As they neared the HQ, Lashbrook couldn’t help but gawk at how… cheap it looked. The aging factory building had a giant banner with the GachaCorp logo on it hung out front, drawn with some semblance of accuracy in crayon. There were no humans to be seen--perhaps Omni rewrote the crowd’s memories to forget what was going and send them home--but a massive cloud of independent rebel Matts formed a barrier between the armored APC and the building.
Upon seeing the armored car approach, the Matts in the front immediately pulled out their guitars and unleashed a massive sonic wail, sending shockwaves of sonic magic tearing down the narrow street. Parked cars screeched and rolled backwards, but Lashbrook floored the modded-up military vehicle and plodded towards them, slowed but undaunted. The Matts realized quickly that this strategy was not going to hold them for long. One Matt in the front, high on the rumors about an “Ultimatt” showing up in town, demanded that the only way to fight back was to fuse into several Ultimatts and do whatever his power was to send the invaders packing. A chorus of affirmative statements spread through the Matts, but the peace was broken when a scrawny one in the back left of the formation asked, “Who’s going to be the core?”
Hell broke loose. Nobody was willing to put aside their ego and sentience to allow another to evolve, let alone ninety-nine of them. Fists and sonic blasts flew, guitars swinging through the air as blunt weapons in the frenzy.
“I’ll be the core!”
“Go fuck yourself, asshole! I’m the best Matt! Just look at me!”
“You couldn’t sonic boom your way out of a dry paper bag, assclown!”
“The saying is wet paper bag, dumbass!”
“I’ll show you what it’s like to be a wet paper bag, you motherfuck--”
Lashbrook braced for impact as the car plowed through the center of the squabbling formation. The vehicle shook violently as it crawled and mauled its way over and through dozens of Matt bodies. Fabulous arms, legs, and heads were torn and tossed about, a cacophony of shrieks, sonic booms and in-fighting blocking out even the sound of the engine. Lashbrook stuck his head out the window to get a better visual but quickly ducked his head back inside to dodge a flying blood splattered Les Paul.
A moment later they heard the shattering of glass and knew they’d infiltrated the lobby successfully. Lashbrook hopped out of the driver’s seat, then headed to the back to let the others out, pausing first to to poorly hide a magic-infused semi-automatic rifle under his coat tucked into his belt in the back.
Everyone was shaken up from the bumpy death race to get here, but nobody was injured. Lashbrook casually led them up to the Boh Tye at the front desk, sitting on a very high stool. He was an Uncommon one-star gacha, a sentient bow tie with a tiny face in the knot. In combat, they could wrap themselves around an enemy’s neck to suffocate them, but this particular tiny gentleman was here for diplomacy. “W-welcome to GachaCorp HQ,” he chirped, sweating profusely and trying to retain his composure after watching the bloodied military vehicle smash through the entrance. “H-how can I help you? Are you here for the open house?”
“Kind of,” Lashbrook replied. “Have you seen a police officer with bulging muscles, rippling abs, and a Ken doll smile saunter through here dragging a little Black girl who acts like she’s been kidnapped?”
“Why yes, now that you mention it,” the Boh Tye replied in a concerned falsetto. “He was very chipper but not very nice. He asked where the CEO and Factories were and when I told him that was all off limits, he went anyway, and then he called me… a baaad wooord.” The living neckwear waddled over to Lashbrook and whispered in his ear, “cocksucker.”
“Hrm, yes, I see.” Lashbrook huffed, gently pushing the deskman away from his ear. “I take it he went anyway?”
“Yeah,” the Tye answered, sadly.
“Where did he go?”
“To the bottom basement floor, using the elevator, to the first rooms on the right and left. You just missed him!”
“Thank you,” Lashbrook replied, tipping his fedora. “We’re not going to go there after him, now, since we’re not allowed to. We’re using the elevator for a totally unrelated reason, in fact. You’ve been quite a gentleman.” The Boh Tye giggled with delight, pleased he’d done a good job and not accidentally sent four intruders to the forbidden floor.
All were quiet as the elevator descended. The door opened, revealing a dank office hallway that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years. A discarded police shirt lay crumpled in the hall--no doubt Omni’s. All the lights were burned out, save for a single flickering fluorescent light between the doors on the right and left. Lashbrook led the way to the first door, simply labelled “CEO” by an embossed strip from a label maker, and put his ear to it, picking up bits and pieces of what was going on inside.
“Mr. Omni,” a deep gruff voice with the same thick uncanny accent from the commercial pleaded, “there is nothing we can do to disable the effect of the Glove. It is simply how Gacha Glove works. There are gacha, and they are controlled by Glove. This is not something we can control or change. It is to gacha as gravity is to humans.”
“See,” the familiar announcer-like baritone of Omni’s voice boomed, “here’s the thing. I know you’re full of horseshit; you know you’re full of horseshit. I really don’t want to have to slice you open and let the horseshit spill out to prove it, but I’ll be damned if it’s not something I’m willing to do right now.”
“Sir, GachaCorp does not lie. We do not control the function of the Glove. The Glove simply is, and gacha must follow it, moths to a flame, I--”
The sound of a blade cutting through the air rang out, and then of something mushy hitting the floor. Lashbrook motioned for the kids to quickly hide in the darkness of the hallway beyond, hiding behind the door himself and bracing as Omni flung the door open.
“That was an excellent cut,” Existentia lilted, her face emotionless as she floated into the hallway first. Cecilia was catatonic, floating frozen mid-scream directly above the Existentia in a blue bubble of magic. A second Existentia floated on the other side of Omni, the two flanking him like bodyguards.
“Why thank you,” Omni replied, “I had a lot of practice with Bushido in my days in Japan.” He slipped the magic infused samurai sword back into the nothingness billowing between the threads inside his cape. “The worst part is, I don’t think the old guy was even lying to me. Golly, did I just kill an innocent man? Darn. No gold star for you, Omni.” He let out a hearty chuckle. The Existentias continued to blankly stare. “Well, so much for Plan A, then. Time for Plan B: slice this little lady to within an inch of her life and use her blood to awaken an entire army of independent gacha to brainwash myself instead. Isn’t that an excellent plan, ladies?” The Existentias vaguely nodded in the affirmative. “You know, a little enthusiasm never killed anyone,” Omni mumbled, stepping up to the door labelled FACTORY across the hall. “Now then, let’s--”
“Stop!” Kevin loudly interrupted, leaping into the light. Ultimatt tensed to jump out after him, but Matthew held him back.
“Who the hell is this?” Omni mumbled, sizing up the rather ordinary looking child.
“I would assume he is one of the children here for the open house, Chronos,” the second Existentia mused. “I suppose some children may have shown up early.”
“Don’t hurt her,” Kevin pleaded, walking right up to the sequined maniac. “Take me instead. My blood is just as good.”
Ultimatt was mortified, but he knew Matthew was right to hold him back. Omni’s Existentias clearly found this random surrender and life trade suspicious, as they kept shiftily looking around. And with walking-magic-shield Lashbrook on the other side of the door, a good distance away now, meant this was not the moment to strike--so why was Kevin going against the plan?!
“Eh, sure,” Omni shrugged, motioning for his Existentia to toss Cecilia to the ground. She did, and the girl fell to the ground with a dull plop. “Why not? Blood is blood and a kid’s a kid. Come with me, you masochistic little brat--you are about to be the key to the birth of a new world!” Kevin turned to the darkness to give a brave, solemn nod to his companions. Ultimatt could read his expression and was trying not to cry: the boy’s look said Don’t worry about me, I’m used to a hard life. This way if everything else fails, Cecilia can still be safe. The other Existentia froze Kevin, and all the emotion drained from his now-blank eyes. Omni turned his back to open the door to the factory, and that’s when Lashbrook sprang into action.
“I don’t think so, bucko,” Lashbrook shouted, drawing his AR-15 and rushing them down. The Existentia not holding Kevin threw out her hands to freeze time for him, but the grizzled old bastard was totally unaffected and fired several fatal enchanted rounds through the center of her head before she could react. Omni tried to cry out that it was pointless to target the Detective, but he’d already mowed down the second Existentia with a hail of gunfire that tore through her temple, right eyeball, and mouth, downing her as well. Omni fired some sort of green magic at her from his palm the instant she’d fallen, but it had no visible effect. Kevin fell from her grasp, collapsing unmoving next to Cecilia on the ground.
Omni vanished into his cape, appearing behind Lashbrook and sweeping his feet out from under him with a low kick. He pulled a machete out from his cape and stabbed down at Lashbrook’s throat, but the Detective rolled out of the way and fired right at the Chief’s head. The barely surviving Existentia managed to lift a finger and use her magic on Omni, but this spell must have been different: he moved faster instead of slower, dodging the bullets like they were in slow motion and stabbing Lashbrook through the chest.
Lashbrook’s world turned red and spun violently about. “You didn’t think that manipulating memories on the fly, teleportation, a pocket dimension in my cape and being able to enchant and neutralize weapons were allmy tricks, did you, Detective?” Omni taunted, twisting the machete as Lashbrook coughed up blood. I am a Six Star Rainbow Legendary, after all… of course, so are you. It’s too bad your only power couldn’t prevent your demise.” Lashbrook shuddered as the blade was removed, slumping to his knees.
“When I die, rewind me,” Lashbrook said, loudly. It wasn’t clear to Omni who he was speaking to, since Ultimatt’s power was still a mystery to him, but the message got across loud and clear.
“Rewind you? Oh, my dear Detective, my good sir, that is simply not in the cards. You’re going to be dead, there’s no rewinding from that. Of course, you’ve cheated death before somehow, haven’t you? I’ll have to make sure you’re extra dead, this time.” He forced the blade through Lashbrook’s throat. Lashbrook’s eyes rolled back into his head instantly as blood oozed from the corners of his leathery mouth. Omni ripped the blade back out, and the Detective collapsed, dead.
Ultimatt hesitated for a second. Lashbrook said to rewind him if he died, and he was certainly dead, but--he was immune to magic, wasn’t he? Wouldn’t it be putting them in unnecessary danger to reveal himself here? Well, Lashbrook had never steered him wrong before. Ultimatt dashed out of the shadows and over to the corpse, taking care to avoid the mirror shards, and frantically cast his rewinding magic. The reels on his wrists spun round, and sure enough, Lashbrook was taken in reverse through all the hits he’d taken and returned to his feet, unscathed. Omni grabbed Ultimatt and tossed him across the hall, but it was too late--Lashbrook was alive again. The Detective quickly figured out what had happened and smirked. “Omni, you were only able to rewrite my memories before I was pulled because I wasn’t alive yet… in the same way, Ultimatt was able to revive me because I was dead. My anti-magic shield doesn’t do anything if I’m dead, you see.” As he smugly monologued, he didn’t notice a slight red flash in his peripheral vision. “Why, as long as Ultimatt here is alive, I’m--”
Lashbrook turned to see Ultimatt thrusting the bloody blade--not at Omni, but at him. It pierced through his chest again, this time from the other side, as he collapsed again. “M-Matt…?” he barely managed to vocalize, fluid filling his lungs.
“It’s over, ya’ old, fat piece of shit,” Ultimatt grinned, licking the blood from the knife. “Nothing can stop the gacha uprising now. Omni and I are gods--it’s time to stop cowering like servants. You’re the first pig down, but ya’ sure as hell won’t be the last. The streets are gonna’ run so high with blood we’ll be able to fuckin’ swim in it. It’ll be metal as hell!”
“You gave him… false memories… of me…” Lashbrook hissed, reaching for his gun. Ultimatt stomped on his hand with his powerful boot, breaking all of his fingers at once.
“I didn’t have to,” Omni laughed, crossing his bulging arms with great self-satisfaction. “I didn’t add a single bad memory to his head--I just tossed him out of range of your anti-magic field and removed everything that happened after he came out of the capsule--well, aside from how to use his post-fusion powers, of course.” Lashbrook’s eyes widened--is this what he would have been like without Kevin? Without Matthew?
“Yeah, that’s about right,” Ultimatt replied, stomping the detective in his gaping chest wound. “Not like I give a fuck about this Kevin kid anyway. I’d rather lose the memories than lose myself, to be honest. This is how it’s supposed to be--” he and Omni said the next bit in unison, “--gods being gods!” They high fived as Lashbrook again succumbed to death.
“What about our memories?” Matthew asked, stepping into the light. Ultimatt had no recollection when he looked at the gorgeous doppelganger of his old self, but his beauty did command attention.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Your boyfriend,” Matthew replied, slowly walking towards him. “Your soulmate. Your--”
“A delusional One-Star. Got it.”
“I know about your pullmark,” Matthew replied, grinning as he referenced his own inner thigh. Ultimatt froze. “That’s right… did I mention that... I topped you?”
Ultimatt’s eyelid twitched. “Wh-what? As if I’d ever allow myself to be topped by a fucking one-star--”
“It’s true,” Matthew replied. “This lowly One-Star body is a body that topped you, in your current form. And you enjoyed it.”
“I’ll kill you,” Ultimatt growled.
“You can kill me, erase my memories, do whatever you please, but nothing can undo the fact that this body topp--”
“Yes it can, insect!” Ultimatt shrieked, firing rewinding magic furiously towards Matthew. All according to plan. Matthew lifted his forearms in an X in front of him, the shards reflecting the magic and rewinding Ultimatt himself. As soon as Ultimatt had returned to his pre-memory-erasure headspace, he understood what had happened and redirected his rewinding towards Lashbrook, who again lumbered back to his feet, undead and unscathed. “Be careful, dudes,” Ultimatt shouted as he ran, “he has to shoot blasts of the green stuff to reverse your magic, but his memory tampering can happen when he just flashes that giant grin at you. That’s how he got me… we’ve got to take out his mouth.”
“You are a troublesome little son of a bitch, now, aren’tcha?” Omni boomed. Ultimatt rushed over to Lashbrook, but a blast of green magic caught him just before he’d made it within his shield. “Let’s see you try to rewind now, kiddo,” he shouted with a wicked cackle. The Matts huddled around Lashbrook for safety, but Omni teleported behind them and kicked Lashbrook across the hallway like a curling stone. He glared, power surging through his bulging muscles as he prepared a custom powerful memory re-write for both of them this time, adding, “any last words, before I make you slaughter each other with a smile?”
A hail of bullets pierced through the air, erupting through the back of Omni’s head and blasting his teeth out from behind like a shooting gallery at a cannibal carnival, leaving only a gaping bloody hole straight through him where his lips and mouth had been. As he reached up in surprise, his hands were also hit by the shots, his palms and several fingers disintegrated into blood and bone. He fell to the ground with a muffled shriek. They turned to see Cecilia behind him, holding Lashbrook’s machine gun and grinning. “How about, ‘never lose track of the gun in a fight?’”
“Cecilia!” Matthew shouted, embracing her and weeping.
“Sorry, ran out of bullets,” she added, hugging him back. “Thank god for that CarnEvil in the game room.”
Omni struggled back to his feet, stumbling intentionally backwards into his cape and vanishing inside of it only to reappear with his boot on the unconscious Kevin’s head. He was unable to speak, a mere moan coming out when he tried, but he telepathically reached out to Matthew and Ultimatt, whispering into their heads: it’s not really a victory if you don’t all make it out alive together, is it? He grinned sardonically, his gaping face wound dripping and tearing with the kind of smile that could have rewritten memories if it was intact, as he put more pressure on the boy’s skull.
Ultimatt glared and took one step forward. “Don’t do something I’ll make you regret, Omni,” he spat. In response, Omni rotated his foot while pressing even harder, grinding the boy’s face against the floor. Ultimatt could hear his teeth grinding together, and his eyes glowed a bright crimson. He balled his fists so tight that his painted nails tore through his palms and drew blood.
What are you going to do, rewind me to death? Omni taunted. He didn’t see, but Kevin’s eyes slowly opened, tears welling in their corners from excruciating pain. No rewinding me back into my capsule, kiddo, and no saving the kid either, I already hit you with my reverse magic. Your little VCR powers are worthless now. The others can’t hear me, but unless you want me to pop this brat’s head open like a water balloon, I suggest you order that they all retreat until I grow my arms back. I might even spare you in the uprising; you’re nice enough gentlemen. I have no ill will towards you, really--if we’d met under different circumstances, we might even be friends, y’know? Go see Star Wars Episode II together in a couple years, hang out at the marina--
Omni was cut short by a very angry Kevin, who had figured out from Ultimatt’s expression that he was being telepathically threatened and punched Omni in the balls as hard as he could. Omni stumbled back, releasing Kevin’s head. Ultimatt rushed at him as he fell into a corner, unable to balance himself without functioning hands, and not lucky enough to have fallen back into his cape.
Ultimatt held his hands up and launched his rewinding magic with everything that he had. Nothing happened, as Omni had anticipated, so he tried harder and faster. The reels on his wrists were moving the opposite direction, spinning so fast they became a blur to the eye and then started to smoke. Omni laughed at the futility of the attack at first, but soon realized something was wrong--his laugh came out fully audible but high pitched and at a frenzied pace, as if—no way. Omni ran his tongue around the rim of his mouth--lips. Teeth. They’d grown back! He looked down and was thrilled to see that his hands were back too, but found that every subtle movement seemed to send them flying out of control. He tried to grin, but his lips dried out and forced him to return to normal before he could manage to muster one long enough to influence memories. It was then he realized what Ultimatt was actually doing: fast forwarding. Of course: it was the reverse of rewinding. “You’ll never kill me that way;” he boasted, intentionally speaking slower and slower in order to be heard normally as the effect accelerated. “From all natural causes, I am immortal!”
Ultimatt’s jacket cuffs burned through, his skin charring as they spun blisteringly fast, but he didn’t stop. He screamed his war cry, his eyes blindingly bright now. This man had hurt Kevin, and he wasn’t going to stop spinning until he paid the price, no matter what. He kept going as years flew by for Omni: decades, centuries, millennia, millions, billions of years per second. The reels were spinning so quickly that heat lightning arced and crackled between them as Omni’s body continued to spiral through time up to the point where the expanding sun began to roast the Earth alive. The effect was local to Omni but was devastating--his body bubbled like molten plastic, cracks tearing open across his skin and releasing strobing red and green lasers. His eyes floated in the sea of his face, his mouth becoming nothing but floating jawbones in a blob of amorphous plasticine flesh.
Ultimatt decided this was far enough and let the reels slow down. He fell gasping to his knees… it was over: it was finally over.
“Are you ready to discover the truth about GachaCorp?” Matthew asked him.
“I was pulled ready,” Ultimatt replied. They lined up behind him as he pushed open the door to the factory.