Puff Most Epic Ch. 2 P. 8

Part 8: Circuit Breaker

  The forecast called for a very favorable day. The sky was bright, the clouds were lithe and pale, and the wind was cool and slight. Buttercup was unusually calm at that moment, staring through the fissure between the two curtains on the open-air stage. She looked up at the sky, bright and blue; and down at the trees, radiant and green; the people, up and energetic.

  And yet there was that lingering feeling in the crowd of uncertainty that she could just barely feel trickling through the crowd and over center stage, nipping at her feet, sending a chill up her spine. What everyone was uncertain about... well, she could only guess. Being called here out of the blue with barely a week's notice was unnatural and suspicious on its own. And when Miss Bellum refused to divulge any clear details, she knew people would have their doubts.

  But when Miss Bellum did something, she didn't half-ass it. Everything she did or didn't was for a reason.

  The click-clack of Miss Bellum's shoes came into earshot behind her, and she turned, watching her approach, followed by Blossom, Bubbles, and the Professor. Buttercup blinked, astonished when she saw Blossom.

  "...and you both know what you're supposed to say. Short of some kind of disaster, there's no way we can mess this up. You okay?"

  Bubbles looked up at her; prior to that, she had been staring down at the floor, watching her feet and rubbing her hands together nervously as she walked. Her eyes showed obvious fear and anxiety. "I'll be okay." She didn't look it, though.

  Buttercup was still staring at Blossom. She was wearing a new pair of blue jeans and long-sleeve white shirt under a padded pink zip-up vest. She had her hands in her pockets as she walked up to Buttercup with a smile.

  However, it wasn't her clothing that caught her eye. It was... the eye. Her right eye looked... just like her left eye. After a moment, she realized that she was staring.

  "What's up?" Blossom asked her. She flicked the left side of her vest with her pocketed hand. "Like the new outfit?"

  "What—Yeah. Yeah, the... the duds. What's—your eye is—"

  "What, this?" Blossom asked, pointing to her right eye.

  She grabbed hold of her right eye and pulled it out. Buttercup recoiled, but relaxed when she realized that it was just a contact lens made to look like her eye. The robot eye was underneath.

  "Professor made it," Blossom said, rolling it over and looking at it proudly. "To keep it a secret. Looks pretty good, doesn't it?" She put it back in. As she turned her head, it followed the movements of her eye flawlessly.

  Buttercup kept staring at her. "You look... normal." She paused. "Well, normal for us." And yet she was still staring. Eventually, she had to turn her head away; it was too much. "Geez," she chuckled, fixing her eyes blankly at the far end of the stage. "I was just getting used to it..."

  Blossom contained her laughter and patted her on the shoulder. Buttercup looked back at her in surprise. "It's okay. Normal or not, I'm Blossom, she's Bubbles and, you're Buttercup... we're the Powerpuff Girls. No matter what."

  Buttercup released a breath she didn't remember holding, and smiled.

  Miss Bellum stepped up to them with an air of complete professionalism now. "All right, girls, time for me to go on. Buttercup, you're on standby."

  Buttercup stepped aside for Miss Bellum as she deftly passed through the curtain, barely making it ripple as she moved between the two folds. The audience applauded her.

  Buttercup stared out into the crowd between the gap in the curtains.

  So many people...

  In a few minutes, that would be her stepping out to face them.

  Miss Bellum was used to it, but she... well, she wasn't. Already, the applause came through like a roar, and she let go of the curtain and backed away.

  A thud at her back. She turned her head and met eyes with the Professor. He smiled wanly at her. "Don't worry, Buttercup. We're here for you. Are you ready?"

  She turned her eyes askance, focusing on nothing. She had been thinking about what to say, and had come up with a lot, but it was really a lot of nothing. It didn't sound good, even to her, and she knew she would mess it up if she tried to make it better on the spot. She was aware of the news helicopters flying overhead, the sheer volume of the audience, the cameras and microphones, listening to every word said, watching her every movement. The loudspeakers were already broadcasting Miss Bellum's dulcet voice to the crowd: "Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you for taking the time off to join me on this red-letter day to honor the return of our city's most prized superheroes."

  She looked up at Bubbles, face completely covered in sweat, staring at the floor; and at Blossom, who nodded encouragingly, knowing full well the situation Buttercup was in. She grimaced, but looked into the Professor's eyes. "I think so."

  He smiled weakly. "Well... just do your best."

  She nodded, and faced the curtain, steeling herself. She heard Miss Bellum talking through the speaker. It was her cue.



  Just days earlier, they had all stood before Miss Bellum, who seemed not just surprised but downright shocked at the sight of the redhead standing ever-so timidly behind the Professor's legs, clutching them for the merest of support. If they had been able to see the Mayor's eyes behind that thick head of hair... they would be bulging, wouldn't they? Buttercup could only imagine what they looked like right now. She could see her mouth agape, but nothing more.

  Bellum just stared at them; she hadn't moved. She was frozen.

  Buttercup glanced over her shoulder. Blossom stared back at her uncertainly.

  She looked up, at the Professor, who stared back impassively.

  Bubbles' eyes darted quickly between Buttercup and Bellum and Blossom.

  She looked back at Miss Bellum, who still hadn't moved.

  She knew there was a word for this situation, but she didn't know what it was.

  Miss Bellum blinked, and seemed to regain some of her senses. She pointed an angry index finger at him; a stern tone tying her voice in knots. "Professor! You told me you would not bring her back!"

  He seemed taken aback. "I—I didn't!"

  "She's dead," she shouted. "You've desecrated her memory with this despicable act! I can't even look at you," she finished, turning away.

  Blossom sighed and came out from behind her father's legs. "He's not lying, Miss Bellum. It's really me."

  She scoffed, tears in her eyes. "You're not Blossom. You're a copy. The real Blossom died... the real Blossom was... she was so beautiful... and whole... and wonderful..."

  Blossom paused, and then took a step forward. "You remember, don't you?"

  Sara swallowed hard. The girls could hear her heart beating faster.

  "You remember my death. You remember it so well because that would be the easier answer. It would keep what I was locked away. That image could be perfect. So unlike what I am, right now."

  Buttercup looked from Miss Bellum to Blossom. She was surprised by the conviction in Blossom's eyes—even the robotic eye looked somehow stronger as she spoke.

  "Miss Bellum... I didn't die. Think for a moment about how I could change. I looked up to you, you know. We were that alike. I loved you for your brilliance, and a day didn't go by that I didn't try to be like you in my resolve as I was like you in my looks. I remember you looking at me, and I had a sense of pride because we could both see each other as heroes. Both of us super, amazing, in our own ways. You remember what I was. Try. Try to imagine what I could be."

  Sara's eyes widened. She muttered, "No... it's just... not possible."

  "Please. Just imagine that Blossom didn't die. Just for a moment. How would she change? How could she not? How could you not let her?"

  The Mayor was crying silently now, tears dripping onto the hem of her skirt as Blossom walked up to her, and pressed warm hands to her own.

  "Look at me."

  Miss Bellum hesitated, but obliged, raising red curls to red strings. She blinked at her tears. "Your eye..."

  Blossom gently lifted Miss Bellum's hands and placed them over her face. Sara blinked and moved her fingers. The right eye felt hard, like metal. The other was normal, which meant...

  She pulled her hands back, and Blossom opened her eyes. The red light from the fake eye greeted her, and she jerked back from it.

  "If Blossom didn't die. If I didn't die. I would have grown. And I might have suffered. But suffering isn't dying."

  Bellum stared from one eye to the other, and finally looked away. She stayed silent for a while, and Blossom seemed to be waiting for her to speak. Finally, "Blossom."

  They all smiled as Bellum hugged her for a long moment.

  "How is this possible?"

  Blossom sighed. "When it comes to evil, Mojo's capable of anything."

  Bellum looked up, and then at Blossom in horror, all of the implications hitting her at the same time.

  Blossom took a step back, and dropped her arms to her sides. Then with a shrug, "So what do we do?"

  She was quiet for a little while. "First," she began, "you tell me everything."

  Buttercup threw her head back. "Not again."



  She had opted to stare into space. She didn't want to sit through the entire explanation again, but she was stuck there, shifting her posture and staring at the wall, the clock, Bubbles, Professor, anything she could think of to keep her mind and sight off of Miss Bellum and Blossom.

  "In Mojo's underg... experiment with my... dissolved... in the cockpit... and then Buttercup..." She didn't bother keeping track of what they were talking about. She was listening every so often to see if they were done, but it was a while till they ended. She yawned, and rubbed her eyes.

  She eventually looked over, and saw that Blossom had finished. Bellum looked a little green.

  Finally, she spoke. "Is... everything you just told me the truth, Blossom?"

  Blossom nodded.

  "There's not... even one thing you'd change... or say differently?"

  She shook her head.

  She made a face. "Well then I doubt Townsville is going to believe all of it."

  Blossom craned her head to the side. "Why not?"

  She raised her eyebrows. "Because they're... well... stupid."

  Buttercup tried to stifle a snicker and failed.

  Blossom didn't comment.

  Miss Bellum continued. "I guess the only thing we can do is try to get it through to them. It probably won't be easy, and we've got a lot to do between now and then."

  Blossom looked up at her, courageously, and with purpose in her eyes. "What do you need me to do?"

  But Miss Bellum dashed that purpose. "You need to say hidden. You can't be seen before the ceremony."

  She sighed. "I guess you've got a—ceremony?"

  Sara simply smiled.



  Professor and Miss Bellum were organizing the Event, to which Buttercup had initially thought that there would be no need for her to do anything. She soon found out that she was mistaken. "You want me to what?"

  Professor waved his hand dismissively. "It doesn't have to be long. Miss Bellum will call you on and—"

  "Whoa. Whoa whoa whoa. Hey. Hold on." Buttercup held up her hands defensively and took a few steps back. "You can't ask me to make a speech!"

  He leaned forward in his chair and put a nurturing hand on her shoulder. "We just need you to bring the crowd up to speed with what has been going on. Just from the point where you woke up from your coma. You'll do fine," he added reassuringly.

  She swallowed hard and adjusted the shoulder straps of her dress and rubbed her forearms. "Do I have to?"

  He sighed, and sat back. "Well... we'd like you to."

  She looked at the floor. "...I'll think about it."



  The phone rang. Professor answered.

  "Oh, good morning, Honey. How did you sleep last night?"

  He was talking to Blossom. She was staying at Miss Bellum's. She had no doubts that the two of them were having a great time catching up since the last time they had seen one another.

  "Well that's good," he was saying. "Is Miss Bellum up yet? I see. Well, after you two have breakfast, can you have her give me a call back? Thank you. I love you, Blossom." After a moment: "Haha, and I'll never get tired of saying it."

  Bubbles looked at Buttercup. She was nearly trembling, the first vestiges of tears forming at her eyes. She realized, and then blinked the tears back, and skewered several pieces of french toast with her fork and shoved them into her mouth.

  Bubbles frowned sadly, and then turned back to her plate of food, and took another bite.



  Town hall; the last preparations before the big day, Bellum and Buttercup stood on the stage.

  "I'll call you out, and you'll wave to the crowd, and then you start your speech. You didn't write one down, did you?" Buttercup shook her head. "Well that's fine. You just need to talk about, you know, 'I was in a coma and then I woke up and beat the robot, and after that I found Bubbles.' But I need you to prepare them for her... arms. Can you do that?"

  Buttercup's face was expressionless. She blinked, and finally said, "I think so."

  Miss Bellum stared back at her strangely and then shrugged. "Well, you have time to think about what you say, just make sure that it's not going to be some kind of ramble, okay?"

  "Uh... yeah." She looked down at the floor.

  Bellum gave a wan smile. "Listen... Buttercup," she began. "I know you're nervous. You don't like public speaking. It's something of a weakness of yours." Buttercup looked like she was hurt by the remark, but Sara held up her hand to hold her words back. "It's all right. We've all got weaknesses, even me. I'm not perfect." Buttercup made a face. "No, I'm not," she emphasized with a terse smile. "The point is, you're gonna do fine. Just relax, practice speaking to the crowd between now and then and think about what you're going to say, but don't think too hard. It's not as important as you think it is. And if you need help, I'll be right there, okay?"

  Buttercup took a deep breath, and then let it out. "Okay."

  She smiled and relaxed. "Good."

  Buttercup bit her lip and looked away for a moment. When she looked back, she asked, "Can I... go see her?"

  Miss Bellum looked astonished. "You thought you needed my permission?"

  Buttercup held her head and groaned, "Yeah. I did."



  The local and network stations gathered early to set up and test their equipment. Buttercup didn't really count them, but there had to be more than a hundred reporters and crew members to broadcast the whole event. People from all over the country vied for the best places in the crowd, setting up microphones, cameras, teleprompters, and made sure they were hooked up.

  Ralph lifted the camera to his shoulder, and sized up the shot, stepping to the left and back just a little. "We're live. Prompt should be in about ten seconds. Ready?"

  He nodded to the cameraman, and waited, listening for the "Go" in his earpiece.

  "Thanks, Kris! Well, we're here, at the Townsville Town Hall Outdoor Auditorium, awaiting the announcement by Mayor Sara Bellum. Apparently, there are details from the destruction of the robotic menace known as the Khagan, Dragoon, or Tektite from two weeks ago that need to come to light and Mayor Bellum has gathered us here for that reason. No further details have been released, but according to our sources, Bubbles and Buttercup are going to be making an appearance as well. We'll just have to wait and—" He glanced over his shoulder as he heard the thundering applause from the crowd. "—Mayor Sara Bellum has just taken the stage, let's get a closer look." Soon, he faded off, replaced by a shot just off from the stage, as Bellum walked out and addressed the crowd.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you for taking the time off to join me on this red-letter day to honor the return of our city's most prized superheroes. Buttercup and Bubbles Utonium. The Powerpuff Girls."

  The crowd applauded, for this was good news.

  "As you know, Buttercup was in a coma from her last fight, and was still unconscious when her sister was kidnapped. When I heard Buttercup had regained consciousness, I knew in my heart that she would find her and bring her back, safe and sound. And she delivered."

  Once again, the crowd applauded.

  "And, good citizens, Buttercup has said that she would like to come here today, and tell us what she found after her climactic battle. And so, without further ado, Miss Buttercup Utonium." She clapped her hands with the now-thundering crowd, and stepped aside.



  And as she stepped onto the stage, she blinked away the sunlight and stared into the gathering. Some people applauded with respect and pride, others stared back at her with eyes of mistrust or anger. Her eyes went from eye to eye reading the expressions. Finally, she took her place at the podium, cheeks red.

  The thumping of her heart, the roar of the crowd, the heat of the sun, the sweat on her brow...

  It was an overpowering wave, the feeling of being completely insignificant, and she would have begun to tear up if she didn't know that everyone was staring at her. She pinched the skin of her arm behind the podium, hard. She tensed up and held herself frozen, but made no indication that it was painful. Quickly, sensation erased emotion, and she felt ready. She adjusted the microphone, cleared her throat and finally spoke.

  "Good morning, everyone. I'm glad I could be here. Being in a coma... well, I don't even know. I might as well have just been in a really deep sleep, you know? Uh..." She swallowed hard. "After I woke up and heard that Bubbles was missing... I began looking, and found that... that robot... on the way. Taking it down... was tough, but I had something really important to me on the line, you know? I already lost one sister, and I sure as hell didn't want lose another. I didn't... want to be alone. I guess... no one does."



  Professor glanced at Bubbles. They were watching the live news feed, listening to Buttercup's words, and Bubbles was crying. "Bubbles? Are you all right?"

  She sniffled and sobbed, "She... really loves me?"

  Blossom smiled, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "She always loved you. She loves all of us. She's just... embarrassed to let us know."

  "Hm." They looked at the Professor. He covered his chin and spoke into his hand. "I did it again, didn't I?"




  Buttercup took a breath, and sighed, and looked at Miss Bellum.

  Miss Bellum smiled and nodded encouragingly.

  She cleared her throat again. "I guess the most important part about that day was that... once the thing was destroyed... I found her. I found Bubbles."

  The audience applauded weakly.

  She went on. "Bubbles... she wasn't..." She faltered. "I mean, she was... uhh..." She groaned in embarrassment and looked at Miss Bellum pleadingly.

  Miss Bellum leaned next to her, her hand on the mike, and whispered in her ear, then stepped back. Buttercup nodded, and cast her eyes down at the podium, then up at the crowd. She felt uneasy, but she steeled herself.

  "I guess the best way to say it is... Bubbles... had... been experimented on."

  There were horrified gasps from the crowd.

  "She's all right... mostly, but... she's not... really the same. I need you all to look at her now, for the person she is, and not for... well, you get the idea."

  Miss Bellum's lips curved down slightly, and Buttercup happened to glance at her just in time to see it. She shrugged at her, and Miss Bellum glanced at the crowd, and then shrugged as well, and jerked her head towards the curtain. She glanced over and then nodded before returning her attention to the crowd. "So, uh... may I re-introduce... my sister, Bubbles."

  The audience applauded hesitantly, and the curtain was still for a while, so the applause slowly died down to a murmur. Buttercup looked at Bellum, and then took a step hesitantly towards the curtain.

  And then she saw a featureless hand slide into view.

  She stopped and waited, as the hand slid further into view, followed by an arm, and then by Bubbles, poking her head out.

  Her eyes were red with all too familiar shame from her fear. At the same time, however, a hint of Bubbles' ever-present and pressing sense of duty—and maybe even some flicker of courage, but Buttercup couldn't be sure—slipped out of her eyes, and finally, she wandered all the way into view, holding on to the edge of the curtains timidly.

  The audience's silence was tense, but was broken when an old woman in the front row began clapping for her, followed by more of the crowd, until finally the crowd was roaring with the applause she so desperately needed just then.

  Buttercup saw Blossom's hand tap her sister on the shoulder. She looked back, and then at the crowd, and then down at the stage. She clenched her eyes shut.

  One metal arm pulled itself through the curtain and took a position in front and to the right of Bubbles, eliciting a strong gasp from the crowd. But she knew Bubbles wouldn't, couldn't stop there. Another arm came to the left side to mirror the right one, and then Bubbles lifted herself off the stage, and into the air, supported by all four of her robotic arms as they carried her forward, her eyes closed and her arms out, and Buttercup imagined that she looked very much like a blue angel right now. She looked out into the crowd.

  They were horrified.



  Robin's wide eyes were locked on the television screen. The spoon slipped from her fingertips, splashing into the bowl of cereal and milk.

  "Bubbles..." She went sad. "Why didn't you tell me? I'm your friend. I could have helped—" She stopped. How would she have helped? What could she do? Would just being there be enough? She had no idea what Bubbles was going through. Maybe she would have made it worse. She groaned, and sat back, taking another spoonful into her mouth.

  She watched the silent crowd on her screen. "Why isn't anybody saying anything?"



  Oh dammit, she cursed inwardly. Not one face in the crowd looked anything less than afraid. She should have known this wasn't a good idea. Any minute now they would run screaming, she could feel it...

  "Oh, my goodness."

  Buttercup cast her eyes to the source of the voice. The old woman who had started the applause before fell to her knees. She was crying now, and rubbing her eyes.

  Through her sobs, she spoke. "This is... too terrible for words. Who would do such an evil thing to such a beautiful girl?"

  Now murmurs of sympathy started in Bubbles' favor. Buttercup's eyes widened. "Holy crap," she muttered. She watched as Bubbles sunk down to the crowd, her arms keeping her level while she addressed the audience. "I'm back," she said to them, tears in her eyes, smiling, as if she had just come back from a long vacation. "Did you miss me?"

  The audience was a mix of sobs and chuckles, so much that it was hard to tell the two apart. The old lady came to her feet and extended her arms to Bubbles, and they embraced in a very touching spectacle before everyone's eyes. "Oh, Bubbles... Bubbles... We missed you more than you know. And don't you worry," she said as they parted, "we won't judge you."

  Buttercup blinked. She might have missed it if she had been paying a little less attention, but the old woman's tone was one of challenge to anyone who dared mock this girl's plight. Even now, more people gathered around her, offering her words of sympathy and understanding—though too many of them clearly didn't mean it. Buttercup recognized the sad smile on Bubbles' face; she could see right through the words. Bubbles didn't seem upset by it. Real tears were falling.

  After a little while, Miss Bellum nudged Buttercup, and pointed to the microphone. She nodded. They weren't done yet. She grabbed the mike. "Hey... everyone!" She was met by a wave of stares and faltered for just a moment, but leaned back in. "Uh... sorry, but that's not all I have to say."

  Bubbles gave the elder one last hug and pulled herself back onto the stage. Buttercup patted her on the shoulder as she passed, and she stood at the near side of the curtain's part, coiling her arms behind her. Buttercup glanced up at Miss Bellum, who nodded to her, and then to Bubbles, who mirrored Miss Bellum. Buttercup took a breath and held it, facing the crowd. "Going back to when I beat the robot..." She hesitated, but forced herself to continue. "After I destroyed it and started breaking it apart, I found out that the battery for this thing was... a person. There was a human being at the core." She had been told to let this information sink in, and as she paused, there were disgusted grunts and outraged talk amongst the citizens.

  "Yeah, the same person who did this to Bubbles trapped another person. And... I rescued her, and she said she wanted to come out today and tell everyone what happened to her." She clutched the side of the podium and gulped hard.

  "So, here she is."

  The crowed began a procedural applause...

  ...right up until they saw who it was.



  "My God," the reporter said, his voice conveyed by nearly every working radio in Townsville; in each home; in each office; in each car. The broadcast that echoed throughout the city, though delayed by several seconds due to processing the signal. It brayed over the airwaves, and everyone listening was just as startled by the news as the reporter. "Bubbles is back... but she was experimented on by some sort of madman. He gave her... it's terrible... she has metal arms coming out of her back. This is... whoever did this is sick."

  His editorial left unchallenged, he cleared his throat and continued. "She's back. Bubbles is back. Any average citizen knows that this is a boon on our fair city, and furthermore a boon to the Utonium household, and especially their father, Professor Utonium, who we hear is backstage, supporting his girls as any good father should. Buttercup has just told us that there was someone else she found that day. Apparently a girl, being used as a bioelectric core inside the robot another crude twist in this heinous tale of macabre. Buttercup has just called her onstage. I see—"

  A gasp cut short the words on his tongue, and for several seconds and then several more seconds, his stunned silence sizzled through nearly every radio in Townsville; in each home; in each office; in each car; in the sole truck carrying a full tanker of hydrogen fuel that was headed past Town Hall at the exact moment of the radio's broadcast. The stunned silence led to the perfectly astonished, breathless words that stopped all thought across the city...

  "It's... Blossom."



  The diner was packed this afternoon, and Shelly checked the order on the slip. One pepperoni pizza, hand-tossed. She loved doing this. She took a handful of flour and rubbed her hands together. Picking up the dough, she slapped it from hand to hand, then with a twist, tossed it into the air. It spun like a frisbee and stretched. She caught it one-handed, keeping the motion, and threw it into the air once more.

  She wasn't really listening, but she heard, "It's... Blossom."

  She turned sharply. And the next instant, her world was dark and smelled like yeast.  



  "It's... Blossom."

  Professor pursed his lips. Good luck, girls.

  Hands clasped together, his eyes clenched shut, he began to pray, hard. Something... let something happen so the girls are accepted as they are. Something. Anything.



  The wind was cold against her sweaty brow as she stared into the sea of faces before her. She hadn't really been looking forward to this; she was just as nervous as Buttercup. But she put on a smile even as the blush spread across her cheeks, facing the citizens of Townsville as they gawked, breath still in their lungs, too stunned to breathe.

  She wanted to tell them everything all at once... after all, she had left them, at least in their eyes—but she knew enough to take it slow. They were a simple group of people, though she hated to admit it, and they got angry over trifles. Being too quick about it would only exacerbate the problem. But she knew it had to be done. She had to silence them quickly.

  There was also the eye.

  Thankfully, Professor had made her a lens to cover it. Every idiot in Townsville could and would think she was simply a cyborg, created to emulate the real Blossom. The lens was a great; it matched her other eye perfectly, and hopefully it would help delay any stupid rumors.

  The silence was excruciating. Is it time to speak yet? She had to be careful. She looked out into the crowd, and found not one familiar face. Didn't any of their old friends come to see them? At least Bubbles, or even Buttercup? Did they have school? Were they even still in town?

  And then she realized, people were starting to whisper among themselves.

  It's time. Now they might understand, as long as she kept the details short. She turned to Miss Bellum and asked a silent question.

  Sara looked back at her, winced her own right eye and shook her head gently. Just don't talk about the eye.

  She nodded, and faced the microphone, grabbed it and spoke strongly. "Everyone, please, I have something to tell you all." The whispering died down a little, but not all the way. "Please listen to me; I have much to say." She waited a moment.

  The crowd went quiet. The looks they gave her were empty. Unbelieving. She had to fix it.

  "Everything I am about to tell you is true."

  She swallowed hard and curled her chin to her chest. She was acting as if she were pained by the memories in hopes that no one would offer any questions further. Finally, she raised her head to the crowd with purpose in her eyes. "The skeleton was not me. The corpse of Mojo Jojo was not him. We both lived, to complete his last scheme."

  The realization was fast and slow all at once. It made careful, pointed sense, but infuriated and incensed them with what it entailed. Before the crowd could roar, she spoke again.

  "I don't think he survived his last experiment. A computer smarter than him, and a robot stronger than me."

  The crowd wavered, their object of hate stolen from them by what they must have thought might be some poor sort of justice.

  "The computer had only one real weapon. A robot with me as its power source. What you know as the Khagan, the Tektite, the Dragoon: it was Mojo Jojo's last attack against humanity. But its first target was Mojo Jojo himself. He wasn't smart enough, and I believe it killed him for it."

  The people wept as the sounds of her voice washed over them. It had changed as she had. As they had.

  Behind her, Bellum and Bubbles wept, and Buttercup held her head down to hide any tears that could drop. Backstage, her father kept a hand on his forehead, all effort expended on retaining his composure.

  She refused to let her voice crack.

  "As the robot, I kidnapped Bubbles when Buttercup was unconscious. When she woke up... Well, Buttercup was stronger than I was, and broke the robot."

  She breathed, and easily skipped over the details.

  "We found Bubbles. We went home." She paused. "That's everything."



  Kelley O'Claire drove carefully down the street. She and her daughter Melissa were heading home from school. "Did you have a good day, Sweetie?"

  "Yeah! Hey, guess what Mom! Guess what! Guess!

  She chucked. "What, Honey?"

  "Tomorrow there's going to be a field trip to the... Na-tuh-rul Hiss-tor-ee Moo-see-um!

  "The Natural History Museum! That sounds nice. And you need my permission, is that right?"

  "Ooh! Yes! Mommy! Hey, how'd you know? Are you psychic?"

  She just laughed. "No, no. I'm not. I used to go on field trips too, when I was your age."

  "You were young, Mommy? When, huh? Was it a long time ago? Where was I?"

  Mrs. O'Claire faltered, and glanced up to look at her in the rear-view mirror. "It was a long time ago... 'Lissa, how about I turn on the radio?"

  "Ooh, music! 'Lissa loves music! Hehe!"

  She's so adorable. Kelley's hand brushed against the radio and began shifting stations.

  "...today and has caused quite a stir. Again, if you're just joining us, Blossom of the Powerpuff Girls is alive, here, today, in Townsville!"

  Her jaw dropped and she stared at the radio. "She's... what?"

  "Who's Blossom, Mommy? Is she a new Powerpuff Girl? Was she hurt? Mommy? Are you okay? Hey. Hey! Mommy?"

  But she was frozen. The shock had already robbed her of her thought, and she sat, transfixed on the radio.

  "MOMMY LOOK OUT!!"

  She gasped and slammed on her brakes.



  And that's when all hell broke loose.

  Six cars plowed into one another, ripping sounds of warping metal through the air. The crowd turned their collective heads towards the scene, and that's when Blossom saw it: A tanker up the street from the crash was trying to stop, and he was fish-tailing. The wheels caught and the entire truck toppled, and skidded across the asphalt.

  Blossom's eyes went wide.

  "Buttercup! Stop the tanker! Bubbles, save the people!"

  They turned to her, eyes wide.

  What're they waiting for?!

  "GO! GIRLS! GO!"

  Buttercup launched into the air.

  Bubbles was suddenly in the crowd, using all her limbs to gently but swiftly clear a path, sliding through with unconscious precision. Her eyes were wide, incredulous at the ease.

  Another car slammed into the group from behind, the window shattering on impact, and mashing the other cars closer together with a spray of smoke and fire. The tanker hissed as it slid closer.

  Buttercup streaked towards the tanker, and dug her feet into the road, and caught it head on. It pushed her back several feet, but she stopped it and relaxed, if only for an instant. "Whoo." She stood, one hand still hanging on to the groove she had made in the tank's hull. "That was close." She turned her head.

  She stared openly as Bubbles approached the cars, and with her robotic limbs, gripped the roofs, and pulled.

  The metal tore easily.

  She pulled bewildered people into her real arms, and glided backwards on the fake to drop them gently into the grass by the road. It was mesmerizing.

  "Bubbles... when did—"  

  "BUTTERCUP!"

  She looked over. Blossom was pointing up the road from the— "AHH!!"

  Quickly, she grabbed the tank and heaved it into the air, and was instantly hit by the car that would have hit the tanker.

  Blossom knew Buttercup would be all right and turned towards her other sibling. Her eyes went wide. "BUBBLES!"

  Bubbles looked up suddenly. An oncoming car, about to run her over. Her metal arms were propped against cars. She panicked, and threw out her hands.

  The car's front end caved in; its back end lifted off the ground from the sheer force of the stop. The engine was destroyed in an instant. The driver's head bounced off the steering wheel, and he held his face for just an instant before the air bag went off and knocked him out. She paused, wide-eyed, and stared at her hands.

  Buttercup lifted the car off herself and wiped the blood from her mouth. The driver got out, frantic at having hit her. "Geez! Are you all right?"

  She ignored him, and looked at the tanker, flying into the air. Her eyes widened. "Aw, man!" She raced towards it.

  Blossom finally saw the label printed on the side, and shouted, "Buttercup! Get clear of it! It could blow at any second!"

  "There's still someone inside!"

  Blossom slapped her forehead. "Oh, man, the driver!"

  Her sister ripped off the door, pulled the unconscious man from his seat, and got clear. Still flying, the driver slung over her shoulder, the truck still tumbling through empty space, Buttercup waited for the blast.



  Blossom watched the truck soar higher, but it wasn't exploding. It flew still higher and higher, then began to slow.

  If it didn't blow up now, it would when it landed.

  She had no choice. She put her right hand to her eye. Focus.

  The eye charged at her will.

  She locked on to the truck.

  She waited until it reached its peak.

  She fired. "Ah...!"

  The crimson bolt pierced the tanker's hull in that instant. The shock wave pulsed through everything for half a mile. To the people in the crowd the instant could have lasted several minutes, but for those watching the live feed around the world, the chaos was over in under thirty seconds. The explosion sent fire outward and upward, sending the broken halves of the truck flying in opposite directions. The thousands of people in the crowd shielded their eyes and tumbled to the ground. One half of the truck landed in an empty span of the park, and the other in the road, roughly fifty feet from the pile-up. Bubbles stared at it, and then at the rapidly burning fuel that seemed to be turning into a huge cloud of steam before their eyes. She glanced into the crowd, and then over to Blossom, ducking behind the podium.

  Blossom shook her hand painfully; firing her laser made her contact lens burn hot. She couldn't see it to know if it had melted. Carefully, she tested its heat against the back of her hand. It had cooled just enough. She pulled it out and looked at it. It wasn't burnt, fortunately. It was strange, though: She never felt the eye itself get hot the other times she used the laser. What was different?

  Buttercup landed at Blossom's side. "Bloss, are—" Blossom turned her head when she stopped, and found Buttercup staring into her robot eye. She blinked, and quickly finished. "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah." She paused, then gestured towards the crowd, "How are they?"

  She glanced over. "Some cuts, bruises... the driver of that truck was out cold, not sure about him. Everyone else seems okay." She turned back to Blossom, gesturing at the lens. "What's with this?"

  "I'm just checking for damage. Wouldn't want the camouflage to go to waste."

  Buttercup glanced at the crowd, and whispered, "Then you better put it back in while they're looking the other way."

  She nodded and reseated it, blinking experimentally. It seemed okay. Bubbles landed next to her, and offered her a hand, which she accepted, and let her sister pull her to her feet. Standing now, she looked from Bubbles to Buttercup, and smiled. "You guys were great. Buttercup, that thing where you threw the truck into the air..."

  "Yeah, I know, it was dumb."

  She grinned wickedly. "Actually, you set a new standard."

  "Hey!"

  Bubbles laughed. Blossom laughed. Buttercup faltered and finally realized she was joking and laughed as well.

  She capped Buttercup's shoulder with her hand. "Seriously, you did awesome."

  They smiled at one another.

  "THAT WAS FRICKIN' SWEET!!"

  Blossom turned sharply, facing a small boy at the front of the crowd.

  The countless faces before them hung with baited breath, and when they saw the girls, uninjured and together, really together again, those faces filled with emotion.

  Then they heard it ripple, from every home with a working television set, every window, and every skyscraper. Every farm, and every bystander watching the jumbo-trons downtown. Then it reached the crowd.

  Townsville, all of it, erupted into nearly simultaneous applause.

  She waved proudly to all of them.

  Buttercup nudged her, and she grinned.

  "Now we're back."



  They all sat at the table, all time stopped in the dimly-lit room, business momentarily halted. They were real gangsters: the five of them ran their own select parts of the country.

  They were at their monthly gathering, and news had just arrived on the small screen at the far end of the room. Feelings were mixed; the tall one calculated; the thin one's eyes bulged from their sockets; the squat, ugly one made a rude noise; the short one twitched nervously; and the last one was getting close to choking on his own drool again.

  "Hey Boss! Boss," the short one cried. "This is bad, right? You know?"

  "Nah..." He thumped his hand on the table pointedly. "Nothin' ta worry about." He turned to the thin one. "Deal 'em again, Snake."




  The girl watched with great interest. The live feed, broadcast and rebroadcast around the world clearly showed the world what was happening. Her eyes were wide. And the next instant she was trembling.

  She stood, stepped over to the television, craned her head and listened closer.

  "And so, for the first time in years... the day is saved... thanks to Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup... the Powerpuff Girls."

  She gave the television a bemused smile, and tore it sideways, dashing it to the floor with a billow of smoke and a loud resounding crack.

  She glared at it, her lips curving up into an anger-laced grin. It was a moment before realizing that she was there, leaning against the the door frame, arms crossed. She turned and glared at her.

  She ignored the tone of her eyes. "Those things aren't free, you know. They cost money."

  She hmph'd, reached into her left pocket, and threw it at her like a shuriken.

  She pulled the stack of bills out of the air effortlessly. Pocketing it, she stood, gauging the girl's expression. She was silent several seconds before she spoke. "Blossom's alive? Huh."

  She nodded, and looked out the window into the dreary gray sky. Her grin was almost psychotic, and she couldn't help but think of all the things she wanted to do with this new information.

  Soon the much older woman gave the real reason for being there at this early hour. With a flick of her hair that had nothing to do with the motion of her head, she told her, "It's time for your morning training, Princess."



  "It has begun..."

  He sat back, his hands in the shape of a temple as he stared at the soundless television screen. He reclined just a little. What, if anything, should be done? He pondered for a long time, and sat in silence.

  He sighed, sitting up, and pressed the button on the intercom to his secretary. "Miss Blake? Get my brother on the phone."

  "Yes, General."


END CHAPTER TWO