest as she watched streams of red leak into the emerald light.
“Let’s go again,” Blossom hurriedly said, leaping away from Buttercup and preparing to spar
once more. As the pair began their dance again, unbidden thoughts crept into her mind,
shaking her to her core.
If the boys, who were born evil, could change for the better…
Was she changing for the worse?
Wake up.
Blossom’s eyes snapped open, hands quickly covering her mouth to keep from screaming.
Sitting up silently, she looked at the slumbering forms on either side of her. Bubbles was
facing her, snuggling up close, with Octi held tight in her arms. She remembered falling
asleep, holding her hand until sleep had taken them. On her other side, Buttercup was facing
away, but she’d scooted close until the room between them was nonexistent. She had her
favorite blanket in her arms, something she’d given up so long ago, but something she’d been
sleeping with since last Friday.
Careful to avoid waking them, Blossom scooted out from between the pair, hovering into the
air. Her eyes grew wide as needles and razors of searing pain seemed to overtake every inch
of her body. She managed to hover to the door before collapsing on the carpet, curling in on
herself to try to will the suffering away.
Eyes clenched tight, she bit her lip until she tasted blood.
It’s a start. We have work to do.
Blossom shook her head, stumbling to her feet and staggering out of the room. Her head was
pounding, throbbing with every beat of her racing heart. Opening her eyes, she couldn’t see
anything but fire. She managed to make it to the stairs before losing the last of her strength.
Sitting on the first step, she drew her knees in and buried her face in her arms, a strangled sob
wracking her body.
She didn’t know how long she sat there crying before a soft voice called out to her.
“Blossom? Sweetie, it’s almost midnight, is everything alright?” Ms. Keane asked, slipping
into the space beside her, resting a hand on her back. She pulled away when Blossom hissed
and lurched forward. When she wrapped her arm around the little girl’s waist, instead of
pulling away, she sank into her embrace, “What’s wrong, honey?”
“I’m fine,” Blossom quickly replied, her voice tiny and breathless.
“Blossom, honey, you’re not fine.” Ms. Keane gave her side a squeeze, “I know something
has been troubling you all week. At first, I thought it was just the boys being in class, but…
I’ve never seen you like this before, Blossom. Won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”
“N-nothing is…” Blossom began. She froze when Ms. Keane interrupted her.
“You didn’t play along with the others during the review today,” Ms. Keane frowned, holding
back her own overflowing emotions, “Please, let me help you, Blossom.”
Who does she think she is?
That wore down the last of Blossom’s defenses. Burying herself in Ms. Keane’s side, she
finally let herself cry.
“I don’t know how to win, Ms. Keane,” she admitted, “Everyone is counting on me, but I
don’t know how to beat it. I…I just know I’m going to lose.”
The teacher pulled the sobbing little girl into her arms, clutching her to her chest. She’d have
given anything for her arms to be strong enough to strangle the demons the redhead was
struggling with. They sat in silence save for the commercial on the television in the living
room.
“It’s alright to not know everything, Blossom,” Ms. Keane finally said, kissing the top of her
head before squeezing her tight once more, “No one is expecting you to beat Aku all by
yourself. You have your sisters, your father, and you have me, too. ”
Blossom clutched Ms. Keane’s shirt, teeth grinding as she struggled against the feeling that
she was coming unwound.
“I can’t lose. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…” she whimpered.
“It’s okay. It’s okay,” Ms. Keane cooed, resting her cheek atop Blossom’s head and rocking
her gently, “You’ll be alright, honey. You can count on us, too. We’re all here to help you,
Blossom.” Ms. Keane hesitated, memories and regrets flooding her mind. Running her
fingers through her silky red hair, she couldn’t help but say, “You remind me of someone.”
Blossom sniffled, catching her breath to try to stop her tears. She purred as gentle fingers
caressed her hair and chased away the agony.
“Who?”
“My little sister. She was strong, independent, and so determined to win every fight life threw
at her, no matter how unfair.” Ms. Keane sighed wistfully, “When we were little and she was
upset, I used to make her hot chocolate and pet her hair, just like this.”
“I…” Blossom opened her eyes, peering through the crimson haze, “You have a sister?”
Ms. Keane’s weary smile faltered, a lump forming in her throat.
“I used to.” She replied. “I lost her because I couldn’t understand what she was going
through. When she needed me most, I wasn’t there for her.” She leaned down and kissed
Blossom’s head, “But, I will be here for you. I promise.”
Blossom closed her eyes. Her thoughts had quieted for a moment, and the pain had retreated
to below the surface.
The clock on the wall read half past two in the morning. A deathly silence had fallen over the
Utonium Household. Downstairs, in the bathroom, Blossom stared at her reflection in the
mirror. Her eyes were bloodshot, with dark circles forming around them. After pretending to
sleep so that Ms. Keane would go to bed, she’d lain awake, trapped in her own head as her
body felt as if it were moments from tearing in half.
Hands shaking, she turned on the cold water, splashing it on her face. When she looked up at
the mirror again, her mouth fell open. Trembling, she brought her hands to her face, which
was now dripping with blood. Despite the terror she felt gripping her heart, her reflection
seemed elated, a wide, open-mouthed smile on her face, her eyes half-lidded with ecstasy.
A shaking moan escaped her lips when her reflection looked into her eyes.
“What are you waiting for? You know what you need to do.”
“N-n-no,” she gasped. Tearing her eyes away from the mirror. The moment she did, a
sensation like the CXI.21’s dark spears washed over her, ripping her arms and legs apart all
over again. Dropping to the floor, a scream caught in her throat, Blossom grabbed her head,
pressing her face into the floor. She lurched forward, feeling Fuzzy’s claws against her back.
“I w-won’t, n-not again, no. No, no, no!” Blossom hissed, pulling herself to her hands and
knees. A pulse like a bomb hit her chest, causing her knees to shake and arms to nearly give
out. The siren in her head had reached a new volume, one that not even Bubbles could
manage. Throwing herself backward, Blossom clasped her hands to her ears.
“Quit lying to yourself. You want this. You need this.”
“No! I d-don’t…I don’t want to keep hurting people!” Blossom cried. Dragging herself to her
feet by grabbing onto the sink, she found herself staring at her reflection again. The Blossom
in the mirror, her eyes red like dying suns and her grin more wicked than the devil, rocked
back and forth in rhythm with her.
Not wracked with pain, but writhing in ecstasy. As they stared into each other's eyes,
Blossom felt a flicker of that euphoria and moaned.
She was no longer in the bathroom. Instead she was in a city street, watching as a gang of
teenagers ran from her. She laughed and lunged forward, moving like lightning. As her claws
dug into the first victim’s back, the sweet scent of blood flooded her senses.
Forcing her eyes shut, she managed to make it back to her own body. Her knees gave out and
she fell to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Please no…please, I don’t want to do this. Please, just stop.” Blossom looked up, her mouth
pulled back in a silent scream. She could see her reflection’s hands reaching from the mirror.
The other Blossom peered down at her from her perch on the sink, face streaked with blood.
She licked it from her lips, giggling.
“You can’t stop me. No one can stop me now.”
The reflection fell to the ground and crept closer, dragging herself across the floor. When
Blossom found herself backed into the corner, the reflection climbed onto her, grabbing her
wrists and pinning them to the wall. Face to face, the reflection’s eyes began to burn and her
grin changed from gleeful malice to sneering hatred.
“Y-You’re not real…you’re not r-real…” Blossom sobbed. For several tense seconds, she sat
in silence, braced for whatever was to come.
Eventually, Blossom cracked her eyes open. She was alone and the blood was gone. The pain
was gone, replaced by power flooding her body like a dam breaking open. She climbed to her
feet effortlessly. Everything was silent.
Everything was normal.
Blossom turned to the mirror. Her rose-red eyes were no longer bloodshot and no longer
framed in dark circles. Ducking beneath the sink, Blossom shoved the cleaning supplies out
of the way and tugged a plastic bag from the back. Pulling it open, she pulled out a once pink
dress now forever stained with blood. Clutching it to her chest, a smile spread across her lips.
Panting, laughing, Blossom stood over what remained of a career pick pocketer. She brought
her hands, still slick with blood, to her face and touched her cheeks. Throwing her head back,
she howled with wild, uncontrollable laughter. The look on their faces. The fear in their eyes.
The sound of their screams. She kept replaying every delicious second in her mind.
Her head snapped down; her laughter ended abruptly. Now snarling, she roared as she
stomped the unmoving corpse until there was nothing left but a pile of red-painted rubble.
Taking a deep breath, she let it out in a content sigh.
Blossom’s eyes snapped open. The world around her was unfocused and unfamiliar. She felt
sick to her stomach, smothered by the grotesque bouquet all around her. She took a step back,
stumbling over another victim. Though she couldn’t stand the taste of blood, she had to cover
her mouth to keep from crying out.
She made it to the other end of the alley, leaning against the wall and gasping for air. Her
vision blurred again.
Suddenly, she was somewhere else. She was standing in a house she’d never seen before. The
carpet was soaked and the same bouquet was all around her. Looking around the room, she
spotted a mirror and walked over to it. She was tall, with vibrant green skin, painted with
crimson splatter, wild red hair, and horns. Though she’d never seen this face before, she
immediately knew who it was.
She reached out to touch her reflection. A fingerless mitt pressed against hers in the mirror.
She was looking into her own rose-colored eyes. The Blossom in the mirror smiled. Not a
cruel or heartless smile, but one that was sincere and surprised.
She smiled in return, feeling a warm, soothing sensation thumping in her chest.
The Blossom in the mirror’s lips moved, but she couldn’t hear her voice.
She was back in the alleyway, looking at herself in a dirty window. The peace that she’d felt
before was quickly disappearing, replaced by panic. She had to get away, she had to find
somewhere to hide before anyone found her.
“Ima…I have to go see Ima,” Blossom repeated, twisting and turning to get her bearings.
Which way was the Rite-on-Time Diner? Where was she?
Hearing a sound, she spun on her heel, her power rising, ready to strike. The last thing she
saw before darkness took her was a wall of cold orange light.
The Madness of Mojo Jojo
Chapter Summary
It's just after midnight on Saturday morning. As the night drones on, a sinister scheme is
coming to fruition. Two souls, opposite yet drawn together, struggle to make it to
morning. Should one succeed, they both will fail.
Empty…black…my world was nothing, a silence broken only by my own realization that I
was alive. As my mind sluggishly searched for understanding, some of my senses began to
seep into the emptiness.
Cold.
All around me a piercing, bitter cold dug its claws into my unmoving body. As I began to
comprehend the cold, I became aware of more sensations. I was wet, from head to toe,
submerged in some vaguely familiar water that sapped my strength. I was naked, or at least
nearly naked. I couldn’t be certain; I couldn’t even be sure where the cold ended and my body
began.
Heavy.
My arms and legs felt impossibly heavy. Though my thoughts were a blur and my memories
were foggy, I remembered being strong; I recalled being invincible. While I still couldn’t
remember so much as my name, I knew that I’d never felt a weight like the cold that held me
in place. A flash of defiance crossed my mind. Forcing all of my will into my arms, I tried to
move.
Pain. Mind-blackening, soul-rending pain.
The thoughts I’d managed to summon were robbed by indescribable pain tearing at my arms
and legs. My eyelids were immovable, but as the pain grew more unbearable, my body began
to form in my mind’s eye. The suffering in my limbs paled compared to that in my back. Metal
even colder than the heavy water pierced my back, just above my shoulder blades. Greater
still, was the pain situated in my stomach.
My hearing returned just in time to catch an electronic hum.
When the unholy machine began to suck the life out of me, I begged for my voice back so that
I could scream.
The midnight air was a symphony of whirring rudders, bubbling liquid, and beeping
machinery. The flickering lights had gone out, leaving the room lit by the silver moonlight
pouring in through the observatory window, the red lava glow from beneath the floor, and the
cold, orange light from the capsule at the center of the room.
Mojo stood in front of the tube, resting his hand on the glass, an unreadable expression on his
face. Inside the capsule was Blossom, floating in Antidote-X, metal wires attached to her
back and a clear tube attached to her stomach. As the machine kicked on, it began to drain a
thick, black liquid from her body. His father’s greatest creation, mankind’s greatest folly: the
miracle called Chemical X.
From the capsule, the pure, unfiltered Chemical X was being pumped into the great
mechanical monster behind him. Though the lab’s dim light left it in shadow, its sinister,
crimson sheen was unmistakable. Six pairs of unblinking eyes followed Mojo as he turned
away from the capsule, taking a seat at his computer.
“Thirteen percent. Hmm…” Mojo stroked his chin, his voice a frantic, panicked whisper,
“Too slow, much too slow. At this rate it will take far too long to gather the necessary
Chemical X.” He turned to face the capsule, but froze, his glare faltering, “But, no…no, if we
speed up the process, it would be unbearable for her.”
The floor creaked. Mojo looked up to see one of the machine’s heads leaning closer to him.
He quickly averted his gaze.
“I understand, it is a necessary evil. It must be done. There is no other way, no alternative.

This is the one and only…” Mojo’s voice cracked. He jumped to his feet, chewing on his
fingernails, which had grown long and crooked over the last several days, “I can’t do that.
No, no, we’ll take the time. It’s worth the risk.”
Shuffling across the room, he picked up the photograph from his work bench. Staring at the
smiling faces of the Powerpuff Girls and their guardians, he frowned as he looked at his own
begrudgingly smiling face. When had this been taken? They were foes, nemeses. They did
not pose for portraits. They did not enjoy one another’s company.
They meant to destroy each other. He meant to destroy them.
The machine’s eyes began to burn. A hiss of steam escaped its nostrils.
“I don’t…no, that’s not right. But, isn’t it? What…what am I forgetting?” Mojo murmured,
holding his head.
When was the photo taken?
“Oh, don’t be like that,” Blossom sighed, rolling her eyes. She and the simian scientist locked
eyes. Try as she might to stay stern, she broke first, giggling and grabbing his hand, “Come
on, no one is going to bite if you don’t bite first.”
“I do not bite,” Mojo grumbled, offering only a token resistance before allowing himself to
be dragged to the picnic blanket.
“Well then we won’t either!” she replied with another laugh. She finally released his hand,
taking a seat on the blanket and turning toward the others.
He followed her gaze. Townsville Park was busy, even for a Saturday. The Utonium Family
had staked out a place in the shade of his lab. The Professor and the girl’s teacher, the Keane
woman, were seated by a tall oak tree. There was a box of chocolates on her lap. They were
trying to act casual as they shared them, but with all the subtlety of a pair of lovestruck
teenagers. Buttercup was playing catch with herself, hurling a baseball and then vanishing in
a flash to catch it. As she shot back and forth, Bubbles sat nearby, cheering her on.
“Sit down, Jojo.”
Mojo blinked, turning to face the redhead. She was patting the spot beside her, her nose
buried in the book on her lap. He considered retreating back to his laboratory, but when she
looked up at him with a pleading smile, something inside of him began to melt. With a put-
upon sigh, he rolled his eyes and took a seat beside her.
Blossom nudged his arm, “Don’t act like you had other plans for Valentine’s Day,” she
teased.
“Hmph,” Mojo snorted, “I’ll have you know my schedule was booked, filled completely,
from sun up until sun down. Not a moment to spare.”
“Oh really?” Blossom’s attention was once again on her book, but as she spoke, she glanced
at him from the corner of her eye, “And just what sort of plans did the mighty,
megalomaniacal Mojo Jojo have for today, hmm?”
Mojo pursed his lips, refusing to look at her.
He coughed into his fist, “There is a Drew Barrymore marathon on Channel 14.” His cheeks
lit up pink as the Powerpuff girl fell backward, giggling uncontrollably.
“Really?” Blossom managed that one word before losing her composure. After getting
control of herself, she sat up, wiping her eyes, “Oh wow, I didn’t know you were such a fan,
Jojo.”
“She is a very talented actress!” Mojo sputtered. He was rewarded with another giggle fit. He
crossed his arms and looked away with a huff, “Did you drag me from my home just to mock
me? To have a laugh at my expense? To make fun of my taste in romantic comedies? Is that
your game? Your plan?”
Blossom shook her head.
“Of course not,” she replied. Now, it was her turn to shuffle awkwardly, trying to focus on
her book, “It’s just…” Blossom cleared her throat, turning the page, “We haven’t seen you in
a few weeks, so I…I guess I was worried about you.”
“You were?” Mojo asked incredulously.
She didn’t respond immediately. It wasn’t until she turned the page that she nodded.
“I was,” she admitted, “It’s the longest we’ve gone without seeing you. I just wanted to make
sure you were okay.”
Mojo wasn’t sure how to respond. There was a strange, but pleasant, warmth in his stomach
when she looked up at him. It wasn’t the look he was used to seeing. There was no
determination, no confidence bordering on arrogance. No, this wasn’t the look of a rival, it
was the look of-
“I guess I was just worried about my big bro-” Realizing what she was saying, Blossom cut
herself off. Burying her nose in her book, now it was her turn to turn crimson.
Brother?
“Oh! Oh! Can we take a picture?” Bubbles’ cheerful voice interrupted the awkward silence.
Mojo once again found his hand once again in a firm, unbreakable grip.
“That’s a great idea, Bubbles!” Blossom called, dragging the villain behind her, “Come on,
Jojo!”
Jojo. Brother.
Those words echoed in his mind. The warmth was continuing to grow. He even managed a
smile when the girls said, “Cheese!”
Valentine’s Day, February 14th, just two months ago. That was right. He had been locked up
in his laboratory, lying in his recliner when a knock at the door led him to her. Why had she
come to see him? Did she mean what she said?
Mojo growled, grabbing his head. A painful throb pulsed in his brain. Why hadn’t he
attacked the city? Why was he cooped up in the lab, but not scheming? What…why had he
said yes?
It was on the tip of his tongue, he thought. Something was missing.
The supervillain sat upright, feeling a hot breath on his back. Turning, he found himself face
to face with the machine. Its eyes drilled into his soul.
“I…I understand. Yes, yes, of course, you’re right. We cannot wait until morning.” Mojo
made his way back to the capsule, breathing heavily, “We need to turn up the rate. We cannot
risk the others arriving.” Twisting a dial to the right, he watched unblinking as she began to
writhe and thrash inside.
The machine seemed pleased.
STOP! PLEASE STOP!

I tried to cry. I tried to beg for some relief. In response, the vacuum just grew stronger still,
ripping my soul from my body without care or mercy. How long had I been there? How long
was this going to last? Through the haze of agony, a memory appeared, clear as day in my
mind.
I was standing in an alley. My hands were already wet with blood. Looking down, I saw a
broken body in my grip. A twisted mess of flesh and blood that had once been a face stared
back at me through glassy, horror-stricken, dead eyes.
Hearing a sound, I remembered there was someone else. With a snort and a giggle, I threw
the corpse to the ground. They were trying to run. My vision was an endless sea of red, but
even still, I could see the filthy criminal. My eyes heated up, unleashing a blast of hell’s light,
ripping their legs from their body.
“Please stop! No more! Let me go!” Their screams were like music, echoing in the alleyway
like a symphony in a grand hall.
A blissful look on my face, I glided across the dirty, gore-streaked street. My movements
flowing in time with their pleas, I couldn’t help but twirl and pirouette when I reached the
poor, unfortunate soul. Holding my pose, a look of forbidden ecstasy on my face, I looked
them in the eye.
“You’re going to die.”
The voice I spoke with was not my own. She sounded just like me, but there was a playful
cruelty to her words that made me sick to my stomach. The criminal began to sob, shaking
their head. I nodded slowly, skipping from one foot to the other, pausing by their head. I
leaned down with an extravagant, elegant bow, my face inches from theirs.
“You’re all going to die.” She said, speaking through my mouth again. Suddenly, her words
changed from honeyed sweetness to bitter venom, “Every last one of you.”
There was no time for the criminal to utter even a sob. With another twirl, I ripped them
apart, splattering the street in a fountain of fresh, hot blood.
Licking my lips, I fought the urge to laugh.
I failed.
“No, no! I will not! I refuse! That is where I draw the line!” Mojo shambled to his computer
console. Every monitor displayed information about his latest creation.
A metal monstrosity unlike any other. A robot forged in the flames of Hell. A weapon that
could conquer Heaven itself. A machine more powerful than God.
His Infernal Machine.
He could feel its eyes on him once more, the primary head stretching across the room, while
the other two circled the capsule that contained his rival. His sister. His Blossom.
Mojo dialed into the monster’s artificial intelligence. His keyboard stopped responding when
he attempted to access the code. The screen changed, showing the pulsing core of the
machine, which was now filled with Chemical X.
The abyss peered back at him.
“You’re wrong. That, that is not the only way! No!” Mojo smashed his fist against the
console, “Once we have what we need, we will put her back. Return her to her home. Let her
recover, restore her strength. If we are to truly defeat the Powerpuff Girls, then we must
defeat her!”
The glow of the machine’s eyes reflected in the monitor. The core hummed.
“I…I know” Mojo finally turned away, facing the metal face behind him, “But…please
understand.” His words caught in his throat, “Not her. I…I can’t, not to her. If it is in battle,
then…then I could, but not like this.”
The machine’s eyes burned darker still.
“My decision is final!” Mojo’s voice cracked. Rising from his seat, he stormed past the
machine. He paused by the Antidote-X capsule, patting the glass.
She called him Jojo.
Mojo tore his hand away, retreating into the darkest part of the lab where his tattered old
recliner sat. Lying back in his seat, struggling to get comfortable, he grabbed a dirty
newspaper from the floor and draped it over his face.
No matter how hard he clenched his eyes shut, sleep refused to come.
Please…someone…anyone. Please help me. I can’t take it anymore. Please!
As I screamed inside my head, something changed. I managed to move. Though it felt like
dragging my body through barbed wire, I managed to move my arms, and then my legs. A
fresh Hell erupted from my middle when I tried to curl in my legs. Arching my back, I opened
my mouth to scream.
Summoning every last ounce of strength I could fathom, I managed to open my eyes. I was
standing in a place of red rock and frozen fire. I was taller, much taller than I ever
remembered being. My eyes burned and my body ached.
“Do not worry, Samurai, you will see me again. But next time, you will not be so
fortunate.” I folded my arms behind my back, breathing a sigh of relief. No sooner had the
breath passed my lips, the sky ripped open and a man who looked frighteningly close to my
father appeared. His body was beaten and scarred, but unbroken. His hair was wild and
frayed. In his eyes, I saw an unbending will that caused my heart to stop beating.
I tried to escape his wrath, but I was far too tired, and he was far too determined. He chased
me across the pit, parrying any meager attack I offered and slicing through my skin with his
shining sword. The pain was incomprehensible. Like the sun itself erasing me from existence.
I searched desperately for an escape. Any reprieve.
For a moment, the warrior vanished. In the next instant, my head split in two.
“No….MORE!”
Screaming and thrashing, I found myself in the cold darkness once more.
The chirp of a new alarm snapped Mojo out of the dreamless daze in which he’d been sitting.
Yawning and climbing to his feet, he shuffled back to the console. Just twenty more minutes.
Mojo sighed with relief, making his way back to the center of the room. At one time, it may
have brought a smile to his face to see her suffering as she was. Now, though, the sight of her
thrashing offered him no joy or peace. Instead, it weighed on him like an anvil of guilt and
shame.
Mojo pressed his hand against the glass.
“I promise, dear Blossom, it is almost over. It is nearly complete. Just a little bit longer.
Just…” He drew in a shaky breath, feeling the machine’s gaze on him again, “Just a little bit
more.”
It had to be her, he thought as he watched her continue to struggle. The others, they were not
weak. Not by any stretch of the imagination. Bubbles had taught him that lesson harshly,
years ago when he thought capturing her would be an easy way to lead her sisters into a trap.
And Buttercup, the girl wasn’t called the “Toughest Fighter” for no reason. Even still, ultra-
super as they were, it had to be Blossom.
She, who had struggled for years to hold back a deluge of power that could have torn the
planet in half. She, who had thwarted every apocalypse imaginable through wit and
unyielding determination. She, who had saved them all from the-
Mojo choked on his breath, his vision blurring. Deep in his mind, a screeching sound, like a
poorly-tuned violin, tried to drown the words from his thoughts. Digging his nails into the
capsule’s glass and grinding his teeth, he pushed through that blank space. There, in the very
back of his mind, those words leapt out at him:
The Doomsday
Tearing away from the tube, his nails scratching the glass, Mojo hurried to his computer. The
Infernal Machine’s presence bore down on him like the Devil’s gaze, but he ignored its fury.
Furiously searching his files, he tried to find the source of that word. Digging through all of
his meticulously cataloged plans and his obsessively organized plots, he was certain he would
find something.
It wasn’t a mere word. No, the way that every ounce of his being sought to bury it was all the
evidence needed to prove it. Somewhere, in his memories, was the missing piece.
As he began to open a folder, his screen changed, a piercing warning alarm blaring from his
speakers. The image on the monitor changed back to the machine’s A.I Core. The hair on the
back of his neck rose, sweat trickling down his face. He could feel all six of the machine’s
eyes on him. Its warning was clear.
The screen changed again, showing the progress of the Chemical X extraction. Breathing in
short breaths, not daring to glance back over his shoulder, he nodded his head. There were
just ten more minutes.
Mojo hurried back to the capsule, refusing to take his eyes away from her. Even in her
suffering, with her powers reduced to a mere cinder, she was radiant.
Blossom. His Blossom.
His rival. His nemesis. His everything.
She had been there for every victory, and she had been responsible for every failure. Just as
he had been a constant threat to the city of Townsville, she, too, had been a constant in his
ever changing life.
The leader of the Powerpuff Girls.
The Perfect Little Girl.
Mojo swallowed nervously. His shadow had grown far too large for him to control. Now, it
loomed over the city, and soon it would loom over the entire world.
“Blossom…”
It had to be her. There was no other way. The only hope for him was her alone. Surely she,
who shined brighter than any sun, could save him from his Infernal Machine.
A shrill sound pierced through my clouded thoughts. Forcing my eyes open once more, I
found myself in a new place. I was surrounded entirely in orange liquid. It’s thick, viscous
texture was nearly impossible for my tired eyes to see through. I could just make out what
looked like glass at the other end of the liquid. Beyond the glass was darkness.
No, not entirely darkness. If I looked in just the right spot, I could see a deep, pulsing crimson
inside the shadows. Though I was freezing, the throbbing light was like daggers of ice
straight into my heart. For some reason, it was familiar, stirring up some vague, primal fear.
Something forgotten that I never should have.
Tearing my gaze away from the light, I tried to get my bearings. There was a mask over my
mouth, oxygen flowing into my starved lungs. I managed to move one of my arms. There were
needles in my skin, syringes that were pumping me full of the same orange liquid. Antidote-X,
I finally remembered. Someone was keeping me submerged in, and filled with, Antidote-X to
rob me of my powers.
That train of thought vanished, replaced by a blood-curdling, muffled scream of pain. My
hands moved, touching the tube embedded in my stomach. Straining my eyes, I could see a
black liquid coursing through the tube.
My Chemical X.
I tried to tug at the tube, but the instant I put pressure on it, the pain became unbearable. My
vision blurred and my thoughts turned to mush.
You’re pathetic.
Wh-what?
You can get free. You’ve been able to escape this whole time.
No, I…I can’t, it hurts too much. Th-the…the Antidote-X…
Is useless against you.
N-no…that’s not true, it’s…my powers are gon-
Your power is endless.
Before I could argue further, I felt a new sensation. A scorching, all-consuming heat swelling
in my chest. I clenched my teeth, arching my back as the heat exploded outward, filling my
broken body. My skin trembled, lightning just below the surface trying to break free. My
vision was starting to turn red. The pain was fading.
And as quickly as it came, it vanished. The capsule I was trapped in hissed and the Antidote-
X began to pour out. The glass was lifting. Steam was rising from my skin. I looked up,
movement catching my eye.
It was Mojo Jojo, standing in front of me as I dangled from the tubes and wires that he’d
drilled into my skin. In his hands, he held a gun that I recognized. I remembered the orange
flash and it all made sense. It was the gun designed to remove our powers. Moaning as I
lifted my head, I found myself staring into Mojo’s eyes.
There was no gleeful malice or sinister joy in his gaze. He was terrified.
“Please…please forgive me,” he spoke in a shaking whisper. Lifting the gun, he turned the
dial and pointed it at me, “Rest, recuperate, recover your strength.”
The gun was starting to hum. Feeling someone else looking at me, I looked past Mojo.
Staring into the eyes of whatever lay behind him, I felt the same fear gripping me.
“When we meet on Sunday…please, little sister…”
A flash of light exploded from the end of the gun and I was once again dragged back into the
darkness.
“Save the day.”
Rain on Me
Chapter Summary
The Professor's journey grows ever more perilous as more monsters from the past join
Hardly in hunting him. Blossom's faith in her sisters, and in herself, begins to crumble as
the investigation into the Eastside killings finally reaches her family. Desperate to
escape, her mind unraveling, she finds her answer in the rain.
Bitter wind whipping against his face, vision clouded by crumbling leaves and dust, the
Professor’s journey had slowed to a crawl. The Mountain had cast aside all pretense of peace,
leading the scientist into an unnatural forest. The thick canopy blocked out the light of the
sun, leaving him in darkness only broken by the flashlight he’d brought along. As minutes
turned to hours, and hours slowed to a crawl, even that light was starting to fade.
Knees shaking, legs threatening to give out, the Professor retreated to the relative shelter of a
boulder several times larger than himself. Breathing a sigh of relief, he fumbled for his
satchel. His brow furrowed, fingers tracing what was left of his supplies. After a moment of
hesitation, he plucked the last bottle of water from the pack and took a small sip.
“Why are you hiding, Jimmy?”
The sound of his voice caused the Professor to choke on his drink. He smothered his coughs
and shoved the bottle back into the pack. Trembling, he clutched it to his chest and shut his
eyes. In spite of the howling wind, he could hear Dick’s footsteps clear as crystal. He was
getting closer.
“You know what this is, don’t you? Doesn’t it remind you of something?” Hardly snickered.
His voice was on the other side of the boulder now, “You remember that night, don’t you?
The night when you realized just what playing god would mean?”
The Professor buried his face in his arms.
Of course he remembered. How could he ever forget?
It was just six weeks into his research of the Source. In those early days, his determination
and optimism was at its peak. Still, failure after failure was beginning to wear on the young
Professor Utonium’s esteem. The report from the first month had been hopeful, but ultimately
fruitless.
The Source couldn’t be contained, not in a way that would make it a legitimate fuel. Mere
exposure to electronics caused them to short-circuit at best, or to go berserk at worst. His
grant had already taken a beating to replace the equipment he’d destroyed in such a short
time. If, as he was beginning to theorize, it had no future in engineering, could it perhaps
have some sort of biochemical application?
The thought of subjecting any living organism to the Source was one that chilled him to his
core. So, he buried himself beneath speculation and theorizing. It was on that night, when the
campus was besieged by a particularly nasty storm, that it happened.
“Judging by the state of the excavation site, it’s likely the local fauna were aware of the
danger in approaching the Source. But, that only opens up more questions. What could have
possibly happened to scare off everything in the region?” The Professor mused, scribbling
away at his journal. He flinched when thunder shook the building, causing his tools to rattle.
“Hm?” The Professor looked down at his lap, a thankful smile on his lips. Scratching the
friendly black fuzzball’s ears, he breathed a sigh of relief, “Thanks for checking on me,
Sigma. I can always count on you, huh?”
The tabby mewed back at him, purring and pressing its head into his palm. Sigma belonged
to the university. No one knew where he’d come from, but he’d been around for so long and
got along well enough with the students and faculty that any thought of getting rid of him
was met with enthusiastic resistance. In the six weeks since Utonium had taken over the
small, seldom used lab, the cat had grown fond of him.
Truth be told, the long, lonely nights would have been so much worse without the little
mascot’s company.
The Professor chuckled when the cat mewed again and nuzzled his hand.
“You’re right, I do need some coffee,” Lifting the purring beast into his arms, the Professor
made his way to the other end of the lab. He set Sigma down on the counter and poured
himself a cup of lukewarm coffee. Sipping it, he gazed out the window and watched the
storm ravage the campus. His thoughts drifted away from his work. He almost considered
giving up.
A crash at the other side of the lab robbed him of that fleeting thought.
“What the?!” The Professor spun around, eyes widening and blood running cold.
The Professor sat up when the first drops of cold rain splashed against the back of his neck.
Scrambling to his feet, he flattened himself against the boulder. Dick’s voice had disappeared,
and along with it, his footsteps. Now, all he could hear was the rumble of thunder rolling
across the sky and the pitter-pat of raindrops hitting the ground.
Slipping his pack onto his shoulder, the Professor unbuttoned his coat and brought it over his
head to block out the rain. He held his breath, searching for the way forward.
The Mountain hadn’t blessed him with a simple clearing this time. The forest was thick and
hostile, waist-high brush disguising any possible path. The branches of the trees reached out
like gnarled claws. Swaying and creaking in the wind, it almost sounded like the forest itself
was a beast standing in his way.
“Oh Jimmy!” The wind carried Dick’s songlike call straight to the Professor. He was close,
and yet seemingly far away.
Wiping the rain from his face, the Professor pushed his way through the brush and branches,
searching for a way out.
“There’s someone here to see you, Jimmy!” Dick called again with a manic laugh.
“What the?” The Professor froze. An unearthly roar, something between a dying gasp and a
screech of fury shook the forest. Hearing heavy steps quickly approaching, the Professor
threw caution to the wind and began to run.
Across the Pacific Ocean, at Citiesville town hall, a different kind of monster sat alone in the
breakroom. It was still hours before the sun would be up, and even longer before the front
doors would be unlocked. The stillness, which may have passed for peace in a nicer town,
was broken by the rhythmic, frantic tip-tapping of sharp claws against a cheap metal table.
Aku’s lips were curled into an uncomfortable frown. While one hand restlessly assaulted the
table’s surface, the other dug at his chest. The throbbing that had haunted him since his
revival had become profound. It had felt warm and pleasant closer to midnight, when he had
peered through her eyes into his own; when her hand had rested against his. He couldn’t quite
describe what it was he felt in that instant when they were one, but it was a feeling that not
even the sinister fog of his city of evil could smother.
Then, just hours later, it had twisted into an excruciating pain. Nothing else compared to
whatever malady had come over him. As unbidden feelings of terror and desperation had
overwhelmed him, he found himself wishing for the Scientist’s chemical. At his weakest, he
found himself yearning for the Samurai’s blade.
Something had befallen her. What, he could not begin to know. But, something terrible,
something unthinkable had befallen the Red Child and what he had felt was just the fading
echoes of whatever hellish agony she had suffered.
When the pain subsided, it had been replaced with a dark fury unlike any other. Fury had
given way to confusion and confusion to frustration when he sought further insight into the
mystery. No matter how hard he looked, he couldn’t see her. It was as though they had been
severed entirely.
And so, feeling weak and defeated, he escaped the Pit. The uncertainty and despair he felt
when the flames refused his desires was simply too much to bear.
“Where are you, child?” Aku asked aloud. The empty room’s silence made his chest hurt
and his shoulders sag. Clutching his breast, the demon rose and made his way back to the
basement. Taking the steps one at a time, shuffling his feet as he walked, it took him nearly
ten minutes to return to the Human Resources office, and ten more to lower himself into his
throne in the Pit of Hate.
Staring at the frozen flames, his eyes were wary, desperate embers as he raised his hand.
“Please, show me the Red Child.” The weakness in his voice disgusted him. Why did he,
the Master of Masters, the Deliverer of Darkness, the Shogun of Sorrow, need to see her so?
She was the descendent of his nemesis. She was merely a weapon for him to wield against
the world, to banish them all to the silence of death into which he’d been cast. Why did he
need to know she was safe?
A weary sigh of relief escaped his parted lips when the flames showed her fast asleep in her
bed. He shot from his seat, gripping the flames and scanning her for any sign of harm. He
sighed once more, finding not so much as a blemish on her perfect face, nor a strand of her
perfect hair out of place.
Aku reared back, those thoughts reverberating in his mind.
Perfect? With her inhuman proportions, her doll-like features, and her aggravating insolence,
there was nothing perfect about her. She was a freakish abomination of science. An affront
against gods and nature. An insignificant cosmic anomaly.
“And yet…” He murmured. The once agonizing pain in his chest had returned to glowing
warmth. The more he looked at her, the further that warmth spread.
This wasn’t right.
It was his evil which had given her life. It was his power which had made her invincible. It
was his hatred which had seeped into her skin and set her soul ablaze. It was he who had
orchestrated every single step along the way.
So then, when did her joy become his? When did she infect his every thought? When did she
find a way beneath his skin? When did her smile become so precious?
When did she become perfect?
Across the river, as the sun began to rise, Townsville Hall was already wide awake. The air
was filled with the scent of fresh-brewed coffee and the rhythmic tapping of nimble fingers
against a keyboard. Seated at her desk just outside the Mayor’s office, Sara Bellum hummed
as she worked, pausing occasionally to take a sip from her mug—a white porcelain mug that
proudly displayed “World’s Best Assistant” in Comic Sans across the side—and flip through
the pages upon pages of paperwork that awaited her.
While the citizens of Townsville had re-elected the Mayor for nearly fifty years without fail,
sans a brief episode of collective idiocy a little three years ago, it was no secret that Ms.
Bellum was the one who ran the city. To an outsider, it surely seemed a strange arrangement.
The Mayor was a good-hearted, but bumbling fool. Ms. Bellum, by contrast, was driven,
efficient, and brilliant. Had she run for mayor, there was no doubt that she would win in a
landslide. The Mayor himself even joked that, should it come to pass, he would be first in
line to cast his ballot for her.
And yet, anytime it was suggested, her response was always silence.
“Good morning, how can I help you today?” Ms. Bellum greeted the man barging into the
room without looking up from her work. She continued to type, waiting for a response. When
none came, she raised an eyebrow and finally looked up at him, “Can I help you, Major?”
Across from her, his arms crossed and an obnoxiously fake smile on his face, stood Major
Glory. The superhero glanced at the door to the Mayor’s office, then back at the secretary.
“Why, yes, madam. I am here on behalf of the Government of the United States of America. I
need to speak with the Mayor. May I go in?” Major Glory’s smile vanished when the typing
resumed and the red-haired woman turned away from him.
“The Mayor isn’t in, yet, Major.” She replied. Before he could insist, she continued, “And, I
don’t believe you have an appointment.”
Major Glory laughed incredulously, resting his hands on his hips and tilting his head.
“Madam, I’m sorry, but you do know who I am, don’t you? I’m certain I can be penciled in.”
Though her expression remained neutral, Ms. Bellum’s lips formed a thin line. Taking a
short, imperceptible breath, she turned to face him fully.
“I am very familiar with you, Major Grant,” the corner of her mouth twitched when the
hero’s expression changed immediately from one of pompous self-importance to skittish
nervousness, “We’ve met several times now, actually.”
Major Glory coughed into his fist, turning away from her to hide the wild look in his eye. As
subtly as he could manage, he tugged at the corner of his mask.
“I-I um, I think you may be mistaken, madam. My name is-”
“Major Glory, the superhero who represents the United States of America, both domestically
and abroad.” Ms. Bellum laced her fingers and peered at the shaken hero over them, “But,
legally, you are Major Thomas Grant, a West Point alum who was part of Project Star-
Spangled Man. Officially, you work for the Department of Homeland Security in your
capacity as a superhero.”
“How do you-” Major Glory whipped around, catching himself mid-sentence when he locked
eyes with her. There was no veiled admiration or gratitude hiding behind her eyes. Just cold,
analytical indifference. Clearing his throat, he stood up straight, “You are…well-informed,
Miss?”
“Bellum. Sit, Major.” Casting her eyes down for the briefest of moments, she gestured to the
seat in front of her desk.
Wanting to save face, Major Glory refused, crossing his arms and staring her down. She
stared back unblinking, wearing the same unreadable expression on her face. Try as he might,
he flinched first. With a dramatic flourish of his cape, he sat down across from her.
“Why are you here, Major?” she asked flatly.
“I, ah-” Major Glory cleared his throat again, searching for his confidence once again, “I am
here to discuss the recent violation of the jurisdiction clause committed by the Powerpuff
Girl, Bloomer, on Monday.” After finishing, the hero finally found something other than cool
indifference in the woman’s expression. He saw a flash of something dangerous in her eyes.
“There was no violation of the Accountability Act on Monday, Major.” Ms. Bellum replied, a
hint of that same danger in her voice.
“The Department of Homeland Security disagrees, Ms. Bellum.” Finally finding his footing,
confidence mixed with righteous indignation in Major Glory’s voice, “Even after having the
repercussions of their actions clearly explained to them by yours truly on that same day, the
incident that day extended beyond the city limits of Townsville and an entire landmass was
destroyed! That is a textbook violation of the jurisdiction clause!”
Ms. Bellum sat back. If she had blinked at all since he entered the room, he must have missed
it.
“That is actually a very good point, Major. I’ve already escalated the matter through the
appropriate channels, but I am actually quite relieved that we will get the opportunity to
discuss your flagrant abuse of power and harassment of the Powerpuff Girls in person.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Major Glory’s face fell. Now there was no mistaking what he had merely
glimpsed before. Though her tone remained professional, the quiet fury behind her words
was clear.
“How familiar are you with S.851815? As the meta-human representative of the DHS, I
would assume that you’re well-versed in the actual language of the Accountability Act.”
“Well, I’ve certainly read-”
Ms. Bellum continued without waiting, “Which would naturally mean that you are familiar
with Amendment 7, Article 3, correct?”
“I mean, yes, but…it is a very long-”
“It is a long bill,” Ms. Bellum agreed. Pulling open one of the drawers on her desk, she
withdrew and placed a manilla folder, full to bursting, on the table, “It’s 2037 pages, Major.
I’ve read it thirty-seven times. The last time I read it was on Tuesday, when I received the
DHS’s official charge against Blossom.”
“Well, then surely you understand-”
“Major, I am still speaking. I will let you know when I am finished,” Ms. Bellum cut him off
again, “To ensure there is no further misunderstanding, let’s take a look at page 1487. This is
Amendment 7, Article 3. More commonly referred to as the ‘Meta-Minors Clause.’ As you
can see here,” Ms. Bellum turned the folder around, pushing it toward the hero, “Any
superheroes or superheroines who have not yet reached the age of majority are to be
conferred certain protections based on their status as minors. Among these protections is the
immutable right to be represented by a parent or guardian until they have reached the local
age of majority. What this means, Major, is that any complaints, concerns, or criticisms are to
be directed to the adult who represents these children. And it is their sole responsibility to
administer any form of corrective action, so long as the infraction incurred is not a Class 0
infraction.”
Ms. Bellum leaned forward, resting her chin on her fingers once more.
“Jurisdiction infractions are a Class 3 infraction.” Ms. Bellum narrowed her eyes. “I don’t
want to leave it merely implied, Major, but your punitive visit to the Utonium sisters on
Monday was in clear violation of Amendment 7.”
Major Glory sat back and swallowed hard.
“M-Ma’am, we attempted to reach out to Professor Utonium, but-”
“Professor Utonium is not the Powerpuff Girls’ legal representation,” There was no longer
any attempt to disguise the bitter cold in her voice, “I am.”
“I-I’m sorry?” Major Glory replied with a squeak.
“As the Powerpuff Girls’ legal representation, I am to be the first and only point of contact
that the United States government has with my clients. If you and your handlers were not
more concerned about appearances and advertising deals, then maybe we could have spoken
under better circumstances and avoided this whole situation. As it stands, I am pressing
charges against the DHS, and you, Major Grant, for targeted harassment against my girls.”
“Madam, you cannot be serious!” Major Glory rose to his feet, bringing his hands down on
the desk with enough force to shake the floor, “A minor error in procedure does not excuse
the flagrant disregard of the law that the Powerpuff Girls have engaged in time and time
again!”
Ms. Bellum, unmoved by the hero’s show of superhuman strength, reached into a different
folder in her desk drawer.
The hero looked down as two new documents were laid out in front of him. They were
photographs, likely taken by a satellite, showing the two different events: The Robo Jojo
being carried into space and the explosion caused by Blossom that had destroyed the island
off the coast of Townsville.
“These are the infractions you’re speaking of, is that correct?” Ms. Bellum gestured to the
seat, “Sit, Major.”
Like a trained dog, Major Glory fell back into his seat. Scooting closer, he glared at the
photographs, searching for some kind of tampering.
“That’s correct. You have photographic proof of her crimes. How does this help your case,
madam?”
“These photographs were taken by Dextech satellites. If you’re worried they have been
tampered with, you can have DHS contact Dexter Cavanaugh, hero alias Dexstar. I
specifically requested his assistance in this case because his satellite technology is far more
precise than that of the United States at this time.” Ms. Bellum pointed to the photograph of
the Robo Jojo with a pen.
“This photograph shows the apex of the Powerpuff Girls’ ascent when carrying the Robo Jojo
into the sky. As you can see by the measurements provided by Dextech, the point where the
Powerpuff Girls let the Robo Jojo fall was 80 miles above the Earth’s surface.”
“Yes, and?”
Ms. Bellum fought the urge to roll her eyes.
“Major, the von Karman Line, commonly recognized as the boundary between the Earth and
space, is at 62 miles above the Earth’s surface.” Realizing he still didn’t understand, Ms.
Bellum allowed herself an exhausted sigh and explained, “By passing the von Karman Line,
the Powerpuff Girls took the Robo Jojo into outer space. This means that it was no longer
within the jurisdiction of the United States of America. In fact, at that point, it was
considered a potential ‘threat’ to the Earth itself.”
“The Powerpuff Girls are classified as ‘Ultra-Super’ class superheroines. They are, as I’m
sure you’re aware, the only Ultra-Super class meta-humans on Earth. Since they are
recognized as Earth’s most powerful defenders, any threat to the planet itself is, per Article 3
of the Accountability Act, within their jurisdiction. And, if we monitor the destruction of the
Robo Jojo, as you can see here,” Ms. Bellum presented a third photograph, showing the
Furious Fiery Feline, but no trace of the robot, “They obliterated every trace of the Robo Jojo
while still above the von Karman Line.”
Major Glory pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Even if that is technically correct, Bloomer-”
“Her name is Blossom, Major.”
“Blossom,” Major Glory corrected before continuing, “Her total destruction of a landmass
outside of Townsville’s city limits is clearly-”
Ms. Bellum interrupted him before he could continue.
“Major, there seems to be a pattern to this harassment.” Ms. Bellum leaned back, turning her
head so that her wild mane of hair hid the tiny smile on her lips, “Time and time again, you
continue to underestimate her. You underestimated her with that inane challenge two years
ago when the girls asked to be part of your team. You underestimated her when she carried
the Robo Jojo away from Townsville and explicitly into a space where she knew she had full
jurisdiction to act, and you’re doing it again.” Ms. Bellum turned back to him, “How many
times will it take before you get over her beating you?”
“She destroyed an island!” Major Glory barked, rising once more to his feet.
“An island that belonged to the city of Townsville.” Ms. Bellum’s immediate response sapped
what little strength remained in the star-spangled hero. She waited until he was safely
collapsed back in his seat before continuing, “Due to the persistent monster attacks that
Townsville suffers, our borders encompass the entire distance between Townsville and
Monster Island. This was done to ensure that the Powerpuff Girls could safely confront the
monsters away from the city without violating the jurisdiction clause.”
As a final blow, the redhead pushed another form toward the hero. He didn’t bother to look at
it.
“I filed the request last year when the Accountability Act was passed, and it was approved a
month later. The United States, as it turns out, didn’t want jurisdiction over Monster Island.
I’m certain you can imagine why.”
Lacing her fingers and resuming her posture from the beginning of their meeting, Ms. Bellum
offered the hero a curt, polite smile.
“Will there be anything else, Major Glory?”
Lurching to his feet, Major Glory stormed to the door without a word.
Wake up.
Blossom’s eyes snapped open. Vision blurry, her head swimming, she faintly heard her own
voice as she moaned and brought her mitts to her face. The room was starting to come into
focus as her head rocked back and forth. The first thing she noticed was that she was in her
room. While that shouldn’t have seemed strange, for some reason there was a blank space in
her memory. Images of the night before flashed in front of her eyes. She quickly sat up,
staring at her hands.
No blood, she thought, with a sigh of relief. Feeling self-conscious, she touched her face,
relieved to find it streaked with sweat, but nothing more. Blossom brought her hand to her
mouth to yawn. As soon as she did, a piercing pain exploded from her middle. She quickly
bit her hand to smother a scream. Her free hand flew to her stomach.
The tube.
Blossom’s breaths became short and shallow, panic quickly setting in as she remembered
feeling cold, wet, and seeing nothing but black and orange. Another pulse of pain shot out of
her side. Curling into a ball, she buried her face beneath her pillow, waiting for it to pass.
What had happened?

Her thoughts were clouded and jumbled. If she concentrated, she could remember everything
up until she left their room after saying goodnight to Ms. Keane. After that, her insides turned
into a blender and she found herself writhing in agony so intense it reduced her thoughts to
little more than static.
“Good morning!” A cheery voice sang.
Someone else fell into bed beside Blossom. When her arms wrapped around the redhead’s
tormented middle, it was like waves on a beach, washing away the filth and pain. She
couldn’t help but purr and snuggle closer.
Bubbles giggled, more than happy to indulge her sister’s unspoken request to cuddle.
“Morning, Blossom, how are you today?” she asked.
“Mmfine,” Blossom responded in a dreamy voice. As if her body was protesting, her stomach
let out a loud, rumbling growl. Blossom felt her face turning a shade of red to match her hair
as Bubbles laughed.
“You sound hungry! Well, wake up, sleepyhead! Ms. Keane says we can have a special
breakfast for doing such a good job on the history test!”
Now, it was Blossom’s turn to giggle.
“Oh yeah, the same history test we took last year, which was the same one we took the year
before. I think it would be more impressive if we’d managed to fail.” Blossom squealed and
giggled, kicking her legs helplessly when Bubbles began to tickle her.
“You’re sassy today,” she teased.
“I’m sorry!” Blossom squeaked between breathless giggles.
Satisfied that her sister had been sufficiently punished, Bubbles gave her a long, tight hug.
Biting her lip, Bubbles was afraid of what might happen if she let go. She almost didn’t say
anything, but her lips seemed to move on their own.
“Do you feel any better, Blossy?” Her voice came out soft, yet hopeful. With every second
that went by without a response, that hope was being replaced by dread. Then, like a net full
of butterflies being set loose, her heart fluttered when Blossom said:
“You always make me feel better, Bubbles.”
Feeling tears prickling in the corners of her eyes, Bubbles gave Blossom another long,
desperate squeeze.
“Hey! You guys gonna stay in bed all day?” Buttercup asked, floating above the pair, hands
on her hips, but a smile on her face. She and Bubbles locked eyes. When the blonde nodded,
Buttercup grinned and plopped down in the bed on the redhead’s other side, “Psh, fine with
me. I ain’t got anywhere to be.”
Six pairs of eyes opened wide when Blossom’s stomach roared once again. The minute it
finished, all three began to laugh.
“Yeah, I’m starvin’ too, where we going for breakfast, Leader Girl?”
“Yeah, what sounds good, Blossom?”
Blossom rolled over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. Bubbles quickly latched onto her
arm, while Buttercup timidly reached for her hand. Holding onto her sisters’ tightly, she let
her eyes drift closed.
Her memories sloshed around her head. Glimpses of blood and broken bones intermixed with
darkness and silence. Flashes of orange, surges of fire and lightning. The pressure began to
build in her head and the pain was starting again in her stomach. Her tongue tingled, a sweet
memory luring her back from the deep end.
Blossom opened her eyes, a smile spreading across her lips.
“I…have an idea.”
The Rite-on-Time Diner was quieter than usual for a Saturday morning. While the restaurant
was never bustling with activity, Ima had come to expect weekends to have some kind of
excitement. And, though she hated to admit it, she had kind of, sort of grown to like her job.
The customers were annoying at worst, but sweet more often than not. She didn’t mind the
routine and the tips weren’t bad, either.
That’s what she thought, turning toward the entrance when the welcome bell rang.
“Welco-” the words caught in her throat when she saw who was walking in. In a fit of panic,
she ducked into the kitchen. Her heart was racing; chest heaving as she tried to catch her
breath.
“You alright, Ima? You look like you saw a ghost, hon,” the owner, Trudy Rite, asked, resting
a hand on Ima’s trembling shoulder.
Ima took a long, deep breath, and slowly let it out.
“Something like that, Tru. I’ll, um,” she licked her lips, “I’ll take care of Table 4.”
“Sure thing, hon.” Trudy gave her shoulder a pat and went back to the grill.
Not for the first time, Ima was infinitely thankful for the old woman’s policy of never asking
questions. Steeling her nerves, and making sure her hair was fixed, she tried to act casual as
she approached the table.
“Good morning! You’re Rite-on-Time! What’ll everyone be having to drink today?”
Blossom looked up, beaming when Ima looked her way.

“Oh my gosh!” Bubbles gasped.
“Woah, what are you doing here?” Buttercup asked.
Blossom frowned at the pair. They were on guard. Buttercup was nearly standing in her seat
and Bubbles had wrapped her arms around Ms. Keane’s. Turning to her teacher, Blossom’s
heart skipped a beat seeing the wide-eyed stare that was fixed on the waitress.
“I work here. So…” Ima took a deep breath, fighting to maintain her practiced, perfect smile,
and to avoid making eye contact with the woman staring at her, “What can I get you to
drink?”
Bubbles squeeze Ms. Keane’s hand, a frown etched on her face.
“Wait, you work here? Seriously?” Buttercup scoffed, “How do we know you’re not-”
“Buttercup!” Blossom snapped, with a bit more bite than she’d intended, “Ms. Goodlady is
trying to work. We should be polite and give her our order.”
Bubbles and Buttercup stared at Blossom, whose eyes were fixed on her menu. Her mitts
trembled slightly as she held the corners in a death grip. The redhead turned to Ima and
offered an apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry, um,” Blossom bit her lip, clearly torn, “Would it be weird if I got hot chocolate
for breakfast?” She glanced up at Ms. Keane. The teacher was still staring, slack-jawed at
Ima.
“Ooh!” The mention of hot chocolate was all it took to get Bubbles’ and Buttercup’s
attention, “Can we, Ms. Keane? Would that be okay?” Bubbles asked.
“Hm? That’s…that’s fine girls…” Ms. Keane barely seemed to process what the little girl had
asked. Her brow furrowed, “Have we-”
“Three hot cocoas and a coffee, coming right up!” Without waiting for any argument, Ima
hurried back to the kitchen..
Ms. Keane stared after her. It wasn’t until she disappeared that the spell was broken. She
turned to the girls, a haunted, yet hopeful look on her face.
“Girls, do you know her?” she asked. Ms. Keane’s heart raced when all three nodded.
“Yeah, she’s-” Buttercup began, only to be cut off by Blossom.
“Ms. Goodlady! Ima Goodlady, we met her a couple years ago.” she quickly explained,
throwing a look at Bubbles and Buttercup that made it clear that they were not to reveal Ima’s
identity. Buttercup silently asked why, but Blossom refused to explain any further.
“Ima. Goodlady.” Ms. Keane repeated with a wistful smile.

“Yeah, she,” Bubbles looked at Blossom for confirmation before continuing, “dated the
Professor.”
Like a balloon popping, Ms. Keane’s expression changed from wonder to uncharacteristic,
incredulous fury.
“She what?!”
“Th-they weren’t really dating!” Blossom insisted, glancing over her shoulder toward the
kitchen. This was not exactly going how she had planned.
“Wait, not really dating? What does that mean?” Ms. Keane asked.
“It means she was just using him so she could ro-” Buttercup hissed when Blossom kicked
her beneath the table. The two glared at one another.
“They were, um…it was…”
Blossom was spared from having to find a way to massage the truth by Ima’s timely return.
The scent of chocolate practically robbed her of her senses. Without waiting, Blossom
snatched her mug and took a long sip from the straw. The sweet, warm liquid quickly settled
in her stomach, giving her a moment’s reprieve from the unraveling sensation that had
plagued her since waking.
It wasn’t until the hot chocolate was gone, seconds after being delivered, that Blossom
snapped out of the cocoa induced trance she’d fallen under. The first thing she heard was her
sisters giggling. The next was Ima’s teasing voice.
“My, someone was awfully thirsty! Don’t worry, hon. I’ll get you a refill. It’s on me.”
Blossom licked her lips and nodded, mumbling a quiet thanks. She lowered her head, hoping
to hide from her sisters’ giggling behind her hair. What started as an embarrassed flush was
becoming a stinging pain in her cheek. Wrapping her arms around her stomach, she bit her lip
to keep from whimpering as her insides began to unravel again.
“Ms. Keane, do you know Se-, I mean, Ms. Goodlady?” Bubbles asked, sipping her own
cocoa at a much more subdued pace.
The teacher held her mug of coffee in both hands, staring at the inky depths. She hadn’t said a
word, and yet her drink was exactly how she’d taken it for thirty years. Was it wise to hope,
or was she just reopening old wounds for nothing? Glancing across the table, she caught
Blossom peeking up at her. The tightness in her chest began to lighten. The redhead’s brief,
knowing smile was all it took.
“Ms. K, you alright?” Buttercup asked, waving her mitt in front of the teacher’s face.
Ms. Keane nodded.
“I am, Buttercup. Thank you for asking.”

“Do you know Ms. Goodlady, Ms. Keane?” Bubbles asked again.
Ms. Keane looked up as Ima came back, setting a fresh mug of hot cocoa in front of
Blossom, who eagerly accepted it. For the first time, she managed to look her in the eye.
Those eyes. Those beautiful, mischievous green eyes. She’d never forget them.
“I used to,” she finally replied. Daring to hope, she added, “And, I’d like to again someday.”
Floating outside, Blossom watched Ms. Keane chat with Ima at the register as she paid for
their breakfast. She wanted to listen in, to see if anything would come from her meddling, but
the instant she tried to use her super-hearing, a splitting headache hit her hard enough to force
her to the ground. It wasn’t just the conversation in the diner, she could hear everything.
Conversations happening in Citiesville, leaves falling to the grass in the forest, a fly landing
on the telescope of Mojo’s observatory and rubbing its legs together.
Mojo’s Observatory.
Just thinking about that place had caused her headache to double. She played it off by falling
into Buttercup and begging for a piggy-back ride, but even that closeness wasn’t enough to
stop the hammers pounding against her brain. Blossom clenched her eyes shut and ground
her teeth. Her stomach twisted and unwound, sending spirals of agony coursing through her
entire body. What had started as a ploy quickly changed to a necessity. She couldn’t walk and
she couldn’t fly.
“-okay, Red?” Buttercup’s voice sounded muffled beneath all the other sounds bouncing
around her skull.
Blossom nodded, though even that brief movement made her feel lightheaded and sick to her
stomach. She clutched her sister tighter, mumbling something under her breath that even she
couldn’t hear. Whatever words had spilled out of her mouth, they seemed to work. Buttercup
adjusted her hold on Blossom’s legs and made no attempt to push her away.
“Sorry, girls, I didn’t mean for that to take so long,” Ms. Keane said as she hurried out the
door and joined them by her car. She couldn’t help but worry, seeing the way Blossom clung
to Buttercup’s back, but she had a feeling that, for once, the redhead wouldn’t appreciate the
attention. Clearing those thoughts, she unlocked the car, “Let’s get on home.”
“Wait! Wait, wait, wait!” An unfamiliar voice cried out.
The quartet looked up to see a young man with scruffy blonde hair hidden beneath a
Townsville High beanie and wearing a letter jacket hurrying over to them. He breathed a sigh
of relief when he reached the car.
“Oh wow, talk about luck. I am so glad you didn’t just vroom out of here,” the young man
laughed, reaching under his beanie to scratch his head.
“Can we help you…sir?” Ms. Keane looked to the girls to see if they recognized him, but
they seemed just as confused by the newcomer.
“Right! Sorry, sorry, I’m, uh, not used to actually getting to do this part,” the young man
fumbled with his pockets, before retrieving a wallet. Flipping it open revealed a badge,
“Detective Harry Shomes, Townsville PD. Wish we were meeting under better
circumstances, but, if I can be honest,” Shomes returned his badge to his pocket with a giddy
grin, “So excited to finally meet you all!”
“Oh my goodness, Harry, is that really you?” Ms. Keane exclaimed, stepping forward to get a
closer look at him. Once he pulled off his hat, she couldn’t help but laugh, immediately
recognizing him from years ago, “You’ve really grown up! It’s been such a long time.”
Shomes laughed, “Yeah, it’s been eighteen years now since you had to put up with me, Ms.
K.”
Bubbles flew up to Ms. Keane’s side, starry-eyed and excited.
“You were in Ms. Keane’s class, too?” she asked.
“Sure was, and I can say this because I’m a cop, so I have to tell the truth, she is still the best
teacher I’ve ever had.” Shomes tossed a sideways glance in Buttercup and Blossom’s
direction, but chose to keep his attention on Bubbles.
“You’re just saying that because I’m standing here, Harry,” Ms. Keane giggled, “But, thank
you all the same.”
“I mean it. If I had more time, I would gladly go through every teacher I’ve had, 1st through
12 and at the academy, and explain to you in excruciating detail how much they sucked,”
Shomes sighed, tugging his beanie back on, “Unfortunately, as excited I am, you girls finally
meeting me means there’s some bad stuff happening.”
“You said you were a detective?” Blossom asked, floating up to Ms. Keane’s other side. The
unease from before was gone. She looked every bit herself as she placed her hands on her
hips and flashed the detective a polite smile, “How can we help?”
Shomes pursed his lips and looked down, struggling to hold back an overly enthusiastic grin.
Failing that, he cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his pockets, keeping his eyes on the
ground.
“That’s right, I am Townsville’s…” A bit of movement caught Shomes’ eye. He looked up to

find himself now standing in front of all three of the Powerpuff Girls. All of them looking to
him expectantly. After one last cleansing breath, he properly introduced himself, “My name
is Detective Harry Shomes, Homicide. I’m investigating a series of violent murders that have
taken place over the last few days on the Eastside of Townsville.”
The strength that Blossom had summoned moments ago bottomed out completely. It felt as if
she’d been ejected from her own body. Watching as she went through the motions: nodding,
scratching her chin, offering theories to the detective. She could no longer hear anything that
was being said, all she could hear was high-pitched static. All she could feel was numb. Her
body knew what to do, even as her mind shut-down, sinking once again into cold, silent
darkness.
Should I tell him?
No! Blossom thought, wishing she could cover her own mouth to keep the truth from
escaping. The detective was handing her a card, his contact information, as well as the
location of the most recent crime. He was apologizing to Ms. Keane, begging her to forgive
him for dragging them into this.
Blossom’s body was staring at the card. Suddenly, her head turned. She couldn’t look away
from her body’s eyes. They were blood red, glimmering with malice. There was a smile on
her face that seemed to go on forever, filled with razor-sharp teeth. Blood was dripping from
her mitts. She was becoming wrapped in darkness. Her face was changing.
“-don’t have to go if you don’t want to. This is a crime for the grown-ups to solve. But…”
Shomes seemed hesitant to continue, “Our initial suspicion is that the culprit has super-
powers.”
Blossom came crashing back into her body. A rush of adrenaline surged through her. Her
vision was red; her insides were on fire. Her tongue felt coated with electricity as words
began to form.
“Do you think it’s the Rowdyruff Boys?” she asked.
“What?!” Buttercup exclaimed.
“No! The boys wouldn’t do something like this!” Bubbles insisted.
“Yeah! They’re jerks, but they’re not killer jerks!” Buttercup nodded, “It’s gotta be Aku,
right? There’s no one else! He probably has some new-”
“The Rowdyruff Boys were his next plan.” Blossom’s words silenced everyone else. The
siren was blaring in her head. She could hear their mocking laughter. She could all but feel
their soft, pathetic faces beneath her trembling fists. “He’s the reason they changed.” Now
that the words were coming, there was no stopping them. Her pulse raced and a sense of
satisfaction flooded her senses as she continued, “It’s the same thing he did to Fuzzy, to the
Robo Jojo, and to Princess. He fuels their hatred. It makes him stronger and it makes them
stronger. That’s why they were so disruptive, to make us mad, to make us hate them because
that’s how he thrives. It’s how they thrive now.”
“There’s no way!” Buttercup looked to Bubbles for backup, but the blonde’s gaze was fixed
firmly on the ground. The raven-haired girl stuttered, but stood her ground, “Okay, maybe
most of that is right, but that doesn’t make them murderers. Whatever Aku had them doing,
they screwed it up!”
“How do you know? How can we be sure this isn’t all just a ploy to trick us into letting our
guard down?” Blossom argued.
How could Buttercup pick them?
Why would she choose them over her?

Couldn’t she understand that this was her only chance…
The look of disbelief in Buttercup’s eyes hurt worse than the molten suffering that was
tearing her stomach apart. Worse than the siren blaring in her ears.
“Because I trust them!”
Those words crashed into Blossom’s heart, like a rock against glass. She could feel cracks
spreading outward, across her entire body. It was becoming harder to breathe. When the rest
of the world was flooded with red, she could always see her sisters. But, as those words
battered around her brain, the red was starting to overtake the shimmering emerald that had
been Buttercup. Turning toward the illustrious sapphire, unable to speak, unable to breathe,
she silently prayed she’d find agreement or understanding behind her blue eyes.
Instead, she found uncertainty and red.
“I…I trust them too, Blossom.”
Those…insolent…insufferable
No.
Why couldn’t they trust her?
Didn’t they…why couldn’t they see that this was the only way.
It had to be the Rowdyruff Boys.
Her head was shaking, but she couldn’t move. She was floating higher into the air, but it felt
like she was being pulled under. There were tears on her face, but she felt like she was
burning up. There were words leaving her mouth, but she couldn’t make sense of them. And,
at the heart of it all, she could feel something inside breaking.
Because…if it wasn’t them…then…
Miserable, pathetic
She could feel the Devil’s fire burning behind the cracks. She could see the glass shimmering
with bitter lightning. In the reflection, she could see her own eyes becoming dying suns. She
could see the Blossom in the mirror reaching out.
Then it was…
BACKSTABBING, HEARTLESS
Looking down at her hands, Blossom stared in horror as the cracks spread across her skin.
The tightly wound wire that held it all together was coming unraveled and she couldn’t stop
it.
TRAITORS
All she could do was run.
“You don’t have to do this,” Shomes repeated for the sixth time. And, just like every other
time, Buttercup scoffed and shook her head.
“Nah, I gotta do this,” she repeated. This time was different; however, because she continued,
“I know she tries to seem tough and like she’s got all the answers, but I think this really
freaked Blossom out. So, if I can help figure out who's doin’ this, I gotta.”
Shomes shrugged, nodding to the officers watching the scene. Horrible as the situation was,
he couldn’t help but feel accepted for the first time since joining the force. After years of
being useless, suddenly he had a purpose.
“Why’re all the cops giving you the side-eye?” Buttercup asked, arms crossed and floating
alongside him.
Shomes laughed, “Well, see, there haven’t been any murders in Townsville since the three of
you showed up. So, I’ve, uh…been kind of a joke. Not much use for a Murder Dick with no
murder going on.”
“Man, that sounds so boring.” Buttercup laughed, “I get it. This is awful, but like…it’s what
you’re good at, right?”
Shomes clicked his tongue and nodded.
“I don’t like to brag, but…I’m a pretty good detective.”
“Heh,” Buttercup shook her head, “I get it. All I’m good at is fighting…honestly, Aku
showin’ up was kind of the best thing that’s happened in a while. I was goin’ crazy from
being bored all the time. Now we’re gettin’ fights like we used to.”
The detective nodded, gesturing at the alleyway ahead of them.
“Life’s like that when the thing you’re the best at isn’t pretty. This way, kiddo.”
Buttercup had experienced a lifetime of blood and gore. Some of her earliest memories were
ripping giant monsters apart and practically bathing in their entrails. While that practice had
certainly made the smell tolerable, there was something far more terrible about seeing human
bodies turned into viscera. As much as she wanted to look tough, her hands immediately flew
to her mouth, desperately fighting back the urge to throw up.
Shomes patted her on the back. His nose crinkled and the corner of his mouth twitched.
“It’s all good. Happens to the best of us.”
After giving Buttercup time to adjust to the site, Shomes approached one of the corpses and
knelt down beside it. He half expected her to leave, but in no time at all, she was hovering by
his shoulder, mitt still covering her mouth.
“So, my best guess is this,” Shomes gestured to the person at his feet, “This was the first
victim. Judging by the cracks on the ground, there was a heavy impact from above. The
cracks are evenly spread in two directions, which makes me certain it was someone landing
on their feet. They’d have to be going really fast, or coming down with an explosive amount
of force to turn a person into…this.” He motioned toward the body.
“After, the other victims—best count I can come up with is six—were startled. A few opened
fire,” Shomes turned, pointing out the bullet holes along the sides of the alley, “There are a
few points where the bullets seem to have ricocheted, which lets us know the culprit was
more than just bulletproof.” The detective took a lunging step away from the starting point,
making his way through the offal like it was nothing.
“The culprit let the victims run their ammo down, likely as an intimidation tactic. Then, they
came this way,” Shomes spun on his foot, throwing a clumsy kick. Slipping on the blood, he
toppled backward. He breathed a sigh of relief when Buttercup caught him. “Whew…thanks
for that. So based on what we can glean from the injuries, I’m certain there was no weapon,
just blunt force. The culprit went…”
Buttercup followed the detective as he painstakingly acted out his theory for how the
slaughter was carried out. She snickered when he nearly fell again, just barely catching
himself before ending up with a face full of filth. At the end of his display, he came to a stop
in the middle of the street.
“And that brings us here. This is the last victim…” Shomes pointed at the side of the
building, “Judging by the splatter here, it was a blow in this direction.” The detective slipped
his hands into his pockets and turned toward her with a shrug, “So, whatcha think?”
Buttercup floated into the air, taking a bird’s eye view of the carnage. She wasn’t Blossom,
she wasn’t an expert at…what had Leader Girl called it? Visual Calculus? That said, she
wasn’t a stranger to a battlefield.
Flying back down, she pointed to part of the ground.
“Whoever did this had heat rays. Or some kind of laser attack.”
Shomes looked at the spot on the ground, tilting his head back and forth.
“I’m not seeing it, what led you to that conclusion?”
Buttercup lowered herself to the ground and knelt down. Some of the pavement was
discolored, though most of it was a smattering of blackened pebbles strewn about.
“So, see how these rocks are like, burnt, but only barely? Well you do that by doing this,”
Buttercup grabbed a rock without any burn marked and tossed it into the air. Then, she fired
her heat rays near, but not into the rock. When it landed back in her hand, it had the same
burn to it that was present on the ground.
Shomes whistled, poking the rock. He immediately pulled his hand back, hissing.
“Hot damn, er, I mean, dang. Good eye. Any thoughts about why we don’t see the concussive
part of your heat rays?” He asked, now looking around for anything that seemed to have
exploded.
Buttercup’s eyes followed the trail left by the burn residue. It ended at the last victim. Flying
over, gestured for Shomes to follow.
“Because whoever fired them didn’t want them to explode. We can control the power of our
heat rays so that they can burn or explode, so we aren’t like, blowing stuff up when we try to
weld something shut.” She explained, pointing at where the black marks ended and she
assumed the victim’s legs used to be. “This kinda control though…”
Buttercup trailed off. The excitement she’d felt just seconds ago was quickly vanishing.
Replacing it was a crushing weight that reminded her of their training bracelets.
“Any ideas?”
“No, sorry.” She responded immediately, in a panicked, hushed tone, “I, um…actually, I gotta
talk to someone.” Before she risked saying anything further, Buttercup zipped away in a flash
of green sparks, leaving behind a cracked imprint on the ground.
Kneeling down, Shomes ran his hand across the new dent in the crime scene. Pursing his lips,
he looked back at the matching point by the first victim.
The Townsville Dump was never known as a happening hang out for the youth of the city.
Laying at the far end of the Eastside and in the shadow of the prison, most reasonable citizens
knew to stay away. The only sign of life was a ramshackle old cabin nestled at the heart of
the dump: the hangout of five of Townsville’s nastiest ruffians, the Gangreen Gang.
These days the gang’s activities had been reduced to the occasional sound ordinance violation
and recreational drug use, mostly alcohol or marijuana. On that particular Saturday, only one
of the eponymous gang members was around. Sitting at a card table, a joint hanging loosely
in his lips, their mostly fearless leader was sifting through a thick stack of papers. Every so
often, he’d shrug and either toss one over his shoulder, or move it to a neater pile to the side.
The floor was littered with pages, while the neat pile was quite thin.
The blaring punk-rock music from the nearby radio drowned out the whoosh overhead and
the door cracking open. Ace bobbed his head in time with the music, taking a drag from his
joint and blowing a ring of white smoke into the air. He jumped when a tiny mitt tapped him
on the shoulder.
“Hm? Oh, uh…hey Buttercup. Uh,” Ace’s eyes bounced from the cigarette in his fingers to
the green-eyed girl looking up at him. “This is, uh, medicinal. I got a doctor’s note.”
“Whatever, I don’t care…” The Powerpuff muttered, taking a seat across from him at the
table. Her head was low, eyes focused on the floor. There was a look of uncertainty on her
face that, through countless capers and schemes, Ace had never seen before.
“One sec,” Ace climbed to his feet and quickly turned off the music. Taking his seat again, he
pushed the papers aside, “You alright, Buttercup? This ain’t exactly one of your usual
hangouts.”
Buttercup’s lips tightened and her brow furrowed. Looking for anything to distract her, she
grabbed one of the papers from the tidy pile. It was an application for Malph’s Grocer. This
was exactly the distraction she needed.
“Since when did you start looking for a real job?” She looked up at him with a raised
eyebrow, “Wouldn’t an apron cramp your style?”
Ace snatched the application from her and put it back in the pile. He considered putting out
his joint, but given the kid’s ambivalence, he instead took another drag, careful to blow the
smoke away from her.
“Ain’t got a lotta other options,” He explained, looking at another application for a second
before throwing it over his shoulder. “Gotta make money somehow and crime just ain’t doin’
it for us anymore.”
Buttercup’s gaze dropped back to the floor.
“Oh, so…you don’t do any bad stuff anymore?” The disappointment in her voice was clear.
Ace raised an eyebrow, “Man, I know I’m high as shit, but you can’t really be tellin’ me you
was wishin’ we’d cause more trouble.”
Buttercup shrugged.
“Maybe…stuff made sense when it was you losers painting graffiti and crap.” Buttercup
sighed, her shoulders trembling.
“Kid, what’s goin’ on? You ain’t yourself.”
Buttercup’s breath hitched. She angrily rubbed her eyes and shook her head.
“...Do you ever go to the Eastside?” She looked up when Ace laughed.
“I’ve lived there my whole life. Take a stroll down Old Sixth every night goin’ home.” It took
a minute for his drug-addled brain to put the pieces together, but when he did, the joint nearly
fell from his lips, “Oh shit, they got you lookin’ into those killin’s?” When she nodded, Ace
finally put the cigarette out.
“Man, that’s rough, Buttercup. You kids is way too young to be gettin’ involved in that.”
With a heavy sigh, he patted the pile of papers on the table, “That shit’s kinda why we
decided to call it quits for good. We hadn’t done nothin’ in months, then some psycho starts
offin’ people in our neighborhood. Made sense to go straight, y’know?”
Buttercup stayed silent throughout his explanation, just nodding along.
“Shit, that really sucks,” Ace murmured.

“Do you…do you know anything?”
There was no force behind the toughest Powerpuff’s question. Her voice was small, hopeful,
but dripping with desperation.
“I, uh…” Ace leaned back, throwing the rest of his applications to the floor. Licking his dry
lips and resisting the urge to light up another joint.
“It…was it the Rowdyruff Boys?”
“What?” Despite the tension in the air, Ace couldn’t help but laugh, “Nah, it wasn’t the Ruffs.
They was with us all last night.”
Buttercup looked up, raising an eyebrow.
“They were?”
Ace nodded, giving in and lighting up another cigarette, “Yeah,” he coughed, waving the
smoke away from the little girl.
“They come by looking for stuff to break every now and then, so we show ‘em the good stuff.
Last night they was looking for tires or balls or somethin’. Hat Boy said it was some kind of
top secret special training.”
For the first time since arriving, Buttercup laughed.
“He’s such a dweeb…” She murmured with a smile. As soon as it passed her lips, it vanished,
replaced by a grimace of horror. If there was no chance that it was the boys…
“Kid? You alright?”
Buttercup swallowed the lump in her throat and angrily rubbed her eyes. Screwing her lips
shut, even she wasn’t strong enough to keep a tear from slipping free.
“Bubbles?” Robin frowned when, yet again, her words fell on deaf ears. Next to her, Bubbles
had been staring at her feet since sitting down on the swing. She hadn’t said anything, leaving
the little girl frustrated and confused. Bubbles was the only one of the three to come home
with Ms. Keane. Normally, she’d have been more than happy to fill Robin in on any of the
juicy details or funny stories from their trip.
It wasn’t like her at all to just close up.
Robin slid to her feet and walked over to the quiet blonde. Even standing next to her, Bubbles
made no indication that she’d noticed. It wasn’t until Robin reached out and took her hand
that the heroine finally looked up. Her eyes were sparkling with unshed tears.
“What’s wrong, Bubbles? What happened?” She asked again. She almost wished she hadn’t,
when Bubbles responded with a strangled sob and latched onto her. Not for the first time,
Robin wished that she was stronger. Wrapping her arms around the trembling Powerpuff girl,
she wished that she was strong enough to do anything except offer a shoulder to cry on.
Bubbles had heard her every time she asked. But, no matter how many times she tried, she
couldn’t figure out what words could possibly explain what she felt. Anything she tried to say
was quickly drowned out by the memory of her sister’s tearful, hurtful words.
“Why don’t you trust me?!”
Of course she trusted Blossom. There wasn’t a person in the world that Bubbles trusted more
than her sister. But, she couldn’t just pretend that she didn’t also trust the Rowdyruff Boys.
She’d seen Butch’s feelings, she’d felt Boomer’s effort, and she’d earned Brick’s praise. They
weren’t perfect boys, not by any means, but they were trying to be better.
The boys were trying, so shouldn’t they try, too?
“They’re trying to turn you both against me!”
She would never do anything to hurt her sister. She may not have been a genius, but she
wasn’t ignorant to how much responsibility Blossom had shouldered for their sake, especially
in the last year. She couldn’t imagine being on any side except Blossom’s. Couldn’t she see
that? Surely she knew how much she adored her.
She had to know.
“Why don’t you love me anymore?!”
How could she say that? How could she ever doubt how much she loved her? What about
earlier that morning? What about when she held Blossom as she cried in the bathroom at
school? Of course she loved her sister. She loved her more than anything. There was nothing
she couldn’t do for Blossom. But, it wasn’t fair to immediately doubt the boys, especially
after how much they’d changed in such a short time.
Why couldn’t she see that?
“I HATE YOU!”
Those words, just as they had then, replaced Bubbles’ thoughts with radio silence. She
couldn’t hear her own sobs, she couldn’t feel Robin’s arms around her shoulders. All she
could hear were those three words, repeating forever, breaking her heart more every time.
She didn’t know where she was. She’d flown without direction, without vision, without any
thought at all. When she finally crashed to the ground, she barely felt it at all. Clutching her
head, wracked with a pain like every stitch that held her together being cut all at once. Her
stomach churned; she lurched forward, blood spilling from her lips onto the ground.
She could feel Fuzzy’s claws ripping her back open again and again and again. Every time it
forced her face first into the dirt. Every time, a silent cry choked in her throat.
The Robo Jojo’s dark spears were tearing her arms and legs apart, over and over without end.
It felt like her skin trying to peel away to let something dark, something unheavenly free
from captivity. Blood splattered the ground as she coughed again.
Her skin was being burnt away by Princess’ darklight. Her hateful light consumed her entire
being, scorching her very soul. It felt like lightning igniting her essence, like the very concept
of Blossom was lit up in devil’s fire that would never stop burning.
The cracks were spreading, starting from her cheek. Like malicious fingers, they crept across
her ivory cheeks and her rose eyes. They spread down her chest and to her stomach. Behind
the cracks, she could hear the voice of the Devil Blossom inside, whispering in her ear.
I hate them.
She didn’t. She could never hate them. She loved them, more than anything in the world.
I hate them all.
No, she didn’t hate them. But…
Blossom dragged herself to her feet. Hot, angry tears pouring down her cheeks. She threw her
head back and screamed, gripping her face, tearing at her skin.
She didn’t hate her sisters…but she did hate.
She hated so…so … so much.
At the temporary station for the Townsville PD, a detective and a tired officer were stuck in a
room with the three most dangerous boys on the planet. Despite Shomes’ insistence that they
were innocent, the captain had demanded that the Rowdyruff Boys be brought in for
questioning. The boys were, however, not renowned for their jolly cooperation. So what
should have been a brief question and answer, in and out in fifteen minutes, had turned into
an hours-long struggle to get even the most basic of answers from the disgruntled
superchildren.
“Boys! Boys, boys, boys!” Shomes groaned, tugging his beanie down over his face, “For the
last time, I know. Listen,” Shomes sat up and leaned across the table, “We are on the same
page! We just need you to cooperate and then we’ll get you out of here!”
“We didn’t do nothing! We don’t gotta tell you nothing!” Brick shot back, for the sixth time
that hour.
“Yeah! We didn’t do it!” Butch chimed in with yet another pointless statement agreeing with
his brother.
Shomes jumped to his feet, throwing his beanie down and marching over to the two-way
mirror. He raised his hands in defeat, not even sure anymore if anyone was monitoring the
interrogation.
At the table, Perez sat with his arms crossed, looking back and forth from one boy to another.
They were all indignant and furious at the accusation, but Brick was clearly the one most
upset about the circumstances. Perez took a sip from his coffee and looked right at the leader.
“Why’re you so upset, son? I thought you were the baddest dude around.”
Brick turned to him, steam rising from the top of his head.
“Because we didn’t kill nobody!”
Perez shrugged, “Never? Why not?”
“Cuz we don’t do that crap!” Brick exclaimed, slamming his fist down on the table, sending a
crack through the metal.
“Really? Why?” Perez sipped his coffee. He could hear Shomes taking a seat beside him, but
refused to break eye contact with the red-eyed Rowdyruff.
“CUZ BEIN’ DEAD SUCKS!” Brick finally snapped, smashing the table in half.
That admission seemed to break the stalemate they’d come to. Before Brick could continue,
Butch picked up where he left off.
“It’s cold, and boring, and quiet! It really freaking sucks!” His eye twitched with every
adjective. Gritting his teeth and grabbing his face, he managed to get it under control again.
“What about the Powerpuff Girls?” Shomes asked, “I thought you were brought back to
destroy them?”
Brick scoffed and crossed his arms.
“Are you stupid? Do you have any idea how boring that would be?” Brick elbowed Butch,
laughing, “You hear this guy?”
Butch joined him, laughing and punching Brick in the arm.
“Dude, that would be, like, ultra-super boring.”
“Mega, radical, gnarly boring.”
“Super, duper, crazy, berserker boring!”
“It’d be the ultimate, biggest, most stupidest boring ever!” All three of the boys laughed.
Boomer snickered and jerked his mitt in Shomes’ direction.
“C’mon man, I’m sposed to be the dumb one. That’s dumber than the dumbest idiot that’s
stupider than stupidest!” Boomer cackled. His brothers doubled over laughing even harder.
Shomes glanced at Perez and shrugged, flashing his partner a subtle thumbs up. In return,
Perez chuckled and drained the last of his coffee, returning the gesture.
Now that they’d cracked the Rowdyruffs, they could finally track down the real culprit.
Heavy dark clouds gathered above the city of Townsville. Lightning flashed and thunder
rumbled, shaking the sturdy foundation of the library. Inside, it was nearly empty, save for the
librarian tending to the non-fiction section, and the little girl hiding at the very back of the
building, waiting at a small table. Her backpack was on the floor next to her, toppled over and
spilling its contents onto the floor. In front of her was a practice worksheet. None of the
answers had been filled in yet.
Blossom arrived several hours ago and sequestered herself to the table she and Boomer
shared two days prior. Before leaving school on Friday, they’d briefly discussed meeting
before dinner, but she couldn’t blame him for being a little late. He was still learning to tell
time, after all. That was what she’d said two hours ago, then an hour ago. As another
booming thunderclap shook the building and the first smattering of raindrops began to fall, a
sinking sensation settled in her stomach. Like a black hole, it slowly sucked away what little
hope she had left.
“Where are you, Boomer?” She whispered, looking toward the entrance.
She was desperate for a distraction, any distraction, from the suffering that had replaced her
every waking moment. She couldn’t turn to her sisters, not after what she’d said. She and
Robin hadn’t spoken all week and it was all but guaranteed that Bubbles would be with her.
Ms. Keane had seen her before and she wasn’t ready to answer for that. Ima…she’d put Ima
through enough for one day. That left Boomer, the perfect distraction.
She hated the Rowdyruff Boys. At least, that’s what she told herself. If she were to be honest,
she hated Brick. Butch was, at his worst, little more than a yes man. Without Brick, he was
harmless, as evidenced by how quickly he and Bubbles had become friends. Boomer…
Boomer was someone that she’d never known she needed in her life.
He was stupid, but earnest. He was slow, but oddly observant. And, he hadn’t laughed her off
or turned her down when she offered to help him. In a lot of ways, he reminded her of
Bubbles. Someone that looked to her for guidance. Someone who admired, instead of
mocking, her obsession with knowledge. He liked to be around her…and she’d come to
realize she liked being around him.
When she helped him, she could ignore the other Blossom’s voice. When he laughed at one
of her lame jokes or nodded along eagerly to one of her explanations, it cooled the heat in her
chest. Sometimes, she could almost see him clearly, through the red.
“Blossom?” A soft, warm voice snapped her out of her thoughts, “You should probably head
home, sweetie. The storm is starting to pick up.”
Blossom stared at the librarian, dumbfounded. She could hear the rain pounding against the
building. But…
“But, I’m waiting for a friend. We were supposed to meet here,” she explained.
“With this weather, I don’t know if they’ll be coming, dear.”
Feeling numb, she nodded and reached for her backpack. Her mitt missed the strap entirely,
but she didn’t bother turning back to get it. Walking on stiff legs, rather than flying, Blossom
made her way to the entrance. The librarian was saying something. All she could hear was
the siren between her ears. Shoving open the door, she stared at the wall of water that
awaited. Yearning for an escape from the fire and lightning pumping through her veins, she
disappeared into the storm.
Though it was flooding the streets, Blossom couldn’t feel the rain. She stumbled down the
sidewalk, face hidden behind a soaked mane of hair, her ribbon drooping until it touched her
head. Her head was splitting in two. The cracks were spreading further. She was already
unraveled and now the thread was snapping.
When her knees hit the ground, she let her head roll back. The dark clouds blotted out even
the faintest ray of light above. Her eyelids fell closed like iron curtains. She didn’t feel her
face hitting the pavement.
Blossom’s eyes snapped open. She was lying on her back, staring up at the dark sky over
Townsville. Heavy steel clouds hung unmoving in the air. The city was completely still.
Every inch of her being felt like it was on fire. The devil’s fire weighed her down, pressing her
into the hard ground. Her skin bubbled and cracked, sparks of hateful lightning spilling out.
She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t cry, she couldn’t move.
Streaks of lightning, sparkling with ethereal light—sometimes emerald, other times sapphire
—arced across the sky. In their wake were flashes of light: white, then orange; cobalt, then
jade and crimson. A booming thunder rolled over the city, shaking the ground. And, like a
valve busting, rain began to pour down from the sky.
She closed her eyes, waiting to drown in the deluge. When the first drop hit her skin, a
heavenly, pristine cold spread from the point of impact. Blossom gasped and arched her back.
Every drop that followed was just as wondrous as the last. Though it hurt, she could finally
move her arms. Pressing her mitts into the pavement, she forced herself into a sitting
position. She gasped again as the water poured down her back, washing away the scars that
had been tearing her apart.
The thunder boomed, another magical bolt of lightning raced across the sky.
Blossom lurched forward, forcing herself to her feet. At first, it felt as if they were made of
glass, ready to break if she took a step. But, as the rain soaked her to the bone, she felt
something replacing the pain.
Strength was filling her once more.
Jerking her leg forward, she took an uneasy step forward. Then, another one. Soon, she was
walking. She lifted her head, seeing the great gnarled tree down the street. A smile tugged at
her lips and, without any further hesitation, she took off running.
Footsteps splashing the chilling water with every heavy step, Blossom kept her eyes on the
tree and the succulent red fruit on its drooping branches. Her smile broke into a grin.
As the black rain flooded the streets of Townsville, it also poured into her, filling in the
cracks, dousing the fire and freezing the lightning in its tracks. When she reached the tree,
she slid to a halt by its roots, breathing in short, excited gasps.
She’d never felt lighter. She’d never felt stronger.
Blossom threw her head back and arms out. She couldn’t hear her own thoughts. She couldn’t
feel anything but pristine, refreshing cold. With a squeal of glee, she twirled around. Her
heart was racing; her body was moving without waiting for her brain to catch up.
Skipping and stomping through the ankle-deep water, for the first time, she didn’t care if
anyone was looking. Kicking up brilliant splashes, whipping her long, soaked hair, she
offered no more resistance. For the first time, she let herself move how she wanted to move.
She sang without caring if anyone was listening.
There was no heat to cloud her heart. There was no lightning to force her limbs. There was
no voice save her own in her ears.
She only stopped when she felt eyes on her. Turning to the tree, she gasped. If it was possible,
her smile grew even more.
It was him. Not a serpent, nor a beast, or phantom. It was him, as he truly was, standing
beneath the sagging branches. His long fingers cradled the fruit that hung within his arm’s
reach, but his gaze was saved for her and no other.
There was nothing but earnest wonder in his eyes. When she waved at him, he lifted a hand in
return, a smile without a hint of malice on his face to match hers. He showed no sign of
retaliation when she rushed toward him.
He had seen her in the rain before, with eyes filled with determination and a heart full of
righteous anger. But, seeing her like this, wild and free, unfettered by the chains of
responsibility and duty that had bound them before, she was breathtaking. The water that
caressed her skin cause it to shimmer and shine in a light that he couldn’t begin to
describe. Her hair was like liquid fire, trailing after her to give her every move an ethereal,
yet primal beauty.
He flinched back when she came to an abrupt halt in front of him, splashing him with the
icy dark water. She giggled—her voice like an angel’s song—and offered him her hand.
He hesitated, grasping the scarlet fruit. But, when she tilted her head and beamed at him, it
was the easiest thing in the universe to accept her offer. Wrapping his fingers around her
porcelain mitt, he found himself tugged off his feet and into a careless, fearless dance.
Aku had seen humans gyrate, sometimes in worship of a lesser god and sometimes as part
of some kind of animalistic mating ritual. He had always found it a degrading, miserable
activity. He was Aku, he had no need for music and even less reason to worship it. When
they danced, they moved with purpose. To impress, to seduce, to give praise.
But, her…this Blossom…
She was nothing like they were. There was no ulterior motive, no greater cause. The way
she moved was for no one but herself. Sometimes she was graceful and divine; at other
times she was erratic and childish. Yet, from pirouette to stomp, twirl to kick, every move
was completely, totally her own.
He was nothing like her. Though he could be anything he desired, he couldn’t begin to
understand what it was to simply be. For him, purpose was what made him Aku. Despite
how stiff and uncertain he was, how he often tripped over himself trying to keep up with
her pace, she seemed thrilled by his mere participation.
Aku laughed, bringing his hands up to protect his face when she kicked a splash of water
twice his size at him. He responded by scooping water into his large hands and flinging it
at her. The pleasant pressure in his chest thrummed with joy when she giggled and
squealed.
The two splashed one another, back and forth, dancing beneath the great tree’s shadow.
Aku looked up, surprised to see that he had lost her. A mighty tug on his arm found them
both tumbling backward into the water. They lay, side by side, hand in hand, laughing as
the storm washed over them. Just as it had to her, the cold water filled the cracks within
him, snuffing out the devil’s fire in his breast and leaving him with nothing but warmth.
He turned toward her. She was staring at him. Her grip on his hand tightened; his fingers
wrapped around her mitt.
Something landed in the water between them, splashing the pair. It was one of the scarlet
fruits. This one was more plump, more juicy than any other.
Their eyes met. Wordlessly, they both reached out, lifting the fruit together. Her breath was
heavy with excitement. He could feel that same thrill fluttering in his breast.
Closing their eyes, the two leaned in and bit into the forbidden fruit. Its taste was sweet, but
tart; filling, yet leaving them yearning for more. Gazing one last time into her eyes, he saw
himself reflected. Gazing one last time into his eyes, she saw herself reflected.
Her heart felt full to bursting. His soul felt alive at last.
Once more, they bit into the fruit together.
A streak of navy blue ripped through the stormy skies. Zig-zagging across the city in erratic,
jagged lines. Boomer came to a stop just as a bolt of lightning flashed in the sky, lightning up
the street. His head swiveled back and forth in a panicked frenzy.
How could he have forgotten? How long was she waiting? Was she still waiting? Guilt tore at
his soul as he resumed his desperate search for Blossom. Where was the library again, he
thought, beating his fist against his head. Why couldn’t he remember anything? Why was he
so stupid?
With a frustrated growl, he threw himself at the street. Looking around, he struggled to piece
together some clue, some landmark to tell him where he was. In the dark, the letters on the
street signs were nearly impossible to read. The buildings were dark, their signs turned off
early.
“BLOSSOM!” Boomer cried out, panting and whipping his head around. Dropping to his
knees, he grabbed his head. With a scream, he punched himself in the face. Again, and again,
hitting so hard his vision swam and blood splattered the street moments before being washed
away.
Stumbling to his feet, his lip busted and his eye swollen, he took a slow breath and closed his
eyes. He thought back to seeing the library. It was clear in his memories. The area around it,
which had once been blurred, had come into focus now. Boomer opened his eyes and took off
into the sky, soaring higher and higher until he broke through the clouds. Now safely above
the storm, he focused his vision and scanned the city one more time.
“There!” Wasting no more time, Boomer rocketed back into the city, landing in front of the
library in seconds. He ran up to the door, only to find it locked. Growling, he banged his fist
against the thick wooden door frame. He was prepared to hit himself again, but in a brief lull
in the storm’s fury, he heard a faint, familiar voice.
“Blossom? Blossom! I’m coming!” Boomer rushed down the sidewalk. He only had to jog a
few yards before spying his friend on the ground.
She was curled up in a ball, completely soaked. As he knelt down beside her, he saw a steady
stream of blood streaming from her mouth and pooling beneath her.
“Hang on! I’m sorry! I’m so, so, so sorry! I promise, I’ll get you home. I promise!” Tenderly,
he lifted her into his arms. Cradling her close, Boomer shot into the sky and above the clouds
once more. Now, he just needed to figure out where she lived.
Bubbles sat on the girls’ shared bed, absently petting Blossom’s long, still drying hair.
It had been over an hour since Boomer arrived on their doorstep, rambling about how he was
supposed to meet her at the library, and how he found her passed out in the street. As soon as
Blossom was safely in Ms. Keane’s arms, Bubbles had thrown hers around the tow-headed
Rowdyruff boy. He hadn’t bristled or growled, or offered any sort of resistance. He returned
the embrace, apologizing that he hadn’t found her sooner.
Before he left, Ms. Keane tended to his broken lip and black eye, then sent him home with
some food for him and his brothers. She hadn’t blamed him. None of them had. If anything,
seeing how deeply he cared about Blossom had just cemented Bubbles’ decision from earlier.
She was certain that they weren’t bad boys anymore.
Bubbles sat up, patting Blossom’s back as a coughing fit overcame the redhead. Holding her
hair back, Bubbles waited until it passed, then wiped the blood away from Blossom’s mouth.
Biting her lip, she laid back down and resumed running her mitt through her hair. Every so
often, she would stir with a whimper, but as long as Bubbles was near, those episodes were
brief.
“What happened to you, Blossom?” she wondered aloud.
How had they not noticed what she was going through? The mood swings, the trouble
sleeping, the sudden bouts of pain. They had chalked it up to the damage she’d taken in their
fights against Aku’s minions, but too late, it was becoming clear that something was very
wrong with the Powerpuff Leader. Thinking back to the fight earlier in the day, Bubbles
couldn’t help but feel like that had been some kind of cry for help.
The blue-eyed puff bit her lip and slid her arms around Blossom, pulling her into a firm
embrace. Silence, save for the occasional strained breath from the redhead, fell over the
room. Letting her attention wander, Bubbles listened in on the television downstairs.
It was an advertisement for some kind of cleaning product with a strange name. Alongside
the television was the sound of Ms. Keane’s pen, making notes and marking down grades.
She could hear her teacher’s lips moving, but quickly turned her attention elsewhere before
she accidentally eavesdropped. In the basement, Buttercup was tearing apart anything and
everything the Danger Grid could throw at her. Despite the sound-proofing in the lab,
Bubbles could clearly hear her other sister’s screams and roars.
Buttercup had come home looking almost as sick as Blossom. However hard Bubbles tried to
pry into what she’d uncovered with Detective Shomes, she was shut down immediately. At
one point, when they were worried about where Blossom was, Bubbles had tried to ask, but
Buttercup had snapped at her, telling her to ‘mind her own damn business.’ Ms. Keane hadn’t
let her off without an apology and a stern talking to, but it wasn’t the words that bothered
Bubbles most. It was the sound of her voice. Buttercup wasn’t angry, she was afraid.
Buttercup wasn’t afraid of anything.
“Mmm…ugh…”
“Blossom? Blossom, are you okay?” Bubbles sat up, watching with bated breath as Blossom
fought to open her eyes. She breathed a sigh of relief and a tearful smile when her sister’s
eyes cracked open and turned to hers.
“B-bubbles? Wh-where…where am I?” Blossom’s voice was somewhere between a whimper

and a whisper. She hissed and coughed up fresh blood as Bubbles helped her sit up. She
immediately doubled over, holding her stomach.
“You’re home, Blossom, you’re home and you’re safe,” Bubbles assured her.
Blossom nodded. She tried to sit up, but collapsed into another coughing fit. This one didn’t
seem to be stopping.
“Oh gosh, here, let me help,” Bubbles wrapped her arm around her weakened sister, lifting
her and carrying her into their bathroom. Holding her hair back, she rubbed her back as
Blossom continued coughing until she threw up in the toilet.
Her energy spent, Blossom slumped to the side, saved from landing face-first on the floor by
Bubbles’ quick reflexes. Her skin was burning up, sweat streaking down her cheeks.
Once Blossom was safely back in bed, curled up and holding her stomach once more,
Bubbles returned to her side. However long it took, she didn’t plan to leave until the redhead
was herself again. Eventually, Blossom’s breath settled and, instead of moaning, her breaths
grew long and sleepy. While she knew to leave well enough alone, Bubbles couldn’t help
asking:
“Blossy…how long has this been going on?”
She felt Blossom go rigid beside her. She clenched her jaw and curled up tighter, biting her
lip until it bled.
“I’m…I’ll be fine, Bubbles.”
“Blossy…why won’t you talk to me?” Bubbles pressed her cheek against Blossom’s. She
didn’t mean to, but she couldn’t stop herself from crying, “You’re not yourself, Blossom.
Something is wrong, but you won’t talk to me or Buttercup about it.”
Blossom folded in on herself even more, biting her lip even harder. She choked back a sob
and shook her head.
“Bubbles, I…”
“Did…did you really mean what you said before?” Bubbles sobbed, her voice cracking.
“No, I…I don’t…I don’t hate you…” Blossom swallowed, no longer able to fight back her
own tears, “I’m so sorry, Bubbles…I’m sorry,” she trailed off, repeating her apology until her
voice gave out. Sucking a sharp breath through her teeth, Blossom added, “S-sometimes…I f-
feel like I don’t know who I am anymore. When I close my eyes…I don’t know if it will be
me opening them again.”
“You’re Blossom,” Bubbles replied, “It doesn’t matter. No matter what happens, you’ll
always be Blossom. Our Blossom; my Blossom.”
“B-but…” Blossom’s voice wavered. The room was starting to spin and the darkness was
reaching for her once more, “Wh-what if…someday, I’m not?”
The siren was filling her ears again. The room was a swirl of red and black as she began to
lose consciousness. Even though the cacophony, she heard her sister’s reply:
“If that happens, then I promise I’ll bring you back. No matter how many times…I won’t
ever let anyone take you away from me.”
Wake up.
Blossom’s eyes snapped open. She was in the bathroom, staring at her reflection in the
mirror. The world was drowning in a sea of red; her head felt as if it would split any moment.
She was dressed in a fresh outfit, her hair flowing free without her ribbon. She blinked and
her reflection changed. Her eyes were bloody scarlet. Quickly wiping the blood from her lips,
Blossom hurried away from the mirror. She paused to look at Bubbles.
Golden blonde hair, undone and framing her angelic face. Despite how deeply Blossom had
wounded her, she held her when she was broken and promised to piece her back together.
When no one else could, she’d been her joy and laughter, bringing a smile to her in the
darkest times. Her pristine sapphire light was slowly being overtaken by the hateful red that
had devoured the rest of the world. She couldn’t dare to face her when the last drop of blue
faded.
“I’m sorry, Bubbles,” Blossom mouthed, not daring to even whisper, lest she wake her.
Slipping out the door, she considered stopping to take one last look at Ms. Keane. The
teacher was staying downstairs, in the Professor’s study. Turning in that direction, she peered
through the walls to where the closest thing she’d ever have to a mother was lying. She had
tried, but even her wise words had failed to quell the darkness into which she’d plunged.
Blossom could only pray that she hadn’t made the wrong decision in bringing her and Ima
back together. If one family had to be torn apart, she hoped that another could be mended.
Floating over the banister and down to the living room, Blossom paused at the door. When
she hadn’t seen her in bed, she had an inkling that this might happen. Taking a deep breath,
she turned to face her sister.
Buttercup stood at the other end of the room, her hands behind her back. Her fierce green
eyes were narrowed, but there was confusion, not anger behind them. Blossom could only
bear to meet her gaze for a moment before being forced to look away. As deep as the red had
become, Buttercup’s shimmering emerald glow still fought back against the encroaching
flames. She was the toughest fighter, right up to the end.
“Hey.”
“Hi, Buttercup…”
“What are you doing?” There was no judgment in her voice. Nothing but a desperate need for
understanding.
Blossom covered her mouth, holding back a cough. Blood trickled from the corners of her
lips, but she didn’t bother to wipe it away.
“I…Buttercup, I…” Blossom looked up. Her heart froze in her chest. Pins and needles ran up
her spine, igniting the fire that she’d been trying to smother.
In her hand, Buttercup was holding the bloody dress that the redhead had worn the last
several nights. She didn’t say a word, just held it out, waiting for an answer.
“Y-you…I…”
“Blossom, what’s going on? Can’t…can’t you just talk to me?”
The crimson haze was starting to pierce through the emerald light that kept Buttercup safe.
With every word more cracks appeared on her sister’s silhouette, mirroring the ones
spreading across her own heart.
“I don’t…I don’t know how…” Blossom admitted. She dropped her head. She had sworn she
wouldn’t cry because this had to be done. This was the only way. She couldn’t even keep that
promise, she thought as tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Did you..?”
Blossom silently nodded.
“W…why?”
I like hurting people.
“There’s this…” Blossom swallowed and focused her eyes on the spot on the floor where the
Professor had spilled water the night before he left. She couldn’t begin to imagine how
disappointed he would be if he knew, “Sometimes…I’m not me. Sometimes, I’m…I’m a
different Blossom. And…and that Blossom…sh-she…she’s the one who…”
“Did he do this?” Buttercup took a step forward, only freezing when Blossom backed away,
“Aku did it, didn’t he? H-his plan…the one you were talking about before. He wanted to…”
“I don’t know,” Blossom lied, shaking her head, “I…maybe it is exposure to his power.
Maybe…maybe it’s just something that’s always been inside me and he just…woke it up.”
Drawing in a deep breath, she finally managed to look Buttercup in the eye, “I’m…I’m
losing, Buttercup. I keep trying to control the other me, but…but it gets so much harder every
time. I…”
The red haze had spread to cover nearly half of Buttercup’s light. The sirens were wailing in
her head. The pain in her abdomen was igniting again. She could feel the fire flooding her
veins.
I’m going to kill every last one of them.
“I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.” Blossom covered her mouth to smother a sob, “I’m
so afraid of what I might do next, Buttercup. I…I…after what happened today…I can’t stay
here. I can’t let you get hurt. I don’t want to hurt you.”
The redhead looked up at a sudden burst of heat. She watched the bloody dress turn to
cinders. Then, with a wave of her mitt, it was gone.
“Buttercup?”
Faster than she could react, Buttercup crossed the distance between them, taking hold of
Blossom’s shoulders. She was crying, big hot tears streaming down her face. With a tiny
whimper, she pulled Blossom into her arms.
“Please don’t go…pl-please, Blossom. I…I won’t tell anyone. W-we can figure this out. You
always figure it out.” When Blossom tried to pull away, Buttercup’s hold grew tighter and her
voice grew more desperate, “Please don’t leave me, Red.”
With trembling mitts, Blossom returned Buttercup’s embrace. She wanted to close her eyes,
to enjoy the moment while it lasted. But, she didn’t dare trust the lightning thrumming
beneath her skin. She couldn’t risk closing her eyes with the emerald light as weak as it had
grown.
“I don’t want to leave you, Buttercup. But I can’t let you get hurt because of me. I’m…going
to see someone. I…I think they can help.”
“Who?” Buttercup tried to pull away, but now it was Blossom’s turn to refuse to let go.
“Please, Buttercup…promise you still believe in me.”
Buttercup buried her face in Blossom’s shoulder, wanting to squeeze her with all her strength,
but frightened that she might break if she did.
“Of course I do…you know I’ll follow wherever you lead, Red.”
Blossom closed her eyes and smiled
“Thank you, Buttercup…I love you.”
“I love you t-” Buttercup’s words got caught in her throat. An earth-shattering pain radiated
up from her middle. Struggling to breathe, the world around her quickly faded to black.
Blossom kissed Buttercup’s cheek and gently lowered her to the ground. A dark bruise was
quickly forming just below her chest. Wiping the tears away from her rose-red eyes, Blossom
pulled the door open, staring out at the quiet night. With one last look back at her sister, she
was gone, a fading pink light disappearing into the darkness.
Endless Possibility
Chapter Summary
A scientist is dragged into the blackest pit of his soul. A villain cries out for help from
the only family he has left. A teacher dares to hold onto hope as the world falls apart
around her. An officer and a detective discover a truth neither was ready to know. Three
little boys are faced with a choice that will change their lives.
Two little girls stand between their home and an approaching inferno.
And a heroine and demon seek each other out in a city of evil.
“What the?!” The Professor spun around, eyes widening and blood running cold.
A toppled beaker stand lay at the edge of the table. A smattering of the Source trickled over,
dripping to the floor where a sinister light was pulsing just out of view. As the Professor
rounded the corner, he could see shards of glass spraying out from the point of impact. The
glow was coming from a writhing, mewling mass sitting in a thin, bubbling pool of the
Source.
His forgotten coffee mug slid from his numb, shaking fingers.
The Professor took a step forward, stopping when the creature looked up at him. He could see
streams of red darker than blood filling its once loving, curious eyes. He stood transfixed as
its expression changed from shock, to fear, and finally to hate.
The creature’s pathetic mewling was replaced by a deep, rumbling growl. Rising to its feet,
the pool of darkness below latched onto its burnt, frayed fur. It sunk into his skin, filled his
ears and nose. Sigma’s jaws opened, revealing a set of quickly growing fangs. He took a step
forward. His once tiny paw, now the size of a grown man’s hand, cracked the linoleum floor.
His tail swung, sending a stool flying as if it were weightless.
Drawing in a deep breath, Sigma unleashed a roar: a strangled sound somewhere between a
dying gasp and a furious scream. He took another step forward. He was growing at an
impossible rate. Once able to comfortably sit in the Professor’s lap, in mere moments, he had
grown to the size of a golden retriever. His bones crunched and body jerked to the side, one
leg growing twice as long as the other.
“W-what…what have…” The Professor’s mouth moved uselessly. It wasn’t until he hit the
window that he realized he was cornered. His jaw tightened and his stomach churned.
The cat roared, his ears growing long and curved. Boney black spines rose from his back,
splattered with blood as they ripped through his skin. Sigma snarled at the Professor. One eye
was milky-red, unblinking and unseeing. The other had grown twice as large, steam rising
from its burning surface. As the heat burnt the fur from the poor cat’s face, the Professor
could see sickly green skin beneath.
“Sigma…”
The cat’s working eye snapped open, flames pouring from the iris. With a roar, it clumsily
lunged at the Professor. Its unwieldy charge missed the Professor, shattering the window
instead. It flinched away from the cold rain, roaring back at the sky when another peel of
thunder boomed.
The moment his hip hit the ground, the Professor rolled over and lurched to his feet. His hand
flew to his side, but he knew he didn’t have time to check the damage. Stumbling across the
lab, he reached for the first thing he could find: the beaker stand that the curious cat had
knocked over. Gripping it tight in his shaking hands, he whipped around and swung with all
his might.
The blow caught the side of the beast’s head. It fell to the ground, but quickly rose. With a
guttural roar, it took another lunge at the Professor.
The scientist bashed it aside with another blow. When it fell this time, he took another swing
and then another. When the monster roared and tried to stand up, he screamed and brought
the base of the stand down on the creature’s neck with all his might.
Hands shaking and heart pounding, the Professor let the stand—it was little more than a
twisted mess of metal now—fall, clattering on the floor. He stumbled back a step when the
creature stirred, raising one of its massive paws, now larger than the grown man’s head.
Sigma brought his paw down, throwing up a cloud of dust. Despite his strength, he couldn’t
make it to his feet. His neck was twisted at an unnatural angle, his gaping maw hanging open
and leaking blood. The beast groaned and the fire in his eye re-ignited.
“No, just, just stay down. Please, Sigma…” Professor Utonium begged. The pain radiating
from his hip had grown to the point he couldn’t ignore it anymore. One hand clutched his
side while the other blindly reached for any protection.
The beast’s head spun around, righting itself with a sickening, wet crack. His mouth fell
open, lower jaw scraping the floor, as if he were trying to devour the entire room. When he
looked up, four metal feet pierced his face.
Screaming, from a maddening mixture of pain, fear, and desperation, the Professor brought
the stool down over and over, smashing the creature’s head. Every time it so much as
twitched or jerked, he brought it down harder. He didn’t dare stop until his strength gave out.
When the spell passed and his vision cleared, the Professor saw his lab doused in blood and
black tar. At his feet was a mess of mangled flesh and burnt fur. His hands were shaking,
fingers heavy with his former companion’s blood.
“Sigma, I’m…I’m so sorry…” he whispered, touching what remained of the cat’s face. His
heart seized in his chest when the beast’s eye opened. Though it was still clouded in red fog,
there was no more heat. There was no hatred. There was nothing left but pain.
That night, the Professor realized that he could no longer deny just what it was with which he
was experimenting. Just a few milliliters of the Source was all it took to turn a housecat into a
hell beast. Just a moment of distraction was all it took for disaster to strike.
There was no peace behind his friend’s tormented, burning eyes. There was no brighter future
at the bottom of the pit from which it came. There was no good that could come from
tampering with evil in its truest form.
He knew that quitting was the right thing to do.
If he were a wiser man, he’d have buried Sigma, turned in his keys, and gone home. He’d
have burnt his notes. He’d have destroyed the Source.
The Professor climbed to his feet. Wiping the blood away from his face, he stepped over what
was left of the cat, returning to his journal. His hands shook as he lifted it, bloody
thumbprints staining the page.
Picking up his pen, Professor Utonium turned to a new page. At the top he wrote:
“Live Test Subject #1.”
There were a million things he would have done differently if only he were a wiser man.
“-ercup? Bu…ercup, are…alright?”
A concerned voice stirred the green-eyed Powerpuff girl awake. She groaned and her mitts
immediately flew to the throbbing, sore spot just below her chest. Buttercup forced her eyes
open. The room blurred and spun around her. She hissed, mitts moving to her head. She
flinched when a gentle hand touched her side.
Ms. Keane frowned and helped her to sit up, “Buttercup, are you alright? What happened?”
It was still early in the morning, the first rays of sun peeking through the blinds. She’d been
half-asleep when she left the study, nearly tripping over the little girl blacked out in front of
the door. It was faint, but she could make out the scent of something burnt. The front door
was cracked open, but, other than the prone Powerpuff girl, there was no sign of an intruder.
Ms. Keane clearedher thoughts when Buttercup groaned and tried to speak. Her words
seemed stuck in her throat.
“I c-couldn’t…I didn’t…” Buttercup doubled over coughing. Between heaving breaths, she
tried to choke down the tears welling in her eyes. Every moment of her last conversation with
Blossom played on repeat in her head. Her voice cracked as a sob escaped.
Ms. Keane scooped Buttercup into her arms and held her tight. Her eyes scanned the room,
seeking for any clue to the countless questions she had. Smelling ash again, she followed the
scent. Her eyes fell upon a single, frayed strip of pink cloth. The teacher’s heart froze in her
chest and her stomach bottomed out.
She couldn’t bring herself to say what she was thinking. When she finally tried, a memory
stopped her in her tracks:
I don’t know how to win, Ms. Keane.
It couldn’t be. She refused to entertain the thought. And yet, as Buttercup continued to cry
and her mind continued to wander, she found herself led back to the same conclusion.
Licking her lips, her mouth cotton dry, Ms. Keane forced them to move, praying she was
wrong about the question to which she already knew the answer.
“What…what happened to Blossom, Buttercup?” Her bruised heart shattered when the
toughest girl she’d ever known cried harder.
“I…I…I c-couldn’t…I couldn’t st-stop her fr-from…fr-from l-le-leav-” Buttercup trailed off,
finally curling into the older woman’s embrace, the last of her defenses crumbling.
Ms. Keane clutched Buttercup close to her chest. She searched for something, anything she
could say to make it all better. But as she racked her brain, the painful realization quickly set
in: she couldn’t even begin to find the words to speak.
Her legs were stiff and her body numb as she dizzily rose to her feet. Before realizing that she
was moving, she was on the couch, staring blindly into the distance.
I just know I’m going to lose.
For three years, she’d watched the Powerpuff Girls learn and grow. For three years, she’d
been with them every step of the way, guiding them and doing everything she could to try to
keep the radiance she’d come to see in them shining bright and strong. She loved them as if
they were her own. How, then, could she have missed something so obvious?
She knew that something was wrong. Blossom wasn’t a liar and when she tried to be she
wasn’t a very good one. She’d known that something was off since Monday, when she held
her as she worried about lying to her father about her power. Tuesday only made it more clear
with her outburst caused by Brick’s teasing. Every day another sign. Every day she let it go.
Whatever demon had come to haunt Blossom, she wouldn’t let anyone else face it. In fact, as
she struggled through a losing fight, she managed to find someone that Ms. Keane had
thought lost forever. Even when shouldering the weight of the world, even when drowning in
her own darkness, she tried to help everyone but herself.
Ms. Keane didn’t need Buttercup to spell it out. The burnt scrap of Blossom’s dress, the
raven-haired heroine’s bitter mood and refusal to speak about her investigation. She had
found the truth and saw that it was a horrible truth.
Hugging her tight as she could, Ms. Keane kissed her head and whispered, “Everything is
going to be alright, Buttercup…I promise, everything will be alright…” Her words were
hollow, but she said them again and again.
“Everything is going to be alright.”
If she kept saying it, she might begin to believe it herself.
Ms. Bellum never overslept. She set her alarm two hours before she had to be up, prepared
her meals the night before, and had everything ready to head out the door before she went to
bed. In twenty years working for the Mayor, she had—with the sole exception of the time
when she’d been taken captive by Sedusa—never been late or missed work.
It was for that very reason that she cursed aloud as she pulled into her parking spot at
Townsville Hall, twenty minutes past her regular arrival time. Shaking her head, she hurried
out of her car and made her way up the steps. Her alarm hadn’t gone off, her keys weren’t
where she knew that she had left them, and her car refused to start. What she hoped would be
an uneventful Sunday was quickly turning out to be anything but.
Smoothing her dress and centering herself, she stepped into the building with her usual cool
grace. Setting her belongings down on her desk, she glanced in the direction of the Mayor’s
office.
‘That’s odd’, she thought. The door was cracked open. Even if she was twenty minutes late, it
would still be at least an hour before the Mayor made it to work. She paused when she
reached the door, hand resting on the heavy wood. She could hear strained breathing inside.
“Enter, Ms. Bellum,” a low, gravely voice barked.
The redhead narrowed her eyes and pushed the door open. The room was dark, the blinds
pulled shut over the window that looked out at the city. The Mayor’s chair was facing away
from her, but she recognized the familiar metal sheen poking out over the top.
Ms. Bellum stopped in the middle of the room and crossed her arms.
“I don’t believe you have an appointment, Mojo,” she pointed out with a hint of amusement
in her voice. The barely perceptible smile she wore vanished when the chair swiveled around
to reveal the supervillain.
His eyes were the first thing she noticed. They were bloodshot, darting uneasily around the
room. His foot tapped restlessly and his fingers scratched and drummed on the chair’s arms.
The pair locked eyes, but Mojo was quick to look away.
“Call the Powerpuff Girls.”
Ms. Bellum sighed and shook her head.
“Mojo, isn’t it a bit early in the-”

The villain rose to his feet, slamming his hands on the Mayor’s desk. The loud crack of his
palms hitting the wood hung in the still air for nearly a full minute before he continued.
“Call the Powerpuff Girls…the city needs to be saved and, as they are its defenders, only
they can save it.”
Ms. Bellum studied Mojo’s twisted expression. Keeping her eyes on him, she made her way
to the Hotline.
“Save it from what, Mojo?” She asked.
Something outside the window moved. What little light had managed to peek through the
blinds was blocked out by a massive metal shadow. Its eyes opened and plunged the room
into hell.
The morning sunlight spilled into the Powerpuff Girls’ room, gently falling across the tangled
sheets and covers before resting on a mane of blonde hair. The twittering birdsong outside
was joined by an equally melodic yawn as the bed’s sole occupant began to stir.
Bubbles pushed the covers away, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.
“Good morning, girls,” she yawned again, turning to the window with a smile. A sob from
downstairs tore her free from her morning calm. She looked back to the bed with a frown,
“Girls?”
Tossing back the covers revealed she was alone. She heard another sob and this time
recognized the voice.
“Buttercup?” Bubbles whispered, afraid that the pit in her stomach may swallow her whole if
she dared to call out to her sister. Returning her gaze to the bed, she stared at the empty spot
in the middle, “Blossom?”
It was then that Bubbles noticed the birds had stopped singing. The silence that settled in the
room was anything but peaceful. She could feel her heart pounding in her throat as the pit
inside grew larger still.
“What’s that?” Bubbles sat up straight, looking around the room. Hearing it again, she peered
over the edge of the bed, spotting one of Octi’s legs poking out from beneath. She breathed a
sigh of relief and slid to the floor, plucking Octi from the floor and hugging him tight.
“Hm? Wait…is that you, Octi?” Bubbles asked, holding the doll at arm’s length. It’s vacant
eyes met hers and its vapid smile seemed different somehow. She gasped, dropping him to
the ground when she heard it again. “It is you! You can talk?”
Octi simply stared back, unmoving.
Bubbles giggled, “Well, I guess that’s true…why didn’t you ever say anything before?”
Octi’s answer was interrupted by Ms. Keane’s voice below. She was talking to someone on
the phone. Bubbles’ smile faded. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she turned toward the
door.
“I think something really bad happened last night…Octi, do you know where Blossom is?”
she asked, turning to face the doll again. She gasped, hands flying to her mouth, “Don’t you
dare say that! She wouldn’t leave us without saying anything!”
He stared back patiently.
Bubbles’ anger faded, replaced by an uneasy frown.
“Maybe you’re right…she…she did run away that time. But…but!” Bubbles lifted Octi,
holding him at arm’s length once again, “But…why is Buttercup so upset?”
Tears welled up in her eyes. Biting her lip, she shook her head.
“She wouldn’t…she’d never do anything like that…”
Before they could argue any further, a piercing buzz drowned out the rest of the noise in the
house. Bubbles looked up at the phone stand, staring at the pulsing red light. As she rose into
the air and prepared to answer the phone, it stopped ringing.
“Hello, Powerpuff Hotline, can I help you?” asked Ms. Keane.
The ground shook. Bubbles rushed to the window.
On the bed, Octi watched her with a knowing smile.
Perez hobbled into the police station, leaning heavily on his cane. He had meant to come in
earlier, much earlier, but for the first time in years he overslept. He didn’t think anything of it
at the time, in fact, he was more surprised he hadn’t blacked out sooner. Since teaming up
with Shomes, he hadn’t slept more than an hour a night.
Nodding to the emergency operator who cast a familiar smile his way, he made a beeline for
his desk. He paused. Someone was already at his desk.
“Shomes? God damn, man, have you slept?” He called out. He found a free chair and took a
seat behind the young detective.
There was none of the usual boyish charm on the young detective’s face. Moving like a man
possessed, he rewatched the video on the monitor, filling the paper in front of him with
unintelligible scribbles and chicken scratch. He didn’t look up until Perez rapped his cane
against the desk. When he did turn to face his partner, there was a haunted look in his eyes.
“Perez? What are you…holy shit, what time is it?” Shomes looked around in bewilderment.
He flinched when Perez rapped on the desk again to get his attention.
“A bit after seven, were you here all night? When’s the last time you slept?” Perez asked
again.
The detective turned back to the monitor. His expression was blank as he stared at the image
on the screen without even breathing.
“I…” Shomes smothered a yawn, scrambling to his feet and motioning for the officer to take
his seat, “Watch this. Just…just watch this man.” He wiped his mouth and moved back.
Lowering his voice, he continued as Perez took a seat, “Tell me I’m crazy, please tell me I’m
crazy…”
Unnerved by the change in the detective’s demeanor, Perez rewound the video and pressed
play. It was black and white security footage with Wednesday’s date at the bottom right
corner. He recognized the apartment complex from the second set of murders across the
street. For several minutes, nothing happened. Then, the door cracked open. A head poked
out for a split second before the ground erupted into a cloud of dust and debris. When it
cleared, the sidewalk was splintered and a headless corpse lay in the doorway.
For the remainder, he could make out movement in the building, but nothing concrete. Near
the end, he saw a silhouette fall just out of the camera’s view. There was one last bit of
movement, then everything went silent. The feed continued for another minute before
stopping.
“Well?” Shomes asked urgently. When Perez didn’t reply, he took a shaky breath and asked
again, “I’m crazy, right? C’mon, man, you’ve gotta tell me that I’m crazy.”
‘What is he talking about?’ Perez wondered, rewinding the video. This time, he played it at
half-speed, focusing on the doorman’s death. Even at that speed, there wasn’t much he could
see. Just a glimpse of the lookout one second, then a cloud of dust and blood the next.
Rewinding again, he slowed it down as much as his tired old computer could manage.
Perez’s mouth fell open. There was a frame, so brief he rubbed his eyes to make sure it
wasn’t fatigue fooling him. For a single frame, maybe less than a fraction of a fraction of a
second, there was a shape visible colliding with the doorman’s head. He leaned forward to
wipe his monitor, hoping against hope that it was just dirt.
The shape was moving so quickly that the camera could only capture it as a smudge. Maybe
that’s all it was. Some dead pixels or some kind of distortion in the video. But…if he
squinted and turned his head just right, he could almost make out two points at the top of it.
They looked like horns or rabbit ears…or maybe even…
“H-Harry,” Perez’s voice cracked. His throat had never felt drier. His lungs began to ache,
reminding him to breathe. “You…y-you gotta…” Perez drew in a shaky breath, “You gotta t-
tell me I’m crazy…”
A siren suddenly blared overhead. Perez nearly toppled out of his chair when the ground
shook. Shomes fell to his knees, his face just missing the corner of the desk. The monitor
went black and the power went out, plunging the station into darkness. The siren went trailed
off, its last sound holding on like a dying cry.
“We got a Mojo attack!” The captain called over the commotion, “Let’s get moving! We gotta
get people to safety until the girls arrive! Move, people!”
Shomes helped Perez to his feet. The officer leaned on his cane, more desperately than when
he’d arrived. Time seemed to have slowed to a crawl as the pair made their way to the front
of the station. The detective kept a death grip on the officer’s arm to keep his partner from
falling and to keep himself from being swept away.
“Perez! Shomes!” The captain called, his voice a thousand miles away.
Perez turned first, clutching his cane until his knuckles turned white. He opened his mouth to
respond, but his voice was drowned out by another quake that shook the building.
“Got a special case for you two,” the captain explained, forcing his way over to them. He
waited until most of the building had cleared out before continuing in a low voice, “Missing
person case, top priority.”
Shomes shook his head, “Cap, we’ve got a high prio case already. Shouldn’t we-”
The captain raised a hand to cut him off.
“It’s related to your case. I just received a call from Ms. Keane.”
Neither officer dared to breathe.
“She says Blossom has gone missing. No leads, but it’s extremely plausible that Aku is
behind it. Since there is an equally high likelihood that your murder case is tied to Aku, it
makes sense to assume the two are related. You have to find Blossom before something
terrible happens.”
Perez heard himself assuring the captain that they’d get on it immediately. He thought he
heard Shomes saying the same. When the captain was gone, the two traded a glance. All
Perez could think as the pair made their way out the door was ‘Our father who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name…please, for the love of everything good in this world, let me be
crazy.’
Although it had been years since she last set foot in Citiesville, she found that she recognized
the shore on which she now stood. Tilting her head slightly, she turned to face the bridge that
connected the two cities. Behind her was the river, plastic and paper garbage bobbing on the
surface. Making her way toward the underpass, the dirt felt familiar beneath her feet.
She paused in the shade, peering into the darkness. She was alone. That was unusual, she
thought, recalling the drunkards and bums who had harassed her and her sisters when they
were forced to wade through the river on that terrible night long ago. Scanning the underside
of the bridge, she peered up at the graffiti.
“Mic, that you? If it ain’t, you better get out of here. I’m waiting for someone,” The gun fired,
the bullet sinking painlessly into her skin before dropping uselessly to the ground.
Blossom turned around slowly, dragging her feet along the ground. She remembered him.
Standing there, the gun held clumsily in his shaking hands.
She was suddenly aware of her arms dangling at her sides.
Her hands felt heavy, waving back and forth rhythmically, dragging her long, razor-sharp
claws along the concrete. Sparks flew from the ground as she approached the drunk old man.
She couldn’t help but smile, taking another lazy step toward him.
He took two more shots at her. The first sailed harmlessly by her head. The second hit her
chest. Black ooze began to pour from the wound.
Blossom touched her chest, biting her lip. In an instant, she was in front of him, her claws
shredding his arms to ribbons with a simple swipe of her hand.
The old man screamed, staring at what remained of his arms. He tried to turn and run, but
tripped, falling face-first into the blood pooling beneath him. When he looked back at her, she
couldn’t help laughing.
“Run” she said, daring him to escape.
He tried to flee, but before he could crawl more than a few inches, she pounced, sinking her
claws into his back. They slid through him like a hot knife through butter, splintering the
concrete beneath him as if it were made of Styrofoam.
“Too slow,” she teased, ripping her claws free from him.
Blossom blinked. The man was gone. The blood was long since washed away. But, although
it was just a memory, she could still taste his fear on the tip of her tongue. It was…
Intoxicating
The redhead tore her eyes away from the spot where the man had died, pressing her mitts
against her eyes. When she opened them, the world was bathed in red. Staring at her arms,
she could see the cracks spreading further. She could see the darkness beginning to seep out.
“I have to find him…” She murmured, hugging herself tight. Instinctively, she rolled her head
back and breathed in the city’s filthy air. The world pulsed with her heartbeat. Something was
pulling her, leading her. Not daring to fly and not wanting to draw unwanted attention, she
followed the scent of blood deeper into Citiesville.
By the time the Powerpuff Girls reached Townsville Hall, the city was already burning.
Smoke filled the sky, blotting out the sun, while buildings crumbled and civilians fled from
the carnage. The streets were full of overturned and crashed cars and a fire hydrant, knocked
from its foundation, was spraying a geyser of water into the air.
The pair floated back-to-back, trying to take in everything at once. Despite the destruction,
there was no sign of the culprit.
Buttercup drew in a short, raspy breath. Her thoughts raced, but they were jumbled and
incoherent. She knew they needed to do something, but, no matter which way she looked, she
could see destruction and mayhem, but nothing at which she could swing her fists. Her
breaths came shorter and faster. The fire was blurring into the smoke which blurred with the
water. The screams were getting louder, smothering her unreadable thoughts.
“Buttercup!” Bubbles’ voice pierced through the rest of the chaos, catching the raven-haired
heroine’s full attention, “We have to do something…I’m going to get everyone out of here,
okay?”
Buttercup blinked, thankful to see Bubbles’ face come into focus. Shaking free the cobwebs,
she nodded, turning toward the fire.
“Right, you’re right. We gotta make sure it’s safe to cut loose. I’ll look for Mojo, you can-”
Before she could finish, the ground shook causing a nearby building to begin to collapse. The
duo sprung into action: Buttercup zipped through the air, smashing aside the falling debris.
Bubbles raced into the building, pulling the people still trapped inside free and depositing
them safely on the street below.
“Hurry! Go, go, go!” Bubbles shooed them toward the officers that were helping with the
evacuation. She turned her gaze skyward, watching Buttercup finish off the rest of the debris.
The two met up again in the air. Blue eyes scanned the ground; green eyes scanned the
horizon.
“So…you have arrived,” a grave voice boomed.
The Powerpuff Girls turned toward the source, staring in awe as the smoky skies cleared and
the flames parted to make way for Mojo’s latest creation.
It towered over the city, standing taller than any machine, any monster that had come before
it. Its crimson shell seemed to defy reason, not reflecting the sun’s light, but instead
challenging it with its own searing heat. There were no legs holding it up, instead four thick
tentacles, too long to measure at a glance, held up its massive chassis. Within its massive
chest, through an opening like a cannon, was the source of its power: a core that shined like a
wicked star.
The clouds parted as it lowered itself to their level. Like some unholy snake beast, it had
three heads with fiery eyes, crooked horns, and gaping maws each wide enough to eat a
skyscraper. The Infernal Machine glared at them, unblinking, unrelenting.
“Mojo? Is…are you in there?” Bubbles asked. No matter how hard she strained her eyes, she
couldn’t see through the machine to find its pilot. She swallowed nervously, flinching back
when one of the heads responded with a metal roar and leaned in closer.
“Where is she?” Mojo asked, his voice seeming to come from all three heads at once.
“Where is…” Buttercup grit her teeth. The strange panic she’d felt before was quickly fading,
replaced by fury and purpose. Her fists ached, clenched at her sides, eager to get to work,
“That’s none of your business! Once we’re through with you, we’re gonna find her and take
out Aku!”
“Aku? She’s…not with you? No, no, no, no…how? This isn’t right. This is wrong. She was
with you yesterday. I know it, I made sure of it.” There was a tremble in Mojo's voice. As he
rambled on, his voice grew scratchy and his words began to slur together.
“What does that mean?” Bubbles asked, her fear forgotten and her heart swelling. She
narrowed her eyes, thrusting her mitt at him, “If you did something to Blossom-”
“NO!” Mojo cried, his voice cracking, “You cannot win without her…you must find her,
before it is too late! Please, only she can stop-”
The Infernal Machine lurched back, all three heads roaring. The star in its chest burned
brighter still, turning the air around it red and causing the street to steam and crumble. Mojo’s
voice was gone as it turned its gaze once more on the Powerpuff Girls. Without warning, the
left head lunged for them.
“Scatter!” Buttercup shouted. The two separated, barely managing to avoid the initial strike.
The raven-haired heroine didn’t wait for a follow-up, instead rocketing toward it. She
collided with the back of the head that had snapped at them, her blows bouncing off
harmlessly. Rather than backing off, she latched onto it, pulling back her fist and unleashing
another earth-shaking blow.
Her hair began to rise, power radiating from her skin. She threw another punch, faster, harder
than the first. Then another, and another, until her arms were a blur. Something sticky and
wet hit her cheek, but she persisted.
Her furious assault came to an abrupt halt when it threw its head backward, flinging her into
the air. Spinning around, she righted herself in time to see the other two heads heading her
way, smoke pouring from their nostrils, flames flicking passed their teeth.
With a grunt, she disappeared in a flash of sparks. She landed feet-first on the body of the
Infernal Machine, a shockwave bursting out from the point of contact, blowing back the
wreckage in the street and blasting the buildings still standing around them.
“Buttercup, look out!”
Looking up, the sky was filled with fire headed straight for her. Snarling, she drew in a deep
breath. Deeper and deeper still, she drew the fire into her lungs. Her head swam. The flames
continued. Her chest ached. Something overhead blocked out the sun.
A pair of heat rays split the endless deluge of fire, slamming into the Infernal Machine’s head
and knocking it backward. Its fangs collided against its chassis, a green streak slipping past at
the last second. As it rose into the sky, it began to spin. Whipping around at breakneck speed,
it formed a pale green swirl. The sky lit up as flames erupted from the center of the tornado,
setting it ablaze. The toppled vehicles below were lifted into the whirlwind, filling the flames
with molten slag and shrapnel.
It took only a second for it to form. Then, quicker still, it swept toward the Infernal Machine.
On collision, it exploded outward, consuming the entirety of the metal colossus.
On the streets below, a streak of blue raced through the destruction, snatching up anyone who
hadn’t been fast enough to get away. Bubbles rocketed down the street, depositing the people
she’d grabbed into the Townsville PD’s waiting arms. Without a word, she quickly returned
to the fray.
Her eyes swept the street, peering through the carnage, looking for any stragglers. She
breathed a faint sigh of relief, seeing that they were finally alone. She shielded her face from
the wind, wiping away the sweat brought on by the hellfire. Her gaze fell on Townsville Hall.
With a gasp, she lunged forward, blasting away the molten stones sent flying by Buttercup’s
attack.
She didn’t have time to think, spying the Infernal Machine’s head whipping back, surely due
to a blow from her sister, heading for one of the few buildings still at least halfway intact.
Bubbles shot through the flaming winds. Along the way, she blasted away as much debris as
she could. She appeared at the other end, rocketing upward at a right angle to bat the
machine’s head aside.
“Ow!” Bubbles hissed, grabbing her mitt. Just a brief contact with its crimson shell was
enough to burn her. She wiped her eyes and choked back a whimper of pain.
A metallic clang shook the city. The tornado broke, wind and flames vanishing; an emerald
comet hit the ground.
She began to worry about her sister, only to find herself face to face with one of the Infernal
Machine’s heads. Its mouth opened slowly, flames rising in its throat.
From the Eastside of Townsville, a trio of troublemakers stood on the rooftop of the police
station, watching the pair of blue and green lights standing alone against the metal titan. For a
brief instant, they felt a sense of elation and awe when Buttercup consumed the Infernal
Machine in a flaming tornado that could be seen for miles. That feeling of euphoria was cut
off abruptly when the beast batted her aside and turned its attention on her sister.
“Dude, what the hell?!” Butch balked, turning to Brick, “What is Pops doing? What is that
thing?!”
The Rowdyruff leader shook his head, keeping his mouth shut. He knew if he opened it, he’d
say something he might regret.
They hadn’t been close with Mojo since they came back. On occasion, the scientist had
convinced them to join forces with him. Those plans always ended the same, Pops’ machine
broken and them beaten into the ground by the girls. This time was different though.
Butch was right. He didn’t know how he knew, but he knew that Butch was right. This wasn’t
like the old monkey. This…this thing wasn’t one of his.
“Where’s Blossom?” Boomer asked, interrupting Brick’s train of thought.

“Right!? Where the hell is Blossom!?” Butch shouted, his head jerking to the side. He
growled and punched himself in the cheek, pushing his head upright and holding it in place.
Blossom.
Blossom, Blossom, Blossom.
Brick clenched his fists. Everything always came back to that stupid, know-it-all goody-
goody. If she was so great, where was she? Why was she letting her sisters get their butts
kicked without doing anything? How could she just abandon them?
“Should we do something?”
“Of course we’re gonna do something!” Brick barked. The heat on his skin burned hotter and
hotter, until the darklight within him spilled out. Engulfed in devil’s fire, he rose into the air,
turning to face his brothers. “We’re gonna help the girls rip that piece of junk apart!”
Butch looked into his brother’s eyes. Something was different. A smirk replaced his look of
confusion. He closed his eyes and when he opened them again, he was also consumed by his
hate. He looked over at Boomer, already burning bright.
“We’re gonna run out,” Boomer pointed out.
The leader sneered and turned in the direction of the fight. The flames around him grew
darker still.
“Yeah, so what? You chicken?” He didn’t bother looking back. He knew their answer,
“C’mon, let’s save those goody-goody, kind-of-cool girls!”
The clouds split apart as a dark tri-colored rainbow shot into the chaos.
This was reckless. It was irresponsible. But, more than anything, it was stupid. Ms. Keane
gripped the wheel of her car tight and kept her eyes forward. Even if it was all of those
things, she couldn’t leave well enough alone. She had spent decades believing she lost her
last chance to make things right. Even if it was the worst possible timing, she couldn’t risk
losing this opportunity.
Glancing out her window, she could see the fight raging on in town. In all the years she’d
been dealing with the superheroic and supervillainous, she’d never seen anything like Mojo
Jojo’s latest creation. She knew, logically, that the best thing for her to do was to stay home to
be there when the girls returned.
The morning’s events had thrown logic out the window.
The Rite-On-Time Diner came into view. Pulling into a parking spot, her heart blasted in her
chest, pounding in her head. She stared at her hands. What if she was wrong? What if she
was getting her hopes up for no reason?
“No,” she said aloud, “It is her. I know it.”

She didn’t bother to grab her purse. There was no one else for miles. Everyone with sense
had evacuated to a crisis bunker. As she approached the door, she spotted her standing behind
the counter. When she pushed the door open, those green-eyes met hers. The door closed
behind her, but Ms. Keane remained where she stood, staring at a face she convinced herself
she’d never see again.
Ima’s expression was unreadable at first, but she quickly looked away.
“We’re closed. It’s not safe to be here,” she explained in a stiff tone.
Ms. Keane replied with a small smile, “I know…that’s how I knew you’d be here.”
Ima breathed a short laugh, lowering her head. The diner shook as an explosion hit the city.
When it passed, Ima looked up with a weary sigh.
“What gave me away?”
“Everything,” Ms. Keane laughed. Finally finding the strength to move, she approached the
counter. When Ima tensed, she paused where she stood, “Your eyes, your freckles…I think I
knew the moment I saw you.”
Ima pursed her lips, swallowing the lump in her throat. “You always could see right through
my best disguises…”
“Ima Goodlady,” Ms. Keane said, “No one else would have picked such an obviously fake
name.” She giggled, wiping a stray tear from her cheek, “No one else, but you…I remember
the first time you called yourself that. Dad found cigarettes in your room and when he asked
you if they were yours-”
“I said they weren’t mine because Ima Goodlady,” Ima laughed, covering her mouth when
she snorted. The two traded a glance and laughed again.
Her courage bolstered, Ms. Keane reached across the counter, resting her hand on Ima’s
shoulder. She waited until their eyes met to speak.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were back?” she asked. She tried to keep the hurt from her
voice, but after so long, it couldn’t help but pour out, “I…I thought you died…”
“I did,” Ima replied after a moment of hesitation, “When the police cruiser crashed, she died
and Ima Goodlady got away.”
The building shook, this time so hard that the pots and pans fell in the kitchen and the bells
above the door dropped to the ground.
“You could have told me…”
“I couldn’t,” Ima shook her head, “Not after…not after all the things I’ve done.” She turned
to Ms. Keane. Her defenses cracked, letting a tear slip down her cheek when she saw the hurt
in her bright blue eyes. She screwed her eyes shut and looked away, “That look…I…I
couldn’t stand to see you look at me like that again.”
Ima didn’t look up at the sound of her moving closer. She held herself tighter, trying to shrink
away. But when Cassandra embraced her, she couldn’t help but bury herself in the arms that
had always loved her when no one else did. And while she tried to fight it, she couldn’t hold
back the sobs that shook her heart and soul.
The Mountain had lost all pretense of geography or reason. For what felt like hours now, the
Professor had been running through woods, canopy so thick no sunlight could reach the
forest floor. Rain fell from the sky like biting tears, helping his pursuers track him from the
splash of his boots in the ever-rising tide. Over the din of roars and unearthly cries, he could
hear Hardly’s mocking laughter.
“Oh, Jimmy boy! You can run, but you can never hide, old buddy.” Dick was breathing down
his neck, his words whispered directly into his ear, “How many were there, hm? Sigma was
the first, but he wasn’t the last was he?”
The Professor shut his eyes and put his head down, sprinting with all of his strength. He
heard a sound and looked up, just in time to see the branch swinging toward him. It smacked
him in the face, knocking him off his feet and dropping him to the ground. Landing in a
puddle, freezing water poured into his throat and nose. He sputtered and coughed, struggling
to breathe.
Vision clearing, he saw something in the branches overhead. Its eyes, large as saucers, stared
unblinking at him. It slithered as it moved, the oval-shaped pads on its feet gripping the bark
of the tree with unseen claws. Scurrying down the trunk, it opened its mouth, black bile
leaking from its lips. It caused the tree to rot and wither where it fell.
“Remember this little guy? What was he? Subject #37? Oh, but what was his name, Jimmy?”
Dick laughed, leaning against the tree. The creature crawled up his arm and draped itself
around his shoulders. Its throat swelled and emitted a low, rumbling croak. Its hateful eyes
never looked away from the Professor.
“B…Basil,” he groaned, pushing himself into a sitting position and scooting away from the
pair. He moved until his back was against a tree, then used it to climb to his feet, “His…his
name was Basil.”
A branch broke nearby. The Professor turned to the sound. The path behind him had been
overtaken by shoulder-high grass. It spread, revealing an almost human face. It was doubled
over, walking on its knuckles. Its legs had been replaced by spider-like appendages that
skittered faster than should have been possible.
“Topa…” The Professor didn’t have time to marvel at the spider-ape. The wind picked up and
the rain began to come down in a sheet. In the shadows, he could see countless pairs of
burning red eyes, each filled with the same unflinching, unrelenting hatred as the last.
He had never forgotten those eyes. Even after the girls were born, they haunted his
nightmares. Subject #22, Subject #59, Subject #96…he remembered every single one of
them.
“For someone with such righteous intentions, you’ve left so many bodies in your wake,
haven’t you, Professor?” Dick walked through the army of hateful beasts. He lifted his right
arm, staring at a white metal glove. When he clutched his hand, orange sparks crackled
between his fingers. The beasts cried out and backed away from the phantom. Dick laughed,
aiming the palm of the glove at the Professor.
“How many more secrets are you keeping from those girls? Did you tell them why it was oh-
so-easy for you to build your little PowerProf suit?” Dick grabbed one of the beasts, a dog-
like creature with long, lanky limbs and pointed horn-like ears. It gave a horrific screech, its
face melting as orange light coursed through its body. In seconds it fell to the ground, little
more than a puddle of black.
“I…I couldn’t let them hurt anyone. I needed a…a way to put them out of their misery,” the
Professor explained, backing away again. He tripped over a fallen branch and found himself
with his back up against the mountain. The army of evil beasts and the phantom closed in on
him. There was nowhere left to run.
Dick laughed, grabbing another one of the beasts. It cried out like the last, melting into the
growing puddle of darkness at the phantom’s feet.
“A misery you inflicted upon them! You were so convinced you could change the world, it
didn’t matter how much suffering you caused. You had invested too much time and effort.
You had worked too hard. You deserved your fame. You deserved your fortune. You deserved
to be the hero, didn’t you, Professor?” Dick spat his title with palpable venom.
His face began to change, glasses melted into his face, turning black as night. His skin turned
green, covered in scales. His body was quickly expanding.
“Did they ever ask why you had a lab monkey? Did you ever tell them how sweet and kind
Jojo was when you first found him?” Dick’s voice changed, becoming more monster than
man, “Were you ever going to tell them about Subject #132?”
The wind began to howl, ripping branches off the trees and tearing the tall grass from the
ground. Now, the Professor could see every single one of them. Through the rain, he saw a
metal shape coming closer. It was a Robo Jojo. Though he couldn’t make out the pilot, he
could see his vicious eyes gleaming in the cockpit, and he could see the villain’s sharp-
toothed grin.
Aku clutched his chest. It was throbbing with a profound need. She was in the city. He didn’t
know where she was, but he knew that she was seeking him. Something was drawing them
together, something irresistible, more powerful than even he could fathom. It was that same
force that caused him to start walking. His head swiveled, his eyes scanning everything
without seeing. This city which he had walked every night since his resurrection was
somehow foreign to him in an instant. He was lost and she was his only guiding star.
The demon drew in a sudden breath, his vision becoming focused. He was standing in front
of a collection of squat, ugly gray buildings surrounded by a chain link fence with barbed
wire.
“Move it, freak!”
Aku ducked out of the way, watching a pack of school children go by. Though they seemed to
be the same age as the girls’ classmates, they were practically unrecognizable. There was no
charm, no kindness in them. They pulsed with fire and fury, just like the adults.
“What is this place?” Aku murmured, his eyes drifting to an unwelcoming, square sign on the
gate that read ‘Citiesville Central Elementary’. “This…this is where that man works.
Seamus?” Aku furrowed his brow, staring at the building, “Yes…and he said-” before Aku
could continue his train of thought, his vision blurred.
He was sitting at the back of a school bus. Looking to his left and right, he saw his sisters
sitting beside him. Bubbles seemed nervous and Buttercup looked irritated. He turned to look
out the window, watching the drab, gray buildings go flying by.
A brown-haired girl, older than the trio, leaned over the back of the seat in front of them.
When she spoke, her voice was grating and unpleasant.
“Hi! You must be the new kids.” She paused, looking at them.
Aku looked up at her. He couldn’t help but feel hopeful when she smiled at them.
“Oh my gosh! I just love your matching dresses!” she exclaimed.
Aku felt the weight that had been settled in his stomach fade. He smiled.
“Really?” He asked, touched by her kindness. That lightness vanished and he felt cracks
appearing on his chest.
“No!” She began to laugh. Soon, the entire bus was laughing at them.
Aku looked down at his feet, face burning with white-hot embarrassment. The cracks were
faint, but he could feel fire and lightning pulsing beneath. For one fleeting moment, he felt his
darkness stir.
The demon returned to the present. He was leaning against the fence, two giant holes torn in
the metal from where he’d grabbed. His chest hurt, his face stung with residual
embarrassment. She had lived here once before. This wretched city had bared its fangs at her
and she, in her infinite kindness, had refused to strike it down.
Swallowing a growl, Aku resumed his trek, the city blurring around him once again.
He had to find her.
He had to hold her.
He had to tell her that he loved the way her dress matched her sisters.
Bubbles crashed into the ground, forcing the air from her lungs. Grinding her teeth, she
pulled herself out of the ground, gingerly brushing off the concrete. Her body ached and
burns colored her arms. Looking around, she could barely recognize the city block. Fire
covered every surface that she could see. The street was melting and smoke blocked out the
sun. Every breath she took was shallow and stale, and it was getting harder to breathe by the
minute.
Hearing the Infernal Machine roar, she looked up, awestruck as Buttercup continued her
relentless assault against the unstoppable colossus. The two hadn’t a moment to speak since
the fight began, but even from a distance, Bubbles could see the desperation in her sister’s
attacks.
“Wh…” Bubbles gasped, trying to catch her breath, “Where are you, Blossom?”
“I will never ever let anyone take you away from me again, Bubbles.”
Bubbles’ eyes opened, her hand flying to her heart. She felt tears rolling down her cheeks.
No, she thought, wiping her eyes. She couldn’t cry and she couldn’t run away. She made a
promise, and this machine was standing in her way. It didn’t matter how big or how scary it
was.
Nothing would stop her from saving her sister.
Bubbles climbed to her feet and stared down the Infernal Machine. Two of its heads were
occupied with chasing Buttercup, but the middle head stared back at her. She clenched her
fists and drew in a deep breath. A chilly sensation spread through her as her skin began to
glow. She narrowed her eyes and charged at the machine.
It lurched forward, snapping its jaws where she had been moments before. With a battle cry,
she blasted it with her heat rays. She dodged again when it took another snap at her, then shot
forward, punching it in the chin with all of her strength. She was flung backward, but so was
the machine. In fact, its entire body was briefly lifted from the ground.
She couldn’t let that opening go. Despite the pain surging through her fist, Bubbles rocketed
to the ground. She let her heat rays fly at full power, drawing a searing line down the front of
the Infernal Machine. As it recovered, its tentacles slammed into the ground, sending a
powerful gale of air flying at her.
Bubbles resisted being blown away. She drew in a deep breath, sucking in every bit of the
thin air still left around her. Bracing herself by digging her feet into the ground, she continued
to breathe in, even when her lungs felt like they were going to explode. Her head began to
swim, but she forced herself to stay focused and drew in more air. She waited until the
machine turned its attention to her.
She waited until it lunged at her with all three heads.
And then she screamed.

The air in front of the little blue Powerpuff girl exploded in a silent detonation that atomized
everything immediately around her. The street collapsed; the flames went out. The three
heads of the Infernal Machine were sent flying. When the sound caught up to the force, it
slammed into the titan, throwing its entire frame into the air.
The Infernal Machine’s tentacles managed to grab at what was left of the street, dragging it
back to the ground. Its heads struggled against Bubbles’ unrelenting force, straining to move.
Whenever one began to inch forward, she dug deeper, screaming louder and harder, driving it
back again. Its crimson shell began to tremble. A single microscopic crack appeared on the
Infernal Machine’s central head.
Its eyes raged. Its chest heaved and the star burning within flared to match the intensity of the
Powerpuff’s attack. Digging its tentacles into the ground, it leaned forward, until the opening
in its chest was aimed right at her. The star burned brighter still, going from red, to orange, to
pink. The eyes on the central head flashed to match the light of the core.
A second silent detonation went off in Townsville. A beam of plasma ripped through
Bubbles’ scream. It ignited the air, setting off explosions in its wake. It was upon her before
she realized it had been fired.
All that Bubbles could see was the approaching wall of white-pink that would erase her. She
didn’t have time to cry for help. She didn’t have time to move. All she could do was hunker
down and pray that she could take it. Then, a shimmering jade light stepped into its path.
The hateful blaze raging around him roared with all its strength. His shield trembled. Cracks
appeared, but were quickly reinforced as he released more energy. Butch’s feet dug into the
ground. The beam intensified, driving him backward until he was nearly heel to toe with
Bubbles.
The devil’s fire around him flickered, growing weaker. With a snarl, his left eye clenched
until it was nearly shut. The wisps of darkness around him faded. He felt his shield beginning
to crack. Then he heard her voice.
“Butch!” she cried breathlessly.
His eye snapped open. Fresh strength flooded his tired body. The glow of his shield burst into
brilliant light. He began to growl as he took a heavy step forward. It quickly became a roar of
defiance.
The machine released the rest of its power in one final flash. An explosion of blinding light
shook the country as the unstoppable force collided with the Rowdyruff boy. When it faded, a
shell of unyielding jade light remained.
He couldn’t move. His shoulders trembled and his knees shook. Every breath he took was a
struggle. But he was still standing, even without the darklight.
He was invincible.
Buttercup’s ears were ringing and head pounding from the sound of Bubbles’ scream. Her
eyes were unfocused. Pain radiated throughout her entire body. She didn’t dare to look at her
fists, feeling the constant stream of blood on her arms. Her left leg ached with every step she
took. She heard some kind of explosion and was blown off her feet.
Struggling back to her feet, she refused to let her mind wander. She couldn’t think about how
they hadn’t so much as dented the machine. She couldn’t dwell on how lost she felt without
her sister. If she let herself think at all, she’d have to acknowledge how bad things were.
So she focused on breathing in. She took a step and focused on breathing out. Lifting her
head, she saw the Infernal Machine towering over her.
She breathed in and took a step closer.
Something had made it mad. It turned all three heads forward. Flames rose from the corners
of its mouths.
She breathed out and took another step.
One of the heads was changing, the crimson shell was pulling back all the way down its neck,
revealing countless holes. It roared and she could make out the heads of countless missiles
poking out.
She breathed in and took another step.
This time, she clenched her fist. She bent her knees and focused on flying. The machine
wasn’t looking at her. If she was fast enough, she could catch it off guard.
She breathed out and tensed her legs.
“Hey! What the hell are you doing?” A rough voice called out.
A pair of strong hands grabbed her shoulders and kept her from taking off. Buttercup
breathed in and turned to yell at whoever was getting in her way. She paused when she saw
uncharacteristic worry in familiar red eyes.
“Wh-what’re…what’re you doin here?” Buttercup hissed, pain shooting up her side and
driving her to her knees.
Brick knelt down beside her, helping her shift her weight away from her damaged leg.
“Dude, you look like crap,” He pointed out. When she threw a weak punch at him, he let it
hit his cheek, “This thing really that tough?”
All of the damage that she’d been ignoring came crashing into her. Biting back a cry,
Buttercup shook her head, drawing in shallow breaths.
“Just…can’t figure out…how to beat it…” she clenched her eyes shut, her chest heaving as
the thought she’d been struggling to suppress leapt out before she could catch it, “Blossom…
comes up with the plan…I just…punch things…”
“Well, where the hell is she?” Brick scowled. His expression softened, guilt tugging at his
heart when he saw the look on Buttercup’s face. “Sorry, my bad”
For a moment, Buttercup couldn’t resist an incredulous glance at the Rowdyruff leader.
“Wh-what are…you…”
Brick groaned and looked away, refusing to meet her gaze.
“We’re here to help you, dummy!” Brick laid a surprisingly gentle hand on Buttercup’s
shoulder when she tried to get up, “Find Bubbles and figure out how to take down Pops’
robot. We’ll hold ‘im off until you do.”
“Y-you g-guys don’t stand a chance…we can’t even h-hurt it…” Buttercup argued, trying to
sit up again. She fell back down with a cry of pain.
“Yeah, well, that never stopped us before, did it?” Brick rose to his feet and adjusted his hat.
Before taking off he looked at Buttercup, “Hey,” he paused immediately, stumbling over his
words, “Listen if the Pink P…if your sister is really that strong, then that means you are, too,
yeah?”
It was Buttercup’s turn to look away, “I can’t…I don't know how to go further.”
“But, it’s in there, right? Maybe it’s like your turnin? You can do it, you’re just scared or
somethin’, I dunno.” Brick took a deep breath, “I gotta go, Boomer and me’ll hold it off as
long as we can. Butch is with Bubbles, find them and come up with something.”
Brick paused to throw one more look back at Buttercup. His face twisted, as if he wanted to
say something more. He decided against it and flew off to join his brother.
Buttercup collapsed. The last of her stamina had run out. As she laid there, staring up at the
sky, she thought about what he said. Her strength…
“I’m not afraid. I know we’ll win because I’ve got you with me, Buttercup.”
Her broken hand moved to her heart. Her eyes began to shine.
The Infernal Machine’s right head suddenly changed, plates along the crimson shell pulled
back to reveal a hundred missile silos. The head looked like it was laughing as it leaned
toward Butch and Bubbles. The boy had stopped its laser, but he was spent. He couldn’t save
them this time. With a roar, the missiles launched from its neck.
A navy streak appeared and a bat of sparking yellow energy ripped through one of the
missiles. The Rowdyruff boy was gone before it exploded, swerving through the air and
clubbing another missile. Boomer bounced from one to another, twisting and spinning in a
dazzling display of aerial grace and precision. With every swing of his bat, a thunderclap
echoed, followed by an explosion.
Boomer hit the ground and rocketed straight up, taking out another missile with a circular
swing. At the apex of his jump, he locked eyes with the Infernal Machine. The head on the
far left was still looking past him at Butch and Bubbles, but he had the full attention of the
others.
Tossing his bat into the air, he caught it and pointed it straight at the machine, “Bring it.”
The Infernal Machine roared, the center head lunging for him. Boomer ducked out of the
way, clubbing the side of it. It jerked from the impact, but he was sent spiraling backward
even further. He caught himself just in time to see it fire another salvo of missiles. Unlike the
others, these were less focused. Several were still heading for his brother, but at least half of
the remainder were heading for him. The rest were flying indiscriminately.
“Boomer, watch it!”
The blue Rowdyruff looked down to see the gaping maw of the left head reaching for him.
He gripped his bat, trying to time his swing. In the end, he didn’t have to. A ruby meteor
crashed into its side, sending it flying further than his own swing had. Boomer threw a
fingerless thumbs up to his brother.
“Thanks!”
“Get those rockets! I’ll deal with these two!” To prove his point, Brick’s body melted into a
raging dark fire. He threw a punch at the head about to snap down on him, knocking it toward
the ground, “I’m counting’ on you, Boomer!”
Boomer nodded. He let the hatred in his heart consume him in blistering darklight. He
opened his now focused eyes. In a flash, he was gone.
While Brick brawled with the other heads, the sky was lit up like the Fourth of July.
Resembling the stroke of a brush across a dirty canvas, it was covered in jagged blue lines
punctuated by explosions at every point. Boomer grit his teeth when a third salvo of missiles
joined those he had yet to reach. It seemed like no matter how fast he went, he just couldn’t
keep up.
“Grrr, you idiot! You stupid, stupid, stupid idiot! Go faster! What’s wrong with you? GO!”
Boomer arched his back and took a swing at his own face. The devil’s fire around him burst
into a dazzling cobalt fury. Unleashing every last ounce of power he had, his body seemed to
shimmer in place for a moment. Then, a hundred pointed star of blue appeared in the air,
flashing just before every one of the missiles exploded.
The Infernal Machine was already firing another salvo, but these were quickly destroyed
before they could leave their silos. For the first time, the Infernal Machine roared as if in
pain, the left head blown away from the kickback of its own failed attack. Though it was
stunned, it bought them only a few precious seconds before it righted itself and unleashed
another wave.
The navy blur tried to repeat his successful assault, but as he closed in on his newest target,
the power around him fizzled and burnt out. His bat turned to sparks in his mitts. The missile
he’d meant to destroy was now inches from his chest. He tried to curl up, but the explosion
sent him flying out of the air and crashing to the ground.
Pushing himself up on shaking arms, Boomer wobbled to and fro. His ears were ringing, but
he could faintly hear someone shouting. Looking up, his unfocused eyes widened. Something
so big he couldn’t see where it began or ended, was heading straight for him. There was no
time to act, so he braced for impact. The Infernal Machine’s tentacle batted him aside like a
fly, burying him beneath a pile of burning cinder.
He held onto consciousness, crawling out of the smoldering rubble. He could still hear
shouting, though his brain refused to process any of it.
“Stupid…stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!” Boomer slammed his head into the ground until his
forehead began to bleed. His ears were still useless, but his eyes could finally focus. He saw
Brick fighting off all three of the Infernal Machine’s heads. Despite his brother’s strength,
even Boomer could tell that he was fighting a losing battle.
“Look out!”
Brick’s voice finally pierced through the haze in Boomer’s head. Like a light switch being
flipped, he could see and hear everything. He saw Brick held off by two of the Infernal
Machine’s heads breathing fire down on him. And he could see the right head opening its
mouth wide. A missile bigger than all of the others was loaded in its throat. Following its line
of sight, he could see it was aimed right for the other two.
Butch was on his knees, holding up a bloody hand as he struggled to keep his shield in place.
Bubbles was kneeling beside him, trying to help him up. The smaller missiles were keeping
them pinned in place.
Boomer turned back just in time to see the giant missile fire from the Infernal Machine’s
mouth, the takeoff sending its head flying backward. He turned back, eyes wide and blood
running cold as his brother’s hand dropped and his shield fell.
He saw Bubbles look up, spotting the missile. To his surprise, she rose to her feet and moved
in front of Butch, shielding his body with hers. Bubbles could barely stand, but she refused to
move, even when the Rowdyruff boy tried to move her.
Everything fell silent inside the blue Rowdyruff boy’s head. He pushed his bruised hands into
the ground, shoving aside the tons of burning rubble like it was nothing. Climbing to his feet,
he couldn’t hear anything but static. There was no way he could make it. He could barely
move. He wasn’t strong enough or fast enough. He was just a stupid, useless piece of-
“Can I ask you a favor?”
Boomer held his breath. He could almost see her smiling at him.
“It would really make me happy if you could be friends, too…”

Light flashed in his eyes. Power surged out from his chest, filling his arms and legs with
strength unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He felt his feet move and the world stood still.
When it came back into focus, he was skidding into place in front of her.
Energy crackled between his palms, but this time it was the same shade of blue as the waves
of power now radiating from his body. He clutched his bat tight and slid his foot back. He
squared his shoulders and planted his feet. It wouldn’t be enough to hit it away, not this close.
The only way he could save her would be to completely and utterly demolish it. Twisting his
hips, Boomer put his back into the greatest swing of his life.
Brick held his arms in front of his face, holding back the worst of the twin dragons’ flames.
His skin was scarlet, pouring his fury into the darklight to keep it going just a little bit longer.
He hated to admit it, but Buttercup was right. Everything he threw at the Infernal Machine
bounced off like nothing. No matter how angry he got or how much hate he latched onto, it
wasn’t enough.
He ground his teeth and clenched his eyes shut. He could see her face in his mind. It pissed
him off so much. He thought about her cocky smile, her smarmy voice. He thought about all
the praise constantly heaped on her. He thought about how pathetic he felt when Aku told
him that she’d never taken him seriously. Everything about her pissed him off. He hated her
more with every passing day.
But, it still wasn’t enough. Not even she was enough. And that only made him angrier.
The heat in his skin rose again, reigniting the dwindling embers of Aku’s power. All he could
do was keep it going to buy them time. He’d never felt so powerless, so completely worthless
before. He tried to hold onto that feeling, hoping it would buy him a few more seconds.
The dragons’ fire was starting to break through his defenses. It was starting to burn his skin
and singe his hair. Screwing his eyes shut, he gave one last desperate push. Then, it was gone.
He felt the last embers of the devil’s fire fade. The flames immediately drove him to his
knees.
A thunderous explosion caught his attention. He forced his eyes open and turned toward it.
Despite all the heat he was giving off, a chill ran through him.
Boomer, looking like nothing Brick had ever seen before, was standing between Bubbles and
a bomb the size of a building. He watched the tow-headed boy draw back his bat.
“Wh-what are you d-doing, you idiot?!” Brick hissed.
Without a hint of hesitation, Boomer swung at the bomb. His bat began sparking when it
made contact and, as he followed through with the swing, it shattered, unleashing a torrent of
cobalt power that completely consumed the bomb’s devastating blast. The wave of power
didn’t stop with the bomb, it continued on, consuming the Infernal Machine’s left head. All
of the other missiles it had fired exploded in unison. An unearthly metal roar nearly drowned
out the boom.
For several seconds, Brick couldn’t see anything, blinded by the light. His hearing returned
before his vision. It was Bubbles.
“Boomer? Boomer! Wake up! Boomer, please, be okay…”
Brick clenched his eyes shut then opened them again. Although his vision was obscured by
the flames, he could see it clearly. Boomer had pulled it off. Bubbles and Butch were safe.
The Rowdyruff leader grit his teeth, choking on the lump in his throat.
Boomer was on the ground. His shirt had been reduced to strips of scrap and ash. He was
covered in burns and bruises, some leaking blood, but most of them seared shut from the
explosion.
He wasn’t moving.
Brick felt a different kind of heat in his face. He felt the steam rising from the corners of his
eyes. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t see anything except his brother’s body. For the first time
since returning from the grave, his head was deathly silent.
The Infernal Machine roared, turning its third head toward Brick. It added its flames to the
deluge pouring down on the Rowdyruff leader. The oxygen in the air was gone in an instant.
None of that mattered. Brick couldn’t feel and he couldn’t breathe.
In his head and in his chest, there was nothing. Suffocating, all-consuming nothing.
It was there, drowning in nothing, that his brother’s body burst into red light. It tore through
the nothing, pouring through him and flooding him with feeling. This wasn’t the crimson hate
in which he was born, and it wasn’t the scarlet hate of Aku that had abandoned him. It was a
different shade of red he’d never known before. It was blinding and it was unstoppable.
The fury within him erupted. Exploding from his ruby-red skin, it sent the heads of the
Infernal Machine reeling. Throwing his head back, hot tears streamed down his cheeks before
turning to steam. Brick’s voice cracked, screaming with all of his anger.
“NOT MY BABY BROTHER!” The last bit of restraint he had left snapped, igniting an
inferno from the depths of his soul.
The Infernal Machine hadn’t yet regained its balance before a crushing blow collided with its
damaged right head. The entire machine rocked into the air, its tentacles slamming into the
pavement. A second blow hit the top of the center head like a blazing meteor, sending it face
first into the ground. It was followed by a vicious stomp, then a devastating uppercut to the
left head.
When the tentacles reached for the ground to mount a counterattack, the furious Rowdyruff
boy pierced through one of the four legs, tearing it off. Getting a tight grip on the flailing
appendage, Brick smashed it first against the center head, then the left, and finally the right.
He screamed and brought what was left of the busted tentacle down on the body, striking
until his weapon was gone.
The center head shot up from beneath the ground, chomping at the Rowdyruff boy. It just
barely missed, its teeth still tearing into Brick’s arm in retaliation. Rather than slow him, the
fresh blood now boiling on his arm only further enraged him. His eyes lit up like stars; his
heat rays struck the head like a solar flare as it came in for another bite.
Brick whipped around to face a salvo of missiles fired from the Infernal Machine. He crossed
his arms over his chest, then thrust them out, unleashing his own explosion. The missiles
were vaporized, but the cloud of dust they kicked up bought the machine enough time to
recover. It scrambled away from the Rowdyruff’s next attack. Rather than attempting another
bite, six silos opened along the left head’s brow.
Expecting another barrage of missiles, Brick prepared another explosion. His raging eyes
went wide when the machine instead launched a flurry of duranium spears at him. These
effortlessly pierced his defense, tearing into his skin and nearly knocking him from the air.
He managed to catch himself inches from the ground, nursing several bloody gashes along
his arms and legs that refused to heal. The machine attempted another burst of spears, but this
time he was ready. Weaving through the attack, Brick fired another explosive heat ray at the
machine. It collided with the left head, causing the titan lurch to the side.
The machine gave him no time to follow up on his successful strike, launching another salvo
of missiles at him, along with a spray of spears. There was no chance for him to retaliate. He
avoided the deadly spears, but was forced to tank hits from the missiles. He was too
disoriented to notice the center head striking. It chomped its teeth down on him, then once
more for good measure before throwing him to the ground.
Not even a second passed before the ground exploded. Snarling to catch his breath, his
shoulders sagged and his knees shook. Despite the pain, when the Infernal Machine turned its
gaze on him, Brick glared back unblinking. His inferno burned with fresh fury.
The Infernal Machine snorted smoke from its nostrils. The three heads opened their mouths
as wide as they could. The left and right faced to the center, while the main head aimed
directly at Brick. The core of the machine lit up, burning red, then orange, then white-pink.
The air around the machine crackled and snapped as it continued to gather power.
Brick spat out the blood in his mouth. He rose up into the air until he was directly across
from his father’s abomination. Spreading his arms, he pushed his inferno even brighter and
hotter. Slamming his arms together, he focused all of his power into his mitts.
The same white-pink energy began to charge up in the machine’s mouths. With a roar, it fired
a beam from each mouth. The beams collided a few feet in front of the machine, exploding
outward in a swirl of unstoppable pastel pink light.
Digging deep, Brick let loose all of his hate and anger. His inferno erupted from his hands
like a tidal wave of pure rage. When the two forces met, the collision shook the entire
country.
The Rite-on-Time Diner shook as another earthquake hit the city. The lobby was a wreck.
The lights had fallen, littering the floor with glass and plastic, and the shelves were upended,
adding straws, stirring sticks, creamer and sugar to the mess.
Ima and Ms. Keane were behind the front counter. The cash register and what remained of
the tip jar lay near Ima, a near miss when the chaos had intensified.
“You really should get out of here, Cassie.” Ima repeated for the third time that minute. She
had one arm around Ms. Keane’s shoulders, while the other was held tightly in her sister’s
hand.
“I’m not leaving you. Not again, Abby.” Ms. Keane replied for the fourth time that minute.
She laced her fingers through Ima’s, clutching her hand with all her strength. She feared that
if she let go for even a moment, she might slip away and disappear from her life again.
Ima gripped Ms. Keane’s shoulder when the building shook. Though they were on the
opposite side of the town from City Hall, every so often the diner was lit up by a flash from
the fight. She couldn’t help worrying about Blossom. Her new little friend had been in rough
shape the day before, and she hadn’t stopped by to see her the night before that. She didn’t
want to pry, but she had caught part of the fight between the sisters in the parking lot.
She wanted to ask Ms. Keane, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words.
Ms. Keane peered up at her estranged sister. She desperately wanted something, anything to
break the silence. A thought crossed her mind, bringing a smile to her face.
“How did Blossom figure out who you were? The other girls seemed surprised to see you,
but clearly she knew that you were going to be here.”
Ima laughed and smiled fondly.
“We ran into each other a few nights ago. She was having trouble sleeping and, well, I knew
from experience that it isn’t good for a little girl to be wandering the city at night. Even
someone as strong as her.” she explained, choosing her words carefully.
Ms. Keane frowned, “She’s been wandering around town at night? She never told me…I
knew she was having trouble sleeping, but…”
“She didn’t want to worry you.” Ima quickly pointed out, “I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone,
gave her a snack and someone to talk to. I…I think she realized who I was that first night.”
“What day was that?”
Ima glanced at the fallen calendar at the other end of the room.
“Wednesday.”
“It was Friday. That’s when she figured it out.”
“Oh?” Ima asked, “How do you know?”

Ms. Keane squeezed her hand, a sad, wistful smile on her face, “That was the night I told her
about you. You must have told her about me on Wednesday, and when she heard my side…”
“She figured it out immediately,” Ima chuckled, “She really is so much like you.” She looked
at the teacher in confusion when she began giggling, “What? What’s so funny?”
“It’s just,” Ms. Keane giggled again. She peered up at Ima. She had missed that look of
intense curiosity. It was exactly like Blossom, “I told her that she reminded me of you.”
The conversation tapered off when a much stronger shockwave hit the building. One of the
front windows shattered. Ima held Ms. Keane protectively. Her hand rose to her head, where
her hair writhed restlessly beneath her wig.
Her heart seized in her chest when her sister asked the question she’d been dreading.
“Abby, I don’t mean to be pushy, but…what did you mean by all the things you’ve done?”
“Cassie, I…”
Ima never got a chance to decide if she was going to tell the truth or a lie. The diner was lit
up by a blinding light. Just before the blast hit the restaurant, she tore off her wig and threw
herself on top of her sister.
When Ms. Keane came to, the first thing she noticed was someone’s body pressing against
hers. The second thing she noticed was the ache throbbing through her entire body. The last
thing she noticed was an agonizing pain in her leg. She tried to sit up, but someone pushed
her back down.
“Shh, Cassie, don’t move. Not yet.”
Rolling her head back, she strained her eyes to see her sister. Everything was dark, save for a
few stray beams of light slipping through cracks in the stone curtain that had fallen on them.
The light, the crash. The building collapsed. Abby saved her, but how?
Ms. Keane forced her eyes shut, trying to will away her throbbing headache. When she
opened them again, she could see. She almost wished she hadn’t.
Her sister was on her hands and knees, shielding her with her body. Her hair…it wasn’t white
anymore. It was black as night, moving on its own, and holding back the thick slabs of
concrete and metal that threatened to crush them.
“Y-you’re…” Ms. Keane gasped out. Her chest hurt, but not just from the explosion.
Sedusa flinched when the rubble shifted. Gritting her teeth, she reached out with another
strand, pushing it back into place.
“I never…told you…what my power was…” She hissed through her teeth. She shifted her
weight a few inches toward the front of the store, then tilted her head, “Move that way, but
slow. Your leg is broken.”
“Abby, I…” Ms. Keane cried out, blindly groping at her leg.
“Cassie, you have to move. I know you’re confused, but I’m going to get you out of here,
okay? Please…trust me.” Sedusa begged, her voice breaking by the end.
Sucking in gasps of air, Ms. Keane nodded and dug her fingers into the ground. With a
whimper, she managed to move until she reached Sedusa’s arm.
“Good…good, just a little bit more.”
Ms. Keane watched her sister’s mane move with expert precision, shifting through the rubble,
lifting another patch with the same effort she would have put into lifting one of her student’s
desks. Once a path was cleared, Sedusa moved to the side again and motioned for her to
follow.
“You’ve been Sedusa this whole time?” Ms. Keane asked. She knew it wasn’t the time, but
she needed something, anything to distract her from the pain and dread. She was bleeding,
but she couldn’t tell how much. And, she couldn’t help but worry about her sister, too. “Are
you…okay?”
“I’m fine…I’m fine…” Sedusa concentrated on clearing out the next path for them. It seemed
like she was going to ignore her first question, but then, “I started going by Sedusa when I
was getting started in Citiesville.”
“When did,” Ms. Keane hissed and moved again, “When did you come home?”
Sedusa froze, staring at the floor for several seconds. Cursing under her breath, she tried to
work faster.
“Three years ago. Just after the girls were born.”
“Why?” Ms. Keane held her breath, now hearing the floor creak beneath them.
“I thought I was the best. And the best way to prove it was to beat the best heroes.” Sedusa
moved again. Her head drooped and her hair wavered. Drawing in a deep breath, she pushed
herself back up and got a better hold on the ceiling.
As Ms. Keane moved again, she felt a tremor run through the floor. She and Sedusa locked
eyes. They were running out of time. The teacher kept quiet as her sister moved a bit further.
“Abby…you can always come home. I don’t…care what you’ve done.” Ms. Keane clenched
her teeth, dragging herself to the next spot. The floor gave a loud, exhausted groan.
“Cass…” Sedusa’s breathing picked up. Her arms trembled.
“Abby?”
“You can’t let her end up like me.”
“Abby-”
With a guttural growl, Sedusa began to push the roof back further. Locks of hair tugged at the
rubble, drilling through the stone where the thin strips of light came through. With a cry of
exertion, she tore through the rubble. She turned back to Ms. Keane, gazing into her eyes one
last time.
“Promise me, Cass…promise me that you’ll save Blossom.”
“Abby, we can-” The floor shook. In one fluid motion, Sedusa’s hair wrapped around her and
hurled her through the hole. She flew through the air, landing several feet from the front of
the diner. The landing nearly knocked her unconscious, but in spite of the pain, she tried to
crawl back to the rubble. She looked up just in time to watch as the floor gave out, plugging
the wreckage into the basement.
“Abby…” Tears fell like rivers down her cheeks as she cried out.
When the dust settled, all that remained was deafening silence and the broken pieces of what
little hope she’d dared to feel.
“ABIGAIL!”
The Mountain’s storm had become a hurricane. The once endless forest had been torn up at
the root by the howling black wind. The rain fell like a sheet, so thick that the Professor
couldn’t see his own hand at arm’s length. Yet, no matter how dark the sky grew or how
heavy the rain fell, he could still see their eyes.
They were dwarfed by the phantom of Dick Hardly. He had transformed into the Chemical
X-addled form in which he’d died. He towered over all the others, his massive claws ripping
up the hard stone, hovering over the Professor, waiting for the chance to crush him beneath
the heel of his hand. When he spoke, his voice shook the mountain. It shook the Professor to
his core.
“You are a coward and a fraud, Utonium!” Dick snarled, leaning in until the Professor
could feel his breath on his face, “You knew. You knew from the very beginning what
would happen. And still, you persisted.”
“That’s…that’s not true, I…I tried to…”
“Tried to what? Hide it after realizing what you’d done?” Dick threw his head back in
booming laughter, “Is that why, after swearing you would leave it alone, you hung the
beaker right over your so-called Perfect Little Girl formula?”
The darkness around the phantom swelled and shifted. A hole opened above him, sucking the
sky into an infinite depth blacker than any darkness. As the Professor gazed into the abyss, he
felt himself falling. Further, faster, deeper.
“Aku’s return was never truly a threat,” Dick growled, his voice chasing the Professor
into the black. “You know the truth, don’t you, Utonium?”
The Professor started to shake his head, started to protest, but as he fell into the abyss, he
found he couldn’t. Though it broke his heart and caused his spirit to cry out in defiance, it
was true. Sigma, Mojo Jojo, even Aku. They were mere drops in the ocean that was his
greatest sin.
Standing in the darkest depth of the abyss, at the bottom of Pandora’s Beaker, he found them.
The crime he could never take back. An evil greater than original sin. Their strange, doll-like
bodies filled with the greatest power in the universe. Their big, bright eyes, filled with
emotion that could save either the world or end it. Goddesses forged from sugar, spice, and
everything nice.
“My girls…” the Professor whispered, reaching out to them. The image cracked and twisted.
Their sweet faces changed, their eyes contorting with the same hate shared by the subjects
who came before. All around them, the world trembled.
“You weren’t content to make heroes. That wasn’t enough for the great Professor
Utonium. You found evil in its purest form and with it you made something much
worse.” Hardly appeared in the dark behind the girls. Suddenly, they were standing in
Townsville. One by one, the girls lifted a hand into the air. As the hate in their eyes reached
its zenith, they let their hands fall.
The Professor watched the destruction caused by a simple flick of their wrists: a wave of
destruction that washed over the planet and drowned it beneath an endless flood. He saw the
sun turn cold and the moon vanish from the night. He saw the tides stop and forests turn to
deserts. Finally, he saw the Earth itself split in two.
“You seek the sacred blade? Who are you to claim the right? There is no cure for the
disease you’ve unleashed! There is no undoing the damage your arrogance will cause.”
Hardly had grown to the size of a mountain, holding the vengeful goddesses in his hands. The
scene around them shifted, showing countless other possibilities. No matter the time, no
matter the circumstance, the ending was always the same.
“Who is a man to a hero? Who is a hero to a god? Who is a god to Aku? And who is
Aku to the Powerpuff Girls?” The phantom declared. Behind him, the abyss continued to
draw them in further. Into countless different futures, each ended not by Aku or some
supervillain, but by the unstoppable wrath of the Powerpuff Girls.
The monster leaned closer, his hand held above the Professor. There was nowhere he could
run, no way he could escape if it were to fall on him.
“Who are you?” Hardly demanded. Behind him the eyes of the subjects appeared. Before
him, the wrathful images of the three little girls he’d brought into the world glared at him.
Beneath their feet was an endless mountain of dead bodies; an infinite number of worlds that
would die.
When he took a step forward, the phantom snarled. The Professor continued until he reached
them. Kneeling down, he gazed into their eyes. Filled with hatred. Filled with despair. Filled
with all the pain and suffering the world had to give. Somehow, someday, that pain would
become too much to bear and the entire universe would face its end.
But that wasn’t all there was in their eyes.
There was joy, courage, and hope. There was wonder and kindness. And beneath the ocean of
hatred, there was love: brilliant, warm, and unyielding.
The Professor touched Blossom’s cheek. The hatred in her eyes flickered. He rose to his feet,
resting a hand on Bubbles’ head and the other on Buttercup’s. The three looked up at him, the
pain in their eyes fading. He smiled, and after a moment of hesitation, they smiled back.
“You’re wrong,” the Professor replied calmly, “You think you know everything about them.
You think they’re destined to destroy. You think so very little of them.” He turned to face
Hardly. Now he stood between the girls and the phantom, “You’re the one afraid of the
truth.”
Hardly rose up to his full height. The abyss shook when he took a step forward.
“And what is the truth?”
“You’re afraid because they’re unlike you, me, or anyone or anything else the world has ever
seen. You’re afraid because when you look into their eyes, what you really see is endless
possibilities. I see the same every single time. And that is why I will always have faith in
them.”
“Are you willing to gamble the fate of the universe—the fate of every universe—on
something so fragile as faith?”
“My faith is not fragile. It is invincible.” The Professor turned away from Hardly, leading the
girls away from the monster. Behind him, the phantom roared, shaking the abyss.
“Who are you to claim your faith to be so strong?”
The Professor didn’t bother looking back. He held the girls closer and smiled.
“I’m their father.”
The Professor climbed the last few steps, marveling at the bright blue sky stretched out
before him. The summit was not much. A simple cliff overlooking the valley. There was a
single cherry blossom tree, its branches draped over a small, tranquil pool of water.
The fatigue of the last several days hit him all at once and the Professor fell to his knees in
front of the pool. He bowed his head. Though the spirit had been ruthless as it showed him
the darkest parts of his soul, he felt grateful for the peace he now felt.
The Professor took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He returned his attention to the water.
His canteen had long since run out and he found himself suddenly overwhelmed by an
intense thirst. Cupping his hands, he dipped them into the pool. The water was chilly, but
pleasantly so. It settled easily in the palms of his hands. And, bringing it to his lips, he drank
without spilling a drop.
His hands fell back in his lap. He peered out over the summit with a look of wonder on his
face, as if he was seeing the world for the first time. As he took it in, a smile settled on his
lips.
Buttercup forced herself into a sitting position. A shiver ran through her when she heard
Brick scream. She’d seen the Rowdyruff boy mad, but never like this. She wanted to tease
him, but couldn’t find it in her. If it had been Bubbles or Blossom…her fists throbbed and a
surge of white-hot fury chased away the chill from earlier.
For her sisters, she would tear down the moon and stars. That was the reason she was
climbing to her feet now, even though her leg couldn’t hold her weight. That was the reason
she wiped the blood from her eyes and shook it off her mitts.
Brick was right, damn him. She was scared of what might happen. It had been so long and
she had seen how hard it was for Blossom. If she dug in and found the strength she hid away,
there would be no going back. Every day from then on would be…what was it Blossom
said?
Every step an earthquake; every breath a hurricane.
Buttercup snorted, spitting the blood from her mouth. What was so scary about that? Who
cared if she couldn’t go back? She’d been so lost in her head, she had forgotten the one thing
she knew for sure: She was a Powerpuff Girl, and she wasn’t just any Powerpuff girl. She
was Buttercup Goddamn Utonium. She was the toughest fighter.
She wasn’t afraid of the monsters under the bed. They were afraid of her.
She opened her eyes, irises like emerald plasma. She breathed in and took a step forward. Her
leg snapped back into place. The bruises on her fists faded as her skin began to glow. With a
slight bend of her knees, she watched the world slow down.
Emerald sparks sprayed the street. Several seconds later, the pavement where she’d once
been standing exploded.
Bubbles watched Brick’s fury unfold: damaging the Infernal Machine, but constantly beaten
back by the endless array of weapons it kept hidden. She thought she would feel scared about
their hopeless situation. But even when she looked over at the other two Rowdyruff boys—
Butch was barely able to sit up; Boomer was struggling to keep breathing—it wasn’t fear she
felt. It wasn’t sorrow, either.
No, what worried her the most was that instead of any of the feelings she knew how to
process, she felt numb and empty. She wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. She
wanted to scream, but she couldn’t find her voice.
They didn’t have to do this. That was the thought dominating her thoughts. The boys didn’t
have any reason to risk their lives for them. This was the Powerpuff Girls’ fight, and it was
against the boy’s creator. If anything, if they really were the Rowdyruff Boys, they should be
helping Mojo.
They were born to destroy. They were working with Aku to tear them apart. That’s what
Blossom said, right?
And yet, when the girls faced their darkest hour, they flew headfirst into the destruction…
Butch put himself between her and certain death. And, while it had nearly killed him, when
the machine turned on her again, he refused to back down, even with no strength left to stand.
Boomer intercepted the Infernal Machine’s bomb, even though he could barely stand to be
near her. Just like his brother, it wasn’t a dilemma, he acted without thinking. When push
came to shove, he was willing to die for her.
And now, Brick was all that stood between the city and total annihilation. The sky was bathed
in red from his own shining light and the Infernal Machine’s Starburst Ray. If he gave an
inch, if he faltered for even a moment, he was going to die. And he made that choice so
effortlessly.
Those rotten boys…those monsters…those monsters saved them.
Bubbles closed her eyes, tears finally trickling down her cheeks. Rising to her feet, she held
her arm out motioning for Butch to stay back. She could feel again, emotion overflowing in
her heart. But it wasn’t fear or sorrow, that wasn’t who her friends needed. They needed
Bubbles to be their joy and laughter in the face of despair.
When she opened her eyes, her irises were overflowing like sapphire streams. She smiled and
turned her head skyward. Her burns faded as her skin began to glow.
“Don’t worry,” She called back over her shoulder. She giggled when Butch stared in awe at
her, “Everything’s gonna be alright now.”
Gasping for air, arms hanging uselessly at his sides, Brick’s fury had finally fizzled out. He
managed to stop the Infernal Machine’s attack, but it had taken everything he had left and
then some. The metal colossus blurred as it moved toward him. He tried to tense his muscles;
tried to summon one last burst of strength.
Instead, the world turned upside down as he fell. The ground rushed toward his face and he
didn’t even have the strength left to close his eyes. All out of options, he could only hope that
someone was coming to save the day.
The Rowdyruff leader grunted, landing in a strong, but soft embrace. Turning to face his
savior, he couldn’t help but stare. Her hair was moving in its own wind; her eyes were
confident and sure, totally free of the doubt he’d last seen in them. When she smirked at him,
his lips twitched as he tried to return the favor.
“T-t-took you…l-long enough…” he groaned.

“Yeah,” Buttercup laughed, “Guess I owe you one, maybe I’ll give you one free shot at me at
recess tomorrow.”
Brick laughed even though it hurt everywhere to do so.
“W-word…g-give ‘em…give ‘em hell, B-Buttercup.” Before Brick could finish that thought,
the two were on the ground. She gently laid him down next to Boomer. Brick turned to the
side, relieved to see the idiot’s tired eyes looking back at him.
Buttercup walked to her sister’s side, hands on her hips, lightning crackling in the air around
her. She glanced over at the blonde and flashed her a crooked smile.
“So…we doin’ this for real now?” Buttercup lifted one foot and appeared on Bubbles’ right.
Placing it back on the ground, she was on her sister’s left once more.
Bubbles nodded, her pigtails bouncing as she jumped in place. She couldn’t remember the
last time she’d felt this light.
“Let’s get Jojo out of that thing.”
Buttercup turned fully toward the Infernal Machine.
“You noticed too, huh? Haven’t heard a word from Ol’ Monkey Man since we started.”
“Yeah,” Bubbles agreed, “I think he needs us.”
“You got a plan?”
“I was hoping you had one.”
“Heh,” Buttercup’s body shimmered, flashing slightly as she appeared on both sides of
Bubbles at the same time, “I got an idea. Let’s pound the stuffing out of it.”
Bubbles giggled.
“I had a feeling that was gonna be the plan.” She nodded once final time, lowering herself
into a battle stance, “Alright, let’s roll.”
Buttercup turned without losing speed, easily slipping past a strike from the Infernal
Machine. Though the world around her was a blur of shapes and colors, she could read them
clear as day. When the machine launched its spears at her, she lifted her foot, and brought it
down on the first spear. Before it could even register her stomp, she bounced on the tip of
each spear, sending them harmlessly to the ground.
The second her feet hit the ground, she moved to the side, racing forward along the outer
edge of the machine’s fire breath. She pulled her fist back and struck. In the instant her fist hit
the metal, she reversed direction, cutting off the head that had been chasing Bubbles. She
spun in the air, planting both feet firmly on its side. With a simple push, she knocked it away
and sent herself flying at the last head as it launched a salvo of missiles.
With just a slight spin, she corrected her angle so that she hit the nearest rocket instead. An
intricate spider web of green spread between the rockets, taking them out in an instant.
Buttercup landed on the ground, hands on her hips. The glow around her was like a shield of
emerald lightning. She took a fraction of a second to scan the battlefield, searching for her
sister. She froze before she could really take in how she was doing. Just over Bubbles’
shoulder, she could see herself.
Their eyes met.
“Crap,” she muttered at the same time as the other Buttercup. Tearing her eyes away, she
vanished in a flash, returning to the fray.
Bubbles jumped over a missile, twirled to avoid a spear, and then did a backflip over one of
the Infernal Machine’s heads as it took a bite at her. She landed on the attacker’s back, a
giddy grin on her face. Even though she hadn’t done any lasting damage, she couldn’t stop
smiling.
When another one of the machine’s heads arrived to chase her off, she turned toward it and
lifted her mitt. As it prepared to bring its jaws down, she snapped her mitt. A concussive blast
exploded from hand, batting the head away as if she’d punched it.
She ducked under a streak of green and slid beneath a barrage of duranium spears, catching
the last one in her hand. She swirled it like a baton, batting away another wave of spears.
The middle head reared back after being struck by Buttercup again. It shook off the blow and
turned to face Bubbles. With a metal screech, it opened its mouth and fired its Starburst Ray
at her.
“Ooh, someone’s grumpy,” Bubbles giggled, tossing the spear past Buttercup and into the left
head chasing her. Turning toward the oncoming laser, Bubbles drew her leg back. The glow
along her skin burst into a splash of blue light. With a little ‘Ha!’ she did another backflip,
kicking the beam straight into the sky. She had enough time to pump her arm and shout
‘Yes!’ before landing.
The middle head, furious that she made a joke of its attack, came flying toward her, its jaw
ripping through the decimated street. Bubbles leaped over it, her eyes aglow with red light.
She fired her heat rays at the machine’s head, plowing it into the battered, crumbling
pavement below. Blasting off toward the titan’s body, Bubbles swirled around its neck,
searing the entire length with a continuous stream of starfire from her eyes.
Reaching the chassis, she launched herself straight into the air. She spun until her feet were in
the air, then, as if she was using the sky as a springboard, shot back at the Infernal Machine’s
body. She brought her legs in and curled into a ball. The short-ranged Cosmic Cannon Ball
hit with devastating force and sent Bubbles bouncing away harmlessly.
Flying through the air, arms and legs spread, Bubbles couldn’t stop laughing. Even if the fate
of the world was at stake, it had been so long since she’d had so much fun.
Opening her eyes, her smile vanished. Her hands flew to her mouth. Fear like she’d never felt
before gripped her heart and refused to let go.
“BUTTERCUP!”
Things had been going too well.
Since looking into her future—or past, she still had no idea how to tell—self’s eyes,
Buttercup had been unable to focus. Whenever she sped up, her own shocked expression
appeared in her mind and she lost her nerve. That slight hesitation was all it took for her to
screw up.
Buttercup came out of a turn only to find herself chest to tip with one of the Infernal
Machine’s duranium spears. It was both incredible and terrible, feeling it tear her skin like it
was made of paper. Her eyes flickered down as the first spray of blood erupted. Her lips
opened, a scream of agony getting stuck in her throat. The spear felt impossibly heavy as it
slid through her rib cage and pierced her lung.
Blood was quickly filling her throat. The weight was growing with every passing
nanosecond. The last breath she’d taken was quickly exhausted, forced out by what would
surely be her dying scream.
The spear was inching closer and closer to her heart. Her eyelids began to fall shut for the
final time.
“BUTTERCUP!”
Buttercup forced her eyes open and forced a fresh breath of air into her working lung. What
was she thinking? This wasn’t the end; it couldn’t be the end. She had to be there for
Bubbles, she had to stop Aku, and more than anything, she had to find Blossom.
Clenching her jaw, she looked down at the spear. She tried to move her arms to grab it, to rip
it free. But, even with her strength, she knew she would be too late.
Too late…no. She wasn’t too late.
She just needed to go faster. She needed to go back.
Buttercup drew in a long, deep breath. Her eyes, which had begun to dull, lit up, power
pouring out in jagged, dangerous surges. Faster, faster, even faster then before. She sucked air
through her teeth and she flung herself backward, crashing through the event horizon.
For a single, infinite second, she stared in awe at the frozen world around her. She could see
every spec of dust, every tear on her sister’s face, every drop of her own blood spraying from
her chest, and even the tiny, almost invisible crack in the middle of the Infernal Machine’s
main head. Though it was just a second, in that moment she could see everything. Realization
hit her harder than anything the metal monster had thrown at her.
This was the world that Blossom saw.
Then, it was gone, replaced by something new, something only she could see. Everything
around her was moving in reverse. The tears rolled up Bubbles’ cheeks, the blood returned to
her chest as the spear slid out. She could feel the rip in her lung being undone, her skin
sewing itself back together. The spear was getting further and further away.
Lifting her eyes, Buttercup saw herself, in the past and the future, everywhere around her.
She could see every point forward, and every point backward. She finally understood what
Blossom meant by visual calculus. She knew exactly how she needed to move.
Like a record suddenly playing after being rewound, time resumed its normal flow. This time,
Buttercup was ready.
She twisted just in time to avoid the spear that had killed her. Then, eyes wide and sparking,
she began to move.
There was no time for the Infernal Machine to react. Quicker than a fleeting thought, it was
under siege from every angle, all at once. An infinite number of emerald shooting stars
smashing an infinite number of fists against its crimson shell. The metal titan was caught in
an inescapable web. Each attack hit harder and faster than the last, but no matter how much
she accelerated, her fists alone weren’t enough.
She knew she couldn’t do it alone.
“BUBBLES!” Buttercup’s voice echoed from every direction.
The blue Powerpuff girl wiped the tears away from her face. She had a hundred questions,
but she knew this wasn’t the time.
“BUTTERCUP!”
“DO YOU TRUST ME?”
What a silly question, Bubbles thought, thrusting out her hand.
“OF COURSE I DO!” The second she said those words, Buttercup appeared in front of her.
Though her sister was moving faster than time itself, she carefully looped her arm through
hers. Bubbles giggled when Buttercup gave her arm a tug and flashed her a grin. Bubbles
tugged back and nodded.
The Infernal Machine roared, freed from Buttercup’s unstoppable assault. It focused its eyes
on the last two standing in its way. What it found instead was a perfect swirl of green and
blue. The metal monster screeched, firing duranium spears and a constant barrage of missiles
at the duo.
The swirl spun faster, first forming a tornado, then a drill. It shot forward, through the missile
salvo. They exploded harmlessly around it, unable to slow its ascent. The right head
screeched and lunged forward. In a dazzling display of light, the drill went into its mouth and
pierced through the other side.
“HYPER!” Buttercup’s voice echoed across the horizon.
The left head turned and fired its spears at the duo. The drill suddenly turned at a perfect
angle, deflecting the spears and crashing through the second head.
“SONIC!” Bubbles’ voice rose above the machine’s fury.
Before it hit the ground, the drill changed direction again, shooting to the front of the titan. It
made one last impossible turn, shooting straight upward, aimed right between the Infernal
Machine’s eyes.
“SCREWDRIVER!” The sisters cried in unison, drowning out the chaos.
With one last brilliant flash, the drill collided with the crack on the machine’s head. It burst
through the back, no longer a drill, but two sisters holding their estranged brother between
them. The Infernal Machine, its mouth agape and cracked eyes staring up at the sky, gave one
last groan, before erupting in a silent explosion. When the light cleared, not even a scrap
remained of the sinister machine.
Lying in a tangle of limbs several hundred feet away, Bubbles and Buttercup rolled onto their
backs.
“Oh g-geez,” Buttercup groaned.
Bubbles’ hands were creeping to her mouth, “Wh-what?”
Buttercup’s mouth clamped shut. She scrambled to her hands and knees, scurrying a few feet
away before throwing up. After several heaves, she fell back on her back and wiped her
mouth.
“That…attack…sucks.”
Bubbles snorted before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.
Buttercup chuckled and rolled her eyes. She gave Mojo a light tap on his shoulder.
“You with us, Jojo?” she asked.
Mojo Jojo lay face down in the dirt, resting his head on his arms. He bit his lip, fighting back
tears. For the first time in weeks, his thoughts were his own. His head was so…quiet.
“Thank you…P-powerpuff Girls…thank you for saving me.”

Blossom breathed a sigh of relief, one that quickly turned to a coughing fit. She doubled over,
knees shaking as she fought to keep standing. When it passed, she looked up at him, not
bothering to wipe away the blood streaming from her lips.
“Finally…I’ve been looking for you for so long…” Seeing him, she couldn’t stop herself
from smiling. Her body trembled, the storm beneath her skin desperate to escape. But, being
this close to him at long last…it was a rush that could compete with the pressure pounding in
her skull. “You’ve been looking for me, too, haven’t you?”
Aku slid his hands into his pockets and nodded. The street where their paths finally crossed
was blissfully empty. Had any of the city’s foolish people dared to interrupt them, he wasn’t
sure who, but he knew that one of them would have killed them.
“I have…but why have you come seeking me out, child?” He asked, stroking his beard.
He paused, confused when she began to laugh. His face felt hot and his chest warm. Hearing
her voice in person was so much more overwhelming than he remembered.
“I could ask you the same, couldn’t I?” Blossom laughed again, smothering another cough
behind her mitt. She lowered her voice, “Those were your memories, weren’t they? Did…did
you see any of mine?”
Aku cleared his throat, unsure if he should answer honestly. The look on her face though…it
was nothing like the way she looked at him when they last met. It was hopeful and inviting.
Even if he wanted to lie, he realized he couldn’t.
“I have…” He meant to leave it at that, but his lips moved without his permission, “I like
your dress and the way it matches your sisters.” He quickly turned away, covering his
face. His cheeks were searing hot and he felt immeasurably foolish.
Blossom hadn’t known what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t that memory. She looked down,
her cheeks pink and her hands folded in front of her.
“R-really?”
Aku watched her. The sensation in his chest felt as if he were drowning, but it was warm and
pleasant, “I do…I mean yes, that is correct.”
“Thank you…”
Silence. Neither of them were the type to struggle with words. Yet, he couldn’t think of what
to say next and she seemed unsure if she even should say more. When another coughing fit
drove her to her knees, he broke the stalemate.
“Answer me, why have you come seeking me, child? You are,” Aku sighed and shook his
head, “You are no fool. You have successfully deciphered every step of my plan.
Knowing what it is I desire, why would you approach me?”
Blossom remained on her knees, arms wrapped around her middle. Though her voice shook
from fatigue when she spoke, there was no mistaking her certainty.
“I know…but, I also think that…maybe that’s not what you really want. Or at least, maybe it
doesn’t have to be.” she explained. She finally looked into his eyes again.
“What do you mean? That is ridiculous, child. The darkness with which you struggle,
that burning hatred. That is Aku!”
“I know…I know it is. That’s the part of you that’s drawing me to you. But,” Blossom
climbed to her feet. She forced herself to stand up straight, to look him in the eye and make
him take her seriously, “What about the part of me that’s drawing you to me?”
“The part…” Aku trailed off, words failing him. What did she mean? Surely there was no-
“I’m seeing the world through your eyes, but I know that you’re seeing the world through
mine as well.” Blossom continued, “I’ve felt your kindness, your happiness. I know that hate
is what you, what we are, but I know that those other things are just as real. You had to have
felt something, too…right?”
He had felt something in those moments where they slipped through one another’s
consciousness. Normally, it was when she was giving into her hate, when she was most
closely aligned with him. But…fleeting as they had been, there were a smattering of incidents
where he had been aligned with her.
“You were there last night, weren’t you? When I was with Bubbles.”
“How did? Mmm…I was.” Aku was starting to realize that there was no point in lying. He
had thought himself so superior, so in control of what was happening. And yet, in just a few
words, she had proved him wrong. Even if he did lie, she would know immediately.
“And what about the Rowdyruff Boys? You gave them your power to make them worse, but
instead you made them better! They’re…” Blossom lowered her head. She hated to admit it,
especially aloud, but, “They’re good boys now.”
“That was an unintended consequence, yes.” Aku stroked his beard and furrowed his brow.
He had no intention of fixing or improving the Rowdyruff children. His only desire had been
to use them as a conduit to channel more of his power into Blossom. But, something had
gone wrong. Just as she had said, the longer they held his power, the better they had become,
“You seek to change Aku?”
“No, I mean…not really. That’s not why I’m here.”
“Then say it, girl. Why have you come seeking Aku?”
“Because I’m dying.”
The demon’s stomach fell. He tugged too hard, ripping part of his beard out. He knew that
she was sick, but, surely it was just because of the transformation. Surely it couldn’t be that…
Blossom bit her lip and nodded, “I don’t know what happened to me, but something is tearing
my body apart. It’s…it’s more than just your influence.” She gestured to the blood on her
face, “I don’t know what to do, but if I do nothing…I don’t think I have much time left.”
Aku couldn’t speak. Whenever he tried to form words in his mind, all he could hear was her
declaration repeating. It filled him with the same dread he felt when exposed to her father’s
chemical. The same primal terror that gripped him when he remembered the Samurai’s blade.
“You…wish for Aku to save you?”
After a moment of hesitation, she nodded.
“There is clearly a connection between us. It’s not just the memories or the consciousness, or
even our power. It was my blood that brought you back to life. And I think that…I think it’s
because when my sisters and I were born, I must have inherited most of you.”
Aku nodded. “I had similar suspicions. From the first moment we met. There was
this…”
“Pull. The same pull that brought us both here tonight.” Blossom finished his thought. Before
he could respond, she took to the air and closed the distance between them. When she landed,
she stumbled, her legs giving out. Aku dropped to his knees, catching her in his hands.
The feeling of her skin against his was electric. He found himself staring into her lovely pink
eyes. He reached out to caress her cheek, only to find that she was doing the same to him.
She leaned into his touch, and he into hers.
“What would you have me do?” Aku asked.
“I want…I want you to give me the same power you gave the Rowdyruff Boys…maybe it
can fix what’s wrong with me.”
Aku shook his head, “Child, the power of Aku is nothing but hatred. It will twist you,
drag you into its depths, and consume you until it is all you are.”
“I…I don’t think that’s true.” When he seemed confused, Blossom continued, “There’s the
Rowdyruff Boys, of course. But, I think it’s more than that. I think that…just like there are
two Blossoms in me-”
“There are…two Akus in me?” he finished for her.
“I think so. I mean, it would make sense, wouldn’t it? That’s why we can share each other’s
thoughts and experiences. There is a part of me that came from you and longs to be with you.
And…I think, maybe there’s a part of you that came from me…and wants to be with me?”
“Perhaps…” Aku began to lose himself, dwelling on what it might mean if she was correct.
Shaking his head, he replied in a low voice, “But, child, you understand what you stand to
lose, should the other you prove victorious?”
Blossom closed her eyes. She could see herself, her power eclipsing the entire universe. Her
sickly green face, raging flames of hatred in her eyes, and darkness devouring her body. It
was the same face that stared back at her from the mirror.
“I know…I know…” she whispered, nodding her head. Her chest seized and she fell into his
arms, coughing until his shirt was stained with blood, “But…” She looked up at him and
touched his face again. Her cheeks turned pink and she smiled, “I’m willing to try, as long as
you’re with me, Aku.”
Aku released the breath he’d been holding. He took her hand in his and pressed it into his
cheek. His form shifted and changed, returning to his true demon appearance. He wanted to
hold her for just a little longer, before he did something he could never take back.
Finally, he offered her his hand, engulfed in the wickedest of his darklight.
She lifted her mitt, but paused and looked him in the eye.
“Only if you ask me by my name.”
“I, too, shall try, as long as you are with me, Blossom.”
She was close enough to taste his breath, like smoldering embers. In his eyes, she could see
hate and fury, but also so much more. He was wounded and uncertain about what lay ahead,
but so was she. Settling into his arms, she nodded. Slipping her hand into his, she refused to
look away from his eyes, smiling as the devil’s fire consumed her.
Eye of the Storm
Chapter Summary
In the aftermath of the Infernal Machine's rampage, Townsville's heroes try to pick up
the pieces and find a clue that might lead them to their missing member. Within the
depths of the Pit of Hate, Blossom awakens to a new dawn, a new day, and a new life.
After a day that felt like an eternity, the sun was beginning its weary descent, casting the
horizon in a dreamlike mix of blues, purples, and oranges. From where he sat with his back
against a toppled city bus, Mojo Jojo stared in awe at the beauty overhead. He couldn’t
remember the last time he’d watched the sun set, nor could he remember the last time he felt
at peace. Even the sirens and horns of the approaching police cars and fire trucks seemed a
world away.
He stirred with a little jump when a tiny body settled into the space beside him. Mojo peered
down to find concerned baby blue eyes looking back at him.
“Are you okay now, Jojo?” Bubbles asked, resting a mitt on his shoulder. “That wasn’t like
you, what happened?”
Turning away from her was harder than he had hoped. But, with no small amount of effort, he
managed to return his gaze to the sky.
“I am…” He began, though quickly tapered off. His attention drifted to the others joining
them. Buttercup held all three of his sons, one over each shoulder and the third on her back.
He watched her set them down along the bus before plopping down on his other side.
Mojo’s shoulders sank and a tiny, breathless laugh passed his lips.
“Incredible…”
“Hm? You say somethin?” Buttercup asked.
“It is just,” Mojo laughed again, “You girls are simply incredible. The city is burning, your
allies lie broken, your enemy is beaten, but you,” Mojo looked at each of them, then let his
head fall back, his eyes getting lost in the sky again, “You are not just victorious, you are
unfazed, unbroken…utterly unbeatable.”
“Tch,” Brick scoffed, “I softened that piece of junk up for ya.” He jerked away, holding his
side when Buttercup elbowed him, “Gah! C-cut it out, that hurts!”
Bubbles giggled, “He’s right, we couldn’t have won with your help, boys. So…thank you!”
The three little boys were blinded by Bubbles’ bright, beaming smile. Brick was the first to
break away, muttering a brief ‘Yeah, you better thank us.’ Next was Boomer, whose ‘You’re
welcome’ was quickly muffled by a yawn. Butch was the last still staring. It wasn’t until his
eye twitched that he finally snapped out of his trance.
“No sweat, you’re our friends,” he blurted out.
“That right?” Buttercup asked, “Is that what we are now?” She elbowed Brick again,
laughing when he doubled over groaning.
“Yeah, sure, whatever!” Brick rubbed his side and sat back. His cheeks were dusted with heat
as he refused to acknowledge the Powerpuff girl’s grin, “Yeah, so what? You’re…kinda,
sorta, almost cool for girls.”
Screeching tires and a shrill siren stopped the conversation in its tracks. A group of four
officers in riot gear nervously approached the group. They relaxed when Bubbles waved and
flashed them a smile.
“Hello, officers!”
One of the officers raised his hand in greeting. He quickly lowered it again when his gun
rattled in his grip.
“Um, hi there, girls. Is everything alright?” The rest of the officers lowered their weapons
when both girls nodded.
“Relax, guys, we got it under control.”
“They’re here for me,” Mojo pointed out. With a sigh, he shuffled to his feet. To the surprise
of everyone present, he held his hands out without a fight.
Bubbles flew to Mojo’s side, hands over her mouth as the handcuffs were clamped on his
wrists.
“Wait! Jojo, you never told us what happened,” she lowered her voice, “Are you going to be
okay?”
Mojo nodded, eyes still fixed on the sky. He drew a long, deep breath in, releasing it slowly
before he spoke.
“I need to rest, but, yes, I believe I am okay.” He turned when Buttercup flew up to his other
side, “In the morning, once we have all had time to recover, I would request that you come to
speak with me at the prison.”
“Yeah, sure thing.” Buttercup agreed, crossing her arms and watching the officers lead him
away. She turned to her sister, who was wearing a look of confusion that must have matched
hers.
“He didn’t repeat himself at all,” Bubbles pointed out.

Buttercup nodded, “Yeah…that was weird. Something’s definitely up with Mojo.”
“I think it might have something to do with Blossom,” Bubbles whispered.
She was with you yesterday. I know it, I made sure of it
Buttercup’s throat grew tighter until no words could escape. She could only nod in response.
“Keep talking to me, Cassandra, I’m almost there.” Ms. Bellum’s voice was calm, but her
grip on her cell phone was shaking. The streets of Townsville blurred past as she raced to the
edge of town. She had expected fallout, but she wasn’t prepared for the call she received
before the fight had even concluded.
“Cassandra?”
“I’m here, Sara,” Ms. Keane replied after several tense moments.
Ms. Bellum sighed, her tires screeching as she slid to a stop in front of what remained of the
Rite-on-Time Diner. Not bothering to shut her door, she hurried out into the parking lot.
“Cassandra!” Slipping her phone into her pocket, she hurried over to her friend’s side.
Despite the destruction, the parking lot was empty save for a smattering of debris and a single
car that had been flung onto its side. A thin trail of blood stretched from the edge of the
diner’s wreckage to pool next to the crumpled car. Ms. Keane was face down on the ground,
her cracked phone held loosely in her fingers.
Ms. Bellum carefully rolled her over, resting a hand on her shoulder when she cried out in
pain and tried to resist.
“God, Cassandra…”
The smaller woman was in rough shape, clothes and skin tarred from dirt, mud and smoke.
She clutched her left pant leg, blood seeping through her fingers, pooling beneath her from
the tip of a piece of metal protruding from her calf.
Tugging off her jacket, Ms. Bellum did what she could to staunch the bleeding.
“Cassandra, keep talking to me.” She insisted, lightly patting her cheek. She waited until Ms.
Keane opened her eyes before turning her attention back to her leg.
“I’m awake, just…so tired…” Ms. Keane nearly leapt out of her skin, crying out when Ms.
Bellum put pressure on her leg. Collapsing back on the ground, she bit her lip and let herself
cry as the physical pain met the anguish she felt in her heart. Sucking in a shaking breath, she
said, “I found her…Sara, I found her…”
Ms. Bellum finished tying off the makeshift tourniquet, then moved to Ms. Keane’s side,
looping on one arm beneath her legs and the other around her shoulders, “Who?” She asked,
lifting Ms. Keane from the ground. While carrying her to the car, she nearly tripped after
hearing the answer.
“My sister.”
“Abigail?” Ms. Bellum focused her attention forward, smothering her curiosity. She waited
until Ms. Keane was safely settled into the back of her car before trusting herself to speak
again. “Abigail was here?” She finally asked, settling into the driver’s seat.
“She’s been here…ever since they were born…” Ms. Keane’s voice, already strained from
tears and pain, was quickly succumbing to exhaustion.
“The girls? What do you mean?” Ms. Bellum kept her eyes focused on the road as her car
raced through the damaged streets.
Ms. Keane nodded, her eyelids getting heavier, “She…Sedusa…Sedusa is Abby…”
“She is?” Ms. Bellum blinked and suddenly she was back in her bedroom on a certain June
night years ago.
It was the cool breeze from the open window that stirred her from an otherwise peaceful
sleep. The first thing she realized was that her wrists and ankles were bound. The second was
that she wasn’t alone in her room.
“Shh, don’t struggle now, sweetie. You’ll just hurt yourself,” A sinister, sultry voice teased.
The bed shifted as someone slipped into place behind her. Trying to stay calm, she couldn’t
help but squirm as a pair of slender fingers lightly traced her leg, creeping across her hip until
finally resting on her side. The darkness above her stirred like a snake, slithering across her
cheek. With surprising gentleness, but irresistible firmness, it turned her head until she was
looking into the glittering emerald eyes of her captor.
“See? I’m not going to hurt you, Sara.” The intruder slid to her feet with serpentine grace,
moving into the moonlight. Her lips curled into a smile as she knelt beside the bed. The
slithering darkness—a long lock of her writhing raven hair—playfully tapped her captive’s
nose, “I just need to borrow a few things: your clothes, your home, and…well, your
identity.”
She laughed, pressing her fingers against Sara’s lips when she opened her mouth to protest.
“Shh, remember what I said? Don’t struggle.” Her fingers lingered on the redhead’s lips, her
own curling into a smile that was sinister, yet oddly familiar. “I’d really hate to have to hurt
you.”
Sedusa rose to her feet, walking away with a sultry sway of her hips. She paused at the closet,
taking down the outfit that Sara had set out for the morning. She held it up to her body and
did a twirl.
She seemed like a different person when she said, “I always did love your style.”
“S-Sara?”
“Hm?” Ms. Bellum blinked and she was back in the present, taking a turn and heading
straight for Townsville General Hospital. “Sorry, I just…remembered something.” Glancing
in the rearview mirror, she forced her best smile.
“You’re going to be okay, Cassandra. Just hang on a little bit longer.”
As the stars began to appear over the city of Townsville, signaling an end to the day from
hell, a pair of officers occupied the back corner of an otherwise deserted bar. The jukebox
was playing some new, angry song on a cracked record, skipping every few seconds.
Overhead, the lights flickered, one dangling low enough that both men had to make an effort
to avoid it when they arrived. The floors were sticky, every step making an unpleasant
squelch, and there was a sour scent strong enough to taste wafting from the faded leather of
every ratty seat.
As they downed another drink and ordered two more, neither noticed any of those things.
Perez was slouched forward, head in one hand and an empty glass in the other. He hadn’t
looked up in what seemed like hours, lost so deep in his thoughts that he’d almost forgotten
he had company. When Shomes cleared his throat, Perez sat up with a start. Across from him,
he saw the young man had taken off his beanie, digging his hand into his hair.
“Maybe we’re wrong,” Shomes said, his words slurred and tone defeated. He looked up from
the spot he’d been digging on the table with his fingernail. His eyes were bloodshot with
heavy dark bags hanging from them, “Right? I mean, I haven’t worked a real case in years
and…and…I mean we have to be wrong, right? This is insane, this is just fucking insane.”
Perez pushed aside his empty glass and took a long drink from one of the replacements. He
made it halfway through before he had to stop to catch his breath and finally answer the
question.
“I’m not even a detective,” Perez sighed, “Spent the last year behind a desk, was playing
second fiddle to the worst cop on the force for five years before that.” He drained the rest of
his drink, “We’re out of our depth here, there’s just…” His voice cracked. Dropping his head
into his hands, he struggled to breathe through the pain gripping his chest.
The jukebox clicked and tried to move to a new song. The same broken record fell back into
place and it began again. Outside, the Eastside was starting to come alive. Music could be
heard across the street and through the muggy, yellow-tinted windows flashing neon lights
advertised cheap beer and even cheaper thrills.
“You guys want another round?” The waitress asked in a disinterested tone, punctuated by
the obnoxious snap of her gum.
“Keep it coming.” Perez murmured, “Right, Harry?”

Shomes nodded, “Yeah…yeah, thanks.”
The waitress rolled her eyes and walked away, taking some of their empty glasses. Nothing
more was said until she returned. With new drinks in their hands, the duo silently
acknowledged what they’d been avoiding all day.
There wasn’t enough shitty beer in the world to make them forget.
The flames of the Pit of Hate felt warm that night. The air, normally hot and heavy with the
filthy thoughts of the city of evil above, was instead light and refreshing as the Master of
Masters gazed at the wonder that had followed him back to his lair. Across from his throne,
the frozen flames had risen, stretched, and folded themselves into a comfy little cot for her to
rest on. He sat on his throne watching the way her hair moved like a calm sea of fire as she
slept.
The infusion of darklight had been, as he anticipated, overwhelming for her. That, combined
with the pain of the unknown malady that had befallen her left her exhausted. Hours had
passed, but still she slept. Were it not for the gentle rise and fall of her side, he’d have
worried his darkness proved too much for her.
Aku chuckled at the thought, rolling his beard between his fingers. Such a foolish thought, he
mused. It was every bit her power as it was his own.
I think maybe there’s a part of you that came from me…and wants to be with me.
His smile slowly faded. Lacing his fingers and sinking into his throne, Aku pondered her
claim. It was true that there was a part of him in her, they had both seen and felt it. It
manifested in her wrath, lashing out and smiting the world as had he. But, what of the
reverse?
She claimed to have felt his joy and kindness, but what were those things but mere means to
an end? He had humored the pair at City Hall to hear their gossip and eat their food. He had
graciously rewarded the pizza smith for setting a delicious meal before him, but nothing
more. These moments of weakness were transactional, a means to an end.
“Hmph…” Aku murmured, “I am Aku, girl…nothing more.”
The Pit of Hate felt hotter now. Burning as it had in years long past. Thirsting for the blood
and suffering of mankind. He could once again smell the wretched city above. With every
breath, it nourished him and his power swelled.
So what if there were three humans who had earned his favor? Men were meant to serve
gods. No pizza or microwave burrito could sate his hatred. No matter how delicious the food
or how pleasant the company, it could not change the outcome. This world—not just the
Earth, but all of creation—was his enemy.
It was they who struck the first blow.

It was they who named him Evil.
The pit’s flames were raging, pulsing with the fire in his own chest. He had risen up to his
full height, a towering shadow that would devour all light and banish this vile world to the
silence of death. His eyes raged like dying suns, fueled by hatred that had burned before the
birth of the first star. Hatred that would never—could never—be quenched.
A gentle sigh robbed him of his fury. Aku turned to where the girl called Blossom lay
sleeping. His breath caught in his throat. She had rolled over and now he could see her face
and the peaceful smile she wore as she slept.
It was a small thing. Something as fragile as a flower in a storm. And yet, it remained even
though she bore the same hate as he. Though she had taken on the darkest light, she still
shone so bright. As he watched her sleep and traced her smile with his eyes, he found himself
powerless to its charm. And, as he smiled in return, for a moment—just a moment—he
wanted to believe in the Aku that she saw in him.
When Blossom finally stirred, the first thing she noticed was the warmth around her. She sat
up, yawning and rubbing her eyes, taking in her surroundings. Though the frozen flames
were fascinating, and the heat in the air was oddly familiar, she found herself uninterested in
anything else when she saw him. She couldn’t help a tired giggle when he sat up suddenly.
“Good morning, Aku,” Blossom sat back on her hands, dangling her feet off the makeshift
bed and looking up into the void above them, “Is it morning?”
“It is,” Aku replied, rising from his throne and approaching her. There was an
uncharacteristic nervousness to the way he moved, “Did you sleep well?”
Blossom nodded, rubbing her eyes again. She froze, staring at her mitt. Her skin was now
black as night, seemingly the same sleek, inky texture as the demon. She looked down at her
feet to see that they, too, had changed. Her hands flew to her face, touching her cheeks.
“Ah, yes. Allow me to assist,” He gestured toward the flames. A section began to change,
twisting and shifting until it had become a mirror tall enough for Aku himself.
Blossom glanced up at him, then back at the mirror. Taking a shaky breath, she climbed to
her feet. She gasped, looking down at her feet. Taking a few steps to test the waters, her
hands flew to her face and she beamed at Aku.
“It doesn’t hurt anymore!” With a squeal, she stomped her feet and spun around, arms spread
wide, “I feel amazing! It worked!”
Aku chuckled. He held his chest, unwilling to interrupt her gleeful dance, “So it would
appear. Though, ahem,” he gestured toward the mirror again, “Perhaps you should…”
“Oh, right!” Blossom laughed, her cheeks painted bright pink, “I’m sorry, it’s just…” She
dug her foot into the floor sheepishly, “I…I’d almost forgotten what it was like to not hurt all
the time.”
Blossom turned to face the mirror. She moved closer, careful to stay out of its view until she
reached the wall. Pausing to glance at Aku for encouragement, she felt butterflies when he
nodded and motioned for her to take a look. With a final resolute nod, she took a step in front.
The first thing she noticed was that her face hadn’t changed much. The outside edge of her
cheeks, along with her neck had become the same slick, inky flesh as her limbs, but that was
all. Her peachy cheeks were painted with a light pink blush, but she recognized the person
looking back at her. With a sigh, she brushed her hair out of her eyes. They were still rose-
colored, though noticeably darker than she remembered.
Her hands moved from her face down to smooth out her dress. It was the same one she’d
worn the day before, lightly stained with blood and dirt. She ran her hand along her arm, then
down her leg. She was surprised that her skin still felt the same. Despite the defensive nature
of Aku’s skin, there was no loss of feeling. No, if anything, she felt even more than before.
Tugging on her collar, she could see that her entire body had changed, becoming like Aku.
“Are you disappointed by the transformation?”
Blossom looked her reflection in the eye. There was no sneering voice in her mind, no heat in
her chest nor lightning under her skin. She smiled and shook her head, turning to look up at
Aku.
“No, I’m not.” Her confidence faltered and her voice grew soft, “Are you?”
Aku laughed and shook his head, “Of course not, ch-ahem,” he smiled sheepishly, resting
his hand on her head, “Of course not, Blossom.”
Blossom breathed a big sigh of relief, her shoulders sagging. It was quickly followed by a
loud yawn. The excitement and strength she’d felt moments before suddenly vanished,
leaving her curled up on the floor. She fought to keep her heavy eyelids open.
“I’m sorry….” She yawned again and buried her face in her arms, “I don’t know why I’m so
tired…” Blossom gasped, her eyes opening when she felt him lift her into his arms. While the
pit was hot, his embrace was warm. She snuggled deeper into his arms with a content sigh.
“You’ve no need to apologize. You were unwell and the power Aku has granted you was
immense beyond compare.”
Blossom replied with a sleepy moan when he laid her back down in her bed, “Just a little
longer…I promise…” She forced one eye open, watching Aku return to his throne. “Did you
sleep at all, Aku?”
The demon settled into his throne, “I have no need for sleep.”
Blossom let her head drop back into the cushion.
“That sounds…so lonely…” She trailed off with a tiny snore.
Morning had come much too soon for Ms. Keane.

While Townsville’s world-class medical care had gotten her patched up, in a cast, and back
home late the night before, she hadn’t slept well even with the painkillers the doctor had
prescribed her. Every time she closed her eyes, she found herself beneath the crumbling diner
again. This time, though, she was alone. She could hear Abby calling out for her, but no
matter how deep she dug, she could never get any closer. When she wasn’t having a
nightmare, she was trying to cry herself back to sleep without drawing the girls’ attention.
Eventually, she’d decided she just wasn’t going to sleep. Ms. Bellum had—bless her soul—
already arranged for a substitute teacher until she was ready to return, but that was honestly
the least of her worries. No, just as bad, if not worse than the loss of her sister again was
Blossom’s disappearance.
She had hoped against reason that Blossom would be waiting for them when they got home.
Then she had hoped she would hear her trying to sneak in throughout the night. Now, as the
morning sun’s rays crept in through the study window, she had given up the last of her hope.
Ms. Keane quickly wiped away her tears, forcing her best smile when the door creaked open.
“Good morning, girls,” she called in a weary voice.
“Good morning, Ms. Keane,” the pair chorused, flying into the room. Buttercup was carrying
a tray with a plate of food, while Bubbles was holding a cup of coffee and a pill bottle.
“We made you breakfast and brought your medicine!” Bubbles chirped, waiting until the tray
was securely resting on Ms. Keane’s lap before setting down the coffee and bottle.
Ms. Keane bit her lip and dabbed the corners of her eyes with the napkin from the tray.
“Thank you girls, that was very kind of you.” She meant to wait until the girls left to take her
medicine, but pain and fatigue got the best of her. Popping open the bottle, she downed two
pills with a nervous test of her coffee. Peeking up, she saw the two sitting next to her on the
rolled out couch. For the first time she could recall, she couldn’t quite read their expressions.
“Is your coffee okay?” Bubbles asked.
“Yes, it’s very good. Thank you, Bubbles.” Ms. Keane took another sip. It had far too much
milk and sugar, but she was thankful for anything that kept her from thinking about Abigail,
“Did you girls eat already?”
The two nodded.
“Yeah, a little bit…” Buttercup rested her chin on her hands, “We weren’t that hungry
though…”
Ms. Keane nodded, “I understand…” Though she had no appetite herself, she picked up her
fork and knife. On her plate was a slightly burnt, lumpy pancake in a shape that vaguely
resembled a heart. She swallowed the lump in her throat before forcing herself to eat.
“Sorry, it sucks.”
“Hm? No, Buttercup, it’s not bad at all. You did an excellent job!” To prove her point, Ms.
Keane took another bite with an audible ‘Mmm.’ When neither of the two responded, Ms.
Keane set her utensils down to watch them, “Girls…I-”
Before she could continue, an impatient, heavy knock on the door cut her off. Without a
word, Buttercup shot from the couch and out the door.
“Hey! Buttercup how’s-”
“Quit banging on the door, dummy! Ms. Keane’s trying to rest!”
“Oh crap, sorry…uh…is she okay?”
“Ugh…come in.”
When she returned, there were three Rowdyruffs, clearly concerned but doing their best to
hide it. They hovered awkwardly by the couch when Buttercup sat back down.
“Uh…morning, teach…man you got banged up, huh?” Brick commented.
Ms. Keane couldn’t help but laugh at the look Buttercup shot at him.
“It’s mostly my leg. But, thank you for your concern, Brick.” Whether it was the painkillers
or the blush on Brick’s face, she found herself laughing again.
Brick scratched the back of his head, “Yeah, whatever.”
Just as Ms. Keane began to let her guard down, Boomer decided to speak up.
“What happened? Weren’t you, like, here?”
Ms. Keane blinked and mentally cursed herself for not even thinking about what she would
say if one of the kids asked. She didn’t dare tell them the truth. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel
they deserved to know. But, all the same, she wasn’t sure she was ready to tell them.
“I um…” She took an extra long sip of her coffee, her foggy brain struggling against sleep
deprivation and painkillers to come up with a believable excuse, “I was worried about
Blossom, I thought she may have gone to school, so I was in that area when…I’m not sure
what it was. I just remembered a flash of light and then I woke up and my leg was broken.”
“Oh, right, where is she anyway?” Brick asked with a sneer. He quickly bit his lip and shook
his head, “Ugh, my bad…”
Butch quickly chimed in, “Yeah, totally isn’t like her to miss a fight with Pops.”
Before anyone could respond, Boomer pushed his way past his brothers.
“Is she okay? Did something happen to her? Is it because she got sick?”
Ms. Keane was surprised when Buttercup jumped up. She snatched Bubbles’ hand and
tugged her to her feet.
“She’s fine…she’s just fine. C’mon, we need to talk to Mojo.” Without waiting for an answer,
she dragged Bubbles to the door and motioned for the boys to follow, “You coming?”
“Mojo? What about school?” Ms. Keane asked with a yawn.
“Uh…well, I mean…see Mojo wanted to-”
“We think Mojo might know something about what happened to Blossom,” Bubbles spoke
up. She offered Ms. Keane an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry, Ms. Keane. If he really does
know something, then we’ve gotta talk to him as soon as we can.”
Buttercup forced a laugh, “Yeah, and uh…if it gets us in trouble, I mean, what’s the worst
that could happen? At least we get to spend another year with you, right?”
“You can’t let her end up like me.”
“Promise me, Cass…promise me that you’ll save Blossom.”
“You’re right,” Ms. Keane set her coffee down on the tray and rubbed her eyes, “Finding
Blossom is so much more important. Just promise me that you’ll come back and let me know
what you find out, alright?”
“We promise,” Bubbles replied with a nod.
Her eyelids heavy, Ms. Keane nodded, “Could one of you take-” she smiled and laid back
when the tray was lifted from her lap, “Thank you, Butch. Stay safe, kids.” She tried to fight
the darkness coming to claim her, afraid of where she might end up in her dreams.
Now though, she had a new glimmer of hope. Perhaps it was foolish of her to keep hoping
when hers had been crushed so many times. Even if it made her a fool, she would keep
believing. She couldn’t save her sister…but if there was any chance, no matter how small,
she would keep hoping that her daughter could be saved.
Perez looked up, hearing the tell-tale whoosh of superheroes on the scene. He’d been
expecting them. The night before, Mojo had requested to be given a chance to speak with the
Powerpuff Girls when they visited him in the morning. And that morning, they’d received a
call from Bubbles asking if they could speak with him after breakfast.
What he hadn’t been expecting were the Rowdyruff Boys. He raised an awkward hand in
greeting when they flew up to his desk.
“Hey! It’s Officer P!” Brick pointed out.
At his side, Butch chimed in, “Yo, Officer P, how’s it goin?”
Perez looked back and forth between them, then at Bubbles and Buttercup.
“It’s, um, another day. Are you,” Perez cleared his throat, “Are you boys staying out of
trouble?”
“Duh, dude,” Boomer laughed, “We’re helpin’ the Powerpuff Girls now!”
Brick flew in front of the officer, arms crossed, “C’mon dude, do you watch TV? We totally
helped save the whole freakin’ town!”
“Yeah, dude, you livin’ under a dock?” Butch asked with a laugh.
Boomer blinked and scratched his head.
“Isn’t it under a rock?” He winced when Brick punched him in the arm.
“Dude, don’t be dumb. You can’t live under a rock.”
Boomer flinched and rubbed his arm when Butch flew up and hit it again.
“Yeah, don’t be dumb, Boomer.”
“My bad.” Boomer apologized with a shrug.
Perez turned back to Bubbles and Buttercup with an incredulous stare.
Bubbles giggled, “They’re telling the truth, Officer Perez. They’re heroes now!”
“Yeah, we’ll keep an eye on them,” Buttercup assured him, “Is Mojo here?”
Perez glanced at the boys, shrugged and climbed to his feet.
“Yeah, he’s been waiting for you. This way.”
The kids floated after Perez as he hobbled his way to the back of the station. Bubbles offered
to help him down the stairs, which he politely declined. Down another flight and three doors
down, they came to their final stop. Peeping through the window, the kids could see Mojo
inside at a long metal table.
“See that mirror? It’s a two-way mirror. I’ll be on the other side if you need me.” Perez
explained, unlocking the door and tugging it open. Once the kids were inside, he shut the
door. With one last glance inside, he made his way into the adjoining room.
The room was empty, save for a couple of uncomfortable stools, and the recording equipment
hooked up to the two-way mirror. Closing and locking the door behind him, Perez cut the
audio from the interrogation room and turned off the video feed. Taking a seat, he gripped his
cane and lowered his head. If anyone found out, he’d have a hell of a time explaining
himself.
But, the alternative was so much worse. If anyone else found out what was discussed in that
room, there was no telling the harm it might cause. He didn’t even dare listen, himself. The
last thing he wanted was to be proven right.
The room was sparsely decorated by design. A long, heavy metal table bolted to the floor
with two chairs on one side and one on the other. There was no carpet and nothing on the
walls. Mojo sat on one side of the table, handcuffed and shackled to the table. Bubbles and
Buttercup took the other two seats, with the Rowdyruff Boys floating behind them.
Mojo was still in his clothes from the day before. His eyes were kept glued to the table, not
even looking up when the kids entered.
“Good morning, Jojo,” Bubbles chirped, “Did you sleep okay?”
“I did…yes, for the first time in what seems like forever.” Mojo drew in a long, deep breath,
letting it out in a sigh, “We needn’t waste time on banal pleasantries. You are here to ask me
what I know about Blossom’s disappearance, are you not?”
Bubbles glanced at Buttercup. Sensing her power rising, she reached under the table and
grabbed her mitt, giving it a tight squeeze. She smiled when Buttercup squeezed back.
“You said…you made sure she would be there. What did you mean?” Buttercup finally
asked, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.
“It was part of the plan…when Aku appeared, something terrible came over me. Some
malignant force that yearned to exist. It was as if I was possessed by the machine before it
was even conceived. It felt…it felt right, good, as if I had purpose. But, the more I worked on
it, the more its fingers crept into my brain, driving my every thought until it was all I knew.”
“What the hell?” Brick scoffed, “C’mon, Pops, I ain’t a genius, but I know you can’t be
controlled by something that ain’t real.”
Mojo smiled slightly, “I thought the same as you, my son. I was certain it was simple
inspiration. And yet…” his smile disappeared, replaced by a grimace of pain, “I cannot find
any other way to describe what it was that came over me. Any time my confidence faltered or
I reached a dead end, it was as if I could hear the machine speaking to me. Willing me in the
direction of its choosing.”
“Mojo, what about Blossom?” Buttercup asked, cutting him off.
The scientist nodded, his jaw moving as he struggled to find the right words.
“Yes, of course, my apologies. You see…the machine needed power. Power unlike anything
else in this world. Power that could not only rival that of the titans but overwhelm them. It
needed Chemical X. Not just any Chemical X, no, no somehow the machine knew. It knew
there was a difference and it desired, it yearned, it demanded your Chemical X.”
“Dude, so you like-” before Butch could even get the words out, Buttercup stood up in her
seat, smashing her fists into the table, ripping off a chunk out of it like it was made of
cardboard.
“You used her, didn’t you!?” she demanded.
Mojo’s shoulders shook. His lips moved silently, but eventually he nodded.
“I did. Using a weapon to remove her powers temporarily and a containment capsule filled
with Antidote-X, I…” Mojo screwed his eyes shut, “I could have tried harder to defy it, but
by that point the machine was built, it was…I couldn’t defy it, I tried so hard. It wanted me to
destroy her once I had enough Chemical X, but I refused. I returned her powers, then returned
her to your bed before morning. I knew it had gone too far. But, I thought that…I thought that
so long as she was there to defy me, she would win as she always does.”
Mojo looked up at them for the first time.
“Why was she not with you?”
“Because what you did made her sick!” Buttercup shouted.
Mojo’s eyes widened, “What? That was not part of the plan, I never…” he trailed off,
bringing his fingers to his chin, “That couldn’t be…”
“Wait, that’s why!” Boomer exclaimed, “That’s why she was in the rain because of whatever
Pops did to her.” As he worked through his own theory, the anger in Boomer’s voice rose
until he was screaming. With a roar, he hurled himself at Mojo, only to be stopped by his
brothers. “It’s your fault she got hurt! It’s all your fault!”
“Dude, chill!”
“Boomer, cut it out!”
After a brief struggle, Boomer hurled his brothers away from him. Instead of charging at
Mojo, he thrust his mitt at his father.
“I thought it was my fault for being late, but it was you! You’re the one who hurt her!”
Boomer let his arms drop to his sides, his fists trembling. He jerked away from her when
Bubbles tried to comfort him.
“That doesn’t make any sense…nothing about the procedure should have caused any
permanent, lasting, or debilitating physical damage. Her powers were suppressed, but I
utilized the Power Gun to give them back to her so she could recover quickly.” Mojo rapped
his fingers on the table, “It worked on Princess Morebucks, there’s no reason it shouldn’t
have worked on her.”
“Alright, c’mon,” Brick floated back to his spot by Buttercup, adjusting his hat, “Is no one
else gonna ask? Fine! I’ll do it!” He turned to glare at Mojo, “How’d you even catch
Blossom? She was like, way stronger than all the rest of us and it was the middle of the night.
No way you snatched her out of her bed.”
To his surprise, Buttercup was the first to reply.
“That’s not important, we need to find out where she is now.”
Butch, picking himself up and dusting off his pants, shook his head, “Nah, I don’t buy that.
Brick’s right, how’d Pops even get Blossom to his place? It doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t matter!” Buttercup shot back, a sudden surge of power erupting from her skin. Her
eyes were alight with jagged energy and her fists were shaking, “Drop it!”
Bubbles—the only one not knocked to the floor by Buttercup’s outburst—took her sister’s
hand in both of hers and shook her head.
“Buttercup, it’s okay. I know you want to-”
Buttercup’s fury faltered, the light in her eyes flickering.
“What? No, Bubbles it’s really not-”
Bubbles shook her head again.
“Saturday night, after Blossom woke up, she told me that…sometimes she feels like she’s
someone else. The way she said it…” Bubbles wrapped her arms around her middle, hugging
herself tight, “She was afraid of what the other person would do. Afraid that every time she
closed her eyes…she might not be herself when she opened them again.”
Bubbles rubbed her eyes, but fresh tears quickly slipped through to replace the ones she’d
wiped away. She turned to Buttercup.
“It was her, wasn’t it? The other Blossom who…who was k-killing those people.”
For Buttercup, it was like the floor had bottomed out beneath her. Her legs shook and gave
out, dumping her onto the ground. She drew her knees in, hoping she could become small
enough to not have to answer her sister’s question. She jumped, looking up when she felt a
hand on her shoulder. Her resolve cracked and she felt fat, hot tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Sh-she…she said that…” Buttercup angrily wiped her eyes and swallowed the lump in her
throat, “That’s wh-what sh-she told me, too. A d-different Blossom and that she was…she
was losing.” She slammed her fist into the ground, shaking the floor, “I tried, Bubbles. I tried
to stop her, but…but she just left. She left and wouldn’t tell me where she was going.”
The sisters looked up, hearing someone clear their throat. Despite his usual bravado, Brick
couldn’t bring himself to make a snide remark when he met their gaze.
“I, um…I think I might know.” He murmured, “See, um…” With a frustrated groan, he
turned away and crossed his arms, “That was like, totally Aku’s plan. The stuff he sent after
you? Sending us to your school? He…he wanted us to screw with Blossom to try and like, fill
her with his power.”
Bubbles quickly covered her mouth to muffle a high-pitched cry. Buttercup pulled her knees
in tighter and lowered her head, clenching her teeth until her entire body began to shake.
“Wh-what?” Brick asked, unsure if he should continue.
“That’s…” Buttercup drew in a shaky breath, “That’s ex…exactly what Bl-Blossom said…
she said that was his plan wh-when we had our big fight on S-Saturday…”
“Seriously?” Brick took his hat off and scratched his head, “So, like…she knew the whole
time?”
Before anything more could be said, there was a knock at the door. Perez poked his head in.
“Hey, sorry to interrupt, but…we’re out of time. I gotta get Mojo back to his cell.” He pushed
the door open, glancing back down the hall before continuing, “I might be able to get you
more time, but not today.”
“Thanks, Officer P,” Butch said, moving over to the sisters. After floating awkwardly, he held
his hand out. He offered Bubbles a small smile, helping her to her feet. The group shuffled
toward the door, pausing only when Mojo spoke up.
“Girls, boys…” Mojo waited until they turned to look at him before continuing, “Does the
word…’Doomsday’ seem familiar to any of you?”
The kids traded a look. Buttercup shrugged.
“One of your weapons or something?” She frowned when Mojo shook his head.
“No, nevermind, it’s…it’s probably nothing.”
Bubbles hung back, waiting until the others were gone to turn and say goodbye to Jojo. The
words got caught in her throat; her eyes grew wider.
There, on the table beside Mojo, was Octi. He was looking her dead in the eye, head tilted to
the side playfully, a suggestive smile on his lips.
She blinked, and Octi was gone. Bubbles rubbed her eyes and shook her head.
“Oh, um, bye, Jojo. We’ll tell you if we find out anything!” Though he didn’t say anything in
response, Bubbles could see the hopeful smile on Mojo’s face as he nodded. Smiling in
return, she hurried after the others.
The Mountain’s air was crisp and refreshing, a trail of flowers showing the Professor the way
back to the base. Even with his renewed energy and a clear path, he was still not an athletic
man and it would be at least a day or more before he reached the bottom.
While the trip was long and uneventful, it did give him plenty of time to think. And though
he’d pursued a career as a scientist, a thinker by trade, he found in the last several hours more
to think about than he’d ever imagined possible. He’d come for the sword, that much was
certainly true, but he’d found so much more.
Knowing what he now knew about himself, about the world, about his children, he was
certain they could find a way out of this mess. His last obstacle would just be convincing his
grandmother and cousin that this was the only way. No, his grandmother, he was sure, would
understand. Given that she had made the climb as well there was no doubt that she had seen
the truth the moment she laid eyes on him. No, the last battle would be convincing Michiko.
Thankfully, he thought with a sigh, he was armed now with something more convincing than
any argument and stronger than any weapon. Now, he had the Truth.
For Blossom, the day had been like a dream. Though her pain was gone, it was taking far
longer than she had anticipated to acclimate to her new body. Despite her insistence that she
needed just a few more minutes, for every five or ten minutes she spent awake, she quickly
succumbed to sleep for several more hours.
It was after sunset when she was finally awakened by something more powerful than her
fatigue: hunger. Aku teased her growling tummy, but also promised that he would treat her to
the “greatest meal the world had ever known.”
“But!” Aku paused for both dramatic effect and to chomp down the last piece of cheese
bread. “A FOOLISH samurai warrior wielding a magic sword stepped forth to oppose me.”
Blossom leaned against the table, her cheeks resting on her hands, enraptured by the demon’s
story. Despite Aku’s eloquence, it wasn’t exactly overflowing with detail. But, something
she’d learned in the short time she’d been awake was that the transformation had brought
them even more in sync. So, as he spoke, she reached out with her mind to his and let his
feelings bleed into her own.
She felt his triumph as he rose and unleashed his unspeakable evil. She felt his pride and
fearlessness as he described her ancestor. And she felt his adrenaline surge as he made loud,
playful sound effects to describe their battle.
“But, before the final blow was struck-” Aku paused again. His excitement melted into her
anticipation, drawing a gasp out of his audience of one, “I tore open a portal in time, and
flung him into the future where my evil was law!”
Blossom’s hands flew to her mouth, smothering a snort but failing to hold back the hysterical
laughter that followed. She felt confusion moments before the connection was broken.
“What? What is so humorous? This is the tragic tale of Aku’s unjust downfall!” Aku huffed,
snatching his coke and sucking down the entire glass in one breath.
“I’m sorry!” Blossom giggled, trying to get control of herself. When she looked up at him
and saw his indignant expression, she fell back in her seat, laughing again.
Aku pouted and crossed his arms, glaring at the sassy squealing girl across from him.
“You should be weeping tears of unspeakable sorrow, not giggling at my destruction.” His
sizzling eyebrows shrunk when Blossom reached across the table for his hand. When he
touched her, the connection between them re-opened, but now it was her feelings blurring
with his. Try as he might to resist it, her mirth quickly overcame his indignance and he began
to laugh as well.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Blossom apologized, taking a sip of her drink. When she
looked up at Aku again, she giggled again, “I’m not laughing because you were beaten…I’m
just laughing at your plan.”
Aku stuck his tongue out at her, “What was so wrong with Aku’s plan? It was brilliant! I send
the fool far into the future where I’ve had time to become ALL POWERFUL! Then, faced
with a world that is ruled over entirely by Aku, his spirit is broken and he eventually gives in
to the hopelessness of his endeavor.”
“Okay, but that’s a terrible plan, Aku!” Blossom bit her lip to keep from laughing again, “You
just created a closed timelike curve where it’s inevitable that he returns to destroy you. I
mean, he had almost defeated you. So by sending him into the future, if he ever does find a
way back, there’s no way you could ever defend yourself.”
“Well, yes, but-”
“Because of the way the time loop works, if he ever finds a way back, he’s not just going to
come back when you’re at your weakest, he’s going to come back so much stronger than he
was when you sent him forward in time.”
“That is…” Aku raised a hand to argue, but lowered it and frowned, “Well, yes, that is
exactly what happened. But, there is still the chance that he either dies in the future or gives
up.”
Blossom rolled her eyes.
“I mean, yes. But, you had already lost. You sent Imagawa-kensei into the future because you
were afraid of dying. He stood up to you because he wasn’t. That’s what makes a hero
different from just someone in a fancy costume. When everything is on the line, when their
back is up against a wall, and when everyone else is saying it’s hopeless, that’s when they’re
most dangerous. You can’t destroy a hero’s hope, Aku, because a true hero is hope.”
Aku’s fingers wrapped tighter around her mitt. It wasn’t the words she was saying, though
they were very convincing words. No, it was her vulnerability and her honesty that tore down
his defenses. He had spent so much of his existence hating the samurai, but as her conviction
pierced through his soul, he felt admiration for the very man who had slain him.
“Now that is wisdom if I’ve ever heard it!” Ms. Deville exclaimed, topping off the pair’s
drinks, “Land sakes, I never thought I’d have a genuine Powerpuff girl in my restaurant. Mr.
Ku I had no idea you were so popular. And Ms. Blossom, hon, if you need anything, just let
me know.”
“Thank you, Ms. Deville!” Blossom giggled and stuck her tongue out at Aku, “This was
definitely the greatest meal the world has ever known.”
Ms. Deville chuckled, “You kids are too kind.”
“This is nothing more than a frivolous and insulting lawsuit. I’m not surprised that the
representation for this nation’s brattiest, so-called super-heroines would stoop so low as to
attack our Department of Homeland Security, but-”
“For Christ’s sake, does that windbag ever run out of air?” Ms. Deville shook her head and
rested her hands on her hips, “All he did when he was mayor here was talk about his bridge.
Now that he’s some hotshot senator all he talks about is his superhero law, tch.” She shook
her head and cleaned up some of the empty dishes on the table, “Swear, I could go the rest of
my life without hearing his voice again. Never liked that awful man.”
Blossom’s hand slipped from Aku’s, hanging limp at her side. His voice, more than his
words, battered against her head until a sharp pain began to form. She choked down an
involuntary growl. Her eyes seemed to be glued to the television, glued to Senator Kane’s
face. She blinked and red pulsed at the very edge of her vision.
Aku turned away from the television, watching the way Blossom’s mood changed, almost as
if a switch had been flipped. He began to reach out to her, but paused when he noticed the
almost-growl. Afraid of what may happen if he touched her, he instead reached out to her as
she had to him. His eyes snapped open and he quickly turned, grabbing Ms. Deville’s apron.
“Madame Devil, let us be done with this wind bag.” Aku glanced back at Blossom, who was
still transfixed by the senator, “More cheese bread! Yes! The night is still young and there is
yet more room for your delicious baking.”
Ms. Deville nodded, hunting for the remote to turn the television off, “I couldn’t agree more,
Mr. Ku. I’ll have that out in a jiffy.” Making her way to the kitchen, Ms. Deville paused to
shiver and rub her aching hands. She looked at the door and shook her head, “Must be a
storm coming…”
“Blossom! Please, regale Aku with the story of your own creation! We have spoken much of
Aku, but so little of you.” Aku slipped his hand around Blossom’s mitt and gave it a squeeze.
Blossom blinked as if only a second had passed. She giggled and squeezed Aku’s hand back,
scooting her chair closer to his, “Don’t pretend you don’t like talking about yourself,” she
teased.
Aku laughed and stroked his beard.
“It is true, there is no topic more worthy of discussion than the mighty Aku. But, I think the
Powerpuff girl, Blossom, may be a close second.”
Blossom stared back at him, her face suddenly warm and her heart doing backflips. She tore
her eyes away from his and took a breath to try to calm down.
“Okay…okay! Ahem,” Blossom cleared her throat and sat up straight. After her own
dramatic pause, she began, “Sugar…Spice…and Everything Nice. These were the ingredients
chosen to create the Perfect Little Girl! But…”
As she continued, in the back of her mind she could hear Bubbles and Buttercup’s complaints
that she wasn’t a good storyteller and tried to ignore them. The harder she tried, the more
clearly she could feel the prickles of fire and lightning crawling up her back.
Lightning Crashes
Chapter Summary
While Buttercup and Bubbles chase down leads in search of Blossom, the Rowdyruff
Boys head to City Hall to ask about becoming official superheroes for Townsville.
Across the river, Aku teaches Blossom the ins and outs of what it means to be Aku. And,
at the other side of the world, a young woman watches a mountain through the night.
In the depths of the Pit of Hate, a little girl stood in front of a mirror, still fascinated with the
changes that she’d gone through in just twenty-four hours. She ran her hands along her dirty
dress, cringing inwardly as she felt every imperfection in the stitching and every flake or
speck of dirt. Her mitts lingered on the blood stains.
“What is it that troubles you, Blossom?” a deep voice asked, causing her heart to flutter.
Blossom glanced over her shoulder, flashing Aku a bright smile.
“Oh, it’s nothing.” She resumed gazing at her reflection and sighed. Shaking her head, she
admitted, “Okay, it’s not nothing.”
Aku slid up behind her. Though he towered over her, she found his intense presence
comforting. Maybe it was the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled at her, his
flaming eyebrows projecting the warmth in his gaze. Perhaps, though, it was that there was
no misunderstanding Aku. He wore his emotions on his sleeve, saying whatever it was he
meant to say as if it were the easiest thing in the world.
Of course, she could always reach out and touch his mind with hers, but she quickly found it
wasn’t necessary. She admired that about him: how he could be so sincere, so honest without
trying.
Maybe, if she were being honest, she envied that part of him.
“You are concerned about your appearance?” Aku tapped his chin, his head moving in
time with hers when she nodded in response.
“I’m worried, Aku…Ms. Deville was so nice, but she recognized me immediately. If…if
other people recognize me, they’ll find me. And…I’m not ready.” Blossom’s shoulders sank.
She gripped her chest, feeling heat pulsing beneath the surface, “I’m just not ready to face
them, yet.”
Blossom blinked, caught off guard by Aku’s flip of his wrist and flippant shrug.
“If it is just appearances that concern you, why not change?” Aku melted into shadows,
emerging in his monster disguise, “It is simple enough with the power that is Aku.”
“You mean…shapeshift?” Blossom brought her mitt to her lips and tilted her head, “I…I
can’t do that.” She bit her lip to restrain a gasp when Aku’s arm slipped around her shoulders.
When his reflection, now kneeling next to hers, smiled, she felt her lips curl upward in kind.
“If it is within Aku’s power, then surely it is within Blossom’s.” He tilted his head to mirror
the way she was standing, bringing his fist to his lips. When he smiled, she could swear she
saw rose sparkles in his crimson eyes.
Blossom nodded, dusting her dress off and spreading her feet. She took a deep breath before
looking up at Aku, “How do I do it?” She asked.
Aku rose to his feet and cleared his throat.
“First, you must keep your true self rooted in your mind. Know entirely what it is that makes
you Blossom. Once you have a firm grasp upon your true self, realize that this body is but a
part of that whole.” Aku melted into shadows again, his form twisting and growing into the
shape of a great black dragon. He roared and blew a stream of fire into the air, “Release your
outward appearance and command it to change.”
He transformed once more, returning to his monster form.
“Do not be afraid.” Aku folded his arms behind his back, “You can begin with something
simple. Will your essence to replace your dress with fresh attire.”
Blossom faced herself once more and nodded. Locking eyes with her reflection, she drew in a
deep breath. The world around her slowed to a crawl before expanding outward. Her eyes
took in every fragment of her appearance, from her height to the number of hairs on her head;
her ears memorized the sound of her heartbeat and her blood flowing. Every scent, every
taste within her own mouth, within that infinite moment, she etched every detail, no matter
how small, to memory.
She blinked and turned to Aku with a sheepish laugh.
“Um, would it be okay if you turned ? I want to take my dress off so I don’t ruin it.”
“Oh, um, yes, of course.” The monster turned around and walked several paces away.
Blossom sighed with relief, laughing one last time, “Thank you, Aku!” With lingering
trepidation, she gripped the hem of her dress and tugged it over her head, tossing it aside.
Biting her lip, she finally looked into the mirror. Her eyes fell shut and she drew in one last
breath.
‘Change…to look more like him’
At first, she expected nothing to happen. Then, when she felt a tingle run up her spine, she
expected it to hurt. But, as her flesh began to unravel and twist, she was shocked by how
natural it felt. Reaching her arms out, she slowly spread the fingers growing from her mitts.
She arched her back, growing taller and catching her balance as feet took form beneath her.
Even as her face changed and fabric rose out of her skin, it all felt so…effortless.
Opening her eyes, she laughed. She touched her green cheeks with sharp, slender fingers.
Tracing her lips with her fingertips, she ran her hands along her new, light pink blouse. She
did a twirl, marveling at the way her black skirt flowed and how easy it was to maneuver on
her new feet. Hearing a sound behind her, she giggled, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her
ear.
“So…how did I do?” she asked with a grin, “Not bad for my first try, huh?”
Aku turned, words catching in his throat as his mouth fell open. She’d grown to twice her
original height. Her proportions were more human, though still petite, and her hair was pulled
back into a ponytail by a long red ribbon. With a button nose, fangs poking out beneath her
ruby lips, and two small black horns on her head, there was no denying their similarities. Nor
was it possible to deny their differences. He was severe and imposing, while she was…
“Beautiful,” Aku murmured, the word slipping free before he was aware of its existence.
When she giggled and blushed in response, his hand moved to grip his chest and a smile
found its way to his lips.
“You really come here every day?” Blossom asked as the pair stepped through the heavy
doors to Citiesville Hall. Her usual confidence stymied by a sudden onset of self-
consciousness caused by her disguise, she stayed close to Aku, holding his arm tight.
Despite her concern, the workers went on with their day without paying the pair a second
glance. Even when Aku snatched a coffee from one of the interns and a newspaper from
another, they carried on as if nothing had happened.
“I do! As the heart of this vile town, there is no better place to drink in the misery,” Aku took
a sip from the coffee, a delighted smile lighting up his face, “Ha ha! The fools have at last
prepared this bitter beverage to Aku’s liking!” Aku took another sip of the overly saccharine
coffee and directed Blossom toward the break room. He chuckled and took his usual seat at
the back of the room.
“Despite their numerous flaws, humans can be trained after all.”
Blossom slid into a seat and scooted closer to him, “Whose coffee was that? Do you take that
every day, too?”
“Indeed!” Aku laughed, “It does not matter for whom it was intended, it has become Aku’s.”
After another sip, Aku sat back and flipped open the newspaper. His smile wavered, “Hm…”
Curious, Blossom rose from her seat to peer over his shoulder. Tucked away in the corner
was a small article about Townsville. “Can I see this page?” Blossom asked. She silently
thanked Aku and floated back to her seat, nose buried in the paper.
‘Not Another Manic Mojo

Following the attack on our neighboring city of Townsville on Sunday, details have finally
been uncovered about the nature of the attack. The simian scientist, Mojo Jojo, who has made
a name as the city’s regular nuisance, was thwarted by the combined efforts of the Powerpuff
Girls and the Rowdyruff Boys. This comes as a surprise, given the Rowdyruffs status as
career troublemakers, but, according to a source close to Townsville PD, the reason for the
belligerent boys’ cooperation was due to the disappearance of the Powerpuff Girls’ leader,
the bossy, bow-headed Blossom Utonium.
Details about Blossom’s disappearance are still being kept under lock and key, but it is
believed that Mojo Jojo himself may be responsible. When reached for clarification, the
Townsville PD declined to comment.’
“Mojo attacked?” Blossom set the paper down on the table. The room pulsed red in time with
her heartbeat, “I…I should have been there.” She brought her hand to her mouth, chewing on
her finger, “They could have been hurt…oh no…”
Aku tried to focus on the words in the paper, or the sweet taste of his drink. Though he
narrowed his eyes, the words remained senseless, and though he drained the rest of his
coffee, he couldn’t taste a drop. Turning to Blossom, he could feel the heat radiating from
her. His head pounded in time with hers. Reaching out to her mind, he felt himself being
drawn into darkness.
“Ah!” Aku exclaimed, slamming his fist on the table, startling his young friend, “Have you
decided yet on an alias while we walk these streets in disguise?”
Blossom looked up, snapped out of her thoughts.
“An alias? Oh gosh, that’s right…I didn’t even think about it.” And, just like that, the heat in
the room was gone along with the red in her vision. Blossom tapped her chin, “Hm, what’s
your name, Aku?”
Aku puffed his chest out, and proudly declared, “When I walk these city streets, I am the
head of Human Resources at City Hall, Mr. Ku!” Just as quickly, he deflated, glaring at the
giggling girl next to him, “Child, it seems there is no end to the pleasure you take in mocking
Aku.”
“I’m sorry!” Blossom laughed, “I’m sorry, I am so sorry, I’m not trying to laugh at you, Aku.
It’s just…” She snickered and shook her head, “That’s just such a bad pseudonym. How has
no one realized who you are yet?”
Aku crossed his arms and glared at her, “I would like to see you do better, child,” he replied,
putting an emphasis on the word ‘child.’
“Oh! Um…well, I…” Blossom stared blankly ahead. She could feel Aku’s eyes bearing
down on her and, reaching just a bit further, she could feel his impatience and his
embarrassment. She frowned and looked down, “Um, Aku, I’m sorry for-”
“Hey! Told you the Boss would be here,” a familiar voice called out.
Blossom looked up. It was the two she’d seen in Aku’s memories. The school IT director and
the city contractor. Her throat shrank and her heart blasted in her chest when they noticed her.
Garrett, the taller of the two, raised his coffee in greeting.
“Hey, Boss, who’s this lovely young lady? You finally make a friend?” He flashed her a
charming smile, “I’m Garrett, by the way. And this is Seamus,” he said.
Aku slid close to Blossom, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. A cheeky grin was spread
across the entire length of his face.
“Ah! You are correct. Friends, Garrett and Seamus, this is my dear companion who has come
from home to visit me.” Aku cleared his throat, tapping his fingers against Blossom’s arm,
“Go on, introduce yourself.”
“Um…” Blossom stared at the two like a deer in headlights, eyes flitting back and forth
between them. She drew in a breath, slowing the entire room to a crawl, hoping to buy herself
time to think. “Uh…” Instead, she started counting the different patches on Seamus’s plaid
shirt. She felt herself drowning in the sugary sweet smell of Aku’s coffee. She could hear
someone—the Mayor, she reasoned, judging by his threats—yelling about their missing
coffee at the other end of the building.
Aku squeezed her shoulder, causing her to catch her breath.
Blossom jumped to her feet and bowed.
“W-watashi wa Sakura desu!” she squeaked out. Her cheeks were burning and it was taking
every ounce of her willpower to block out the self-satisfied mirth she could feel pouring out
of Aku. She looked up, her cheeks turning even more red when Seamus’s face lit up.
“Ey, hajimemashite, Sakura-chan,” he replied with a bow of his own.
Garrett groaned, bringing his hand to his forehead.
“Seamus, babe, please knock off the weeb shit. You’re embarrassing her,” He rolled his eyes
and shook his head, “I’m so sorry. He watches a ton of anime.”
Seamus laughed, “I mean, I do, but c’mon, she’s Japanese. I’m just being polite, Gary.”
“You’re being a weeb,” Garrett shot back, jerking his head toward the door. “Listen, we just
stopped by to say hi, Boss. You two take care, we gotta run.” Grabbing the back of Seamus’
shirt, he hurried to the door.
“Keep fightin’ the good fight, Boss! You too, Sakura-chan!” Seamus called while being
dragged out of the room.
Once they were gone, Aku threw his head back, holding his belly as he laughed uproariously.
“Hush,” Blossom murmured, returning to her seat and burying her head in her arms. She bit
her lip, fighting to stay afloat amidst the dark and humiliating thoughts pouring into her
brain. She screwed her eyes shut, feeling the room pulse red.
She was pathetic.
She was stupid.
Before she could sink any further, she felt a gentle touch on her arm. Suddenly, a flood of
mirth and glee burst through the darkness. She quickly found herself biting her lip to keep
from laughing. She peeked up. When she saw Aku’s cheeky grin, she couldn’t help but laugh.
The police station was busier than usual that morning. Crime had been picking up in
Townsville since Aku’s arrival two weeks ago, but in the aftermath of the Infernal Machine’s
rampage things had returned to levels the force hadn’t seen in at least two years. For most
officers, it was a rude awakening. For Miguel Perez, it was just another tick in his
investigation.
He cursed and fumbled his way down the stairs, a brown paper bag in one hand, his cane in
the other. Hobbling his way down the hall, he nodded at the guard on duty.
“Hey, Hitchcock, here to see our guest.” He explained, holding up the bag. He handed it over,
waiting for the guard to inspect it before handing it back, though not before taking some of its
contents for himself.
“Thanks, Perez.” Hitchcock said between mouthfuls of banana bread, “He’s in the back, same
as always.” A loud buzz filled the hall and the door slid open.
Perez didn’t waste any time, hurrying through the hall. Although the Eastside Station was one
of their least used sites, like all of the others it had been fitted with a special holding cell for
Townsville’s favorite villain. Approaching the heavy steel door, the officer knocked on the
window and waited.
After several minutes a voice replied, “Yes?”
“Officer Perez, I need to talk with you. Stand back.” Perez waited until he heard shuffling
within. Taking a deep breath, he braced himself and punched in the unlock key. Another,
louder, buzzer sounded and the hall lit up red. Behind the heavy, reinforced door was a
standard holding cell. Its sole occupant was sitting at the back of the room, his hands held up
for the officer to see. “I, uh, got you something. Here.” Perez slipped his hand through the
bars and dropped the bag on the floor.
Mojo waited until the officer had stepped back before approaching. Peering into the bag, he
looked up with a raised eyebrow.
“Banana bread. My ma made it a couple days ago,” Perez explained.
“I see…thank you, officer.” Mojo returned to the back of the room and took a bite. He rolled
his head back and sighed, “This is very good. Quite excellent, even. Give your mother my
respects and my thanks.”
Perez leaned against the door, watching Townsville’s most wanted calmly, but happily
munching away. He waited until he was halfway through the second piece of banana bread
before speaking.
“What’s this Doomsday about, Mojo?”
The villain paused for a moment.
“Does…that word mean something to you, officer?” Mojo asked slowly, carefully choosing
each word.
Perez shook his head, “Not exactly, but, I figured if you were asking the kids about it, it must
mean something to you.” When Mojo seemed reluctant to answer, Perez continued, “There’s
something strange going on, Mojo, and I don’t just mean Aku. You’ve been the only one
attacking Townsville for months, but never like this. Suddenly, you build a robot that looks
like something out of Dante’s Inferno, and then when you lose, you seem like the kids did
you a favor.”
Mojo ate the last piece of bread and chewed it thoroughly before swallowing.
“So you’ve noticed then?” He finally asked.
“Noticed what?”
“You’re right. Crime disappeared in Townsville. Even I…it became a game. I hadn’t thought
of world domination until the night that Aku appeared. Suddenly, I was consumed by this
need to destroy the girls…my sisters. I’d forgotten that feeling…” Mojo shook his head, “I do
not like that feeling anymore, officer.”
“So what’s that got to do with the Doomsday? What is the Doomsday, anyway?” Perez asked.
“I don’t know. But, while I was working on the machine, that word slipped into my thoughts
and wouldn’t go away. I tried to look into my files, but the machine stopped me.” Mojo
looked into the bag, sighing in disappointment when it turned out empty, “All I know…
something is missing.”
Perez looked away and crossed his arms. Something missing? There were a number of things
that didn’t seem to add up, but what could possibly be missing? He had the numbers. He had
looked into every single crime in the last three years. There was no Doomsday. There was
nothing-
“Officer,” Mojo’s voice snapped Perez out of his thoughts. The scientist hesitated for a
moment, chewing on his lip. He lowered his head and continued, “Check my computer, my
files before this past Valentine’s Day. I feel…I feel like something is missing there.
Something important.”
“Before Valentine’s Day…” Perez mused. Reaching for his cell phone, he said his goodbyes
to Mojo and made a call, “Harry, it’s Miguel. Listen…”
High above the city of Townsville, the city’s defenders were gathered to discuss what to do
next. School was the furthest thing from anyone’s mind that morning as the questions brought
up by Mojo’s admission the day before instead dominated the conversation.
“Don’t you guys know where Aku is?” Buttercup asked impatiently.
Brick shook his head, “Like I said before, we never went to see him. He always just showed
up at our place.” Crossing his arms, he looked to the east, “We combed the place top to
bottom last night, but couldn’t find anything that might help us find him.”
“Yeah, he just warped into our pad and then warped out,” Butch added.
Buttercup growled and looked away. Bubbles touched her shoulder and turned to the boys
with a grateful smile.
“Thanks for looking, guys.” She gave her sister’s shoulder a shake, “I had an idea,
Buttercup.”
“Really?” Buttercup asked, her eyes wide and hopeful.
“Really!” Bubbles nodded, “I’m going to go ask Bullet if she’s seen anything. Since we know
Aku was at Fuzzy’s-”
“It’s totally possible that Bullet saw something!” Buttercup finished, “Bubbles, you’re
awesome!”
Bubbles giggled and folded her hands in front of her, “I know!”
The boys watched the exchange with matching looks of confusion.
“Uh, who’s Bullet?” Boomer asked the question they were all thinking.
“She’s a friend of ours!” Bubbles explained, “I’m the only person who can talk to her, so
while I track her down, everyone else can look somewhere else.”
Buttercup looked down, spying a familiar car.
“I think I’ve got a lead, too.” She said. Turning to the others, she nodded, “Alright, Bubbles’ll
talk to Bullet, and I’ll go talk to Detective Shomes.”
“What’re we supposed to do?!” Brick asked, throwing his arms up, “C’mon we wanna help,
too!”
“Dude, can’t you just figure it out? I’m sick of wasting ti-”
Before Buttercup could continue, Bubbles pushed her way between the pair. “Oh, I know!”
she exclaimed, “You should go talk to Ms. Bellum! While we look for Blossom, you can ask
her how you can help!”
“Ms. Bellum?” Butch asked.

Bubbles nodded and pointed in the direction of City Hall.
“That’s right! She’s the Mayor’s assistant. She knows everything that’s going on in town. If
there’s something you can do, I’m sure she can help!”
“Great. That’s a plan, let’s go!” Without waiting for any further argument, Buttercup
vanished with a snap and a burst of sparks, leaving behind a jagged green streak.
“Bye, boys! Good luck!” In a flash of blue, Bubbles was gone, leaving the three boys alone.
“Ugh, fine…” Brick groaned, “Let’s go talk to this old lady.”
Butch shrugged, “Better than going to school.”
“Word,” Brick mumbled. In a flash, the trio were off in the direction of City Hall.
“Is it always like this?” Blossom asked, clutching Aku’s arm with a death grip as he led the
pair through the crowded streets of Citiesville. It was nearly noon and the two had been
searching for some place to eat lunch for over an hour. She risked looking up as they
approached another restaurant.
Aku paused at the window, peering inside.
“This place seems uneventful,” he pointed out. But, before the two could take more than a
step toward the door, it was thrown open by the owner. The older man’s face was purple and
his knuckles white as he pointed a shotgun at the pair.
“No monsters!” He shouted, “How many times have I got to tell you filthy beasts to stay
away from here?” He shoved the gun into Aku’s chest.
Blossom stared wide-eyed. Citiesville had been terrible when they lived there, but nothing
like this. Her mouth went dry when she found herself staring down the barrel of the shotgun.
It wasn’t the fear of being shot that left her paralyzed. It was how callously the man had
aimed a loaded weapon at her for nothing more than walking past his restaurant. It was the
palpable fear, anger, disgust, and hate radiating from every pore on his body.
Staring down the barrel, her vision blurred and a pain pricked the back of her head. She could
hear an out of tune siren whistling in her ears. She could feel fire gripping her heart. Taking
in another breath of the man’s filthy scent, she could feel lightning thrumming in her
fingertips.
‘It would be so easy to smear him across the sidewalk.’ The thought came out of nowhere.
Unbidden, but so casual that it almost seemed reasonable. Her hand clenched into a fist; her
jaw tightened.
“Calm yourself, friend,” Aku’s voice was thick with venom, his warning clear. He tightly
gripped Blossom’s hand as he leaned down until he was nose to nose with the man, “Do not
do something foolish that you will regret.”
“J-just…just stay out!” The man shouted before retreating into the building, slamming the
door behind him.
Blossom watched him go, fighting against a snarl. Her body trembled. She drew in a breath,
assaulted not just by the man’s darkness, but the hate and fear of every person in his
restaurant. Every single one of those filthy, miserable, pathetic humans. Peering through the
walls, she could see some of them casting hateful glances her way. Listening close, she could
hear them muttering.
“Can you believe monsters?”
“Who do they think they are?”
“Scum, every one of them.”
“They’re so gross.”
“We never had monsters when Kane was the mayor.”
A gentle tug on her hand brought her back to her senses. Tearing her eyes away from the
restaurant, Blossom fell into step behind Aku.
“Do not let them trouble you,” He said, pulling her closer so that he could rest his hand on
her shoulder, “They are cosmic vermin, unworthy of serving someone like you.”
Blossom didn’t trust herself to speak. She simply nodded, wrapping her arms around his
waist and letting his thoughts overtake hers. There were still hints of fury in his mind, but
overwhelmingly there was a desire to protect her. She held onto that feeling, smiling as it
chased away the siren in her head.
Eventually, the two settled on hotdogs from a street vendor. While they had been just as
disinclined to serve them, Aku’s unspoken threat was enough to get them half-cocked,
panicked service. Aku found them a bench to sit on and the two sat eating in silence.
“Do you know why it hurts so much?” Blossom asked out of nowhere. Without waiting for
Aku to respond, she dug her fingers into her knee, her nails sharpening into claws. “I’ve felt
this before.”
“The fear?” Aku asked. He stared at his hotdog, but his appetite was strangely gone.
“All of it. The fear, the disgust…the hate. It’s…it’s what I felt from everyone around me
when we were born. After we…” Blossom grit her teeth, “After our game of tag wrecked the
city. The next day, all I could feel everywhere I looked was so much hate.” Her hand
clenched, crushing what remained of her hotdog.
“I understand,” Aku replied. He threw his hotdog to the ground, “From the moment I first
opened my eyes, hate was all I knew. It surrounded me, but it also flowed through me.” He
laughed mirthlessly, turning to look at her, “When hate is all you see, all you hear, and all you
feel…what is there to do but become hate itself?”
Blossom screwed her eyes shut. With a growl, she threw her hotdog across the street. It
pierced through the side of a dumpster, cracking the side of the building behind it. She buried
her face in her hands, digging her claws into her skin. The car horns and police sirens were
maddening. The jeering whispers and hateful looks were becoming too much to take.
“I want to leave,” the words came out as a cracked whisper, “Please, I want to leave, Aku.”
Aku helped her to her feet, holding her body close to his. Her red was seeping into his vision.
Her heat was setting his chest ablaze. Her darkness needed somewhere to escape, so he
accepted it willingly.
“Of course,” With a nod, he led her away from the crowds with no destination in mind.
From the day her class clown told her the story about the angels that saved him from a talking
monkey, through her career in meta-human law, and since returning home to serve as the
Mayor’s assistant, Ms. Bellum tried to live each day with an open-mind and prepared for
anything. Living in Townsville, the unexpected was a daily occurrence, almost to the point of
being expected. Even still, Ms. Bellum was seldom surprised by anything anymore.
When the Rowdyruff Boys arrived at City Hall, it was certainly unexpected. When they
asked to see her specifically, she was surprised.
“How can I help you, boys?” She asked in a measured, amused tone.
“We’re here for superhero work!” Brick exclaimed loudly.
Butch chimed in, “Yeah! So give us somethin’ to do!”
“We really don’t wanna go back to school,” Boomer added with a laugh, scratching his head
sheepishly. He flinched when Brick suddenly hit him in the arm.
“Dude, Boomer! We’re tryin’ to help the girls!” He crossed his arms and lowered his voice,
adding, “Don’t go tellin’ her that…”
Ms. Bellum raised an eyebrow and turned to her computer.
“Is that so? Well, you did help the Powerpuff Girls stop Mojo Jojo. I suppose we should
thank you properly for that.” She said over the clacking of her keys.
“Yeah, we’re big damn heroes. You should be throwing a parade for us!” Butch laughed.
Ms. Bellum replied with a polite smile without looking up from her work, “So, this wasn’t a
one-time deal with the girls? You really do want to be heroes now?”
“That’s what we said, lady.” Brick spoke up, “I thought you were supposed to be smart?”
“You understand that there are rules that apply once you decide to be heroes, right? You’ll be
expected to follow the law. No more stealing, no more vandalism, no more random acts of
destruction.” Ms. Bellum continued as if she hadn’t heard him. She finally paused, turning to
face them. “Is that understood, boys?”
The three little boys stared back, suddenly feeling incredibly small under her stern gaze.
Neither wanted to be the first to speak. Butch and Boomer turned to Brick. The Rowdyruff
leader, feeling all eyes on him, cleared his throat and crossed his arms.
“Yeah, La-” he froze at the subtle, almost imperceptible change in Ms. Bellum’s expression.
The corner of her mouth twitched and her gaze suddenly felt a thousand times heavier, “Y-
yes, ma’am.” Brick muttered, staring down at the floor.
The Rowdyruff Boys looked up when Ms. Bellum tapped her keyboard with one last, loud
clack . Their eyes moved to the printer at the end of the desk which had come alive. Finally,
they turned back to Ms. Bellum as she rose from her seat, plucking the freshly printed page
from the tray and making her way to the next room.
“Come along, boys. I’d like you to meet the Mayor.” She called over her shoulder.
Approaching the desk, she cleared her throat, “Mr. Mayor, you have guests.
The big chair behind the desk spun around, revealing the tiny old mayor of Townsville.
“Ooh, I love guests! Thank you, Ms. Bellum!” The Mayor turned, his eyes widening and his
monocle flying into the air. It did a flip before landing back in place just in time for the
Mayor to duck under his desk. “Ms. Bellum! It’s the Rowdyruff Boys! C-call the girls!”
Ms. Bellum sighed, trading a glance with the boys, who seemed more confused than before.
“Mr. Mayor, the Rowdyruff Boys are here to apply to join the Powerpuff Girls as
Townsville’s representative superheroes.” She explained in a dry tone.
The boys turned back to the desk, where the Mayor was once again in his seat, beaming at
them.
“They are? Why, that’s wonderful! Such enterprising young lads. I always said they would
make SUPER heroes if they just turned over a new leaf, didn’t I, Ms. Bellum?”
Ms. Bellum placed the printed paper on the Mayor’s desk.
“You’ve never said that, Mr. Mayor. Here is the HCT-16167 Application for Superhero
Activity form. If you would, Mr. Mayor?” Ms. Bellum pushed his pen in front of him.
The Mayor sat upright and adjusted his hat and monocle, “Ah, yes! You boys are in for a
treat. Here’s how a real Mayor does it!” Picking up his pen, the Mayor looked at the paper,
nodding and humming. Tapping his pen against his desk, he looked up at the boys, then back
at the paper.
For several tense moments, this continued. Brick glanced at Ms. Bellum, who was standing
impassively to the side. He cracked a grin when the Mayor tapped his pen and Ms. Bellum
pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head.
“Alright, everything looks to be in order. Here. We. Go!” With a flourish of his hand, the
Mayor signed the bottom of the paper and set his pen down, “All done!”
The moment the Mayor sat his pen down, Ms. Bellum stepped forward, turning the paper
around and plucking the pen from the desk.
“Thank you, Mr. Mayor. Now, boys, I need the three of you to sign on the space provided at
the bottom. This is just an application, but with this filed we can begin to get you hero work.”
When Brick reached for the pen, she pulled it away, “Once you sign this, your villain days
are over.” Her tone softened and she allowed herself a small smile, “We’ll be counting on you
boys.”
Brick looked at each of his brothers. Taking the pen, he floated over to the desk, signing his
name.
“Heh, you better. We’re gonna be the baddest heroes around.”
Butch was next, “Yeah! We’ll show the girls how it’s done.”
When he handed the pen to Boomer, the tow-headed boy stared at the paper. The letters
looked unfamiliar, and, as he tried to make sense of them, they bounced around the page. He
blinked and shook his head, but they continued to dance in front of him. The pen shook in his
mitt.
“That’s right! Great job, Boomer!”
Boomer licked his lips. The letters were staying put once more. With a firm grip on the pen,
he leaned against the desk as he carefully signed his name. Setting the pen down, he beamed
seeing that it looked right. He froze when Ms. Bellum picked up the paper and whispered,
“Good job.”
“So we’re heroes now, what can we do?” Brick asked, leading his brothers as they followed
Ms. Bellum into the next room, buzzing around her excitedly. After scanning the document,
she set it down on her desk and picked up her purse and car keys.
“I’ll be back, Mayor. Please let any calls go to voicemail.” she called out, “Boys, this way,
please.”
“I call shotgun!” Butch shouted, shooting ahead of his brothers with a cackle.
“What?! Dude, not cool! I’m the leader, I get shotgun! Butch! Butch, get back here!”
Townsville Construction was one of the busiest in the business. At the height of the
Powerpuff Girls’ adventures, they’d become a well-oiled machine that could put half the city
back together in record time and at a cost that didn’t leave the town bankrupt. The last couple
months, however, had left them with a shocking lack of work. When Lamonte, the head
foreman for the city reconstruction division, heard that Mojo Jojo had built a new robot, he’d
been ecstatic about getting back to work. Once they were on the scene, though, he had to
contend with the reality that months without work had left everyone rusty.
That was fine, between Mojo Jojo and the new baddie, whatshisname, they had plenty of
work to do to get their groove back. Then the robot came to life and wiped out the police
station and the surrounding area. Then Princess went on a rampage and tore apart the docks.
And, most recently, Mojo had shown up again in his meanest machine yet.
Lamonte took pride in his work, and he knew his team could handle it. But, God, what he
wouldn’t give for just one slow day so that they could finally get caught up. When a familiar
red sports car pulled up to his work site, he couldn’t help but swear, fearing the worst. Then,
seeing who Sara Bellum had in tow, he nearly had a heart attack.
“Howdy Sara,” he called, approaching the redhead and her odd crew. He offered her his hand,
grinning when she gripped it with a firm shake, “Been a minute since I last saw ya, ma’am.
What can I do you for?” He asked, trying to avoid looking at the trio of living devastation
floating just behind her.
“Lamonte. How are things coming along?” she asked.
All business, he thought, following her gaze to where his crew was working on getting an
apartment complex back together.
“Well, they’re coming.” With a weary sigh, he turned to face her, “I don’t reckon you come
around just to chat. That ain’t like you at all.”
She replied with one of her famous Bellum smiles. Then, she gestured to the three elephants
in the room.
“Boys, this is Foreman Lamonte. He’s in charge of the team that rebuilds Townsville after its
various disasters. As you can imagine, he’s a very busy man and the last week has been hard
on his team. For your first assignment, I would like you to assist him in any way you can
with the reconstruction effort.” Ms. Bellum turned to Lamonte, “Lamonte, in light of their
heroic actions this past Sunday, the boys have applied to work alongside the Powerpuff Girls
to protect Townsville as its resident superheroes.”
The foreman stared wide-eyed at the redhead, then turned to look at the boys. He cleared his
throat and offered his rough, dusty hand to the boys.
“Well, um, if Sara Bellum’s vouching for you, I could really use the help. If, uh, you boys
wanna help, that is.” Lamonte breathed a sigh of relief when the one in the red hat gave his
hand a shake.
“Dude, yeah!” He put his hands on his hips and laughed, looking at the site, “With us around,
you won’t need all that useless junk! We’ll have the whole town put back together before
dinner!”
The one with the crazy eye and the spiky hair shoved his way to the front, grinning like a kid
in a candy store.
“Can we knock stuff down? I know we gotta put stuff together, but do we get to knock stuff
down too?” Butch asked, shaking with excitement.
Lamonte scratched his patchy beard and nodded, chewing on his tongue.
“Yeah, I reckon there’s a few things ‘at we’re gonna need knocked down.” As he watched the
boys glow with excitement, he found himself smirking, “It’s hard work though, you sure you
boys are up to it?”
“Psh! Are you kiddin? This’ll be easy!” Brick boasted.
Boomer raised his hand, “Do we get cool yellow hats too?”
Lamonte adjusted his hard hat and nodded, “Sure do, superpowers or not, rules is rules.”
“Hell yeah!”
“Alright!”
“Wicked!”
Ms. Bellum cleared her throat. Four sets of eyes turned to her.
“I’m excited to see the work you’re able to do, boys. Before I go,” her voice suddenly
became stern, “While you are here, you will follow all of Foreman Lamonte’s directions. Is
that understood? If I get any complaints, I will pull you from this project and place you on
probation. That means no superhero activities, including giant robots or monster attacks.”
Boomer and Butch looked at Brick, who swallowed and nodded his head.
“Y-yeah, totally. Sure thing, La…uh” He glanced at Lamonte. The foreman was shaking his
head, his lips pressed into a firm thin line. Brick cleared his throat, averting his gaze, “Um.
Yes, ma’am.”
Ms. Bellum turned to the other two, “Boomer? Butch?”
Butch blinked and Boomer pointed at himself. When she nodded, they traded a look.
“Er uh, yeah, I guess. I mean, yes ma’am.” Butch replied.
Boomer nodded his head fiercely, “Yes, Ms. Bellum, ma’am!”
And just like that, the stern, chilling look vanished and she smiled.
“Thank you, boys. I’ll be back to pick you up later. Be on your best behavior.” With one last
nod to the foreman, she returned to her car. She waited for a moment, watching the boys
excitedly fly around Lamonte while the foreman struggled to keep up with them. Laughing
softly, she started her car and pulled away from the work site.
The volcano top lair of Mojo Jojo had seen better days. As she pushed aside another pile of
junk, Buttercup turned away, hand covering her mouth. Mounds of trash and scrap littered the
floor and a stale, unfamiliar scent hung in the air.
“Just about everything here’s been burnt to Hell and back,” Shomes pointed out from the
other side of the observatory. He lightly pushed on Mojo’s favorite recliner, only for it to fall
apart. “Looked like a nice chair,” he noted.
Buttercup wiped the sweat from her brow, “He must’ve been using the volcano when he was
building that thing.”
“Would’ve had to,” Shomes said in agreement, “Damn thing was too big to fit in this place
otherwise. He probably had to keep at least half of it in the lava.”
Buttercup flew into the air, eyes lighting up as she looked for any clue, no matter how small,
that might point her in Blossom’s direction. Spying a microscopic drop of orange, she fell
back to the floor, dropping to her hands and knees and feeling around on the floor.
“Find something?” Shomes asked, making his way to the computer. He glanced over his
shoulder at Buttercup and, finding her sufficiently distracted, signed into the system with the
password Perez had sent him. Hundreds upon hundreds of files spilled out onto the numerous
screens. The detective couldn’t help but whistle in amazement.
“Here!” Buttercup pulled apart the compartment hidden in the duranium. Freezing air
escaped the space below, a large capsule rising out of the floor. She rested her hand on the
glass, pulling it away almost immediately. She’d only felt temperatures this cold twice
before. The Professor’s bracelet and…”Blossom?”
The capsule was still mostly intact, with metal tubes and wires dangling within. It clearly
hadn’t been cleaned, as there were still bloodstains on the sides and a large, red stain at the
bottom. Mixed with the red were streaks of orange that pooled together at the bottom. Unlike
the blood, the Antidote X hadn’t dried.
Though she was still aware of Shomes’ presence, Buttercup’s eyes darted between the red
stains and the metal wiring, before finally resting on the large metal tube. The edge of the
tube was stained so red it looked like paint.
“This was…this is where he had her…” She whispered. Her eyes screwed shut, her fists
trembling with white-hot fury. Even if she believed that Mojo was being controlled, this was
proof that he had hurt her. This was where he strung her up like some kind of puppet and
sucked the Chemical X—her life—out of her to fuel his machine. This was where he hurt her
sister.
Her sister.
Her. Sister.
HER SISTER!
Buttercup screamed. Her eyes snapped open, the world flashing red for an instant as her fist
crashed into the tube. Panting, sparks flashing in front of her eyes, Buttercup shook her head.
The capsule, and everything around it, had been reduced to dust. The wall of the observatory
in front of her was gone, ripped part without a hint of debris left behind. Peering further, she
could see that the clouds overhead were parted.
“Detective, I’m sorry, I just…”
“Pl-please, please, ar-aren’t you one, wuh, one of the good guys?”
“And you’re one of the bad guys,”
Buttercup snapped out of her daze and hurried over to Shomes. There, on the screen, was her
sister, covered in blood, standing over someone. Her voice…it was so similar to Blossom’s,
but…no that wasn’t her. That wasn’t her sister.
“Th-that’s not…” she tried to explain to the detective. She tried to explain that it was Aku,
that it was someone else. She tried to say anything, but as she watched the imposter wearing
Blossom’s skin smash the fallen man into paste, she couldn’t find the words.
The video stopped abruptly, and a progres bar that read “Deletion in Progress. This file is
being deleted, erased, removed. It will no longer be available, which is to say that it will be
gone upon the completion of this bar.” popped up on the screen. Buttercup turned to look at
the detective. His expression was unreadable as he continued to go through the footage,
deleting one after another.
“What are you-”
“It’s so strange, I thought we might find something.” Shomes sighed and turned to her with a
shrug, “Guess even Mojo Jojo can get a computer virus. Sure would have liked to know what
was on here before it all got wiped.” He laughed and plucked a thumb drive from the console,
“Looks like all of the data after Valentine’s Day got wiped. Guess we’ll have to make due
with what we’ve got.”
Buttercup fumbled, looking for the words to say. In the end, all that came out was, “Why?”
Shomes’ expression softened. He walked past Buttercup, pausing to look through the hole
she’d punched in the wall.
“There’s only three things I believe in: the truth, the Townsville Shooting Stars, and the
Powerpuff Girls.” He looked back at her with a sad, but sincere smile, “And, if it comes
down to just one, I’ll bet on you girls every single time. C’mon, let’s keep looking for
Blossom.”
“I’m really glad that you’re okay.” Bubbles giggled, nodding her head along with the
chirping, “Yeah, I know. There’s been so much going on lately. But, you’re right, I should
have visited sooner.”
Resting against a tree stump, listening to the river babble and the wind whistle through the
leaves, Bubbles sat with a brown squirrel with bright orange eyes on her lap. The girls’
friend, Bullet the Powerpuff Squirrel, was happy to see her friend again. Cuddling in her
arms, she chirped on and on, telling Bubbles about all of her recent adventures.
The Powerpuff girl giggled and chirped back, letting herself get lost in the moment. As the
conversation died down and her thoughts began to wander, she wound up back in the place
she’d been trying to ignore. With a heavy sigh, she let her hands drop to her sides.
Bullet chirped in confusion, concerned for her.
“I’m so worried, Bullet…Blossom has been gone since Saturday and all we know is that…
she’s probably with the monster that came through here.” She nodded when Bullet chirped in
disbelief, “I know, but we tried. We tried so hard, but he was just too strong. We couldn’t beat
him.”
Bubbles began to pet Bullet, who laid down and tried to not interrupt.
“She took that so hard…at the time, I didn’t think about it because I just thought, oh well!
We’ll get him next time! The Powerpuff Girls never lose, you know?”
Bullet chirped in agreement.
“He’s been trying to take control of her, probably since the very first fight. And I just…I just
didn’t do anything. I should have done so much more, Bullet. I should have stopped her from
leaving. I should have…I should have said something to make her believe that it would be
okay.” Bubbles hugged Bullet, whimpering when the tiny squirrel returned the embrace, “I’ve
been such a bad sister.”
Bullet shook her head, chirping words of encouragement in her ear.
“I’d do anything to bring her back, Bullet. Even if I have to fight Aku all by myself. I
promised her…” Bubbles sniffled and wiped her eyes, “I promised I’d never let anyone take
her away from me…I have to keep that promise.”
Bullet chirped and kissed Bubbles where her nose would be.
“Thanks Bullet, I missed talking to you. Can you ask around? If anyone’s seen anything or
heard anything? No matter how tiny, just promise you’ll tell me, okay?” Bubbles smiled as
Bullet nodded. Giving the squirrel one last hug, she wiped her eyes and climbed to her feet.
Bullet chirped one last time, before heading back into the forest.
“I hope you’re right…” Bubbles whispered. In a streak of blue, she took off into the sky and
back into Townsville as the sun began to set.
A tired radio was playing some tired song. It was scratchy and a bit sharp, but to the two of
them, it was perfect.
For Aku, it was an entirely new experience. The warmth of her body, her fingers laced
through his, her head on his shoulder. As they softly swayed back and forth to the rhythm of
the tired song, his eyes drifted shut. There was no hate, no disgust, no anger. There was no
past and no future. No, there was nothing but her, here and now, in his arms. She was scared,
so he was too. She was unsure, so he was too. But, she was happy…she was happy and so,
however briefly it may last, while she was happy in his arms, he was too.
For Blossom, it was a reprieve from the cacophony her head had become. Inside, she was on
fire, but in his arms, it was bearable. When the lightning beneath her skin threatened to
explode, it passed through him when they touched, letting her relax. There was no siren, no
red, no bitter voice in the back of her mind. There were no responsibilities, no worries, and
no pain. This close, he was all she could feel. His emotions were simple, but honest. He was
scared, but so was she. He was unsure, but so was she. And, he was happy. So, however
briefly it may last, while he was happy in her arms, so was she.
The song came to an end, replaced by a frantic used car sales pitch. While the moment had
passed, they clung to each other, desperate to make it last just a little bit longer.
“I swear, you younguns are just about the sweetest thing,” Ms. Deville commented quietly,
tending to their table while trying to stay out of their way. She glanced up to find the two
looking at her wearing matching shades of pink on their faces. She laughed and shook her
head, “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”
Blossom shook her head, “No, Ms. Deville, it wasn’t you…” she turned to the radio and
glared, “I think I’d rather blame Mr. Elder…”
Aku snatched the last piece of cheese bread and took a noisy bite.
“I must agree. Why are these infuriating interruptions so common? Is this device not meant
for music?” He asked, pointing an accusatory finger at the radio.
Blossom crossed her arms, wearing a pout from which Aku couldn’t look away.
“Sometimes I think advertising is more important than the music…” She turned to Ms.
Deville as she puttered about the restaurant, “Oh, would you like some help? I’m sorry we
kept you open late again.”
Ms. Deville waved away her request.
“No, dear, it’s fine.” She sighed, throwing down her rag and looking at the pair, “You know,
it’s been so long since anyone danced in this old place.” She went around the counter, fishing
for something underneath, “In fact, I think the last time was right before my daughter left for
college.”
Coming back around the counter, she held out a picture frame. It was an old photo, with a
much younger Odessia, along with a lanky man with a long face, and a beautiful young
woman. She had strawberry blonde hair, bright green eyes and freckles. She and Odessia
were laughing, while the lanky man looked like he was trying not to smile.
“The sourpuss is my husband, Rutherford, rest his soul. This here is our pride and joy, our
little Irina. She may not have been ours by blood, but God knows we loved that girl with all
our heart and soul. She was fourteen when we found her; said she ran away. Well, she was
sweet as could be and we weren’t much for questions, so we invited her into our home.” Ms.
Deville sighed, dabbing the corners of her eyes, “I miss her. Haven’t seen her since she left
home, but she still writes. She’s a good girl, that one.”
Blossom stared at the photo, swallowing the lump in her throat. She quickly looked away,
biting her lip.
“She really is beautiful,” she finally said.
“Thank you dear.” Ms. Deville sniffed and wiped her eyes, “Well, I better get back to
cleaning up. You two are welcome to stay if you’d like.”
“No, um…I think we’ll go. Thank you again, ma’am,” Blossom tugged on Aku’s hand,
leading him to the door. He paused at the register to empty his wallet of all its cash before
following her.
“Take care, Madame Devil! It has been a truly wonderful evening!”
“Blossom! Please, slow down! There’s no need to rush!” Aku called after her. Finally
catching up to her, he knelt down next to her, “Blossom, speak to me. What is-”
When she lifted her head, he could see the flecks of red in her eyes. She was breathing
heavily, her body shaking. Reaching out further, he was bombarded with a kaleidoscope of
emotion.
“Aku, I can’t…I don’t think I can…grr…” Growling, she grabbed her head. A tremor ran
through her fingers, spreading through the rest of her body.
“Ah! Of course, you’ve been out of your natural form for the entire day. You are simply tired.
It will be alright, let us return to the pit and you can return to your true self.” It was simple. It
was her first time shapeshifting, of course she would be tired by the end of the day. He
reached for her hand, but to his surprise, she pulled away.
“No! No I can’t…I can’t go back, not yet…” Blossom dug her claws deeper into her skin.
She continued to clutch and scratch, even when she began to draw blood. “If I go back…if I
go back she’s going to…”
“Who?” Aku asked. Deep down, he knew the answer, but after spending so much time with
her, he had almost learned to hope. What little he had gathered shattered when she snapped at
him.
“The other Blossom! I can feel her…I’ve felt her all day.” Blossom clenched her eyes shut. “I
don’t know how long I can keep her out, Aku. I’m so…I’m so scared, I don’t know what to
do.”
Aku slid to sit on the ground. He patted the space next to him. Without hesitation, she slid
into place beside him, and then into his waiting arms.
“It is this place…as your connection to Aku has grown, so too has your sensitivity to the
depravities of this world.” Hugging her tighter, he said the words he’d been refusing to say,
“Perhaps…this other Blossom is not something to fear. She is what I am. She is our natural
state. Look around you. This world reeks of anger, deceit, greed, and fear. Even now, ages
past the era of my birth, it is unmistakable. Nothing has changed.”
Blossom whimpered, “The things she wants to do…I don’t…I don’t want that. I don’t want
to hurt anyone. I don’t want to, Aku, please…” Clinging to him with all her might, she
reached out to him, searching for something that would chase the doubt away. Instead, she
found solemn certainty. Instead, she found the same fury that burned inside her chest.
“They will never change. Life is selfish. It wants the world, yet offers nothing in return.”
“That’s not true!” Blossom finally pulled away from him, untangling from his arms and
mind. She buried her face in her hands, her claws digging into her face again, “That’s not
true! They can be better! They can change, they just…they just need someone to show them
how! They just need a hero to believe in!”
Before Aku could reply, the two were interrupted by a scream from across the street. A
woman in an expensive jacket was fighting with someone glad in black. The attacker, fed up
with her resistance, pulled a gun and aimed it between her eyes.
In an instant, a blur of black and pink smashed into the attacker. Throwing his unconscious
body to the ground, Blossom knelt down and picked up the woman’s purse.
“Don’t worry, you’re safe now. Here!” Blossom beamed as she held it out to the victim. Her
smile slowly faded as the woman jerked it from her hands, still screaming.
“What did you do to him!? You…you monster! Someone! Help me!” Spotting Aku
approaching, the woman screamed and hurried away, taking off down the sidewalk.
Blossom stared forward, unblinking, unmoving. The man’s blood dripped from her claws. It
felt so cool and refreshing against her searing hot skin. As she began to bring her fingers to
her lips, she pushed her hand away.
Aku watched her with a sincere look of sadness. He reached out, gently petting her hair.
“Blossom…if they cannot believe in you…they will never believe in anything.” He sighed,
looking down at the mangled body of the attacker. His sorrow disappeared in the flames of
his hatred, “This is the fate they all deserve. A brutal end, banished to the silence of death.
They brought evil to this world. They deserve our wrath. They deserve Aku.”
‘Deserve…they…they deserve…’ Blossom’s thoughts, which had fallen silent, began to cry
out. Red spilled into sight everywhere she looked. “They deserve Aku?”
She saw the corpses of the vandals.

No! That’s not enough…
“No…No, no, no, no…”
She saw the remains of the mobsters.
Every last one of them
“No, I…I can’t, Aku, I need…I need to…”
She was covered in the blood of the muggers.
They All Deserve
“I need to leave…I, I need to…I need to leave!”
SO MUCH WORSE
Throwing her head back, fingers ripping her skin apart as her body became unstable,
Blossom screamed with tears spilling down her cheeks. The pavement beneath her exploded
and in a fleeting pink flash, she was gone, vanishing into the heavens.
“Blossom!” Aku’s disguise melted away. Like a dark comet chasing a shooting star, he, too,
disappeared into the sky.
In the wee hours of the early morning, Michiko sat by the family shrine, an Irish coffee in
hand. Ashina had turned in a few hours ago, but she couldn’t fall asleep. The storm that had
been ravaging the mountain had passed, but that was nearly two days ago. Something had
stirred, and she couldn’t rest until she had the answer.
She sat up, spotting a silhouette shuffling down the path. Throwing her coffee down, she
rushed forward to greet him.
“Joichi-san!” Michiko called. She smiled when he raised a hand in greeting.
“O…Ohayo…” was all he managed to say before his legs gave out. Silently, he was thankful
for Michiko catching him and helping him safely to the ground.
She wanted to give him time to rest, but the burning question leapt from her lips before she
could reconsider it, “Did…you make it?” Her eyes lit up, her smile growing when he replied
with a sleepy nod.
“Yessiree…I’ll tell,” he paused to yawn, “Tell you all about it in the morning…”
Michiko helped him to his feet, bearing most of his weight as she led him to the bench and
laid him down. She couldn’t stop smiling, even as tears fell down her cheeks.
“Oyasuminasai, Professor.”
Deep Enough to Dive
Chapter Summary
Facing a new morning after resting from his journey, the Professor confronts the truth
behind the sword and the role he has to play. In Townsville, the search for Blossom
reaches a dead end that leaves her sisters devastated. Meanwhile, Perez and Shomes
uncover a clue behind the mysterious "Doomsday." Adrift in the cold void of space, Aku
and Blossom flee from the encroaching darkness threatening to consume her.
Morning light poured through the window of the tiny house, gently falling over the
Professor’s slumbering form. As it crept up his sheets and caressed his face, he began to stir.
His eyes fluttered open.
“Hm? How did I get back here?” he yawned, sitting up to take a look around the guest room.
His last memories were of Michiko greeting him near the shrine. Everything after was a
comforting blank space. Holding back another yawn, he stretched his arms high over his
head. A satisfied grunt escaped when his back cracked in just the right way. “I better not keep
them waiting,” he said aloud.
After a quick stop to the restroom to wash his face, he made his way to the dining room. The
warm, inviting scent of freshly brewed coffee washed over him, making his mouth water.
“Ohayo,” he greeted with one last yawn, pouring himself a cup and taking a seat at the table,
“I’m sorry for picking such an inconvenient place to fall asleep,” he chuckled and sipped his
coffee.
“I hope it’s to your liking,” Ashina said with a nod toward his mug, “And, it was no trouble at
all, Joichi-chan. She may not look it, but Michiko-chan is quite strong for her size.”
The Professor turned to his cousin, raising his mug in appreciation.
“I’m sorry to keep causing you so much trouble, Michiko-san.” The Professor paused, unsure
of how to react to the way that she was looking at him. There was an unlit cigarette hanging
from her lips, and an unreadable look in her eyes. He cleared his throat as he took another sip.
That seemed to, finally, break the hold on her.
“What was it like? You said you made it, right?” Michiko asked in a low, but awe-struck
voice.
Ashina turned to the Professor, a small, knowing smile on her lips, waiting for his answer.
Closing his eyes, he took a long deep breath. It really was the best coffee he’d ever had, he
thought, taking another, longer drink. Warmth spread through his body, washing away the
fatigue of the past several days. What fog had been left in his head from the night gave way
to perfect clarity.
“I did,” he finally said, opening his eyes and setting the mug on the table. “You were right,
Michiko-san…the spirit really didn’t pull its punches.”
“What did it show you?”
“Michi-chan!” Ashina said, shaking her head, “The trial of the mountain is deeply personal. It
is not our place to pry into Joichi-chan’s heart.”
The Professor chuckled, “No, no, it’s quite alright, Hiiobaasan. I don’t mind sharing.” Before
he dove into the tale, he slid to his feet and filled his mug once again. Pausing at the counter
to take another long drink, he returned to his seat. There was a hint of shame tugging at his
heartstrings as he debated on where to begin. A simple shake of his head chased those doubts
away.
“You see…it started when I discovered Aku’s remains, what I called the Source…”
It was quiet in space. So quiet that she couldn’t even hear her own thoughts anymore. As she
drifted aimlessly, Blossom gazed into the abyss, refusing to let her mind wander lest the
thoughts that had driven her away return. She wasn’t sure how long or far she’d flown, all
that had mattered was escaping the suffocating cacophony that had wormed its way into her
brain. Her head fell back and her eyelids fluttered shut.
She’d never felt so weightless.
Aku watched her from a distance. Her disguise had faded away, leaving her in her new, true
self once again. The tattered pink dress, still stained red with blood, clung to her small,
powerful body. Her hair surrounded her in auburn waves, in a stunning contrast to her darker
than black skin. He longed to reach out to her, but he couldn’t bring himself to disrupt the
peace that had overtaken her. So, he simply watched, drifting along beside her, wherever their
momentum carried them.
A pair of cosmic castaways, lost in the tide of eternity.
It reminded him of the stillness of death. But, where death had been an all-encompassing
nothing that had robbed him of his very being, this was a comforting silence. The hate and
anger from whence he’d sprung seemed impossibly far away. With her alone as his beacon,
he’d traveled so far that not even the Aku he had been could reach him.
“It’s nice out here, isn’t it?” Her voice broke the silence. She opened her eyes and rolled over
onto her side to gaze into his.
Accepting her unspoken invitation, he swam through the stars to join her. He reached out
without thinking, running his fingers through her fiery locks. He shivered when she reached
out, caressing his cheek.
“It is…so quiet, so…” he trailed off. The tiny smile on his lips matched hers. Another
wordless invitation passed between them. His great arms enveloped her, burying his face in
her hair. His chest thrummed in rhythm with hers. Searching every word he’d ever known,
Aku struggled to find one to describe the emotion echoing between them.
It was frightening in its intensity, but equally irresistible. It hurt, far more than the blade that
had robbed him of life. But, as much as it hurt, he found that he needed it. He yearned for it.
This strange, unspoken emotion was far more powerful than his hate; more powerful than the
samurai’s steel.
“I ran away like this before,” Blossom said, her voice muffled in the safe haven of his arms.
“We all did. We did something terrible and not even the Professor could trust us. So, we ran
far away, into space.” She pressed her face into his shoulder and closed her eyes, waiting for
the tremor of guilt to pass, “It was so quiet. It was the first time I realized just how…loud
everything really was. I didn’t have a plan. For the first time, I wasn’t thinking.”
“What happened?”
“The Professor called out for us, so we went back for him.” Blossom’s arms snaked around
Aku’s neck, their bodies entwining, desperate to become closer still, “I haven’t been able to
stop thinking ever since. Thinking about how to save the day. How to look after my sisters.
How to protect the city; the world. How to be the perfect little girl I knew they needed me to
be…”
She purred and let her eyes close as he continued to gently pet her hair. Her thoughts fell
silent as his essence pulsed in time with hers. She didn’t have to explain; he didn’t have to
understand. Their closeness was all either needed to know.
But…try as she might to cling to his comfort, to lose herself in the stillness, her thoughts
refused to stay quiet. Beneath every beat of her heart, she could feel the darkness creeping
closer. No matter how tight she clung to him, how far she fell into his boundless soul, she
knew she couldn’t run forever. The embers would become a fire again soon. And, the next
time it consumed her, she was certain there would be nothing left of the Blossom she used to
be.
“How can I help you, my Blossom?” Aku asked, his once mighty voice wracked with
uncertainty. He refused to let go when she began to pull away. Holding her at arm’s length, he
searched her eyes for an answer.
Blossom’s unreadable expression slowly changed, replaced by a mischievous smile. She

untangled herself from him. Floating closer, until their faces were nearly touching, she
reached out and lightly prodded his chest.
“Tag, you’re it!” With a giggle, she slipped out of his arms and shot off into the darkness.
“Tag? What is this tag?” Aku called after her.
“You have to catch me!”

Aku’s look of bewilderment lasted for a moment, before a memory flashed in his mind. Not
of his past, but hers. His eyebrows crackled with excitement, his frown becoming a grin.
“So be it, child! Here I come!”
The Utonium household was unusually quiet that morning. A polite knock on the door that
would have normally been greeted with at least one superpowered greeting went unanswered
the first time. On the second, a voice from inside called out, confirming that the door was
unlocked.
Robin stepped inside, pushing the door shut behind her.
“Hi, Ms. Keane! It’s me,” she called, walking into the living room. Her former teacher was
seated on the couch, her broken leg resting on the coffee table beside an intimidating stack of
papers. Valentino was resting on her lap. When Robin entered, he opened one eye to size her
up, but quickly went back to dozing.
“Good morning, Robin,” Ms. Keane replied with a smile before returning to her work, “What
brings you over so early today?”
“I wanted to see how the girls were doing before they went to school.” Robin replied, taking
a seat beside the teacher. She watched her work for a few moments before asking, “Did they
find anything?” The hopeful glimmer in her eyes faded quickly when Ms. Keane shook her
head.
“No, I’m afraid not…” Ms. Keane winced, lying back against the couch cushions. Gripping
her knee, she looked around the room for her medicine.
Robin hopped up, “I’ll get it!” She hurried to the kitchen, returning with Ms. Keane’s pills.
She noticed that her coffee cup was empty and picked it up as she handed over the bottle, “I
can get you more to drink too.”
Ms. Keane sighed with relief.
“That would be wonderful. You can just get me some water.”
“I can get you more coffee!” She called over her shoulder as she hurried into the kitchen.
“Thank you, Robin. Be careful, sweetie!” Ms. Keane winced again, hearing a chair scraping
across the floor. She held her breath. Once Robin was back and safely sat a full—a bit too
full, she thought—cup of coffee on the table, she allowed herself to relax, “Thank you so
much, Robin.”
Robin returned to her seat on the couch. Waiting until the teacher had taken her medicine, she
turned to look at the staircase.
“Are they up yet?” she asked, though her question was answered before she’d even finished
asking when the house suddenly shook, rattling the door to the Professor’s lab. “Was that
Buttercup?”
Ms. Keane nodded, “She was already in the lab before I woke up. I’m not sure how long
she’s been awake.” She gestured to the staircase, “Bubbles is still in bed. Would you mind
checking on her for me?”
“Yes, Ms. Keane.” Robin leaped to her feet, hurrying to the stairs. Taking them two at a time,
she raced to the second floor, only slowing when she reached the door to the girls’ room. It
was cracked open, but even without super-hearing, she could already hear crying inside.
Pulling the door open just enough to slip inside, Robin closed it as gently as she could.
The room was nearly pitch black. Three pastel colored bean bags had been stuffed into each
of the windows, blocking out the morning sun. Even in the dark, Robin could see that the
room was in disarray. The mountain of stuffed animals and dolls were strewn around the
room, as if they’d been thrown. Clothes from the previous day were tossed haphazardly on
the floor, along with most of the pillows. The sheets and blankets were a tangled mess,
wrapped around a single, quivering lump in the center of the bed.
Climbing onto the mattress, Robin crept over to the lump and began to peel back the layers of
blankets. As she did, the crying came to an abrupt halt.
“Hey, Bubbles…” Robin whispered, forcing her way into the Powerpuff girl’s cocoon. She
wasted no time in hugging her. The moment she was in her arms, the blonde began to cry
again.
“We can’t find her, Bobby,” Bubbles sobbed. “Bullet can’t find her. Mr. Shomes and Mr.
Perez can’t find her. I don’t know where she is and I promised her! I promised her I’d bring
her home!”
“I’m sorry, Bubbles…” Robin whispered, rocking her gently, “I don’t…” She didn’t know
what to say, or what she could do to help. Being friends with the most powerful girls in the
world for as long as she had, Robin had felt a certain amount of helplessness on more than
one occasion. She’d seen the girls beaten, bloodied, or with their backs against the wall. And
through it all, all she could do was sit on the sidelines and believe that they would pull
through.
This was different, though. Every other time that she’d been left on the sidelines, the girls had
at least had each other. If one of them stumbled, the other two could catch her. If things were
bleak, Bubbles could be their spark of hope. If things were too tough, Buttercup could be
their strength. And, when things seemed impossible, Blossom could always find the answer.
But…things were impossible now and Blossom wasn’t there to solve the mystery.
She tried to not let her powerlessness affect her. But, as she cradled her sobbing best friend,
feeling tears prickling in her own eyes, it was quickly the only thing she could feel. Closing
her eyes and forcing back her tears, Robin shook her head. No, this was exactly the time
when Bubbles and Buttercup needed her the most. This was the one time that she couldn’t be
powerless.
If the Powerpuff Girls couldn’t save the day, she had to try to save the Powerpuff Girls.
“It’s going to be okay, Bubbles,” Robin assured her. “You’ll find Blossom and you’ll bring
her home. You promised her you’d bring her back, right?”
Bubbles nodded.
“Then, I know that she’ll be okay. And I bet she knows it, too. Blossom believes in you just
as much as I do. She knows that it doesn’t matter how far she runs away, she can count on
you to bring her home.” Robin offered Bubbles a smile when the blonde looked up at her.
Sniffling and wiping her eyes, Bubbles smiled back, hugging Robin again.
“Thanks, Bobby.”
The Danger Grid pulsed red, warnings splayed across every screen. The Danger Level, which
had previously topped out at 11, was ticking up every few minutes. Another alarm sounded
and the words “Danger Level 41” appeared on the screen. The lab shook, knocking what was
left on the Professor’s workbench to the floor.
The simulation struggled to keep up with the swirling green hurricane of destruction just
barely contained within its duranium walls. Buttercup had no regard for her own wellbeing,
blood streaming down her face, lacerations and bruises littering her body. As another monster
appeared, she forced herself to move faster and hit harder. No matter what horrors the
machine spat out at her, she ripped and tore until it was gone.
How far back could she go?
Tearing through a simulation of Jupiter, she crashed into a colossal alien titan. Its mouth was
wide enough to eat the Earth whole. Its hands were powerful enough to shatter the moon with
a simple backhand. With a single bound, it could step from Pluto to Mercury.
It may as well have been standing still as she ripped through it with a thousand punches from
a thousand different angles in an instant. A fresh wound tore through her arm, though it did
nothing to slow her. She fell backward, going back until the titan was whole again, just to
destroy it a hundred more times.
It wasn’t far enough.
She was still too slow.
The Danger Grid howled at her, the simulation changing again. Whatever came next
amounted to little more than splatter on a canvas. A spray of blood and entrails that rewound
and died again to yet another boundless assault. As her cheek began to tear open, Buttercup
plunged backward yet again, returning to Danger Level 38.
It still wasn’t enough.
She had to be faster…that was the only way she could fix her mistake. Five minutes, ten
minutes, fifteen minutes wasn’t enough. It didn’t matter how much it tore her body apart. It
didn’t matter how much it hurt or what effect it had on the world around her.
She had to go back.
She had to find a way back to Saturday.
If she had another chance, then maybe she could convince her to stay.
Townsville Central Police Department was still in shambles, a mess of concrete and steel, full
of construction workers, but little else. Below the surface, though, the records room had been
spared the destruction that had taken the rest of the building. Within, a pair of officers were
pouring over anything and everything they could find between the start of the year and
Valentine’s Day. Sitting at a table, his eyes tired and fingers sore from thumbing through
folders, Officer Perez lifted his head and sighed.
“I don’t even know what we’re looking for, Shomes,” he muttered.
His partner was at the other side of the room, noisily clacking away at the one computer that
still worked. He paused, cursing when the lights above them flickered, then breathed a sigh of
relief and returned to his frantic typing once the power settled.
“Anything, Perez,” Shomes called over his shoulder, “Anything out of the ordinary, that is.”
Perez climbed to his feet, gritting his teeth and leaning on his cane. After steadying himself,
he snatched up the folder he’d finished with and hobbled to the filing cabinets.
“Yeah, yeah, I know, Harry. I know.” The data they’d recovered from Mojo’s lair had proved
less decisive than they’d hoped. Despite the scientist’s obsessive compulsion to overly
catalog his every thought, the block of time he’d asked them to look into was frighteningly
sparse. To the best of their ability, they weren’t able to find any signs of tampering, but that
only served to raise his suspicions even more.
Pulling the next folder from the cabinet, Perez reflected on his last conversation with Mojo.
After Shomes had returned with the data, he’d asked Mojo about their findings. The
supervillain mentioned, more than once, that his machine had refused to let him see the data.
The way he described, in such vivid detail, the way the machine had taken control of his
computer and forced him out, Perez had no reason to believe he was lying.
While Shomes busied himself with trying to decode the missing data, Perez had focused his
attention on the department’s own records. There were, he realized, blank spaces that lined up
with the data he’d been collecting. But, try as he might, he couldn’t find a link in the missing
data. It seemed completely random. Entire paragraphs omitted as if they’d never been
written. High definition photographs that had degraded into blurry messes without warning.
Even the expense reports had barely perceptible differences.
“The hell does this mean…what is the Doomsday?” Perez sighed, returning to his seat. He
groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose after opening the folder, “God dammit, more
expense reports…” Perez shook his head and climbed to his feet, “I’m gonna grab some food,
you want something, Shomes?”
“Grab me a soda, thanks!” Shomes called back without looking up. Launching yet another
unused plan of Mojo’s from January 7th, Shomes’ lips moved as he read the rambling, yet
surprisingly coherent details. He paused, reaching a blank space. Squinting and leaning
closer, he could make out just barely perceptible digital artifacts in a longer stretch of blank
space.
“Here we go…hm?” Shomes looked up, hearing something fall over at the other side of the
room, “Perez? That you?” Peering around the room, he frowned. He was alone. Shaking his
head, he turned back to the monitor, “Just tired, that’s all.”
Plugging in a program from Mojo to try and reconstruct any missing data, Shomes froze,
hearing another sound behind him. His hand slid to the holster on his waist. Climbing to his
feet, he scanned the room more closely.
“Miguel? Anyone there?” Once again, silence greeted him. He sighed, scratching his head,
“Man, getting worked up over nothing. Probably just something upstairs.” Suddenly,
something moved in the corner of his vision. Hand returning to his gun, he slowly turned his
head.
“Catch, Shomes!”
“Ah!” Shomes spun, fumbling to catch the can flying at his head. It bounced from one hand
to the other before he finally managed to get his hands on it. “Shit, Perez. Don’t sneak up on
me like that.” When his partner tossed a bag of chips at him, he caught it easily with his free
hand.
Perez returned to his seat, twisting open a bottle of water and taking a drink.
“I said I was back, partner. Not my fault you aren’t sleeping.”
Shomes dropped into his seat, smothering a yawn.
“That’s fair.” He dug into his bag of chips, cringing after the first bite, “Ugh, these are stale
as hell, man. How often do they restock the vending machines?”
Perez shrugged his shoulders, “Usually when Hitchcock or Scully complains. With
everything that’s happened, it’s probably been a minute.” He bit into the candy bar he’d
purchased for himself and shrugged again, “Most of it’s still good, as long as you aren’t
expecting much.”
Shomes forced himself to eat a few more chips before giving up on the bag. He settled on
sipping his soda and turned to watch the program run.
“You find anything?” Perez asked.
“Maybe. There’s some sign of tampering on this journal entry from the 7th. Got Mojo’s
program running to see if anything comes out. How bout you?”
Perez started to shake his head, but as he turned to the next page in the folder, he found
something unexpected. Plucking the paper free, his eyes lit up.
“Actually, yeah. I think so.” Perez held the sheet out to his partner, “An invoice from
Morebucks Industries got mixed in with the expense reports. Take a look.”
Shomes slid his chair across the room and snatched the page. He wasn’t terribly familiar with
Morebucks’ usual dealings, but he had taken a peek at some of the evidence from Princess’s
plethora of cases.
“This is a shitload of materials. They had to have been building something huge. A new
factory maybe?”
“Who knows, but look at the shipping address.”
Shomes blinked, turning his attention to the line near the top. His eyes had passed over it so
easily, he’d just assumed it was a smudge or some kind of printing error. But, once Perez
pointed it out, the words seemed to come into focus. He furrowed his brow, glancing at Perez.
“Neighborfield? Where is that?”
Perez shook his head, “No clue. I’ve never heard of it before. But, judging by the cost of
shipping, it has to be somewhere close.” He climbed to his feet and shuffled to the cabinets.
He returned with a map, laying it out on the table. The two poured over it, but even with the
pair of them, after almost ten minutes: “Nothing…there’s nowhere called Neighborfield in
the state.”
Shomes looked at the invoice again.
“This zip code has to be just outside of Pokey Oaks county.”
Perez nodded, “I agree, but that zip code is here.” He pointed to a blank spot on the map.
“That…that doesn’t make any sense. If they were shipping to the middle of nowhere, why
make up a city?” The lights above them flickered again, “Shit!” Shomes rolled his chair back
to the computer. Black lines ran across the screen as it threatened to go out. The detective
gave the monitor a few swats. He sighed with relief when the image came back into focus.
He stared, unblinking at the screen.
“Miguel, Mojo’s program managed to find something.” He leaned back and gestured to the
monitor, “There’s a line here that says construction is underway in Neighborfield.”
“Construction? Of what?” Perez looked down at the invoice again. “What the hell was Mojo
building with Princess?”
Before the pair could ponder any further, the lights above finally went out, plunging the room
into darkness. Perez cursed, flipping on his pocket flashlight. Across from him, Shomes did
the same.
“Guess we’re done for the day,” Perez muttered, glancing up at the ceiling. The noise above
had gotten louder, “They’re probably working on this part of the station.”
Shomes jumped to his feet, snatching the thumb drive from Mojo’s lair and dropping it in his
pocket. He left behind the stale bag of chips and walked to the back of the room.
“Hey, we could both use a break. And, on the bright side, we’ve finally got a lead.”
“That we do,” Perez agreed, carefully working his way to the exit, “I’ll see what I can dig up
with Morebucks. I’ve worked on a Princess case in the past, so I know a few of Duke’s
people.” He paused at the exit, “You good to look into this made up city?”
Shomes laughed, popping open an evidence locker.
“Sure thing, I was really into Atlantis back in middle school. Should be a fun little mystery.”
His eyes fell on something at the bottom of the locker and his grin slowly faded. Glancing
over his shoulder to make sure Perez was gone, he leaned down and picked up the toy. The
little purple octopus stared back at him, its hat crooked on its head and its smile vacant and
unsettling. “How’d you get in here?”
“C’mon, Harry! They need us out of here!”
“Y-yeah! I’m coming!” Shomes dropped the doll back in the locker and slammed it shut. As
he made his way up the stairs, the light from above cast a long shadow behind him. Just
before the door closed, his shadow grinned.
The Professor stood in front of the small shrine, staring at the sword resting on the stand.
Behind him, Ashina and Michiko watched, one with quiet understanding and the other with
anxious excitement. He chuckled. Despite her harsh demeanor, Michiko had been enthralled
with his story, hanging on every word as eagerly as any of his girls when he told them a
bedtime story.
“Well, here goes.” His hands were steady as he lifted the sword from its stand. Whereas
before it had felt like the weight of the world before climbing the mountain, now it felt how it
should. Turning to face his audience, he held the sword horizontal in front of him. Gripping
the hilt, he wrapped his fingers around the sheathe one at a time. Then, without any further
fanfare, he pulled the blade free from the sheathe.
“You did it!” Michiko exclaimed, rushing to his side. Her excitement faltered when she
noticed the lack of shine on the blade. “But,” she began, shaking her head, “It looks so dull.
Shouldn’t it be glowing?”
“It would, if I were fit to wield it,” the Professor explained. He gave the sword a few swings.
He lacked the practiced grace of his great-grandmother, but even in spite of his lack of
training, he couldn’t deny that it was satisfying the way it sliced through the air.
Michiko frowned, crossing her arms in disbelief.
“What do you mean, Joichi-san? You climbed the mountain, that means you’re worthy to
wield the sacred sword. Right, Hiiobaasan?”
Ashina stepped forward. When the Professor held the sword out to her, she politely shook her
head and rested her hand on his.
“Joichi-chan is right, Michiko-chan. While his heart and mind are clear, he is not the one who
will wield the sword against the coming darkness.” She sighed, but smiled kindly, “I’m proud
of you, Joichi-chan. It takes a brave man to understand his limits.”
The Professor gave the sword another swing, then carefully returned it to its sheathe.
“You knew, didn’t you?” he asked with a chuckle, “Of course you did. I’m no great warrior. I
was never going to charge into battle like Imagawa-kensei.” He bowed his head, “If it’s no
trouble, I’d like to take the sword back with me.”
Ashina laughed, patting his head.
“Of course, dear. Since you’ve passed the mountain’s trial, you are now the rightful keeper of
the sword. It is yours.”
“Arigatogozaimasu, Hiiobaasan.” The Professor thanked her, bowing further.
Michiko looked back and forth between them. She bit her lip, struggling to find the words to
voice her confusion. The entire point of the Professor’s trip was to become the sword’s new
wielder. If he wasn’t planning to use it to destroy Aku, then what had been the point of his
journey?
“I’m sorry, but, ” Michiko sighed, “I feel so left out. Am I missing something? Joichi-san, if
not you then who is going…to…oh! You mean, the sword is for them?”
The Professor nodded, looking up at the horizon.
“In the hands of a human hero, the sword had the power to vanquish evil itself.” He tightened
his grip on the sword. His voice trembled with pride, “I can’t even begin to imagine what it
might be able to do in the hands of a Powerpuff girl.”
“BAM! POW!” Brick exclaimed between mouthfuls of pizza. “You shoulda seen it, we
brought this whole big ass-”
“Brick,” Ms. Bellum interrupted, “Don’t talk with your mouth full and watch your language.”
The Rowdyruff leader quickly swallowed his mouthful of food. He laughed sheepishly,
scratching his head.
“Sorry about that, Ms. B. Um…so like, we brought this whole, uh…ginormous building
down with just one hit!” Though he tried to hide it, when Ms. Bellum rewarded him with a
smile, he couldn’t stop himself from grinning.
To his left, Butch drained the last of his soda. His eye twitched and his hands flew to his
mouth, smothering a burp. He glanced in Ms. Bellum’s direction and beamed at her nod of
approval.
“Yeah! Mr. Lamonte says we sped things up, like, a hundred times.” He added, continuing
Brick’s story.
“That’s great! Good job, Butch!” Bubbles giggled,
“How many buildings did you guys build today?” Robin asked.
Boomer paused mid-bite. He stroked his chin in a way that was oddly familiar before
replying with a vague, “A whole bunch!”
The group were sitting at one of the larger tables at the girls’ favorite restaurant, Pete’s-a-
Pizza. Across from them, Ms. Bellum and Ms. Keane watched the boys excitedly regale the
girls with their adventures in construction work. The redhead glanced to her side with a
smirk.
“So…is it as romantic as it was the last time you came here?”
Ms. Keane’s cheeks lit up bright pink. She giggled and turned away from her friend’s teasing
smile.
“Sara, not in front of the kids.” Resting her chin on her hand, her eyes drifted to the ball pit.
That night two years ago flashed in her mind causing her to breathe out a wistful sigh, “You
know, it’s funny. The date was actually so incredibly awkward.”
“James Utonium and Cassandra Keane on an awkward date? I would have never guessed,”
Ms. Bellum chuckled, her smile growing along with the heat on her friend’s cheeks, “I’m
sorry, Cassandra, I’ll stop. Thank you for coming, how is your leg healing?”
Ms. Keane turned to look at the kids laughing and chatting up a storm across from them.
Buttercup was, uncharacteristically, the quietest of the group. Still, whenever Brick threw a
playful jab her way, she couldn’t resist firing back with a competitive smirk on her face. They
were the only smiles that she’d seen on the little girl’s face all day and she found herself
grateful for Brick. Even if he was a crass little rascal, it was clear as day how much he
worried about his new friend.
“Thank you for inviting us. The girls really needed this.” She replied with a soft smile. Her
hand drifted to her leg, “Still hurting, but I was able to sleep last night.”
Ms. Bellum stirred her drink with her straw. She considered letting it go, but her curiosity got
the better of her. Lowering her voice, she said:
“Cassandra…about Abigail.” She stopped, sensing the way the teacher tensed up and the way
her smile quickly became forced.
“Not now, Sara,” Ms. Keane murmured. She lowered her head and focused her attention on
her folded hands, “I promise we can talk about it, just…just not right now.”
Ms. Bellum moved a bit closer, draping her arm around the smaller woman’s shoulders. She
gave her a tight squeeze and laid her cheek against her head.
“I understand. I’m sorry.”
Desperate to dig herself out of her thoughts, Ms. Keane caught sight of the boys, listening
mostly politely as Robin told them all about what she’d done at school. A smile crept its way
onto her lips. She leaned into her friend’s embrace.
“You know…I think they’ve really taken to you.” She pointed out.
Ms. Bellum looked across the table at the boys. She caught Boomer’s eye and he lit up when
she smiled at him. His attention was quickly stolen by Brick poking him in the shoulder and
asking him to tell the girls about a trick he’d done with a wrecking ball. It wasn’t until she
felt Ms. Keane touch her hand that she realized she hadn’t stopped smiling. She chuckled,
taking a sip of her water to settle the lightness in her chest.
“They’re not so bad,” she finally said in response. “They’re less of a handful than the
Mayor.” She added with a weary sigh.
Ms. Keane giggled. The exchange hadn’t escaped her notice. She’d seen that look a hundred
times on the Professor’s face, and she was certain she’d worn it more times than she could
count.
“I agree. I think they just needed someone who can handle them.”
Straw still in her mouth, Ms. Bellum glanced down at her friend, then back at the kids. In the
back of her mind, she noted that she was still smiling. She also noticed that even though the
lightness in her chest had refused to settle, she wasn’t in a hurry to let it go.
The horizon of a distant star system was lit up by two shooting stars, racing across space so
fast that even the light of the stars stood still in their wake. One, a blazing streak of rose-red
light; the other, a burning trail of darklight. The two twisted and turned, colliding and
bouncing apart just to soar after one another in a dazzling display that could be seen for
lightyears. Passing over a large, grassy planet, the pink star fell, the black star close behind.
Blossom appeared near the surface, spinning to avoid Aku’s grasp. She squealed and laughed,
her form changing into that of a doe, bounding across the plains so quickly it was as if her
hooves barely touched the ground. She leaped over the claws of the lion chasing after her, his
roar of delight in perfect harmony with her giggles. He appeared in front of her, tackling her
to the ground. With a gleeful shriek, a wave of pure joy surged through her body where his
paws touched her.
The two tumbled through the grass, every caress of his claws like heaven against her fur.
Eventually he pinned her to the ground with a triumphant laugh. Lurching forward, he spun
around, becoming a dark-colored bird. With a grin, she jumped to her feet, changing into a
feral cat.
Their race took them across the plains, through the ruins of a forgotten city, and into a dense
forest. Her legs moved soundlessly, bounding through the roots and vines as if she were
water. He was so close, she could nearly snap up his tail feathers in her jaws. Leaping onto a
tree, she sailed across the branches, every step sure, every leap certain. When he came into
view, she plunged from the sky and tackled him to the ground.
His body pressed firm against hers, his feathers tickling her skin and causing her back to arch
with ecstasy. Not ready to give up the chase, she nuzzled his beak before leaping away. As
she flew, she shrunk, disappearing into the brush and emerging as a small orange housecat.
She mewed and purred, keeping low to the ground to hide from him.
Eyes flicking to the side, she caught sight of the wild fur of a great, black direwolf. He
howled, tongue hanging from his mouth as he followed her scent, moving like a shadow. She
sprung from her hiding place, climbing the nearest tree and sticking her tongue out at him.
Aku wasted no time, scaling the tree just as quickly as she had. When he reached the top, she
leaped at him, tackling him from the canopy.
His panting breaths were hot, but it wasn’t an unpleasant heat. No, it stirred up a warmth in
her belly that made her yearn for more. Nipping at his skin with her tiny teeth, she mewled
with joy when he squirmed and barked with laughter beneath her. Just as easily as she’d
overtaken him, he turned on her, his massive body pressing hers into the soft grass. Now she
was the one left breathless and squealing as he nuzzled and nibbled on her tiny body. His
teeth were sharp enough to cleave the earth, but against her skin they were like nubbins
massaging every inch of her.
She felt nearly ready to give in, to let him win just so that it wouldn’t have to end. Her little
body trembled; a similar shiver ran through his. In the briefest moment that he paused, she
slipped out of his clutches. Bopping his nose with her paw, she shot into the air, changing
once more into a shooting star. Behind her, she heard him howl, then felt him hot on her
heels.
Soaring through space once more, this time, they collided almost instantly. Twisting into a
black-rose spiral, they refused to part. His fingers in her hair; her skin against his. The little
touches and playful caresses from before were like nothing compared to the intensity that had
overtaken them.
As they became more entangled in each other’s embrace, they plummeted toward another
planet. She locked eyes with him. His eyes burned with longing. His arms struggled to bring
her even closer. That space between them ceased to exist. His happiness, his longing rushed
through her, mixing with hers and flooding back into him.
Crashing into the warm ocean water below, she felt so hot that she could melt.
“You’re sure you have everything?” Ashina asked, resting one hand on the Professor’s arm,
“It’s an awfully long trip, Joichi-chan, I’d hate for you to get home and realize you left
something behind.”
“Thank you, Hiiobaasan, but I’m sure.” The Professor gestured to the sword in his left hand
and his bag in his right. “And besides,” he chuckled, “if I did forget something, I can have
one of the girls swing by and pick it up.”
Ashina sighed and relaxed her shoulders, nodding.
“Yes, I suppose that is true,” she chuckled softly, “I suppose I should hope that you did leave
something behind in that case.”
Michiko stood behind Ashina, her eyes low. She hadn’t said much on the trip to the airport,
though the Professor got the feeling there were a million things she wanted to say. When she
finally did speak, she gestured to the sword without meeting the Professor’s gaze.
“How do you plan to take the sword on the plane? Security can be rather…diligent.” She
raised her head when the Professor unzipped one of the pockets on his bag. Her eyes widened
as the sword slipped inside effortlessly, without distorting the size of the bag at all.”
“A little invention of mine. I call it the ‘Hammerspace Bag.’ The inside is significantly larger
than the outside would appear. It uses…” The Professor trailed off, hearing an announcement
over the intercom that his flight would soon be boarding. With a sheepish laugh, he shrugged
his shoulders, “Well, I guess I’ll have to save the lecture for another time. I should be going.”
Ashina stepped forward and gave him a tight squeeze. She stepped back, holding him at
arm’s length.
“Good luck, Professor Utonium. I know that you will make us proud.” Taking a step back,
she bowed her head.
The Professor nodded, thanking her again. He began to reach for his bag, but paused when
Michiko approached him. He was surprised when she held out a piece of paper to him.
Taking it, he realized that it was a phone number.
“I’m sorry for how I treated you when you first arrived.” She finally raised her eyes to meet
him, “ Please, promise that you’ll stay in touch…it gets lonely with just the two of us
sometimes.”
“I promise, I will. As soon as we have a chance to get away, I’ll come back and bring the
girls to visit. I know they’ll love getting to spend time with you both.” The Professor bowed
his head and lifted his bag. Another announcement declared that his plane was now boarding.
“Thank you again for everything. I-”
He was cut off by Michiko throwing her arms around him, hugging him so tight it forced
some of the air from his lungs. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.
“You better keep your promise…I’d really love to meet them,” Michiko murmured.
“I will,” he assured her.
Michiko nodded and finally released him. Wiping her eyes, she motioned for him to get
going. As he turned to leave, she lifted her hand in a small, but sincere wave.
“I’ll be back again, soon! Take care of each other!” The Professor disappeared through the
terminal. Now that his mission was complete, his girls were just ten hours away.
As the pair swam through the warm waters of a planet in a distant galaxy, their game had
continued, though it had changed ever so slightly. They were no longer chasing one another.
Their forms changed and shifted every so often, but they were never far apart. No, as his
emotion flooded her senses, she couldn’t bear to be apart from him for even a moment.
Her fingers laced through his, she changed into a dolphin as he became an eel, wrapping
himself around her body. Every lingering touch, every press of his skin against hers was
unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Though they were far too deep for any light to reach,
she could see him clear as if they were standing in the sun. In fact, as she changed again,
becoming a mermaid, nuzzling his neck as he became a cecaelia, he had become the only
thing she could see.
His tentacles wrapped around her, light teasing touches mixed with gentle squeezes and tugs
at her tail. Her fingers threaded through his once more. Every breath was a gasp of bubbles.
Even beneath the waves, his eyes burned so hot she could feel them on her skin.
She was thrumming with an emotion that she’d never felt before. It had started in her, but
perhaps, she thought, it could have started in him. But, wherever it had started, it was now
flowing through them both with every breath. Unlike the hatred that had threatened to
consume her back on Earth, this wasn’t a suffocating red, but a throbbing pink that matched,
and in many ways surpassed, its intensity. She slid her arms around his neck; his arms slipped
around her waist.
Her tail twitched, a bubbly giggle escaping her lips. His tentacles were exploring the length
of her tail, while some of them ventured higher, teasing the small of her back. His embrace
tightened, she held him closer in return. The pink crashed into her brain, blinding her when
his fangs brushed against her shoulder. Her lips trembled. Her insides stirred in a way that
was so strange, but so intoxicating.
The red had been all-consuming, devouring her from the inside out. But, this new emotion, it
didn’t just match the intensity, no. As it echoed through her, into him, and back into her, she
knew that there was no contest. The red had been powerful, but the pink was completely,
utterly unstoppable.
Her heart ached and her skin began to hum. She could feel his buzzing against hers. She
could feel his chest throbbing in time with hers. She knew, more than she’d ever known
anything, that he felt the same.
No matter how close they came, it wasn’t enough.
Blossom pulled away, just enough to look into his eyes. His grotesque features, his fangs and
horns. She’d found them charming before, but now…now they were so much more. She
couldn’t tear her eyes away. Her lips felt dry even in the water.
However stupid and wrong it might have been, she knew what she wanted. What she needed.
Even if her brain was lost in a cozy pink fog, her heart was resolute and certain. Her eyelids
fluttered closed and she leaned closer.
“ATTENTION ALIENS!” A loud, scratchy voice echoed all around them, shattering the pink
haze that had enveloped the duo, “YOU’RE TRESPASSING IN WATERS OWNED BY
THE CRITCHELLITE EMPIRE! PUT YOUR HANDS UP OR WE WILL SHOOT!”
Blossom pulled away from Aku, watching in a daze as a massive machine appeared from the
darkness. She flinched as two great spotlights bore down on them. Its silver shell was rough
and uninviting—a testament to function over form—and a thick strip of dark orange material
stretched across the front. Behind the unknown glass-like substance, she could see several
hunched aliens with puckered blue faces glaring daggers at them.
The sides of the ship slid open and in seconds a vast array of weapons were pointed at them.
Behind her, she could feel the heat rising in Aku. She could feel the pink give way to red.
“Don’t, Aku…” she whispered, returning to her true self and slowly lifting her hands. She
glanced back at him, eyes pleading with him to follow her lead.
With a growl, Aku shifted back into his normal form and lifted his arms over his head.
As the tiny, angry aliens poured from the machine to arrest them, Blossom’s once pleasant
thoughts were plunged back into the all-consuming red. Hatred, disgust, and pride radiated
from the machine, and its inhabitants, like toxic waste flooding the ocean water.
She didn’t resist as they bound her wrists behind her back.
But, when they shoved her toward the ship, a surge of electricity raced through her skin,
igniting the embers that she’d very nearly snuffed out in her heart.
Darkest Blight
Chapter Summary
Held captive on an alien world, Aku realizes that something in Blossom has changed. A
darkness even he couldn't fathom has begun to swell. Back in Townsville, as the
Professor returns home, Detective Shomes continues digging into the mystery of
Neighborfield...and finds a truth more terrible than he could have anticipated.
Chritchellites.
That’s what the angry blue creatures called themselves as they stuffed the pair into a holding
cell at the back of their massive submarine. They didn’t bother to hide their disdain as they
poked and prodded them, barking questions without waiting for answers. Blossom could feel
Aku beside her. Though he was stiff as a board, she didn’t need to reach out to him to feel the
indignation and anger bubbling beneath the surface. In fact, she tried with every fiber of her
being to keep from reaching out, lest that same anger slip into her and cause her to lose what
little control she still had over the hatred clawing at her heart.
“Can you speak? Do you understand what I’m saying?” One of the chritchellites asked in a
sneering tone. He turned to the others, prodding Blossom with some kind of trident. Sparks of
plasma crackled at the tip, though she made no indication that she felt it.
“Doubtful,” another said with a laugh, “They’re just mindless aliens. The only thoughts
rattling around in their heads are about food and mating.” He shuddered as that last word
passed his lips, “Disgusting.”
Another, keeping a complex, white-metal rifle trained on the two cringed.
“Keep that to yourself, 462. I just ate. I’d like to keep my lunch down.”
Blossom kept her eyes on her feet. When the first chritchellite poked her again with the
trident, a white-hot rush of electricity raced across her skin, piercing into her chest. Her
vision pulsed with red; her chest was burning.
It would be so easy to smear these little cretins across the ocean floor.
She looked up when Aku lightly brushed against her. That brief contact sent a shiver through
her body. It was almost enough to cool the devil’s fire clouding her vision.
Almost.
“Have you found anything yet, 487?” One of the chritchellites asked another near the front of
the chamber they were being kept in. He was hunched over a console, typing furiously and
scanning a deluge of information passing across the screen.
Blossom looked up and narrowed her eyes. The room around her slowed to a crawl, and
along with it the words on the screen. Though they were a language she’d never before seen,
she could read it clear as day, as if something deep inside her always knew. It was an
exhaustive list of alien species, and the appropriate procedures for containing them. The
corner of her mouth twitched and the pain in her head throbbed.
They intended to sell them to a zoo or freakshow of some sort.
“You will find nothing in your computer, fools.” Aku spoke without any of his usual
arrogance or pride. There was nothing but anger behind his words.
“Oh, so you are smart enough to talk?” The chritchellite with the trident jeered. He stepped
forward and prodded Aku in the side with it, “Not smart enough to escape, though, are you?
We’ve got a smart primitive on our hands.”
Blossom shook her head, feeling the surge of emotion beside her. Though she worried what it
might do to her, she slid closer to Aku, until her arm touched his. His emotion flowed into
her, like thunder echoing in the rain clouds in her mind. But, after a moment of hesitation,
Aku began to relax.
“Ugh,” the chritchellite at the computer grumbled, “I hate to say it, but the primitive is right.
Nothing like either of them in the entire galaxy.” His frustration was quickly replaced with a
grin, “Which means the conservatory will be dying to get their hands on them. We’re going
on the discovery list for sure.”
Aku laughed, “You intend to keep us in captivity? Foolish creatures…you’ve no idea

with whom you’re dealing.” He drew in a deep breath, clenching his teeth to keep from
lashing out at them any further. Seeing Blossom’s mitt, he wrapped his fingers around it and
held it tight.
“Is that so? Ha! We’ve got some oh-so-mighty primitives on our hands,” the chritchellite with
the rifle laughed. He leveled the weapon with Aku’s face, “Go ahead and try, see what
happens.”
“Put the gun down, 516. We won’t get full recognition unless the new specimens are alive.
They’re not going anywhere.” The chritchellite at the computer, 487, said. He stepped away
from the computer and approached the pair, “So, primitives, what do we call you? What are
you doing on Chritchellite Prime? Where’d you even come from?”
“We’re from another galaxy,” Blossom said, finally speaking up. Her thoughts raced,
stumbling through the red haze and pulsing hatred. Her voice caught in her throat. The heat
was becoming too much to bear. She could feel her control slipping. The fire and lightning
was becoming impossible to ignore.
Closing her eyes, she drew in a slow deep breath.

“We’re here to warn you about an approaching storm.” She explained, “One that is going to
wipe out your entire planet.”
“A storm? Really? That’s your big revelation?” The chritchellite laughed, “We did away with
storms and natural disasters centuries ago, primitive. Everything that happens on Chritchellite
Prime is by design.”
Blossom looked up, meeting his gaze.
“Then, it would stand to reason that you’re not prepared for a storm, are you?”
“Ha, cute.” 487 gestured toward the chritchellite with the trident, “Keep them entertained
until we get back to Central Command. I’m going to call ahead and request a meeting with
the Discovery Team.”
The other was more than happy to resume poking the pair of them with his plasma trident.
Though it was little more than an annoyance, every prod caused the red to thicken in
Blossom’s head. She tightened her hold on Aku’s hand, but even his affection was starting to
feel faint. Even when she tried to reach out to him, he felt so far away.
Thursday had come and gone in the city of Townsville. It wasn’t until a taxi pulled up to the
Utonium House just after six-thirty that the sleepy city stirred. Climbing out of the back of
the cab, James Utonium retrieved his bag from the trunk, thanked the driver and waited until
she disappeared over the horizon before turning to face his home.
Though it was only a few steps away, his front door had never seemed further. Taking a long,
tired breath, he walked up the driveway, plopped his bag on the porch, and gave the door a
few firm knocks. He held his breath as he waited. When it opened, he breathed out his
greeting.
“Hey…I’m home,” the Professor said, just moments before twin streaks of blue and green
tackled him to the ground.
“Professor!”
“You’re home! You’re home! You’re home!”
Wrapping his arms around them and hugging his daughters with all his might, the Professor
kissed their heads and made no effort to get up.
“I’m home, girls. I missed you so much.” Looking up, he saw Ms. Keane standing at the
door, leaning on her crutches with a smile on her face.
“Welcome home, Professor.”
A thousand thoughts raced through the Professor’s mind, his eyes moving from her face to
her leg, and then down to the two girls in his arms. When he found his voice, he couldn’t help
but ask:
“Where is Blossom?”
“So…” The family had eventually made their way into the house. They were all seated on the
couch, Bubbles and Buttercup on the Professor’s lap, while Ms. Keane sat beside him, her leg
propped up on the coffee table.
“Blossom has gone missing…and we think Aku has something to do with it?” He frowned
when Bubbles and Buttercup’s smiles, which had been so bright just moments ago, vanished.
They were replaced by matching looks of grief and sorrow, looks he’d never seen either wear
before.
“He used the monsters and the boys to try to take control of her,” Bubbles explained. “She…
because of him she was…”
“It wasn’t her!” Buttercup insisted, cutting Bubbles off, “It was the other Blossom, not our
Blossom! It was all Aku’s fault, it has to be!”
Bubbles nodded, “Uh huh. The other Blossom was taking over and making her hurt those
people.”
“And she was afraid that this other Blossom was going to take control for good, so she left to
find some way to stop her…” the Professor finished for her. Lying back into the couch
cushions, he closed his eyes, “She’s gone looking for Aku, then.”
“What makes you think that, James?” Ms. Keane asked. The thought had crossed her mind,
but she’d written it off as unlikely. Blossom was a lot of things, but rash wasn’t one of them.
The Professor rolled his head back and opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling.
“Aku’s essence is like a poison or an infection. Once it takes hold, it won’t stop until it
completely corrupts its host. The sickness that Blossom was showing the day before she
disappeared…it was most likely caused by her attempting to reject his influence. My theory
is that Blossom realized that if she could find and defeat Aku, she might be able to eradicate
his essence before it could take control of her…although…”
Though the theory had been sound in his head, as he spoke it aloud, the wheels in the
Professor’s head began turning in a different direction. The clarity that the mountain had
brought him told him that even if it was the simplest explanation, something about it was
wrong.
“No…no that’s not it.” The Professor sat up. Resting his chin on his folded hands, his mind
raced as he chased an unlikely, but possible alternative explanation, “No, Aku’s essence can’t
corrupt you, girls. That’s not what it was.”
“What do you mean, Professor?” Bubbles asked.
“Aku’s essence, the Source, was one of the key ingredients of Chemical X. Along with the
dust from the sword, it’s a key component that makes up your very being. Aku’s essence
can’t corrupt you because it is already part of you.” The Professor leaned forward, unzipping
his bag and digging his pipe free from the hammerspace. Without a hint of regret or
hesitation, he packed his pipe, lit it, and puffed a few times.
“But, Blossom said that was his plan. He had Fuzzy and Princess and the Rowdyruffs mess
with Blossom so that he could try to take over her.” Buttercup pointed out.
The Professor shook his head.
“That may have been what Aku intended, but it wouldn’t work. Otherwise, it would have
affected the two of you as well. Even if he wasn’t focused on corrupting you, just being
around his power should have had an impact on you if it could have an impact at all.” The
Professor blew a ring of smoke into the air. Staring at the ring, his thoughts drifted back to
the morning before he left.
What was it that Blossom had said?
“You brought him back…” The Professor murmured. He thought back to that day, trying to
recall every little detail. Blossom had been in Aku’s grasp. He was biting her cheek. He’d
singled her out, even with her sisters just as helpless. His eyes widened. The damage the girls
had sustained was immense, but in Bubbles and Buttercup’s case, it had mostly been surface
damage. Blossom had been bleeding.
“When was Blossom’s arm cut?” he asked, snapping out of his thoughts and looking between
Bubbles and Buttercup, “The day that Aku came back, Blossom had a large cut on her arm.
When did that happen?”
Bubbles brought her mitt to her mouth, eyebrows furrowed.
“Um, she got cut up by Mojo’s robot, right, Buttercup?”
“Yeah,” Buttercup nodded, “Yeah, it was a duranium blade. That happened way before Aku
showed up.”
The missing links came together and the Professor found his thoughts quickly barreling down
a track he hadn’t imagined possible. It wasn’t just the power from Blossom and Bubbles’
Sonic Screwdriver that had resurrected Aku. If Aku had been near the fight, or at least when
he was inside the Robo Jojo, then…when the girls passed through him, that was what had
brought him back.
“Professor? Pro-James! James, you need to breathe!” Ms. Keane’s voice pierced the static
that had overtaken the Professor’s thoughts.
With a gasp, his shoulders shook as he caught his breath.
“No, that can’t be it…but, it’s the only thing that makes sense. Oh, my baby.” The Professor’s
pipe trembled in his lips. Biting down, he took a long drag, breathing the smoke out through
his nose. “It wasn’t you girls who brought him back…it was Blossom.”
“Blossom…brought Aku back?”

“Not intentionally…but he must have been nearby when Mojo’s robot cut her arm. Her blood
had Chemical X in it. Its natural healing properties would have been amplified by his. Just
like Aku is a part of you…Blossom must be a part of him.”
Ms. Keane squeezed the Professor’s shoulder, “James, what are you saying?”
“I can’t explain it, not completely, but…somehow the two of them are connected. That’s how
he was able to exert his influence over her.” The Professor took another long drag from his
pipe, “She must have realized it. Of course…of course she realized. Once it got to the point
that she couldn’t fight it any longer, she sought him out directly. That’s where she is…she’s
with Aku.”
“But, then we have to find her, now!” Buttercup insisted, flying into the air in front of the
Professor, “If he’s trying to take control of her and she’s with him, who knows what he’s
done to her! We have to do something!”
“She wouldn’t have done something so reckless, would she? The girls weren’t able to defeat
Aku together, surely she wouldn’t think that she could beat him by herself?” Ms. Keane
asked.
“It’s possible. If she found a way to access the part of your power that comes from the
righteous energy of the sword, she could, in theory, destroy Aku. But, if she was sick…I
just…don’t know…” the Professor trailed off, yawning and falling back into the sofa
cushions.
“Are you okay, Professor?” Bubbles asked, tugging on his sleeve. When he patted her head,
she responded with a tiny, forced smile.
“Just tired…I’ve only slept once in the last week.” As if proving his point, it felt as if all of
his energy drained from him, leaving him limp on the couch. His eyes barely open, the
Professor forced himself to sit up, “Let me rest for just a few hours. Once I can think
straight…we’ll figure this out.”
“But, we can’t just leave her alone with him!” Buttercup gestured wildly at the door. “I can’t
just do nothing! I have to help her! I didn’t stop her from leaving; I have to bring her home!”
As she spoke, every word was more frantic, more desperate. By the end, she was sparking
with green energy, her body phasing in and out of visibility.
She settled when Bubbles floated up to her level, taking her mitts in hers.
“Blossom will be alright, Buttercup.” She pressed her mitt against Buttercup’s lips when she
started to argue, “I know how you feel. I promise I know…but, we can’t do anything except
believe in her right now. I…I promise we’ll bring her home.”
“Just…a few hours…that’s…all…” the Professor trailed off, slumping to the side, fast asleep.
Bubbles moved closer, ready to carry him to his bed, but stopped when Ms. Keane shook her
head.
“Just leave him. You girls need to get some rest, too. As soon as he’s awake, we’ll figure out
what to do next. Alright?”
“Yes, Ms. Keane,” Bubbles said, taking Buttercup’s hand. She gave it a gentle tug, floating
toward their room, “C’mon, Buttercup.”
Though she wanted to argue, Buttercup’s rebuttal was smothered by a yawn. With a small,
bitter nod, she squeezed Bubbles’ mitt.
“Wake us up the second the Professor gets up, okay?” When Ms. Keane nodded, she relented,
following Bubbles to the second floor. Even after settling into bed, not bothering to change
into her pajamas, all of her thoughts were racing in a single direction.
‘I’m gonna save you…I promise, Red.’
Locked away in an off-silver cell, with perfectly even walls, behind a transparent, lightly
humming orange glass barrier, Blossom sat in Aku’s lap as they waited for the chritchellites
to decide what to do with them. The research group that had captured them couldn’t stop
gushing about the acclaim they would receive for discovering extragalactic lifeforms, and had
requested a meeting with the Prime Collector. They hadn’t bothered to answer Aku’s
questions, instead insisting that the “primitives” wouldn’t understand.
“These creatures think highly of themselves.” Aku mused. He leaned closer to Blossom,
shrinking until he could rest his head against hers. They were still bound by the creatures’
flimsy shackles, though for what Aku couldn’t decide. Any indication he made to try to break
free was met with a curt shake of his companion’s head.
He tried reaching out, but found that he couldn’t connect with her as he could before. The
feeling was there, but it was fuzzy and indistinct. She was keeping him out, but for what he
couldn’t understand.
“What troubles you, my Blossom? You’ve not spoken since we arrived in this accursed
place.” Aku slid his hand from the shackles and waved it at the lights, “These lights are
unpleasant, would it ease your mind if Aku did away with them?”
He frowned when she responded with yet another tiny shake of her head. Sighing, he slipped
his hand back into the shackles and went back to waiting. Closing his eyes, he tried harder to
reach her, beckoning her to allow him in.
“Do not shut me out, Blossom…please, speak to Aku.” He probed once more, but this
time, felt something.
A pulse of something wicked, something violent. He opened his eyes and, for a brief instant,
the room was pitched in a red thicker than blood. It cleared as quickly as it had passed, but
only once he pulled his mind away from hers. Fumbling with his words, he tried to speak, but
whatever he had planned was lost when the door slid open and a group of chritchellites—
were they the same or different? Aku couldn’t tell—entered the room.
“Up and at it, primitives. The Prime Collector is prepared to look you over.” The chritchellite
in the front stepped forward, lowering the barrier with a series of taps on the keypad. Behind
him, twelve others stood at the ready with plasma tridents and rifles. “You might as well say
your goodbyes, too. Once you’re moved to the Collection, you’ll be kept separate. We can’t
have you mucking up the place with your vile little mating rituals.”
Aku was prepared to argue, but stopped when Blossom slid to her feet. Something was
different, he realized. The throbbing heat and electric hatred from before was palpable,
practically radiating from her in waves. When she opened her eyes, they were a dark shade of
blood-rose.
“Take us to the person in charge of your people.” When she spoke, there was a tinge of
amusement to her tone, as if she were a parent addressing a fussing child. “Not the head of
your zoo, the leader of the chritchellite Empire.”
The chritchellites traded a look before bursting into mean-spirited laughter. The one in front
stepped forward, jabbing his finger into her chest.
Aku felt his own anger rising and an urge to lunge at the little alien and rip him apart. He
paused when Blossom looked down at the creature’s finger, then slowly raised her head to
look him in the eye.
“No one sees the Supreme Leader on request, primitive. He’s far too busy to deal with some
intergalactic bumpkin like you. Now, get moving to the Prime Collector.” When he tugged on
her arm, she refused to move.
Blossom tilted her head. There was a small, joyless smile on her lips.
“This isn’t a request. We have traveled across countless galaxies to tell your people about a
coming storm. Take me,” Blossom took a step forward, leaning forward until the chritchellite
was forced to stumble back, “To your leader.”
The creatures traded another look. Those with weapons moved forward, their plasma tridents
sparking. They hesitated when the little girl showed no sign of fear. When she pulled her
hands apart, tearing through her shackles as if they were Styrofoam, a tremor of unease ran
through the group.
Blossom tossed the restraints to the ground. Her hands began to change, claws growing from
her mitts. She narrowed her eyes, flames rising from her irises.
“I won’t ask again. Take us to him, or I will find him myself.”
Aku watched as she continued to change, horns that almost resembled her bow rising from
her head. Six more, similar to his but sharper, rose from the sides of her head. Taking her cue,
he pulled off his shackles and tossed them aside. Turning to the aliens he allowed himself a
sinister smile, folding his hands behind his back and growing until his horns scraped the
ceiling.
“You heard her…let us be on our way, miserable little creatures.”

His chest trembled with excitement as the disgust and pride that had permeated every pore of
the aliens was replaced with something stronger. Drawing in a deep breath, he reveled in their
fear.
One of the chritchellites aimed his rifle at Blossom, his finger starting to squeeze the trigger.
Before he could so much as finish taking a step forward, she was in front of him, her
forehead pressed up against the barrel of his gun. Her blood stained, tattered outfit melted
away, replaced by a crimson dress that flowed around her like fire in an unseen wind. The
rose-red flames in her eyes were blazing, mirroring the intensity of the sharp toothed grin on
her face.
“Try it,” she taunted, “Pull the trigger and see what happens.”
The chritchellite swallowed the growing lump in his throat. Looking to his allies for support,
he only found matching expressions of disbelief and terror. His hands shaking, he lowered his
gun and took a step back.
Blossom chuckled, running her claws through her hair, pushing it away from her face.
“That’s what I thought. Now,” she turned to the first chritchellite and lowered her voice,
“Take me to your leader.”
It was sometime after three in the morning when the Professor woke himself with a snore.
Sitting up, he peered around the room in a daze, trying to figure out where he was.
“Hey, sleepy head. Do you feel better?”
Turning toward the friendly, familiar voice, the Professor laughed and stretched his neck.
“I do. Still tired, but I don’t feel like I’m dying.” He chuckled, shuffling until he was sitting
beside Ms Keane. When she offered him her blanket, he gratefully slid beneath. A shiver ran
up his spine when she draped her leg across his lap. “How, um, how is your leg doing? Do
you need anything?” His throat grew dry as he tried to figure out what to do with his hands.
“It’s starting to itch,” Ms. Keane replied with a weary sigh, “I really can’t wait to get this cast
off. I don’t like feeling so trapped.”
“I can imagine,” the Professor replied, resting his hands on the top of the blanket. “How
did…ahem, how did it happen?”
He regretted asking immediately as a pained look fell over her face.
“I…was somewhere I shouldn’t have been when Mojo was attacking Townsville on Sunday.”
Ms. Keane gazed off to some distant corner of the room. Her mouth opened and closed
several times before she finally spoke up again, “James, did…did you know that…Sedusa
was my sister?”
The Professor’s breath caught in his chest. Unconsciously, he gripped Ms. Keane’s leg to
steady his nerves. He wished he could claim ignorance, but the mountain’s gift of clarity was
equal parts a blessing and a curse. He didn’t have it in him to lie.
“I…did.”
“For how long? Was it…was it when you were dating?”
“What? Dating? O-oh! You mean…right.” The Professor licked his lips, loosening his hold
on her. Shaking his head, he clarified, “No, not while we were dating. When she was Ima, I
had no clue. But…when the girls unmasked her. I recognized her. I think I convinced myself
I was wrong, but the thought definitely crossed my mind.”
Ms. Keane shifted her weight. She turned away from the corner of the room to look at him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I wanted to believe I was wrong,” he replied without hesitation. “It had been so
long and she was a criminal, so I convinced myself it wasn’t really her.” He glanced up at her,
“When did you find out?”
“Blossom found out,” Ms. Keane answered with a sad smile, “She was visiting Abby during
the nights when…when the other Blossom took control. Abby found her and took care of her.
She was working at the Rite-on-Time Diner. Blossom, she…on Saturday, she had us go there
for breakfast because she knew. She wanted me to find her.”
The dots were starting to connect as the Professor listened to her explanation.
“You were there during the attack?”
Ms. Keane nodded.
“Abby saved me…” Her voice cracked and tears she thought she’d finished shedding began
to roll down her cheeks, “The building collapsed on us and she saved me, even though she…
couldn’t save herself.”
“I’m sorry, Cass.”
Ms. Keane wiped her eyes, choking back more tears.
“The last thing she said to me…she made me promise to n-not let Blossom end up like her.
All she cared about was saving me s-so that I could save her.” Leaning forward, she took
James’ hand in hers, “We have to save her, James. We have to save Blossom.”
Moving closer still, the Professor squeezed her hand.
“We will, Cass. We’ll bring her home. No matter what it takes.” The distance between them
seemed to be growing shorter as he gazed into her eyes. Feelings that he thought he’d never
let himself feel again began flooding back. Her leg slid across his lap, sending electricity up
his spine.
She hadn’t realized just how much she missed him until he’d come back. As Ms. Keane felt
her eyelids growing heavy and her heart pounding in her chest, she realized just how close he
was. She bit her lip; his hand ran up her thigh, turning her breaths into short gasps. He was so
close now, she could smell the tobacco still hanging on his lips.
Her arms were slipping around his shoulders.
His arms were slipping around her waist.
But just before their lips met, they both turned. Instead, brushing their cheeks against one
another, they silently acknowledged that this wasn’t the time. There was too much at stake,
too much left to do. Though neither said anything, they swore that this was a conversation for
another day.
They would have plenty of time to fall in love again when their little girl was home.
On the other side of town, in a small apartment on the edge of the Eastside, Detective Harry
Shomes was pacing restlessly, pouring over documents. His kitchen table—a generous
description. In reality it was a glorified coffee table—was covered in folders and papers.
Every sheet was covered in various shades of red, black, and blue ink. Circles connected by
lines, leading to paragraphs and underlined statements.
Something wasn’t adding up. No matter how deep he dug, the truth refused to present itself.
It wasn’t just frustrating him, it was driving him crazy.
“Where the fuck,” he groaned, throwing a handful of papers over his shoulder, “is
Neighborfield? Why is it so familiar?”
As he got up to dig through another box he’d taken from the station, the lights overhead
flickered. For a moment, it seemed as if a shade of red had fallen over the apartment. But, it
was gone before the detective could notice. With a scream, he threw over the box he’d been
digging through.
“Morebucks was working with Mojo. They were building something in Neighborfield. But,
what?!” Shomes fell back on his bed, a mattress with no sheets or box spring that took up
most of what his landlord called his living room.
He’d subpoenaed files from Morebucks Industries through January of the last year. Duke had
been suspiciously compliant, baffled that the detective wanted to look through what he called
the “slowest month on record.” As he read through files: invoices, packaging lists, employee
pay stubs, contracts, and correspondence, he kept coming up with the same thing.
“Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.” Shomes cursed at the ceiling. As he had countless times in

the past, he began to trace the water stains and cracks in the ceiling. He was a problem solver,
a mystery lover, ever since middle school. Even if he couldn’t explain it to anyone else, he’d
solved a hundred cases that hadn’t even been assigned to him thanks to those stains. He
imagined the faded spots on the ceiling were the evidence and the stains and cracks were the
lines piecing everything together. Zoning out, he could see the way the pieces fit, forming the
truth.
But, since returning from the station, he couldn’t make anything fit. All he saw were caked
on stains that had been there when he moved in, and cracks that would probably kill him in
his sleep when the couple upstairs had a nasty fight and brought the ceiling down on him.
Nothing made sense anymore. Nothing could make sense ever since he laid eyes on that
place.
Neighborfield.
A city that didn’t exist, but that felt nostalgic all the same. It made his brain hurt and his heart
ache. It made him feel sick to his stomach. He wasn’t just overlooking something. He, and
everyone else it seemed, was forgetting something.
Shomes sat up, ignoring the stuffed octopus sitting between the antennas on his busted old tv
set. It had been staring at him since he got home, following him wherever he went. Always
wearing that same condescending, smarmy little smile. He wanted to throw it in the garbage
or chuck it from his window, but he didn’t want to give it the satisfaction.
Tilting his head to the side, by some impossible chance, he spied a book on the shelf that he
hadn’t looked at in years. Resisting the urge to glance at the octopus, he climbed to his feet.
The lights flickered again, his air conditioner kicking off as he made his way over to the
shelf. He was already sweating by the time his fingers touched the spine, running them across
the letters.
Townsville Central High - Class of 1998
His yearbook from his senior year. He couldn’t remember ever looking at it. But, for some
reason, it felt like it was calling him. Sliding it from its place on the shelf, Shomes returned to
his bed and sat down. Opening it, he began to flip through the pages at random. He wasn’t
really looking at the pictures or reading the words. No, as he continued to flip between pages,
it was like something in the pit of his stomach was dragging him along for the ride. Turning
one last page, he settled on a picture.
It was him, decked out in his cheer outfit, with face paint on. He had one hand in the air,
finger raised in a victorious number one. His other arm was around the shoulders of a girl.
She was about his height, with braces and hook-rimmed glasses. She had face paint on too,
but the colors were different from his. Her hands were hidden behind pom-poms, but the
words on her cheer outfit were just barely visible.
Shomes felt his stomach bottom out.
Neighborfield High.
He scanned the page, searching for anything that could explain what he was seeing. There, at
the bottom, was a blurb. Though several words had gone missing, the ones that had been left
behind filled the empty hole in his stomach with lead.
“Love truly knows no boundaries! Townsville High’s Harry Shomes and—High’s—proudly
sport their colors! The lovely couple announced their engagement just before their teams met
to duke it out on the field!”
“What…the…” The yearbook slipped from Shomes’ hands, landing on the wooden floor
with a resounding smack. “No, no, no, no, no! What the…no!” Jumping to his feet, Shomes
dug his hands into his hair, pacing around the room.
Memories buried in fog and static hung just out of reach in the back of his mind. Her name
was still missing, but her face was clear as day.
He knew her. He’d loved her. He asked her to marry him.
And somehow, he’d completely forgotten she ever existed.
“How? How did…what’s going on?!” Shomes spun around, staring at the octopus doll now
sitting on his coffee table, “What are you talking about? What does…”
The doll stared back, its eyes half-lidded, eyebrow craned suggestively.
“No, that is impossible! There is no way I’d just…no! That can’t be right!” Rapping his
knuckles against his head, he racked his brain to try to clear the fog, “What was her name?
What happened to her? What happened…what happened to us?”
The octopus smiled patiently, though there was a hint of glee in its droopy eyes.
Shomes slowly looked at the doll again.
“Do you…do you really mean that?”
The doll simply smiled back.
Shomes nodded, licking his dry lips, “Okay…okay, I’ll look into it. That…anything, I’ll do
anything to figure this out.” Snatching his gun from the table, he hurried out the door,
slamming it shut behind him. Octi watched the door, listening to the sound of footsteps
hurrying down the stairs outside.
The lights overhead flickered and went out, plunging the room into darkness.
The Chritchellite Central Command was a sprawling silver labyrinth of hallways, machinery
and science. The trip from the holding cell to the Supreme Leader’s chambers took over
twenty minutes, even by hovercraft. Along the way, the other chritchellites watched them
warily, whispering and pointing as they went by.
Aku found himself getting lost in their fear and distrust. With every breath, his darkness
grew, filling him with strength. Glancing at Blossom, he couldn’t stop himself from grinning
until it felt like he might burst out laughing.
She was swelling with the darkness, humming in rhythm with him. Though she was still
blocking him out, he could feel the evil seeping through her defenses. It was evident in the
way she held herself, in the small, satisfied smirk on her lips, and in the way her eyes seemed
to scorch everything in their path.
“This is it,” the lead chritchellite said as the hovercraft came to a halt in front of a pair of
double doors. They weren’t as grand as Aku had imagined, though they did have the words
“SUPREME COMMAND” written on them. They were emblematic of the problem he had
with the entire facility. There was no character, no charm, not even intimidation. It was pure
function with no bells or whistles.
It was boring.
As the doors opened to reveal the Supreme Command center, he was pleased to see that there
was at least something to this room. A long stretch of platinum led to an oval-shaped seat at
the far end. A chritchellite, only distinguishable by his orange visor, sat in the seat, glaring at
the two of them as if they were insects.
“Alright, alright, alright, what’s this about? I don’t have time to be entertaining savages, so
let’s get this over with,” the Supreme Leader barked, resting his chin on his hand and
regarding them with undisguised disgust, “Ugh, and don’t let them mate in my office, again.
It will take weeks to get the primitive stench out of the Vitinium.
Without waiting to be introduced, Blossom pushed past their entourage only stopping when
the guards around the Supreme Leader stepped into her path. She glanced down at their
weapons, then turned her attention to the leader and rested her hands on her hips.
“You’re the Supreme Leader of the Chritchellite Empire, I take it?”
The Supreme Leader waved his hand, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, get on with it. I don’t have all day.
I’m the Supreme Leader, make your pleas for mercy and then get back to the conservatory.”
Blossom brought her hand to her chest with a look of feigned surprise.
“Mercy? Is that what you expect when you meet with visitors from other worlds?”
“Visitors, cute. Listen, primitive, we don’t have visitors on Chritchellite Prime. We have
subjects and we have spectacles. You are the latter.”
Blossom laughed and shook her head.
“You really think so much of yourself, don’t you?”
The Supreme Leader pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. Pressing a key on the side
of his chair, a holographic screen appeared to the side. First, it showed a planet roughly the
size of Jupiter.
“Okay, here’s a free history lesson if it will get you out of my office and back into your cages.
This is where we are now, Chritchellite Prime. The center of the galaxy. Notice anything? Of
course not, you’re too stupid to notice. The planet you’re standing on is entirely constructed
by us. Our home planet was a piece of junk, so we built the perfect planet. We control the
oceans, the forests, the plains, the mountains, and the weather,” he emphasized the last word
with his hands, “This little storm you’re here to tell us about isn’t going to happen because
we have complete control of our planet.”
Pressing another key, the image changed, now showing a few of the entire galaxy. There were
thousands of little orange blips spread around the map.
“And this is the Chritchellite Empire. The greatest empire in the universe. We are the most
technologically advanced race in existence. Do you understand that? We built our own
perfect planet. We’ve evolved beyond primitive concepts like commerce, or gender, or
mating,” he shivered, sticking his tongue out, “Ugh, especially mating. So yes, that makes us
better than you. That’s why we’ve subjugated over two trillion primitive lifeforms as part of
our empire. Get it? You’re a small fish in a pond we made. You’re nothing. Now get out of
my office.”
“Nothing…” Blossom mused, tilting her head. “That’s what you think I am?” She laughed
and glanced around the room at the guards, “I think you’ve evolved beyond basic survival
instincts, like fear.”
The Supreme Leader rolled his eyes.
“Give me a break, fear is for savages. Seriously? This is what you’re wasting my time with?
Get them out of here and get back to work.”
One of the guards stepped forward and poked Blossom with his trident. A sound like a
cannon firing echoed through the room. The weapon fell to the ground with a loud,
obnoxiously clang. All that was left of the guard was a blue smear that stretched the full
length of the room, ending at a dent in the wall.
Blossom looked down at her hand, watching the blue blood drip from her claws.
“Look at that…you haven’t evolved beyond bleeding, have you?” Laughing, she brought her
hand to her mouth and licked the blood from her claws, “You have evolved beyond taste
though. It’s so bland.”
Aku watched as the chritchellites, finally realizing what happened, stepped back. The
Supreme Leader fell back in his chair, pressing a button to bring it several feet away from the
Powerpuff girl. All it had taken was a simple shove to reduce the angry little creature to
atoms. His chest throbbed as their fear filled the room. Drawing in a deep breath, he allowed
himself to laugh.
“A fine display! Now do you see?” Aku spread his arms, growing until he nearly filled the
room, “Your technology is nothing in the face of true power.”
“Wh-what did you do?” The Supreme Leader asked, still trying to process what had
happened.
Blossom shrugged her shoulders, smirking at him.

“He pushed me, so I pushed him back.” She took a step forward.
The guards stood at attention, their tridents transforming into laser cannons nearly as big as
themselves. They revved up, tips sparking as every one of them focused on her.
Aku began to move forward, but paused when Blossom waved him away. Shrinking down to
a more manageable size, Aku felt a twinge of pride and the sting of disappointment. Those
feelings lasted no longer than a thought before he was bombarded with the most exquisite
sensation he’d ever known. Radiating from Blossom, like heat from a star, was pure hatred.
So thick, it felt like it was smothering him. So intense it made the hatred she’d unleashed on
the Morebucks girl feel like a candle in the wind. Drawing in a deep breath, he nearly lost
himself in her wickedness.
“You’re the Supreme Leader, so I would imagine you’re the smartest chritchellite, is that
right?” Blossom asked, crossing one arm over her chest and bringing her fingers to her chin.
“Can I ask you a question then? If you get it right, I’ll spare your race.”
“Sp-spare? Wh-what are you talking about? You’re in no position to-”
“I want you to tell me,” Blossom lowered her voice, the playful edge dulling, replaced by a
venomous anger, “what happens to a raindrop in a storm?”
“A raindrop? What are you talking about? That’s nonsense! You’re in no position to make
demands!” The Supreme Leader gestured to the guards. More were pouring into the room,
standing between them.
Blossom let her hands fall to her sides. Leaning forward, she whispered, “Hit me, then. Hit
me with everything you’ve got.”
“Forget the conservatory! Vaporize this little savage!” the Supreme Leader ordered.
The light coming from the guards’ cannons intensified until it was blinding. Then, in a flurry
of destructive plasma, they unleashed everything they had on her.
Aku watched with a grin as she held out her arms, welcoming the attack. The beams collided
with her perfect body, failing to so much as singe her ink-black skin. More guards joined in,
firing similar cannons, plasma rifles, and other weapons unlike anything Aku had ever seen
before.
When their fury died down, Blossom stood unmoved. Arms still held out, she slowly looked
from one side of the room to the other.
“Are you finished?” Silence was her answer. With a shrug, she flashed her fangs at them,
“Alright. Now it’s my turn.” Drawing her arms in, she swung them outward as if she were
shooing away a cloud of flies. The force of her movement tore through the chritchellite
guards, spraying the walls with more blue splatter, leaving nothing else behind. With an
overly dramatic sigh, Blossom lowered her arms.
“Is that really all the mightiest race in the universe can do? I have to say, I’m not impressed.”
She began to walk toward the Supreme Leader with a spring in her step, “You’re going to
need to do better than that to survive this storm.”
The Supreme Leader hammered a key on his chair, causing a dome of the orange energy from
before to surround it.
“We have the most powerful military in the universe! Two billion soldiers! Starships that can
wipe out entire cities! Weapons that can rip apart entire civilizations!”
Blossom paused, balancing on one foot. Performing a slow, lazy pirouette, she replied with a
giggle.
“Call them home. All of them.”
The Supreme Leader seemed caught off guard, but quickly buried it in indignant anger.
Pressing another key, he called out across the galaxy.
“Attention: All Units, Return to Chritchellite Prime! Return to Central Command! We are
under attack!” Without waiting for his reinforcements, the Supreme Leader’s chair took to the
sky, exiting through a skylight and hovering over the Central Command.
Within seconds, the horizon was filled with starcraft of impossible shapes and sizes. Silvery-
metal contraptions armed with weapons capable of laying entire planets to waste. In less than
five minutes, the sky was completely covered, blocking out the light of their three suns, the
only glow cast on the planet below coming from the humming weapons of the destroyers.
“Is this all?” Aku asked, stroking his beard as he floated beside the Supreme Leader’s pod.
“No, this is!” At the center of the fleet, a ship as large as all the others combined appeared.
By itself, it could have covered an entire hemisphere of the planet. At its center was a cannon
the size of the Earth’s moon, “The Extinction Gun, capable of destroying any composite
planet. Only Chritchellite Prime is able to withstand its power!”
Aku gazed down at the planet, now noticing that a shimmering green light had spread across
its entire surface. All of the little blue creatures were taking cover below the field. He turned
his attention back to Blossom.
She had taken to the air, hovering across from the Supreme Leader, arms outstretched once
more. There was a grin on her face, but not an ounce of joy behind it. Her eyes burned like
dying suns; her fangs gleamed in her own evil light.
“FIRE! ALL OF YOU! OBLITERATE THIS PRIMITIVE!” The Supreme Leader ordered.
All at once, the starships began to fire at their willing target.
Aku narrowed his eyes, taken aback by the sheer brightness of the assault. Millions of lasers
and billions of missiles, all striking with immaculate precision. He looked skyward, watching
as the Extinction Gun began to charge. Seconds turned to minutes. The light within the
cannon’s barrel was like a blue star, and growing brighter still. Then, all sound on the planet
vanished as the weapon fired. Raining the force of a supernova directly down on the
Powerpuff girl.
“Yes! Get her! Kill that filthy primitive lifeform! Show her the full might of the Chritchellite
Empire!” the Supreme Leader cackled, shielding his eyes from the onslaught. His laughter
slowly dwindled, as another’s began to grow.
Within the blinding fury of the chritchellites’ attack, a mocking, bitter laughter could be
heard over the destruction. As it grew, something else began to seep through the plasma and
starlight. A darkness unlike any other; a hellish light that defied explanation. Even as the
fleet’s assault continued, it was mere moments before all of their attempts to destroy her were
devoured in a raging inferno of rose-black darklight.
“Wh-what is happening…this, this isn’t possible.”
“Tell me, fool, have your people ever tested their weapons on gods?” Aku asked, fighting
the urge to salivate as her evil pulsed through him like an addict’s high.
“The…the primitives, they had gods but…they all d-died…to the Extinction Gun.” The
Supreme Leader tried to explain, though his words were quickly failing him. “Nothing can…
n-nothing in the universe can-”
He jumped as large black claws wrapped around his protective bubble. Aku, now the size of a
mountain, sneered at him.
“You are not contending with mere gods, Chritchellite. You have offended those who all
gods in creation fear. This is the might of Aku, and this…” Aku held his hand out, as if to
hold Blossom in his palm. Her darklight had become a black star, waiting to expand and
consume everything, “This is the might of Blossom.”
The sky exploded and a shockwave of heat rolled across the surface of the planet. Twin
beams of red erupted from the heart of the black star, ripping through the chritchellite fleet as
if it were made of tissue paper. Within seconds, half of the sky was cleared, not even ash left
behind. With another pirouette, the rest of the fleet was gone, leaving nothing behind save for
the Extinction Gun still barreling down on her.
The heat rays stopped and the blazing darklight shot into the atmosphere, piercing through
the Extinction Gun. The Supreme Leader watched as she carved through it with her bare
hands, sending the remains falling to the ground below like shooting stars. All the while, her
hateful laughter echoed in his ears.
Floating in a deluge of searing, dark fire, she fought against the tide sweeping her deeper
into the black. Gasping for air as she surfaced, she held a hand out to the empty sky. Crying
out, no sound escaped her lips. Despair wrapped its thick chains around her waist and
ankles, desperate to drag her deeper still. Her body grew heavier with every passing second,
but still she struggled. Still, she reached for the tornado above.
Tossed around in a tornado of stinging lightning and thunder, she was mercilessly battered to
and fro. She tried to find which way was up, but every time she spied the ground below, she
was thrown even further away. Crying out, no sound escaped her lips. Agony clawed at her
wrists and shoulders, desperate to carry her away, to lose her in the empty sky. Her head
grew dizzy with every passing second, but still she struggled. Still, she reached for the flames
below.
Just when hope seemed lost, she caught sight of color at the edge of her vision. Reaching for
it through the fire and flames, focusing on it with all her might, she could make it out, even if
it was hazy. If she kept reaching, her hand could almost grasp the pink petals in the wind.
As she began to give up, she saw a flash of color in the distance. Pushing through the wind
and lightning, she reached for it with all her might. Even if it was faint, if she focused, her
hand could almost grasp the pink petals in the flames.
Bubbles sat up with a gasp, hands flying to her mouth to smother a scream. Trembling, she
looked around the room in a daze. To her surprise, she saw a pair of worried green eyes look
back at her. Wordlessly, she scooted across the bed and buried herself in Buttercup’s arms.
The two lay like that, holding onto each other for dear life, fighting back tears.
Their bed had never felt so big…so empty before.
“Bubbles,” Buttercup said, finally breaking the silence, “Did you…just have the same dream
as me?”
Bubbles’ hold on her sister grew tighter. Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded.
“I was in…a storm. I couldn’t find the ground, it just kept throwing me around.”
“...Me too, but I couldn’t find the sky, I kept sinking in a tidal wave of fire.”
Buttercup bit her lip, pressing her cheek against Bubbles’ head.
“But, then I saw-”
“-flower petals. And I just-”
“-kept reaching for them.”
Silence gripped the sisters once again. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Buttercup kissed
Bubbles’ head and untangled herself from her.
“I’m gonna go down to the lab. I’m still not ready to fight him.” Climbing out of bed,
Buttercup floated to the door. She paused at the door. “...We’re gonna win, right?”
Bubbles wiped her eyes and nodded.
“Of course we are…the Powerpuff Girls never lose.”

Buttercup nodded and flashed her a timid, but hopeful smile.
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
Bubbles waved as Buttercup left, mumbling a Good Night and an I love you. She laid back in
bed, listening while Buttercup flew downstairs. She kept listening until she heard the Danger
Grid boot up. Closing her eyes, she tried to picture that dream again. Lifting her mitt, she
imagined she was reaching for the petals. If she just kept reaching…
“Hm? Who’s there?” Bubbles sat up, looking around the room. She glanced down at the bed,
noticing a doll, “Oh, hi, Octi. Sorry, I guess I forgot to bring you to bed, huh?” She crawled
to the foot of the bed, scooping the octopus into her arms.
Octi nuzzled her shoulder. Bubbles’ eyes opened wide.
“You…you really mean it?”
Octi smiled knowingly.
“Oh…okay! Um, let me get changed.” Bubbles sat the doll on the bed and flew into the
closet. As she changed into a fresh outfit, Octi watched her with a leer. When she returned
and picked him up again, he looked away as if nothing were wrong.
“Okay, show me where to go to find Blossom!” Tugging the bean bag out of the middle
window, Bubbles disappeared into the night, leaving behind an almost hopeful streak of blue.
The Supreme Leader stared in horror, unable to process what had happened in such a short
time. Not only had the invader ripped through his army in minutes, she’d not be content to
render them helpless. Once the fleet was gone, she’d turned her wrath on the rest of the
planet.
Breaths of fire so hot they melted entire cities. Bolts of lightning so powerful they tore
chunks from the surface of the planet. But, as horrible as the devastation she’d wrought was,
it was the brutality she used to hunt down every last chritchellite. They hadn’t been safe
under the ground. They hadn’t been safe above ground.
The weather generator had been destroyed, filling the air with howling winds and burning
acid rain. The other invader, the one called Aku, had shattered his protection and dragged him
to every corner of chritchellite Prime to watch her slaughter unfold. Now, not even an hour
later, he was alone, staring into those wicked eyes.
One of her hands had changed, becoming a primitive blade. However primitive it might have
been, it was stained cobalt with his peoples’ blood. The smile had never left her face, but as
she carried out her atrocities, she’d been singing a song. It was in a language he couldn’t
understand, but he knew he’d never forget it as long as he lived.
“...Commander and their leader…” She sang, now dancing in the copper rain. Splashing in
pools of blood and filth, kicking it around as if it were some kind of sick game, “...Joy and
the laughter…” She changed her other hand into a blade, slicing it through the air and
cleaving one of the few buildings still standing in half, “...she’s the toughest fighter,
Powerpuffs save the day!” Slowly, she made her way toward him, dancing and singing.
“Fighting crime, trying to save the world. Here they come just in time…” She came to a stop
in front of him, pointing her blade at his neck, “The Powerpuff Girls…” The invader giggled,
her blade changing back into a claw.
Something dangerous flashed in her eyes, and with a swift kick, she sent him tumbling across
the ground. He clawed at his chest, trying to will his hearts to beat, to will air into his lungs.
“You know.”
The Supreme Leader looked up, spit trickling from his lips as he struggled to breathe again.
“You never answered my question.” The invader kicked him onto his back, pressing her foot
against his chest. It was like a mountain was stepping on him, “If you can answer it, I’ll let
you live, how does that sound?”
The Supreme Leader nodded furiously, sucking in rapid-fire gasps of air.
“Anything! Anything!” he rasped.
The invader leered at him and tilted her head.
“What happens to a raindrop in a storm?”
He racked his brain, going over every study his people had ever done. Every research grant,
every experiment, every bit of knowledge that had gone into the weather regulator. He
opened his mouth to answer, but she pressed down on his chest, forcing the air out of his
lungs.
“You don’t know?”
He shook his head, lips moving but no sound coming out.
Her expression darkened. Like a switch being flipped, the teasing playfulness from before
was gone. She pressed down on his chest one final time. He could feel his ribs breaking.
“You really, really, really don’t know?”
He shook his head, pleading with her, begging for mercy in every primitive language they’d
discovered.
“YOU WANT ME TO TELL YOU WHAT HAPPENS? FINE, HERE’S WHAT

HAPPENS!!”
Her eyes began to rage. The darklight around her exploded, searing his skin. She drew her
fist back, pressing down on him again. One of his lungs collapsed.
“IT GETS WASHED AWAY!”
He only had a moment to realize her fist was coming down. Then, everything was gone in an
explosion that shattered their perfect planet.
Aku floated amongst the planetary debris that her final attack had left behind. Her evil energy
was still raging out of control, but her growl had become laughter as soon as the planet
ruptured beneath her fist. He opened his mouth to call out to her, but found himself paralyzed
when she turned to face him.
“Well? What do you think?” she asked with a laugh, “Not bad for my first day, hm?”
She was open to him again, but…although there was a lot of emotion circulating between
him, he couldn’t find any actual joy behind her words. He tried to search deeper, but when
she raised her eyebrow and he felt a growing bit of impatience, he quickly disregarded that
feeling.
Stroking his beard, Aku laughed and gestured to the space around them.
“Such efficient destruction. How does it feel, my Blossom? To let the hate inside guide
your hands?” Aku flinched when he saw the way her eyes narrowed. “Have…I offended
you, my Blo-”
“Stop calling me that,” she said with a menacing growl. The last vestiges of the old Blossom
faded, as her face turned a shade of green to match his. Flexing her claws, she turned away
from him, gazing into the depths of space. “She wasn’t the real me. She was just a mask, a
persona used to keep me buried…”
Aku floated over to her side, gently touching her back. He pulled back as if he’d been burned.
She hadn’t opened herself to him. The hate inside her had just grown so immense that she
couldn’t hide all of it from him. With a shaky hand, he reached out and touched her again.
The fire poured into him, rushing to every inch of his form. It was sweet, like an intoxicating
elixir. Even he, who was born from hatred itself, struggled to withstand being incinerated by
it. He couldn’t stop grinning.
“What is it I should call you then, my darling.”
She shrugged his hand off her, gazing down at the planet she’d destroyed. The darklight
thrummed and surged, invigorated as her grin became a snarl.
“I’m no fragile flower…I’m the rot at its roots. The poison to cure the sickness of life. From
now on, call me Blight.”
Aku reached for her again, but paused when she glared in his direction. No matter, he
thought, folding his arms behind his back and following her line of sight. If he followed it far
enough, he knew what he would find at the end.
“So, has the time come to bring our vengeance back to that miserable blue ball? To
smite the fools of humanity and banish them to the silence of death?”
Blight giggled, stroking her chin.
“Not like this. I want them to suffer. I want to rob them of every last shred of hope they ever
stole from the other me.”
“Then we shall start with your home? Obliterate those foolish boys, raze the city of
Townsville to the ground, and make the worlds’ heroes kneel before us?” Aku felt a
pulse of displeasure from Blight.
“No, I’m going to Townsville, alone. I’ll deal with my sisters.”
Aku blinked, dragged from his hatred by a pang of guilt in his chest.
“Your…sisters? Surely you do not mean to strike them down? They are loyal to you,
they don’t deserve-” His words caught in his throat when Blight appeared in his face. Hers
so close he could feel the heat of her breath. It stirred none of the strange elation that
Blossom’s had not even a day ago. No, gazing into her eyes, he couldn’t find any of the
longing or adoration that had seemed so natural to them. All he could find was hate and
anger.
“They deserve the worst of it. They gleefully give themselves over to the idiots of
Townsville. Then, they turn their backs on me to chase after those miserable Rowdyruff
Boys. No, this all starts with them. Once they’re out of the way, the humans won’t have any
hope left.”
Aku furrowed his brow, struggling to understand. Deep in his being, he felt the affection that
Blossom had felt, lying in Bubbles’ arms. He felt the joy and comradery she felt when
sparring with Buttercup.
“Then…I shall assist you, Blo…Blight.”
Blight laughed and shook her head, sneering at Aku.
“Don’t make me laugh. You barely defeated us before. By now they’ve figured out how to
use more of their power. And if they manage to tap into the power we inherited from the
Samurai’s sword, they’ll kill you in an instant.” She turned away from him, resting her hands
on her hips and giggling, “Me, though? There’s not even the slightest chance they’ll win.
They know they can’t beat Blossom, and I’m a better version of her!”
“Then…what is it you need of Aku?” He asked, pushing back his doubts. He latched onto
the hate flowing from her and let it flow through him. He let it chase away those unnatural
feelings; he let it bury the other him.
Blight glanced over her shoulder at him, “While I kill their only hope. You’ll kill their heroes.
C’mon,” She faced forward, her evil energy flaring around her, “Let’s roll.”
Fury of the Storm
Chapter Summary
Led through the town at her stuffed animal’s insistence, Bubbles is forced to confront
the trail of destruction left in her sister’s wake. Meanwhile, Buttercup is struggling to
overcome the anger and frustration inside her heart and mind to prove herself worthy to
wield the Samurai’s blade. Neither is prepared for what lies ahead. Time has run out for
everyone. The Storm has come to Townsville.
Chapter Notes
I'm sorry this took so long. I stopped to start working on an original story of my own.
It's coming along nicely! But, I needed a break and needed to get myself writing more
consistently, so back into fanfiction I went to clean up some loose ends and start some
new ones. I promise, I will finish Endless Possibility in the very near future. I'm also not
giving up on Map of the Problematique DX as a whole either. For anyone still around, I
cannot wait for you to see what lies in store in the future <3
If anyone remembers this fight in the original story, I really, really wanted to do Bubbles
justice this time around. I hope I succeeded.
Big shoutout to Teacupballerina for sticking around all this time and for editing and
helping me <3 You're amazing and I love you.
An equally big shoutout to FuriousFlamingFeline. I probably would have never finished

this if you hadn't gotten back into the fandom and started writing, too. I'm super excited
about the projects we're doing together, and I hope you eventually read this story, too.
The air was cool, much colder than it should have been for that time of year. The streets were
silent save for the soft steps of a single passerby. Bubbles didn’t frequent the Eastside of
Townsville, save to drop off criminals at the prison. But what little she knew told her that
something wasn’t right. Save for the ticking of a clock on the sidewalk — its broken face
displaying half past four in the morning — the world was still. Almost as if it were frozen.
“Octi…I don’t think she’s here,” Bubbles said, looking down at the doll in her arms.
Octi stared back at her, his half-lidded eyes gazing toward the ticking clock. When she
followed his gaze, she gasped, dropping him as her hands flew to cover her mouth.
Four bodies lay across the street. Their faces were unrecognizable, the twisted shapes only
vaguely resembling humans. One was halfway through the side of the beat up old house,
body warped in impossible directions. Blood dripped from what should have been legs and
streamed toward the street.
Another sat buried beneath a broken television. Spurts of red sprayed from its body with
every twitch, joining the streams from the first. Two more lay side-by-side in the street,
crumpled and discarded like soda cans. Like the first two, their blood ran fresh, pooling in the
street and forming an outline.
The shape of their killer.
“No…no, no, no! That wasn’t her!” Bubbles picked Octi up and glared at him. “This wasn’t
Blossom! Why are you showing me this?”
Octi’s head shifted to the side.
“You heard her. It was the Other Blossom, not my sister!” Hearing a noise, Bubbles looked
up. Her mouth fell open.
The outline of blood solidified, a dripping red mitt rising from the puddle. It pressed into the
ground, pulling itself free.
“NO!” Bubbles shouted, clamping her eyes shut and turning away. She felt a change in the
surrounding air, and when she opened her eyes, she realized she was somewhere else entirely.
She was inside now, in the lobby of some building. Scraps of crumbled paper, playing cards,
and knocked over chairs littered the floor. Two halves of a cheap card table cluttered one side
of the room, legs jutting outward at awkward angles. Looking back, she saw the door wide
open, and an impact point outside the entrance.
“What is…” She blinked. The room turned red, filled with bodies violated in ways that made
the four from before seem quaint and almost merciful. One at the doorway was missing its
head. Four more lay around the table. Ripped in half, tossed against and through the walls,
some even impaled on their own limbs.
Her stomach churned, and she felt bile rising in her throat as the scent of gore assaulted her
senses. Bubbles took a step back and heard a squelching sound. Her heart leapt into her
throat, but she choked it — and her dinner — back down with herculean effort. Looking
down, she realized she was standing in something.
In someone.
With a breathless cry, she stumbled back, staring down at the splattered remains. From the
waist up, it was only blood and chunks of meat. Its legs, broken in several places, were all
that proved it had once been human.
Her eyes followed the trails of blood from the bodies pooling together in the viscera. The mitt
from before reached up out of the ground, a second soon joining in it. Both palms touched the
ground and pushed.
Bubbles screamed, “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! This isn’t her! This isn’t Blossom!” She felt Octi
on her shoulder, urging her to look. She lowered her mitts from her eyes; the scene changed
again.
She was on the beach beneath the Citiesville bridge. A hideous black shape clawed a
screaming man to pieces, laughing as he struggled to crawl away. His blood streamed into the
river, where the crown of the crimson shape’s head started taking form.
No!
She was in a hallway, watching a police officer flee from an encroaching darkness. The
screeching sound of metal on metal drowned out the officer’s cries for help. A great black
shape closed the distance, bringing its claws down on him. The elevator doors behind him
opened. The shape’s twisted eyes were visible as it continued pulling itself free.
No, no, no! Stop it! Stop it!
She was in an alleyway, surrounded by broken bodies. Bodies twisted and torn into so many
pieces that she couldn’t count how many there were. Her head swam, and her vision blurred.
The blood pooled together; the shape was nearly free. Its sharp-toothed grin filled her with a
primal sense of dread. She wanted to flee. She wanted to go home and hide under the covers
and pretend she never saw anything.
But she couldn’t. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe. Even as the shape crawled free
from the pool. Even as it rose to its feet and reached out to her, claws growing from its
outstretched mitts. Horns, like bunny ears, rose out of its head; waves of flesh and blood
flowed behind it like a cape.
The shape was undeniable.
“That’s not her…that’s not Blossom!” Despite her protests, it was lurching closer. Inch by
inch, step by step, reaching out to her with brutal claws and an unhinged grin that went on
forever. “That’s not my sister!”
Octi sat behind the shape, watching with a smug little smirk on his face. His eyes were open
all the way, bearing down on the little blonde puff like a spotlight. He never blinked, he never
looked away.
Bubbles met his gaze and narrowed her eyes. When the monster’s claws reached her, she
batted it aside. It crashed into the nearby wall and splattered onto the ground.
“You’re wrong.”
Octi’s eyes narrowed, and his smile became a frown.
“That wasn’t Blossom. This isn’t Blossom.”

Octi’s eyebrows furrowed. His expression darkened, and his purple fabric changed, becoming
a shade of red. His eyes bore into her, but she didn’t waver.
“I’m going to save her. I promised I would bring her back.” Bubbles marched through the
gore, right up to Octi, and grabbed him by the leg. “No one is going to get in my way…” Her
eyes glowed. First, with streams of blue light that lit up the alleyway. Then, with searing red
heat that charred the ground beneath her.
“ Not even you, Octi. ”
Octi’s vacant smile returned; his felt turned purple once more. The surrounding scene faded.
They were in an empty alleyway with no sign of violence, save for the impact points on the
ground from days prior.
Bubbles released the breath she’d been holding and the light in her eyes went out. She gave
Octi a tight hug, beyond happy to hear him fall silent.
“I’m going to save you Blossom…I promise, no matter what.”
Bubbles looked up as the sun crept over the horizon, chasing away the night and bringing on
a new day. A powerful fatigue washed over her. Covering her mouth, she smothered a yawn
and floated into the air. She may not have found Blossom, but if she hurried home, she still
had time to eat before they started practicing with the sword.
“Hm? What’s that, Octi?” Bubbles looked down at the doll. Her eyes widened. “Really?”
Octi smirked.
“Okay, I’m on my way!” Clutching the little doll tight in her arms, Bubbles shot off over the
horizon, toward City Hall.
“Buttercup? Buttercup? Honey, are you alright?”
A pair of tired green eyes cracked open; a weary moan passed through her lips. The lights
overhead hurt her eyes and when she tried to move her entire body ached. With a grunt and a
groan, Buttercup sat up and looked around in a daze.
She was in the Danger Grid. Cracks and discoloration covered the walls and floor. Several
tiles were torn from the ceiling and an entire chunk of one corner ripped open. Fractures
spread across the protective glass in several places. Looking down, she noticed dried blood
and fading bruises on her mitts. She grabbed the side of her throbbing head and winced.
“What happened?” She asked, peering up at the Professor.
Kneeling beside her, the Professor looked around and stroked his chin.
“Well, if I had to hazard a guess…I think you may have broken a few things, sweetie.” He
chuckled and lifted her into his arms, carrying her out of the room and to the command
console. The shattered digital readout displayed “???”, with the last recorded time at half-past
five in the morning.
Buttercup smirked and shrugged her shoulders. She immediately grabbed her arm and hissed,
“My bad, guess you should make your stuff better, eh, Daddio?”
“Ha ha,” The Professor said, carrying her up the stairs, “I suppose I should. But it would be
so much easier if my dear children could stop breaking my stuff.”
The two laughed and joined Ms. Keane in the kitchen. The Professor sat Buttercup down,
then fetched a pair of coffee mugs for the two of them. Before filling them, he poured out a
glass of orange juice and passed it to the little ruffian. He took a moment to tousle her hair
before he returned to the coffee pot.
“Oh my. Buttercup, are you alright?” Ms. Keane asked. She thanked the Professor and
accepted the steaming mug, cradling it in both hands.
“Yeah, I guess I got carried away.” She glanced at the Professor. He raised an eyebrow, and
she sighed. “Yeah, I definitely got carried away. I broke the Danger Grid.”
“Well, I suppose it’s never too late to learn about moderation.” Ms. Keane sipped her coffee
and glanced toward the stairs. “Should we wake Bubbles? It’s going to be a busy day, isn’t
it?”
“I’ll get her!” Without waiting for a response, Buttercup shot from the table and up the stairs.
“Hey, Bubblehead! Time to wake up and start…practicing…with…”
She stared at the empty bed; her heart dropped into her stomach. Her eyes drifted to the blue
beanbag on the floor and then to the open window. The glass of orange juice in her hand
shook. The throbbing in her head grew stronger, blurring her vision.
Muttering “no, no, no,” on repeat, crackles of green electricity engulfed her body. She shot
around the room, scouring every inch a hundred times over while her glass fell to the ground
in slow motion. Buttercup dropped to her knees and screamed, “NO! NO! NO!” at the top of
her lungs, pounding her busted fists against the floor. The house shook; the orange juice hit
the floor and spilled.
The invincible little heroine doubled over, held her head, and sobbed. This wasn’t happening.
This couldn’t be happening. Not Bubbles, too.
“Buttercup? What’s wrong?” The Professor looked around the room. The sheets were torn
from the bed and every toy was tossed across the carpet. Every outfit was ripped from the
closet and drawers, and the three beanbag chairs were in shreds and tossed aside, filling
scattered all over the room. At the heart of the destruction was Buttercup, looking smaller
and more afraid than he’d ever seen before.
“She’s gone! Bubbles is gone, too! She’s gone, Professor! Why!?” Buttercup beat her fists
against the floor again, shaking it so hard he almost fell, “Why do they keep leaving me?!
She didn’t even say goodbye!”
Choking down another sob, Buttercup rose to her feet and screamed. Emerald lightning burst
from her body, accelerating her cells faster and faster. She had to go back. She had to find a
way back to the past to stop Bubbles from leaving. What good was being fast enough to go
back if she could never go back enough?
But, before she could fall backwards through time, a pair of gentle hands grabbed her. And
— though they were like tissue paper compared to her unfathomable strength — refused to
let her go. Through bloodshot, tear-stained eyes, she looked up at her father, pleading for
some kind of answer.
“It’s okay, Buttercup. Shh, it’s alright, sweetie.” Cradling her in his arms for the second time
that day, he held on with every bit of strength he had. She trembled, thrumming with so much
power that if his grip loosened for even an instant, he was certain he’d lose her, too. “It’s
okay. Just, please, calm down. We’ll take this one step at a time, okay?”
At first, she resisted him. The shaking grew even more intense, threatening to toss him across
the room. All it would take was a single flex, a single push, and she could reduce him to a
smear on the wall. But, as he held on, the trembling settled. The crackling electricity that
seared his skin fizzled. The light that threatened to blind him went out. With a sigh, the room
plunged back into the natural light of the sun peeking in through the windows.
With an almost imperceptible nod of her head, she relented.
“She probably went out to keep looking for Blossom.” The Professor explained, petting her
hair and kissing her head. “It’s okay. Bubbles is strong. She’ll be alright. And,” he added,
“She’s not reckless. If she runs into trouble, I’m sure she’ll come home.”
“Should I…” Buttercup bit her lip and peered up at him, “I should go look for her, right?” To
her surprise, the Professor shook his head.
“No. No, as worried as I am, we need to start your training right away.”
Buttercup slid out of the Professor’s arms. “What training?”
“With the sword, of course.” The Professor motioned for Buttercup to follow him and left the
room. Heading down the stairs, he took them two at a time. When he reached the living
room, he opened his HammerSpace Bag to retrieve the sacred weapon. Taking a cleansing
breath, he turned to hold it out to her.
Buttercup looked at the Professor, then at the sword. Snatching it away, she gave it a shake. It
didn’t feel special. It didn’t look very special either, considering it was supposed to be the
most sacred artifact in the family.
“What sort of training do I need? It’s just a sword. I just hit stuff with the sharp end, right?”
She grasped the hilt and gave it a tug, but to her amazement, it simply rattled and stayed in
place. Her eyes lit up, and she tugged harder, but even putting her back into it, the sword
refused to budge.
The Professor took the sword back and, with a single motion, unsheathed it and held it out.
“That’s what I thought at first, as well. But, as you can see, it’s not that simple.” He re-
sheathed the sword and retreated to the kitchen to refill his coffee mug. “Cassy, we’ll be in
the basement. Would you care to join us?”
Ms. Keane stared at the Professor from behind her mug. The way he gripped the sword, it
was almost like a switch had flipped. He stood up taller, his shoulders squared. There was a
determined glint in his eyes that was unlike anything she’d ever seen before. It was enough to
steal her breath away and left her only able to nod in response.
“Good. Buttercup, would you mind carrying her?” The Professor took a long drink of his
coffee, draining the scalding liquid in a single gulp, “We’ve got a lot of work to do.”
Ms. Bellum stood in her kitchen, sipping a mug of coffee and peering over the Citiesville
Times. The Townsville Tribune sat discarded on her table. Alongside it was a copy of the
Farmsville Gazette and a collection of other papers from the surrounding area. There was no
new information in the search for Blossom. But, to her relief, Citiesville seemed to have
returned to normal. Murders and muggings-gone-wrong were a daily fixture of the city across
the river. But, at the very least, the particularly brutal murders caused by Aku had stopped.
‘Right around the time Blossom disappeared,’ Ms. Bellum noted. She sat the paper down and
washed her empty mug out. She had yet to speak with Professor Utonium. But even without
his insight, she determined that Blossom’s disappearance had to do with Aku.
Though she pretended everything was normal, even from a distance, Ms. Bellum noticed the
unease in the Powerpuff leader following her defeat at the hands of the monster. The slipping
control, the violent outbursts, all culminating in her abrupt disappearance. The only logical
conclusion was that Blossom couldn’t cope with losing and took matters into her own hands.
‘I hope you’re alright, sweetie.’ She thought with a sigh. Resting her hands on her hips, she
stared out the kitchen window. ‘Maybe I should have spoken with her after that incident…’
Between the defeat and Major Glory’s unsanctioned visit, it was no wonder the little girl
unraveled. It was too much pressure for any person — let alone a little girl — to bear.
A series of rough, random knocks at the door stirred Ms. Bellum out of her thoughts. She
tightened the belt of her robe and made her way to the door, peeking through the blinds. Her
eyebrow raised. A bemused smile spread across her lips, dragging her the rest of the way out
of her darker thoughts.
Ms. Bellum tugged the door open and sighed, putting on an exasperated expression. “Boys,
do you have any idea what time it is?”
The Rowdyruff Boys grinned back at her.
“Time to get started!”
“Yeah, we wanna get to work!”

“Let’s break some stuff!” Boomer shouted, pumping his fists. His head rocked to the side
when Brick gave him a solid punch to the face.
“We ain’t here just to break stuff, dummy! We’re gonna build stuff, too!”
“Yeah, dummy!” Butch chimed in with a twitch and a grin so wide it barely fit on his face.
He turned back to Ms. Bellum. “Get dressed and let’s go! Let’s go!”
“Brick, don’t hit your brother.” Ms. Bellum’s voice cut through the excitement, drawing all
three sets of eyes back to her. She frowned and placed her hands on her hips.
The Rowdyruff leader lowered his eyes, a flush coming to his cheeks. Grumbling, he rubbed
his arm and glared at Boomer.
“S-s…I’m, uh, I just…” He growled and screwed his eyes shut, “I’m s-s-sorr-rry! I’m sorry,
okay?”
“Huh? Oh, uh…it’s…okay?”
Brick peeked one eye open and glanced up at Ms. Bellum. When her frown turned into a
smile, his heart swelled and a grin replaced his pained expression. He stood up straight,
putting his hands on his hips in a pose that matched hers.
“So, when do we get started?”
“Don’t you boys have school today?” Ms. Bellum asked, stepping back and gesturing for the
boys to come inside. They buzzed past her, taking seats at the kitchen table. Her smile
softened, and checking the clock, she shrugged and closed the door. She returned to the
kitchen, turned on the stove, and began digging through the pantry. “Have you eaten yet?”
“No, cuz you said we shouldn’t steal food anymore.” Boomer said, resting his chin on his
mitts. As if proving his point, all three of their stomachs growled in unison.
Ms. Bellum chuckled and set to work mixing pancake batter and pouring three glasses of
orange juice.
“That’s right. If you’re going to be heroes, you shouldn’t take things that don’t belong to you.
Good job, boys.” She glanced back over her shoulder. “The remote for the television is in the
living room. If you want to watch something while you wait, you’re welcome to. But,” she
added as Brick rose from his seat, “You’ll have to wait until after school before you can go
back to work. It’s important for you boys to get an education.”
“Aw man…alright, sure thing, Ms. B,” Brick said, shooting off to the room and returning
with the remote.
He turned on the TV, and the three boys started arguing over what to watch. She almost
interrupted them, but decided against interfering. No one was hitting anyone. The insults
were harmless enough, and it kept them entertained. They finally settled on a show about
transforming robot animals, and she couldn’t help but feel a little proud of them.
“We interrupt this broadcast for an emergency announcement.” Stanley Whitfield’s voice cut
through the cheery cartoon anthem, like an arrow straight to the mayoral assistant’s heart.
Ms. Bellum turned off the stove and turned around slowly. Her eyes widened, the spatula
falling from her hand.
It clattered against the floor, but no one even flinched at the sound. All four sets of eyes
stared at the television, watching in disbelief at the fight unfolding. Ms. Bellum shook her
head, tearing her eyes away from the screen to drag herself back to reality.
“Boys.” Ms. Bellum’s voice cut through the thick, painful silence that had swallowed up the
room. “Get to town and start evacuating everyone near City Hall. Then work your way
outwards until you’ve found everyone.”
Butch was the first to snap out of shock, “But what about B-”
“Right now, she needs you to back her up. So protect the people she can’t, then once
everyone is safe, you can join her.” Ms. Bellum hurried to her bedroom, pausing at the door.
She turned back and pointed to the window. “Go, boys, go!”
Without a second glance, the trio shot off into town. Ms. Bellum watched them leave, then
turned back to the image on the screen.
“Hang on, Bubbles.”
Following Octi’s directions, Bubbles landed in front of City Hall. She looked around.
Nothing was out of the ordinary, despite the stuffed octopus’ dire warnings. The sky was
clear and blue. Birds were singing; flowers were blooming. A scant number of cars cruised
down the street, making the early morning drive to work. Despite it being less than a week
since their fight with Mojo’s robot, repairs to the city had been mostly completed in record
time.
Bubbles couldn’t help but smile. “Good job, boys.” She may not have shown it, but Bubbles
had been listening. She listened to every word when the boys told them about their
adventures with Mr. Lamont and the Townsville Reconstruction Project. After years of
senseless violence and aimless destruction, the boys were finally putting their talents to good
use. And Bubbles couldn’t be more proud of them.
Townsville was a better place with the Rowdyruff Boys on their side.
“Oh, Bubbles! What brings you out here this early in the morning?” A familiar voice called
out, snapping the little girl from her thoughts.
Turning, she spotted Talking Dog. To her surprise, he was on a leash, attached to a round man
with big, equally round glasses and a white lab coat. There was a tiny gray cloud over his
head, but no rain or thunder. There was a tiny smile on his lips, though he occasionally
sniffled as the pair approached the Powerpuff girl.
“Hello Talking Dog…and Mr. Gubrious?” Bubbles tilted her head and brought her hand to
her mouth. They were not a pair she expected to see together.
“Just Lou, is f-fine.” Lou Gubrious said, clearing his throat. A single raindrop fell from the
cloud, which he quickly wiped away. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay,” Bubbles said, beaming. “I didn’t know you two were friends.”
Talking Dog chuckled, “Oh yes, we’re darn near inseparable these days. See, this guy’s a bit
of a sad sack, so his doctor thought he could use some joy in his life. So, you know what they
say, a dog is man’s best friend and a talking dog is even better.”
Lou Gubrious smiled and scratched the dog behind his ears, making his leg kick.
“It’s been a mutually beneficial arrangement. I’ve helped this little yapper get over his fear of
thunder and lightning.” He gestured to the cloud over his head. “Only a few showers in the
last couple months.”
“That’s great to hear! I’m so happy for both of you!” Though she was happy for them,
Bubbles couldn’t help but feel something was wrong. This couldn’t have been the reason Octi
told her to come to City Hall. Looking around, she realized her doll was missing.
“Is something wrong?”
“Did you lose something, Bubbles? You know, I seem to recall that being a pretty normal
thing. You’d lose your head if it wasn’t screwed on. Does your head screw on? I guess not.
That’d be silly. Still, little girls made from kitchen condiments are already pretty silly, so I
guess-”
Bubbles blinked and looked down at the pavement. A shadow fell over the street and the air
took on a strange scarlet glow. She looked up at the pair, seeing them staring up at the sky
behind her. Holding her breath, she turned to the sky. Her mouth fell open and her heart
missed a beat.
“Blossom?”
High above, a surging, chaotic darklight blacked out the early morning sky. Darkness poured
out from the dying sun at the center and turned the horizon black as night. At the heart of the
storm, a figure with burning eyes glared down at the city of Townsville, arms spread and
claws grasping at the air. Her gaze met the lone heroine’s and a joyless sneer spread across
her lips.
There was no time to think. Bubbles moved her body between the odd couple and the heavy
fist crashing down on them in less than the blink of an eye. A weight like a falling star
slammed into her and drove her knee-deep into the pavement. Bubbles pushed back, bracing
one hand with the other. Her body overflowed with sapphire light, struggling against the
devil’s fire that threatened to consume her.
“Run!” was all she could force out, not daring to look away from the hateful eyes boring
down into her. Over the raging flames pouring out of her opponent, she strained her ears to
listen for the sound of retreating footsteps. Once they were far enough away, she braced
herself and shoved back with all her strength.
The monster barely budged despite her efforts. Digging into the locked off depths of her
power, Bubbles struggled forward. She took a single step. The ground cracked and exploded
beneath her, driving her waist deep into the concrete. Still, she persisted, focusing her effort
into using her own body as leverage. With a scream of exertion, she finally shoved the
assailant back.
Already gasping for air, Bubbles dug her way out of the ground. She looked up at the
imposter wearing her sister’s skin. Her eyes narrowed and an intense hatred — something
utterly foreign to the little girl — burned within her chest.
She was taller, almost a head taller, than Bubbles. Her hair was a darker shade of orange and
her eyes a fiercer shade of red than the sister she remembered. The scarlet dress she wore
flowed like fire around her pitch black body. Horns rose from her head like a crown,
surrounding a dark perversion of the bow she cherished so much. Instead of mitts, her hands
were razor-sharp claws. They clutched and flexed, as if desperate to rip and tear.
Her sickly green face held none of the courage or confidence that Bubbles always admired in
her big sister. She wore a wide, sharp-toothed grin, but behind her eyes there was nothing but
seething hatred.
“You’re the one…who took my sister away.” Bubbles hissed through her clenched teeth.
The imposter threw her head back and laughed. Like nails on a chalkboard, her voice
scratched and scraped against every good memory the little girl had of the person she used to
be.
“Bubbles. I’m hurt.” The monster’s glare darkened and her grin widened. “I am Blossom-”
“No, you’re not.” Bubbles spat the words out without waiting for her to finish.
The monster’s eyes twitched. “I’m the real Blossom. I’m the better Blossom.” She continued,
taking a dangerous step closer with every declaration. She paused, looking down her nose at
the little girl with a sneer. “But if it makes you feel better, I don’t like that name anymore,
either. It’s nice to finally meet you. You can call me Blight.”
Blight. The Other Blossom. The sickness that had eaten away at her beloved sister for two
weeks, sucking the joy from her smile, twisting her heart into something awful. The one who
killed those people. The one who said those hateful words.
Bubbles’ mitts clenched and her entire body shook while she narrowed her eyes. Power raced
through her veins, igniting her skin with a thin sheen of sapphire light. Her eyes overflowed
with energy. Hatred — like an all-consuming blue fire — wrapped around her heart and her
thoughts. A hatred she hadn’t felt in years. One she swore she’d never give into again.
If anyone deserved her hatred, it was this monster. The Blight that took her sister away.
“Give her back.” Her voice was low, every word dripping with venom.
Blight leaned closer, pressing her forehead against Bubbles’.
“She’s gone.” Her grin twitched. “I killed her.”
An icicle of fear pierced through Bubbles’ heart for a second, almost cooling her anger. But,
just as quickly as it came, a fresh eruption of emotion melted it away. There was no room left
for fear in her heart. No room for doubt or uncertainty. No room for anything to stop her from
lashing out with every ounce of strength she could muster.
The city shook as her fist crashed into Blight’s open palm. The monster’s claws dug into her
skin, holding it back with only the slightest twitch of a struggle. Beneath them, the ground
quaked. Streams of blue and rose-red energy crackled and arced from their bodies, lifting the
busted concrete into the air and obliterating it.
“And now I’m going to kill you. You pathetic traitor!” Blight drew her free hand back and
brought it down on the side of Bubbles’ head. The impact sent her crashing through city hall.
Before the dust could settle, the white limestone exploded and a streak of blue came flying
out.
“GIVE BLOSSOM BACK TO ME!” Bubbles screamed, her voice cracking. She unleashed a
furious assault that Blight deflected and evaded with a terrifying lack of effort. Bubbles'
barrage of punches halted with a knee to her gut that knocked the wind from her lungs.. She
recovered quickly, but her retaliatory strike sailed through the space where the monster had
once been. A new blow rained down on her cheek, knocking her through a parked car and
careening through a building.
Bubbles came flying back, only to find Blight waiting for her. She cleaved a gash across her
chest, then another across her cheek. The Powerpuff girl hit the ground, landed on all fours,
and shot back up with a reckless uppercut.
“Aw, what’s wrong? Am I too strong, and tough, and mean for sweet, innocent little Bubbles?
C’mon, sister! Hit me!” Blight dodged a kick and brought her forehead crashing down into
Bubbles’ face. Without waiting for her to recover, she lifted her hand. The darklight around
her concentrated into the center of her palm.
Despite the daze she was in, Bubbles’ eyes snapped open and her body moved just in the nick
of time. She watched the energy blast tear through everything in its path, obliterating the
lower half of the building from before and ripping through several more.
All the boys’ hard work, undone in a single reflex.
That thought only fueled her anger even more. Bubbles turned to Blight and, with a sharp
intake, unleashed a hypersonic scream.
Blight grinned, drew in a breath, and countered with her own scream. The twin sound waves
collided. The initial impact was like a bomb going off, ripping a hole in the ground that went
all the way into the sewers. Wastewater and debris, caught up in the collision, swirled and
spewed in every direction. A gash spread across the street, a growing scar on the city itself.
Bubbles’ knees grew weak. Her throat turned raw as she dug deeper and deeper for more
strength. Dropping to the ground, she dug her fists in. She focused on the joy and pride she’d
seen in the boys’ eyes as they talked about their work. Focused on the pain and despair she’d
seen in Buttercup’s eyes the morning after Blossom disappeared. Focused on the terror in her
big sister’s voice, worried she might lose to the monster now standing in front of her.
Every ounce of pain and suffering from the last two weeks. All of it was her fault. Not Aku,
not Mojo, and definitely not Blossom. Every. Single. Thing. Was. Her. Fault.
With that thought echoing in her head, Bubbles felt her throat rip open and blood spray from
her mouth as she screamed even louder. The blue-hot flames inside her heart surged outward,
flooded her veins and burned beneath her skin. They forced her back to her feet and then
forced her to take a step forward.
Her head was spinning, her vision was swimming, but still she screamed. Harder. Louder.
Stronger. Until, with one last explosion, her voice overwhelmed the monster, sending her
flying. Glass shattered and vaporized in the surrounding air. The already damaged buildings
crumbled, the others started wobbling.
Blight flipped in the air, landing with a flourish. Her hand rose to her throat; her smile curled
downward into a snarl.
“Give…her… BACK TO ME! ” Red spilled down Bubbles’ lips as another Ultra-Super
Hypersonic Scream tore its way through her shredded throat.
This time, Blight grit her teeth and fought back against the force. The darklight around her
deepened. With a roar that rose until it drowned out Bubbles’ scream, she lunged through the
sound. Her arm twisted into a long, sharp blade that cleaved the ground where Bubbles had
been. She snarled and glared down at the little Powerpuff girl.
Bubbles rose to her feet and wiped the blood away from her mouth. Her body thrummed with
power, so much that it overflowed in waves off of her skin. Glossier than usual, her hair
whipped up in the billowing energy; her eyes blazed brighter than ever before. Though she
couldn’t stand the feeling, she clutched at the hatred raging inside of her.
A moment — the briefest instant — of electricity passed between the two. Then, like a
rocket, Blight was on top of Bubbles, taking another swing at her with her blade. The strike
missed, but the monster’s claws followed closely behind, slicing the air and nicking the edge
of Bubbles’ dress. A streak of blood hit the pavement. The two vanished in a swirl of blue
and rose-red.
The attacks came faster than before, faster than Bubbles’ eyes could hope to keep up with.
There was no chance to strike back, no opportunity to push back against the storm. Her body
moved on instinct alone. She evaded the worst of the monster’s brutal strikes, but the
difference in speed was enough for one in every five to get through.
As the cuts added up, Blight painted the street with Bubbles’ blood.
Drawing in a deep breath, Bubbles unleashed another scream to buy herself some distance.
But Blight was more than ready to retaliate this time. Sucking in a gust of air through her
clenched teeth, the monster roared out a torrent of flames that drove the heroine to her knees.
Flames ate up the surrounding oxygen, and Bubbles struggled to breathe. In the brief
moments between waves of fire, she gasped, sucking air into her aching lungs. The heat was
unbearable, impossible for her conscious thoughts to fully process. In the back of her mind,
she recalled the solar flare from two years ago. But even that felt like a gentle campfire
compared to the fury bearing down on her now.
Beneath her feet, the concrete turned to slag. It melted through her shoes and stockings and
charred her skin. The lack of oxygen made her lightheaded. She needed a way out; she
needed a second to catch her breath.
The blue flames within her rushed to her eyes. With a broken scream, she shot her heat rays
through the flames, feeling them crash into the beast on the other end. Without a second to
lose, Bubbles pulled herself free from the rubble and took to the air.
The scent of ozone caught her attention; her eyes widened.
Her arms crossed over her chest just as the thought reached her mind. Her arms touched and a
devastating force collided with her chest, knocking the wind from her lungs. Electricity
surged through her body, dragging a breathless scream from her lips. Moments later, a
thunderclap slammed into her and sent her careening through hundreds of feet of dirt and
stone.
Staring up at the sky, Bubbles fought to move her body. She was miles from City Hall now.
There were people nearby, screaming as they fled from the scene. She wanted to worry about
them, wanted to fly into action to save them. But as her mouth hung open and her body
ceaselessly twitched, she realized she couldn’t breathe.
She realized her heart had stopped beating.
Her ears rang and she could faintly make out voices. They suddenly grew louder. Heavy
pounding steps marched toward her. Though the rest of her body refused to work, her eyes
focused just enough to see the burning figure growing closer. With a grunt and a whimper,
she rolled herself onto her stomach, then pushed her trembling arms into the ground until she
was nearly upright.
Blight’s foot connected with her side, sending her toppling head over heels into, and then
through, a nearby building. She continued bouncing, smashing through another wall, and then
another, before finally coming to a stop embedded in the side of a dumpster.
Bubbles forced her eyes open and saw Octi sitting next to the hole she left in the nearest
building. His head tilted to the side and his smug little smirk grew wider.
“No…” she muttered, dragging herself out of her metal prison and stumbling to her feet. She
ignored the way Octi’s eyebrows furrowed, focusing instead on the monster strolling toward
her.
She spat out the blood pooling in her mouth and listened around her. They were still
evacuating this part of town. There were still hundreds, maybe thousands, of people within
earshot. Even if she could move her feet and fists, another clash could be devastating. As
much as she wanted to save Blossom, she knew that her sister always prioritized protecting
citizens over winning a fight.
Gritting her teeth, she shook the last of the electricity from the tips of her mitts. Bubbles’
eyes lit up, scanning the area. She had to come up with some kind of plan. She needed to get
everyone to safety first, then she could focus on beating Blight.
“What’s wrong? Giving up already?” Blight stepped through the hole in the building. Then
she bashed the wall, bringing the rest of the building down behind her. She wore a grin, but it
refused to reach her eyes. Like a smile forced over a scowl. “I thought you were hardcore
now. You beat Danger Level 11, didn’t you?”
Blight shot forward and grabbed Bubbles by her throat before the smaller girl could react.
“Is this too real for you, Bubbles? Am I too real?” With a twist, Blight threw Bubbles back
through the collapsed buildings, bringing down the others that had somehow remained
standing. With a slight bend of her knees, she soared through the wreckage, appearing above
the fallen hero. Drawing back her blade, she snarled and brought it down.
For the third time, Bubbles moved without seeing the attack coming. Twisting around, the
blade sliced her side before piercing into the street. The brief effort it took for Blight to pull it
free bought her enough time to get away. She landed and grabbed her side, panting.
The flames hadn’t gone out, but try as she might to hold on to them, Bubbles found herself
unable to fully embrace them. The screams of fear and panic in the air kept drawing her
attention away from the threat directly in front of her.
Blight had no such hesitation, tugging her blade free and sauntering toward her as if this were
a day at the park. Her bladed arm swung playfully at her side and there was a skip to her step.
Whatever joy she expressed was missing from her eyes.
I have to win.
That thought bubbled up from the depths of her heart, pushing back against her own panic. It
wasn’t a matter of trying. It was a simple truth.
I promised.
As much as it pained her to even think it, nothing else mattered. She made a promise. She
swore that no matter what happened, she would be there for Blossom.
I have to save her!
Shoving the pain into the back of her mind, Bubbles stood upright. She reached for the
flames of hatred and anger again.
Blight stopped, tilting her head, “What?”
“Give her back.” Bubbles said. Her eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. Her irises glowed,
overflowing with streams of blue like tears flowing in reverse.
Blight’s grin turned into a scowl. The storm around her grew angrier.
“She’s gone.”
Bubbles’ fists trembled. She clutched onto the flames, pressing them into her heart, willing
them into her soul.
“Give. Her. Back!”
“ SHE’S GONE! ” Blight screamed. The light in her eyes ignited. She readied her heat rays,
but before she could fire them, they both turned to see a helicopter flying over the chaos.
Inside, a camera observed the two, while a reporter mumbled into his shaking microphone.
Bubbles’ grip on the flames went slack. The heat vanished in an icy wave of terror.
Blight’s own flames darkened. Heat rays exploded from her eyes, a loud searing sound
piercing through the silence.
Everything around her melted away as Bubbles soared through the air, straining against her
own weakness to make it in time. The world stood still, until a blistering pain enveloped her
consciousness, as if she’d plunged headfirst into the surface of the sun. Waves upon waves of
heat and concussive force crashed into her back.
Every thought, every sound, every sensation disappeared in pure, blinding pain. Everything
except for the sight of the faces of the three people in the helicopter, staring frozen back at
her, unable to move, unable to flee from the shelter her body was providing.
Their faces gave her the strength to hold back her scream and fight through the pain. Even as
the intensity grew, she refused to move. She couldn’t win. Not like this, with so much to lose.
But neither could she win by losing everything else.
Blossom would never let anyone die to save herself. If Bubbles lost even a single person to
save her, she knew her sister would never forgive her. She would never forgive herself. She
had to be stronger than she’d ever been because the people in front of her right now needed
her to save them.
Even with the fire and fury of Hell itself bearing down on her, Bubbles refused to move, and
she refused to cry.
“Bubbles!”
The heroine’s eyes snapped open. Her vision cleared just in time to see a streak of red pull the
helicopter out of the way. With a grunt, Bubbles spun out of the way, letting the heat rays go
flying harmlessly into the air. Gasping and grunting in pain, she looked around in a daze. A
green streak zig-zagged through the collapsing buildings, pulling people free and out of the
war zone. Looking the other way, she saw a matching streak of dark blue zoom through the
streets, carrying stacks of cars ten to twenty high.
Turning around, she couldn’t help but smile.
“Brick?”
“Hey! Don’t worry about everyone else. We’ll take care of it.” Brick thrust his mitt to the
ground. His scowl twitched when he and Blight made eye contact. “You focus on beating
that…thing. We’ll back you up as soon as we can!”
Bubbles choked back the urge to cry. Reaching up, she wiped the corners of her eyes and
nodded.
“Okay. Thank you, Brick.”
The Rowdyruff leader smirked, “Word. You gotta get your sis back, right?” He glared at
Blight once more and growled, “Show that faker just how tough you really are.”
Bubbles turned her attention back to the imposter wearing her sister’s skin. She closed her
eyes, focusing just on her. The one who stole her sister away. The one who ripped their
family apart. The one who wanted to ruin everything they ever fought for.
When she reached for the flames this time, they heeded her call. Engulfing every inch of her
with enough fire and fury to match the devil herself. She felt her wounds closing, her burns
fading, and the world around her growing lighter. When she opened her eyes, the world
drowned in a flood of blue. The cute little Bubbles from before was gone.
She was hardcore now.
Officer Perez wasn’t sure what exactly compelled him to head into the station that day. It
wasn’t even half-past six in the morning, and already the blaring alarm called out every
available officer to help evacuate people near City Hall into the Monster Security Bunkers.
Despite seeing the sky darken and feeling the earth shake, something nagged at the back of
his mind, telling him to turn around.
His intuition hadn’t failed him yet, so against his better judgment, he stood in front of the
station. Leaning on his cane, he struggled to keep his balance as another quake shook the city.
Perez cursed under his breath and adjusted his hat.
“What are you doing Miguel…” He muttered, shaking his head and pushing his way inside.
Everything was quiet. The night crew was already gone. A half-empty coffee pot had gone
cold in the break room, several stacks of documents had toppled over in the rush, and an
obnoxious dial tone broke the silence thanks to a phone sitting off its cradle. He paused by
the desk to hang it up and considered turning around and leaving.
Then, he heard something at the back of the station. Straining his ears to listen closer, it
sounded like something scraping the floor, then something tumbling shortly after. Perez
stopped to make sure his gun was on his hip, then steadied his nerves and hobbled his way to
the back.
‘There it is again.’ He turned toward evidence storage. He saw the door cracked open, though
there was no light on inside. Taking his gun from its holster, focusing all of his weight on his
good leg, he stepped inside. The room was empty, but the sound was louder. Shuffling
through the shelves, his gaze focused on the vault door at the very back of the room.
The Supervillain Evidence Locker.
The door was open.
Perez crept closer and adjusted his grip on his gun. Behind the heavy door, he heard someone
muttering in a low voice.
“No…no, no, no, no. There has to be something…anything! I just need one tiny piece and
then…I don’t know. I don’t know!”
Shouldering through the door, Perez leveled his gun with the intruder. His arm wavered, and
the weapon lowered.
“Harry?”
The hunched over figure digging through the boxes barely resembled the scruffy-haired
partner that Perez came to rely on in the last two weeks. The dark bags under his eyes were
visible even in the near pitch-blackness of the room. When he heard the sound, he spun
around, backed up against the wall, and aimed his gun straight at his partner.
“M-M-Miguel, is that you?” Shomes’ gun rattled in his shaking hand. Sweat streaked his
dirty face. His head looked naked without his beanie. A sweat-stained white t-shirt stuck to
his body like he’d come out of a sauna.
Perez holstered his gun and took a step closer. He froze when Harry took a step forward, gun
still raised.
“D-don’t come any closer!”
Perez lifted his hands, leaning back against the wall to keep from falling.
“I won’t. Let’s just calm down, partner. Put the gun down, and let’s talk this out.” From the
corner of his eye, Perez noticed something strange. A purple octopus doll sitting on a nearby
shelf. It fixed its gaze on him. Unblinking. Unmoving. Although he knew a doll neither
blinked nor moved, he couldn’t help but feel unnerved by just how still the stuffed animal
was. “What’s going on, Shomes? The city is under attack. We could really use you out on the
field.”
Harry shook his head, fumbling behind him with his free hand.
“No, no, no. You’re just trying to stop me. You’re all just trying to stop me from finding out
the truth.” His voice grew louder with every word until he was shouting. “I have to figure
this out, Perez. I c-can’t just l-let her fade away. I have to figure this out!” The doll’s smile
grew wider.
“Let who fade away?” Perez took a long breath and slowly let it out. “Did you figure out
something about Neighborfield?”
“N-Neighborfield…” Shomes’ voice cracked and fresh tears spilled down his cheeks,
“Neighborfield is gone, Miguel. It’s gone, and no one remembers it was ever there.” He
hiccuped and lowered his gun. “She’s gone. She’s gone and I don’t even know her name.”
“Who is gone, Harry?” Perez kept his voice low and his eyes fixed on Shomes’. He felt an
unnerving sensation to the side, but resisted the urge to glance in the doll’s direction.
“I don’t know!” Harry brought his free hand up to his face and pressed it against his eye. “I
don’t know her name! I just…we were supposed to get married, but I don’t know who she is,
and he won’t tell me!”
The hair on the back of Perez’s neck rose and his mouth ran dry.
“Who won’t tell you?”
“The one who took her away.”
Perez’s eyes finally drifted toward the doll. The sound of the gun cocking stole his attention
back.
“Don’t look at him!” Shomes’ hissed, “Don’t. Shh…” He adjusted the grip on his gun and
brought his finger to his lips, “Don’t look at him. If you look at him, he’ll talk to you. And if
he talks to you, eventually…eventually it’s all you can hear. I don’t,” screwing his eyes shut,
Shomes shook his head, “I don’t want that to happen to you, Miguel. Just…just don’t look at
him.”
It was at that moment that Perez noticed something was off. Not just Shomes’ behavior, but
something about the world was off. And that’s when he figured it out: he couldn’t hear the
fighting anymore. He couldn’t feel the ground shaking. The room they were standing in was
perfectly still; perfectly silent.
There was nothing to hear except Shomes’ frantic breathing; nothing to feel except for the
weight of the doll’s gaze pressing down on him, demanding his attention.
Perez licked his lips. “What are you doing here, Harry?”
The gun trembled in the detective’s hand.
“I have to find a piece of the machine. Something, anything, from Mojo’s machine. I have…I
have to find it so I can…” Shomes shook his head, “No, no, no! I can’t. I can’t! I can’t! I
can’t! B-but, it’s the…” He turned toward the doll, “I know. I know it’s the only way!”
“Harry, that machine was vaporized. There was nothing left once the girls were done with it.
We went over it with Mojo when we were investigating his Doomsday question, remember?”
Perez felt a chill run down his spine when Harry looked up at him. The boyish glimmer that
had once been in his partner’s eyes was gone. They were dull and hollow — looking through
him, not at him.
“Doomsday?” The word hung in the air. Harry finally lowered his gun and raised his head to
the sky, staring unblinking at the ceiling, “Doomsday…”
“Harry?”
Against his better judgment, Perez glanced in the doll’s direction. Its purple felt had turned a
shade of crimson that glowed in the dark. The once dopey eyes looked enormous. Too big for
its face, and too real to be stitched on. They were shaking, looking at everything and nothing.
The smile on its face was gone — in its place was a frown of unbridled fury.
The room had grown hotter, so hot that Perez began sweating. And darker, so dark that all he
could see anymore was the seething little doll, growing larger by the moment. Its tentacles
spilled off the shelves, thumping against the floor and knocking boxes of laser guns and
robotic shrapnel from the shelves. As its fury grew, a low drone replaced the silence. Deep,
deep, deep within that drone hummed a nearly inaudible sound, impossibly faint yet
impossible to ignore.
The growing screech of a poorly tuned violin, playing the same note over and over and over
and over again. Louder with every draw of the bow, angrier with every vibration of the
strings.
“I’m sorry, Miguel.”
Perez looked up just in time to see the flash of the barrel. A blinding pain flared in his
shoulder, knocking him back against the wall. His cane clattered to the ground and his still
injured leg gave out. Sinking to the floor, he grabbed his shoulder to staunch the blood and
gazed up into the wide, crazed look in Shomes’ eyes.
“I have to go there. I have to see it. Then…then I’ll remember. I’ll remember what we all
forgot. I can’t,” Shomes holstered his gun and pressed his thumbs against his eyes, “I can’t let
it take you, too, Miguel. Please…please d-don’t follow me. I’ll find it.”
He pulled his thumbs away; blood streamed down his face.
“I’ll find her. I’ll find Neighborfield. And I’ll find the Doomsday.” Shomes turned and
snatched the doll from the shelf, stuffing it in his pocket. Without a second glance back, he
stormed out of the room.
Perez pulled his hand away. He was bleeding, but the shot had only grazed him. Shomes
warning echoed in his mind, along with the doll’s all-consuming glare. Then, taking a deep
breath, he grabbed his cane and climbed to his feet.
If he hurried, he could make it to his car before Shomes got too far away.
Beneath the Powerpuff Girls’ suburban home, tucked away in the silo where they kept the
D.Y.N.A.M.O, Buttercup sat with her legs and arms crossed, her brow furrowed and a scowl
on her face. She had no way of knowing just how much time had passed. Even this far down,
she could feel something shaking the city above and feared the worst. Bubbles and Blossom
were still nowhere to be found and, as much as she tried to focus, she couldn’t keep her
thoughts from wandering to dark places.
“Buttercup.” The Professor’s voice was steady, cutting through the cacophony in her head
and bringing her back to the present, “What’s wrong, honey?”
Buttercup sighed and reached for the sword again. Grabbing the grip and the scabbard, she
gave it another tug. Just like before, it refused to budge.
“I don’t know what to do!” She resisted the urge to throw the sacred artifact, instead setting it
down on the ground and digging her hands into her hair. “Why won’t it just let me use it? I’m
made from it, aren’t I?”
The Professor nodded.
“That’s right. I used shavings from the sword as part of the Chemical X formula. The same
magical power that is contained within the blade also lives on in you. Wielding it is your
destiny.” Taking a deep breath, the Professor closed his eyes. He released the breath and
shook his head. “But that’s all that I know. Everything else would just be speculation on my
part.”
He hoped that the quiet surroundings would be helpful for getting Buttercup’s thoughts
quieted, but the moment they took their seats, the hotline rang. Soon after, earthquakes shook
the silo and disturbed every attempt at calm breathing exercises and meditation they tried.
If his intuition was correct, then they were out of time. But if they were out of time,
Buttercup's ability to wield the sword was more important than ever. Even with the clarity the
mountain brought him, he was still a man in his late forties and she was a little girl born with
the power of a goddess. The one truth he knew for sure was there was no way he could ever
relate to what she was going through.
“I just don’t get it…” Buttercup sighed in defeat, staring down at her fists, “I’m stronger than
I was last night. Why isn’t that enough?”
The Professor opened his eyes and brought his fingers to his chin. “You are? What makes you
say that?”
“Cuz I’m definitely more than a bathtub now,” Buttercup muttered without thinking,
swinging her fist and marveling at how effortlessly it soared through the air. She climbed to
her feet and took a few practice swings, slipping her punches around the dust particles
floating in the air. Before the air pressure from her own attacks reached them, her mitt snaked
out, snatching them from the air. Three bursts of pressure clapped the air in front of her as she
sat back down.
“A bathtub?” The Professor’s eyes widened, a bewildered look on his face. As far as he was
aware, none of the girls should have been that far along. He didn’t even know that the girls
had broken the first seals, let alone the second. “Buttercup, when did that happen?”
Buttercup shrugged without looking up from her mitts.
“We got to level two fightin’ Mojo’s robot. I didn’t even know we were past level one, but
after seeing Blossom fight Princess, I’d say me and Bubbles got to at least as strong as her,
and she knew she was a bathtub.”
The Professor shook his head. “That…doesn’t make sense. There’s not been any event that
should have pushed you girls through any of your seals. Maybe Mojo’s machine, but…” He
shook that train of thought from his mind, instead choosing to focus on the present, “You said
you’re stronger now? You broke through another seal?”
Buttercup nodded, “Yeah, totally. I feel stronger just sitting here than I felt when I woke up
this morning.” Her brow furrowed again, “Huh…”
“What happened this morning, Buttercup?” The Professor asked. The little girl’s eyes grew
distant, drifting to her mitts.
“We had a dream,” Buttercup murmured, seeming not to have heard the Professor’s question.
Instead, her thoughts raced through the night before, “It was awful…Bubbles had the same
dream, too.”
“When I woke up, I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I went downstairs and put the Danger Grid
on auto-level and just started fighting.”
“...ercup, you know better! …too dangerous…not tested yet…could have been hurt or
worse…”
The rest of the world fell silent, leaving Buttercup with only her memories. There were no
pictures in her mind, no sounds, just feelings that she couldn’t quite reach. She remembered
pain — in her body and in her heart — beating down on her for hours. No matter how fast
she moved, she couldn’t escape it. No matter how hard she punched, she couldn’t knock it
away.
She didn’t remember any of the monsters she fought, or any of the crises she thwarted. A
thick fog obscured her memories of the previous night. Only those feelings were clear:
despair, helplessness, anger…
Hatred
Hatred that made her thoughts go blank and her heart pound.
Why didn’t I stop her?
Hatred that made her muscles harden and her blood flow like lightning.
Why didn’t I try harder?
Hatred like an uncontrollable thunderstorm, raging beneath her skin and through her veins.
Why am I so weak?
Hatred that plunged the world into a surging emerald haze.
“BUTTERCUP!”
The little girl looked up, her father’s voice finally reaching her. She was on her feet, her body
crackling with electricity. Her fists were shaking; she was snarling. Green smothered her
vision. She needed to fight. She needed to punch. She needed to win.
Forcing back a growl, Buttercup knelt down and snatched the sword. She gripped it with all
of her strength and tugged the scabbard, but it rattled and refused.
“JUST LET ME SAVE HER!” This time she couldn’t stop herself from throwing it to the
ground, embedding it up to the hilt in the floor.
“Buttercup.”
Through the haze, she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. Gentle, but holding her tight. A
firmness she could barely feel. She raised her head and stared into his eyes. Her gaze pierced
deep into his soul.
The electricity singed his skin, but he refused to pull away.
Screwing her eyes shut, Buttercup slid to her knees, grabbing the Professor’s hand with both
of hers. Tears trickled down her cheeks, crackling and turning to steam.
“Why am I so useless? I’m supposed to be strong. I’m supposed to be the toughest. Why
can’t I use the stupid sword?” Her voice cracked. Her shoulders shook from a barely
restrained sob.
“You aren’t useless, sweetie.” Ms. Keane said, hobbling over to the pair and lowering herself
carefully to the ground. She laid her hand on Buttercup’s other shoulder, flinching when the
Powerpuff’s energy shocked her, but not pulling away, “You’re just angry. And scared. And
there is nothing wrong with that.”
“I can’t be scared. Not when they need me. Blossom wouldn’t be scared. Bubbles isn’t
scared. She’s out there fighting already!”
“It’s okay to be afraid, Buttercup. Don’t you remember what I taught you?” The Professor
asked, “Bravery is doing what you’re afraid to do. What are you afraid of now?”
“Letting them down again.” The words came tumbling out. Buttercup trembled and wiped
her eyes. “I couldn’t stop them from leaving. What if…what if I’m too late again? What if
I’m not strong enough? And I just…whenever I think about that, I just hate myself so much
for not stopping her.”
The Professor squeezed her shoulder, “Then that is what you have to conquer. That hatred is
why the sword won’t respond to you.”
“It is?”
He nodded, pulling away and shaking his numb hand. “I felt the same thing when I tried to
wield the sword before climbing the mountain. The things that the mountain showed me,
what the spirits made me face…they were the things I hated about my past, about myself. By
accepting those things, by coming to peace with them, that is how I was deemed worthy.”
Buttercup sat back on her heels and looked down at the sword. Despite the strength she threw
it with, there wasn’t a scratch on it, or a dent in the grip. There was nothing about it that
seemed otherworldly or out of the ordinary, nothing except for the way it refused to yield to
her.
“Tell me about the dream you had.”
Buttercup closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly let it out, “Like I said, me and
Bubbles had the same dream. She was in a flood, and I was in a tornado. We were just getting
tossed around. Everything hurt, everything felt so helpless. But, there were these flower
petals…I just kept reaching for them, but the storm kept blowing me away.”
As she recalled the dream, she felt herself being pulled back into it. She could feel the wind
whipping at her skin, tossing her around. She could feel the lightning and hear the thunder.
Her head spun as she fell into the sky. Then, opening her eyes, she saw the flower petals
caught in the storm.
Gritting her teeth, she reached for them.
Shortly after the darklight appeared above Townsville, the sun over Washington D.C. turned
black. The sky changed from a rich blue to a menacing scarlet. Once fluffy white clouds grew
heavy and gray, blocking out what little light could pass by the sudden eclipse. As silence
descended on Capitol Hill, a call went out and a single star-spangled hero flew out to meet
the threat.
Major Glory had faced countless evils in his lifetime. Some might have been world-ending.
Others threatened the stability and sanctity of the nation he so loved. But, standing in that
unnatural light and staring up at the pitch-black sun, he felt a chill more profound than he
could put into words.
His hands shook; knees threatened to knock. Drawing himself up to his full height, he rose
into the air, humming America the Beautiful and clenching his fists. Nothing moved: no
battle cry, no warning siren, no encroaching evil. The world stood still, holding its collective
breath.
A bolt of red lightning erupted from the black sun and hit the Washington Monument. Dark
roots grew from the ground, crawling up the marble exterior. Within seconds, thorny vines of
black engulfed the structure. They grew thicker and thicker until not a shred of the stone
below remained. Six curved antlers rose out of the top of the black obelisk, followed by twin
flickering flames at the peak. A pair of burning red eyes opened; a sharp-fanged grimace
spread across the creature’s face. The monument creaked and crumbled. The monster
stretched out its arms, grasping the air with its long-clawed fingers.
“ Ah ,” Aku bellowed in a long, breathy groan, “ The seat of this great modern empire. A
fitting location for the new throne of Aku. ”
“You…” Major Glory recognized the beast. It was the demon that had attacked Townsville
two weeks ago. The one that started all this lunacy. The beast, he thought with a nervous
swallow, that not even the Powerpuff Girls could defeat.
The monster turned its gaze toward the floating hero. Its neutral expression curved into a
wide, mean-spirited grin.
“ What have we here? A modern day Herakles, come to challenge the mighty Aku? Ha!
Ha! Ha! ” He folded his arms behind his back and leaned down. He towered over the hero,
his massive form blocking out all sight of the dark sun hanging in the sky. “ Tell me, Hero.
What is it you plan to do that your age’s greatest defenders could not? ”
Fear nestled in Major Glory’s chest, twisting into a knot until it was all he could do to keep
breathing. The monster was more than a hundred feet away, but because of its massive size,
he could feel its breath on his face. Sulfur and brimstone. Suffocating and hot as the flames of
hell. He clenched his fists and tried to will away the terror, but a tremble ran down his spine.
What could he do against a monster that those girls couldn’t beat? He loved to proclaim
himself Earth’s mightiest defender. But, all the connections in the world couldn’t quash the
broadcast from that event two years ago. The world saw them — saw him — beaten down by
the alien mechaniloid. They watched the Powerpuff Girls swoop in to save the day just in
time.
He could bluster and boast all he wanted. Not even the best training in the United States of
America could bridge the gap in power between himself and those tiny titans. There was
nothing he could do that those girls couldn’t.
“ Ba! Ha! Ha! ” Aku’s laugh was like thunder, booming across the city. He spread his arms,
casting a shadow on the White House. “ So, this is your answer? Is this steadfast
determination? Or silent acceptance of your fate? Raise your fist against me and you
shall see that there is no difference. All paths to Aku lead only to destruction! ”
His voice was gone. For once in his life, Major Glory didn’t know what to say. After all, what
could he say? What could he do?
What use was a hero when a goddess had already failed?
“Major Glory!”
“You can do it!”
“Save us, Major Glory!”
The hero turned, his heart seizing in his chest. A group of schoolchildren, no older than third
or fourth grade, huddled behind a bus. A class trip to the Capitol, no doubt. They were there
to see the system of government at work. They were there to gaze in awe at the wheels of
justice turning; to bask in the success of the great American Experiment.
They’d come with nothing but hope for the future. Instead, they found themselves in the
shadow of incomprehensible evil, a villain no hero could ever hope to defeat.
More voices joined those first brave few, calling out his name; crying out for salvation.
‘What am I doing?’ He thought, shaking his head.
“ Very well! If you choose not to decide, then live with your choice! ” Aku drew his hand
back, fingers curling into a fist. With another booming laugh, he brought it crashing down on
the children.
Their screams echoed throughout the silent city. But when they faded, not a single drop of
blood had spilled. Between them and the colossal fist that would have crushed them stood a
hero.
Grunting, Major Glory dug his fingers into the demon’s skin and pushed back with every
ounce of strength he had. Then, when the demon started forcing him back, he dug even
deeper and pushed back with strength even he didn’t know he had. With a roar, he shoved,
tossing the monster’s fist to the side.
What a stupid, selfish coward he was. Instead of fearing what might happen, all he should
have been thinking was, “What will I do?”
Aku pulled his fist back, staring down at Major Glory with an unimpressed glare.
The only thing worse than a hero who failed was a hero who did nothing at all. What would
he do? He would hold the line. He would fight until his dying breath.
Drawing air into his lungs, Major Glory cried out at the top of his lungs, “JUSTICE
FRIENDS, ASSEMBLE! ”
As their fists clashed once more, Bubbles went flying through another building. Faintly, she
acknowledged that the once painful concrete and steel that was now only a pulse. But, as an
exchange took them to another block of the city, an unsettling reality settled in. The strength
of her sapphire fury was no match for Blight’s overwhelming scarlet wrath.
Her thoughts were quiet, save for the rare intrusion. Her body moved without thinking,
dipping and dodging from Blight’s cleaving strikes. But all the speed she could summon was
only enough to keep her ahead of the curve. Never enough to stave off the full assault. Cuts
and scrapes that refused to heal spread along her skin. Bruises that she’d feel weeks later
formed. Her joints ached with every clash of their fists.
No matter how fast or unpredictable she tried to make her movements, she couldn’t land a
solid hit on the monster. It wasn’t that Blight was faster than her — though she certainly was
— it was something else. Whichever way her body moved, Blight was already a step ahead.
She moved as if she could see every movement Bubbles was making, even before the blue
puff could realize she was making them.
Through it all, Blight had not once blinked since the fight began.
Blight’s arm shifted into a blade suddenly, flying toward Bubbles’ unprotected midsection.
While her hips twisted to get out of the way, she could see in slow motion how Blight’s arm
moved to follow her. Just as the tip of the blade prepared to pierce her belly, the monster’s
arm jerked and nicked her side instead. For the briefest moment, Bubbles heard a growl of
frustration.
Using that moment of hesitation, Bubbles drew in a breath and unleashed yet another Ultra-
Super Hypersonic Scream. The surrounding area exploded, and flung the imposter across the
street. Of all the weapons at her disposal, her voice was the one thing she had that could
actually match Blight’s power. Bubbles doubled over and coughed up a mouthful of blood.
Unfortunately, she knew that there were only a few screams left before it was gone.
Bubbles looked up in time to see Blight’s blade coming down at her again. She pushed it
aside, their shoulders slamming together. Digging her feet into the ground, she struggled to
stay on her feet. Cold sweat rolled down her back as Blight took a step forward and pushed
her back.
“This is so embarrassing, the way you keep fighting! Why don’t you just give up like your
sister did?” Though she was grinning, there was a growl and a malice in Blight’s voice that
betrayed her.
Narrowing her eyes and somehow digging even deeper, Bubbles pushed her a step back. “I’ll
never give up on my sister.”
Blight snarled, “She gave up on you.”
“Blossom has never given up on anything!”
Sucking in a breath of air, Blight belched a torrent of fire into the Powerpuff girl’s face,
forcing her to disengage. She stayed on her heel, breathing another wave, then another,
driving her further back.
With a sharp breath of her own, Bubbles blew the flames away. She hissed as her charred
skin struggled to heal. In the briefest blink of her eyes, she felt a movement behind her. Her
body moved, but this time it was too late.
Blight’s claws came down on her back, ripping through her skin and tossing her to the
ground. Lying face down on the busted pavement, Bubbles struggled to breathe. This pain
was unlike everything else she’d endured so far. Burning, like a flame searing a dry piece of
paper. Corrosive, like acid melting through steel. It spread out from the point of impact and
inflamed her nerves. As it spread, something else trickled into her thoughts: a profound,
pervasive darkness.
Hateful whispers, maddening in their urgency.
Weak. Failure. Crybaby. Useless.
Her brain burned as much as her skin. Blood seeped from the open gashes. Her body was
going cold, but her soul sunk into the fire. Drowning in it. Try as she might to fight against it,
the pain was too much to resist. The whispers grew louder. The flames grew hotter, and her
heart grew colder.
“You really are just a baby.” Blight said with a sneer, towering over Bubbles with one hand
on her hip. The other she brought to her lips, licking the blood from her claws. Kneeling
down, she grabbed Bubbles by her hair, pulling her face out of the dirt. Her grin grew sharper
as she leaned in and lowered her voice, “Do you want to know a secret? You were never
hardcore. You were never anything special.”
Her grip tightened and her eyes burned brighter.
“You remember how proud you were of beating Danger Level 11 all by yourself? You
remember how Blossom pretended to be sooo impressed with you?” Blight chuckled,
whispering, “She was lying. She just didn’t want to embarrass you two failures by telling you
she’d already beaten it a month earlier. You weren’t hardcore then, you aren’t hardcore now.
You’re just the bare minimum.” Her grin became a scowl. “You aren’t the perfect little girl: I
am!”
She smashed Bubbles’ face into the ground, grinding it into the dirt.
“Now, do the first useful thing of your worthless little life and die.”
Blight rose to her feet and extended her claws. Drawing them back slowly, her gaze turned
wild, her rose-red irises swirling and stormy. Her hand trembled, but with a roar, she prepared
to bring it down.
The swing never finished. Instead, a crackling bat of dark blue energy crashed into the side of
Blight’s head. And although the impact did little to faze her, her expression changed ever-so-
slightly. Her grimace returned and with a growl, she took a swing at Boomer. Her fist crashed
into a shimmering green dome. Its surface quivered beneath the weight of her attack.
Butch narrowed his eyes and tried to push back.

Blight sneered and put her back into the swing. Bringing her fist crashing through the shield,
she drove Butch to the ground. Pulling her hand free, she morphed it into a blade and turned
to take a swing at Boomer. Before she could, a glowing red fist crashed into her cheek.
Her eyes blazing, her mouth twitching, Blight forced a smile. She turned the weight of her
glare on Brick, pushing his fist aside effortlessly.
“You little screw-ups have gotten stronger.” She laughed, “You’re only a little more than
insects, but I’ll give you credit. You’re not as weak as you used to be.”
Boomer shot forward, crashing into Blight with a full body tackle. She refused to budge.
Instead, she grabbed him by the hair and snatched Brick by the throat. Then she dragged the
pair of them straight up into the sky.
Picking himself up and out of the ground, Butch leaned over Bubbles. He froze, staring at the
oozing black claw marks on her back. Mitts trembling, he reached out to her, but stopped
when she shook her head.
“I’m f-f-fine.”
“You don’t look f-”
“I’m fine, Butch. H-help them. I’ll c-catch up as soon,” Bubbles choked back a sob, “As soon
as I can.”
If there was one thing that Butch had learned since befriending her, it was to never count the
blue puff out. Bubbles was sweet as sugar and twice as nice. But their time spent training had
made him realize an undeniable truth. All the kindness in the world did nothing to dull her
resolve. He had one too many bruises to prove otherwise.
With a curt nod, he climbed to his feet. His face twitched and his head jerked.
“We’re gonna save your big sis. I promise.” With that, he shot off into the fray in a streak of
dark green.
Despite their bluster and determination, reality sank in after the first strike. The boys were in
over their heads. Even with all three of them attacking together, Blight stood unfazed. Hands
on her hips, she didn’t even bother dodging. She hovered in place and let them wail on her
uninterrupted.
Blight tossed her head back and laughed. “You’re all so pathetic. I thought Bubbles was
weak, but you guys? Hahaha!” Blight caught Brick and Butch’s fists, tossing them aside. She
leaned back, avoiding a strike from Boomer; She kicked him in the stomach and sent him
spiraling higher into the air. “You aren’t even annoying! You’re nothing!”
She crossed her arms and giggled, “But I guess you were always nothing, weren’t you?”
Pushing himself up onto his hands and knees, Brick growled. His arms heated, his skin turned
red. “Ballistic Barrage!”
The boys flew into formation, bouncing around the street, then diving at Blight. Their fists
rained down machine gun blows at full speed.
“You were never a threat to us. The only reason you ever beat us was because we weren’t
taking you seriously. We were too worried,” she sneered saying the word, “about these
worthless humans getting hurt. How does that make you feel? We were your whole reason for
existing. You were born to kill us. But, you? You were nothing to us.”
She tilted her head, avoiding Brick’s fist. “You were just an afternoon adventure. One little
kiss and we never even thought about you again. You were that forgettable.”
All three of the boys reared back, their fists colliding with her face in unison. Struggling to
overcome her insurmountable defense, Brick felt something inside of him snap. His cheeks
were hot and his body trembling.
“Do you ever shut up? Yap, yap, yap, that’s all you do!” Steam rose from his arms.
Her eyes narrowed. “Do you want me to start hitting back?”
His mouth moved faster than his brain.
“You’re gonna fight back now? Or are you gonna keep crying like you did in class?” He
noticed the flames in her eyes grow darker. Despite his better judgment, seeing her fazed at
all encouraged him to continue, “Oh, I get it. That was you, wasn’t it? You’re the lame little
crybaby who couldn’t handle a joke, aren’t you?” Now it was his turn to lean back and laugh.
“I should have known! Blossom can take a joke, but not you. You’re too w-”
Brick caught the sight of Blossom’s eyes turning red. But it was only thanks to Butch and
Boomer tackling him that he avoided her heat rays. Tumbling through the air, the trio
watched the beams rip through everything in their path. A simple sweep from right to left.
When they faded, the city skyline was gone. Completely gone. Not even the destruction
caused by the last two weeks of fighting had been so devastating. Every bit of work they’d
poured their hearts and souls into in the last week, gone with a simple shake of her head.
Clenching his mitts, he could only hope they hadn’t missed getting anyone to safety. Lifting
his head, he saw her towering over them. The darklight raging around her had grown twice as
large, and even more furious. There was none of the dark amusement left in her gaze.
Nothing stared back at him except pure murderous intent.
“Fine. Die, you little freaks.” A fist appeared in front of Brick’s face. The space between
himself and the ground vanished. Far overhead, he heard the clap of a sonic boom, followed
by the thunderclap of her strike. When the second heavy blow came down, he still hadn’t
processed that he’d been struck. His body was only starting to recognize the pain when her
third strike collided with Butch’s shield.
The blow shattered his brother’s invincible barrier. Her hand shot out. Snatching Butch’s
shirt, she pulled him into an earth-shattering haymaker. Boomer appeared, reaching out to pry
her away from the duo. Her claws reached out, snatching his face and smashing it into the
ground.
As the blinding pain set in, Brick willed his body to move. Sucking air into his lungs, he tried
something new, something he’d only been on the receiving of until the moment. He
screamed, a supersonic bellow bursting from his lips. It caught the imposter off guard and
drew her attention away from his brothers. Just long enough for them to regroup.
But there wasn’t time to catch their collective breaths before she was on them again. With all
her playful malice gone, Blight was a whirlwind of ripping claws, fire and lightning. Carving
a path between herself and the ruffs, she refused to give them a moment to rest.
Her claws sliced the air so fast that a screeching whistle trailed behind her every movement.
Bursts of delayed pressure from her punches littered the broken streets in craters. The air
crackled with electricity. The temperature rose with every breath of fire she breathed at them.
Were it not for Butch’s shield, the boys wouldn’t have lasted more than a minute under her
concentrated fury. His skin split and peeled, carved apart by the constant shattering of his
shield. His vision was all but gone, lost in a white-hot fog of anguish. Instead, he focused on
listening for his brother’s voices, putting up his shield, and then throwing himself in front of
them.
He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep his legs moving, but he moved them anyway.
With every breath knocked from his lungs, he forced another to take its place. With every
bone he felt crack and splinter, he grit his teeth and steeled his nerves. And when he felt his
shield flickering, he beat his chest and raised it again.
He deflected yet another strike. And then he heard a whistle approaching his face, passing
through the shards of his broken shield. A blinding hot pain split the left side of his face,
carving from his chin up through his eye.
The one mercy was that the shock hit him so hard and so fast that he was unconscious before
he could even suffer.
“BUTCH!” Boomer rushed in, conjuring up an energy bat and swinging it at the imposter
with all his might. It collided with her open palm, then shattered as she clenched her fist.
“You traitor…I trusted you. I thought you were my FRIEND!” Blight’s hatred raged around
her, forcing Boomer back a step.
“Blossom’s my friend, not you! That’s why I’m gonna beat you!”
“That’s why you’re going to DIE!” Blight’s hand swept through the air, electricity crackling
around her fingers. As her palm leveled with him, lightning exploded from her hand. It
crashed into his chest and sent him flying back like a rag doll. He hit the ground and lay
unmoving, save for the occasional twitch of his electrified muscles.
Growling, Blight turned her attention to the last of the Rowdyruff Boys.
“I told you…you are nothing.”
Brick stumbled to his feet, his upper body on fire. His shirt burnt away, his skin turning
crimson. The fury he felt watching his brothers fall wasn’t enough. Deep, deep down, he
knew it. He had accepted the truth when they fought the Infernal Machine. As strong as they
were, what Blight was saying was right. They were no match for the Powerpuff Girls.
But, even knowing that, he couldn’t help but smirk and wipe the blood from his mouth with
the back of his hand.
“I’m still standing, ain’t I? You think I’m scared of you? You ain’t the one who killed me.
You’re just a lame, edgy knock-off. A fake.” Brick spat and looked her dead in the eye.
“You’re the one who’s nothing. The real Blossom woulda beat me by now.”
Like before, he couldn’t even perceive her reaching him. One moment she was several feet
away, the next, she was holding his arm in her hand, claws digging into his skin. Before he
could even panic, she squeezed and his arm shattered.
Blight tossed him to the ground, blood dripping from her hand. Her bloody fingers fused
together, forming a dripping black blade. The darklight around her flared. Her arm raised.
“You stole everything from me! THEY WERE MINE!” With a roar, she brought her blade
down. The ground buckled and shattered; blood splattered the pavement. Blight’s eyes
widened. Her rose-red irises flickered a flash of pink.
“Why?”
Bubbles stood in front of Brick, her arm upraised, Blight’s blade embedded in her arm down
to the bone. The wound was the length of her forearm, blood pouring from it in thick, red
rivers. There was no fear, no confusion in her glowing eyes. Only determination.
“Because,” she hissed out through gritted teeth, “he’s my friend.”
The storm raging around Blight condensed for a second. Then, as she screamed, it erupted,
growing until it filled the street. Debris vaporized. Telephone poles tore from the ground.
Abandoned cars turned to slag.
“Get out of my way, Bubbles! You’re my sister, not his!”
Bubbles pushed back against the monster’s blade, forcing her back a step. There was barely
anything left of Blossom in the monster’s voice. Bubbles peered through the gale of chaos
and saw petals of pink struggling to brave the storm in Blight's wrathful eyes.
“You aren’t my sister. He’s right. You are a fake.” She narrowed her eyes and took another
step forward. “Give. Blossom. Back.”
Blight screamed again, pushing back. But Bubbles refused to move. The storm shocked her
skin and singed her hair. But she held on, knowing that the one thing she couldn’t do was
falter, even for a moment.
“ FINE! PICK HIM! DIE WITH HIM! DIE WITH ALL OF THEM! ”
To Bubbles’ surprise, Blight pulled away. Her relief was short-lived, though, as Blight
rocketed into the sky. After becoming a blazing rose-red dot on the horizon, the darklight
around her began growing. The little girl’s eyes widened, her mouth falling open. Within
seconds, the evil energy had expanded, growing until it looked like a second sun in the sky.
Then it continued growing, twice as large, then three times as large. Large enough to cast a
burning shadow over the entire city of Townsville.
With an earsplitting cry, Blight brought her arms down.
Bubbles’ thoughts were silent as she braced her feet against the ground. The planet below
shook as she shot upward. She had no plan. Her body simply moved on its own, into the path
of the descending sphere of complete and utter annihilation. She flew higher and higher,
straight into the eye of the storm.
Then, with her arm still bleeding and her back still crying out in agony, she thrust her mitts
out.
Pressure. Unfathomable pressure weighed down on her. Heat. More heat than any star in the
cosmos flooded her senses. Her pale skin charred; her golden hair burned. Pain in its purest,
most primal form replaced every sensation she had ever known.
The darkness flooded her vision and filled her lungs. Breathing was impossible. Thinking
was impossible. But, even if her thoughts were droning white noise, her body knew. It knew
that she was drowning. It knew that this was too much, and that she was too weak.
There was no strength she could call upon to stop its descent.
There was no hope or willpower that could push it away.
Nothing could stop the storm that her sister’s hatred had unleashed. She was gone. Washed
away by a power more ancient and evil than any of them could comprehend.
I have to save her.
No. That was the lie it wanted her to believe. A lie the monster had to keep saying because it
wanted to hide the truth. Blossom wasn’t gone.
I have to believe in her.
It wasn’t hopeless. It hadn’t won yet. Somewhere, deep inside, Blossom was still there.
That’s why the imposter kept insisting that she wasn’t. She wanted Bubbles to give up; she
wanted all of them to give up on her.
If I don’t…
The pink petals in the flood of fire. She couldn’t pretend she didn’t see it. She couldn’t ignore
all the ways her sister was crying out for someone to save her.
Then who will?
How many times had Blossom saved her? How many hopeless situations had her sister held
on? How often did she carry all the weight and responsibility of victory? When giving up was
the easier option? When no one would have blamed her for it?
Blossom had never given up. Not once in her entire life.
“I will never ever let anyone take you away from me again, Bubbles.”
“Do you promise?”
“I promise.”
Bubbles forced her eyes open, streams of light poured out of her baby blue irises. Beneath her
skin, she felt something else within the sapphire flames of hatred and anger. Deep within her,
there was an ocean, one that she’d forgotten. One she didn’t know how to reach anymore. But
one that was there all the same.
She wasn’t strong enough to push it away. But all this power had to go somewhere. And, if it
had come from a Powerpuff girl…then surely it could go back to a Powerpuff girl. Bubbles
drew in a deep breath, then imagined how it felt to project energy from her body. The way her
eyes stung as the heat erupted from her pupils. The way her skin tingled as the pent up energy
in her body fired from her mitts.
She imagined it going in reverse, pulling instead of pushing. At first, there was nothing at all,
only the pressure of the death ball forcing her closer to the ground. But, as she imagined
sucking the power inward — imagined it plunging it into that vast ocean inside of her — she
felt something change.
The numbness in her hands was fading. Her skin was tingling. Peering through burnt out
eyes, she swore she could see her hands changing. They were shimmering in her favorite
shade of baby blue. The tingling spread up her arms, across her shoulders, into her chest and
settled in her belly. Swelling, then spilling outward into the rest of her. Gritting her teeth and
clenching her eyes shut, she embraced her sister’s burning feelings instead of pushing them
away.
The world stood silent, watching a storm of black and crimson steal away the sky. The air
shook, the ground quaked, and the end seemed unavoidable in the storm’s wake.
And then the Earth stood still. Held back by a single pinprick of shining sapphire, the storm
began to swirl and shrink. Smaller and smaller until, in an instant that lasted an eternity, it
vanished. Left in the storm’s wake was a single drop of blue.
Brighter than any sun; deeper than any ocean.
A bubble that refused to be washed away.

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Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/35200648.

“What?! You’re back already?”

The Samurai...the Nameless Prince...the forgotten warrior...the greatest hero…

The man who slayed the unstoppable...the immortal Aku.

We learn little from victory…

But much from defeat....

I have learned. Yes...I have learned well.

“What are you?” the scientist whispered, awestruck and inspired.

The time has not yet arrived...but soon...

Soon the world will once again know my name…

Soon, they all shall know Aku...

Through constant monster attacks and bi-monthly conquests by an assortment of supernatural

“What?” Blossom whispered, a knowing lilt to her voice.

Buttercup rolled her eyes and turned to the front.

“We’re not fighting,” the pair replied in unison.

Bubbles giggled and nodded, “Good.”

“Alright! It’s about time!” Buttercup cheered.

“Here, Ms. Keane, you can have this!” Bubbles insisted.

“It is my machine that will break you!”

A war machine made entirely from the metal was a nightmare.

Blossom laughed and turned to Buttercup with an incredulous smirk.

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

Upward into the sun. Upward into the blood.

“I do have a plan,” she whispered, her confidence soaring.

It had to become stronger, and it had to drink more of that blood.

“Hypersonic Shriek on my mark!”

“What’s the plan, Red?”

“Very well, Powerpuff Blossom! AS YOU WISH!”

The air in front of the cannon shimmered.

The air in front of the cannon sparked.

The air in front of the cannon released a deafening crack.

With each drop of energy consumed, the creature began to think.

That’s when it tasted the blood.

Two flames erupted from the surface of the sludge.

“It makes us sick…” she moaned.

“What the? Flying children?”

“We’re the Powerpuff Girls!” Bubbles continued.

“There are no monsters like me!”

Something was different.

“You got a plan, Red?”

“Scatter into Gamma Alpha Golf Adam!”

Blossom’s eyes narrowed; an outline of burning hot pink surrounded her.

His grin never left his face.

It was the same blood.

His voice broke the spell on her.

“G-girls! Girls don’t worry, Daddy's here!”

That beast had called itself Aku.

And the Professor knew how to stop it.

“Bye, Ms. Keane!” a cheerful voice called out.

“Hello?” he answered, his voice tired and low.

“James? How are they? Is everything alright?”

“It’s um...it’s James. James Utonium.”

His heart skipped a beat when she snorted and giggled.

“James, don’t be silly.”

When she remained silent, he continued, stumbling over his words.

“What’s the equation, James?”

“You cannot hope to defeat Aku, child.”

She was laughing.