Beach Filler Episode (OPEN)

[Proto Man]

He had been there for a grand total of fifteen minutes when his wifi finished updating all of his various applications. When that process completed, a year’s worth of memos and messages and notifications bombarded the android’s virtual display. A lot of it was messages from old acquaintances and spam mailers from corporations, along with a few invitations to Syntech events. Proto Man shuddered at the latter, and he took a few moments to delete all the offers to subscribe to the live stream of the current Dante’s Abyss.

Through the din of emails, one of the more recent ones caught his attention.

Monsters? Slaughtering people?

Proto Man pulled up the text and saw that the Omniverse had been experiencing episodes of ‘darklings’ attacking various verses. Efforts had been launched to turn back the tide, and while there had been success in some locations, the monsters had remained unchecked in a few spots.

Including this place?

The preteen machine scowled. One of his tiny hands clenched into a tight fist as he pressed his teeth together with all the indignant rage that an eleven-year-old machine could muster. How long had this been going on? How many days (weeks? Months?) had he let these monsters go unchecked while he was off building sandcastles in the sand with Mickey? How many people had been slaughtered during his tea party with Lilo last week?

Memories of the Blight popped up on Proto Man’s virtual display. The images of twisted, deformed animals shrieking for blood—their lives lost because someone had allowed that infection to go unchecked for too long.

Now it had happened again, and this time, he couldn’t play the ‘I wasn’t in the Omniverse when it started’ card. This malfeasance had been born and proliferated under his own nose…

Proto Man raked his cybernetic head for the opportune word to spit out—something virulent that would encapsulate his wide range of conflicting pseudo-emotions. He settled on something he heard Mickey mutter once after stubbing his toe on the corner of a table. “Dagnabbit!”

Another message seemed important—a mass mailer from someone called ‘Doctor Regal.’ Proto Man left it on his display as he turned to Rush. “Jet mode, Boy!”

Rush, sensing his owner’s discomfort, nodded his head and slid down onto his tummy. As he did, his joints locked into place and his back opened to reveal a recessed platform for Proto Man to stand inside. Hopping onto his robot dog, the preteen machine took him into the air above the boardwalk. He immediately noticed that he was drawing attention from frolickers and that the jets had blown apart a few of the nearby concession stands.

“Sorry!” Proto Man shouted over the hum of the mini turbines buzzing beneath him. “There are people being slaughtered… just save me some cotton candy, okay? It’s for a friend!”

With that, the red robot rocketed off toward the warzone at the center of the Vasty Deep.