Family of Steel - Man on Fire

[Proto Man]

The feint had worked.

While he hadn’t been a direct nuisance in the last few months, the presence of the Prodigal had forced them to tone down the scale of their operations to prevent exposure. Since Proto Man had run off to pursue shadows in Camelot, Quick Man and his brothers had been able to continue their more extensive plans. Now all they had to do was continue to dangle the carrot in front of him to keep him scampering around the hinterland of the Omniverse. From the control room of the factory, the boomerang-themed Robot Master observed the status of the complicated machinery operating on the production floor below.

As it had been since their arrival and retrofitting of the seemingly abandoned facility, everything was functioning within parameters. Within a few more months, they would be double their intended quota for the quarter.

With a grin, Quick Man turned to face a smaller set of monitors. Beneath one of them, a red incandescent bulb was flashing intermittently, signaling that someone was trying to relay him information. Striding over to the console, the Robot Master verified the encryption algorithm and proceeded to open the audio-visual channel. After a few seconds of buzzing white noise, the image crystallized to that of Bubble Man. Quick Man hid a frown, knowing full-well that the aquatic machine was probably intending to relay some failure or mishap in the mission he’d received.

“Hello, Bubble Man,” the boomerang-themed machine replied, feigning courteousness given the fact that the pathetic robot was still his ‘flesh and blood,’ to steal a human metaphor. “How is your mission?”

“It goes well, Quick Man!” The other robot replied with a strange degree of enthusiasm. This verse is beautiful. I think the sea goes on forever!”

The red and black android furrowed his brow. “Well it does have the term ‘vast’ in its title. Have you got in touch with the contact? I hope you’re not taking this time to snorkel.”

“Of c-c-course not,” Bubble Man replied timidly, his eyes glancing down at the floor for a second before he lifted them back up to his sibling. “I met with this fabulous duck fellow who works as one of the turtle’s liaisons . I’m supposed to go snorkeling with them...I guess they have some sort of undersea bunker they use to vet contacts. Have you heard from the others?”

For whatever reason, Bubble Man was probably the only member of their cohort who showcase genuine emotional investment in his brothers. Most of them prefered to operate on their own or used one another in a something more akin to a parasitic than symbiotic relationship. “Yes, they’re fine. The machinery we received functioned flawlessly.”

“That’s excellent,” Bubble Man responded, his exuberance a little grating to Quick Man, who quickly wanted to be finished with the conversation. “Will we be able to have group conversations soon?”

“That’s not high on the list, Bubble Man, but I have to go. File a report once you’ve made contact with the turtle’s people and don’t waste my time before then.” Without waiting for a response, Quick Man closed the channel and turned away from the monitor. The boomerang-themed android placed two fingers to his temple.

“What do you intend to do about Proto Man?”

Try as he could, Quick Man flinched at the sound of the Prime lurking in the shadows behind him. Turning around, he watched the figure step forward, arms crossed over his chest.

“The Prodigal is barely a nuisance to us. He is willing to chase shadows halfway across the Omniverse.”

“Then you are aware that he now travels to the Ashen Plains looking for your associate?”

A scowl spread across the boomerang-themed robot’s visage. He knew of the Prodigal’s movements from reports, but how could this Prime also be aware of that private information? It was that fact that unsettled Quick Man more so than Proto Man running off to the Ashen Plains. “Heat Man will reduce him to ash if they come to blows.” And the android had little doubt on his mind that his fire-themed brother would leap on the chance to destroy the Prodigal. Heat Man wasn’t exactly the coolest head in their ‘family.’

“So you say,” the Prime responded with a smirk. “Perhaps it is time I got to meet your half-brother.” With that, the figure stepped back into the darkness and vanished, leaving a scowling Quick Man alone in the observation room.

While he and his brothers had dealt with several Primes since their arrival in the Omniverse, Quick Man was always uncomfortable around that machine-hybrid.

***

He had wanted to stop by at the Community Center before traveling on from Camelot, but Proto Man didn’t want to deal with any unwanted attention. In his conversation with Roll, she mentioned that the ‘dragon slayers’ were already the buzz in Coruscant, much to the chagrin of the imperial news networks. It seemed that most of the middle- and lower- classes saw the group as something akin to rockstars, but the Empire’s bureaucracy was attempting to downplay the incident, given the fact that two of its most recent Primes had taken part in defeating a menace to the Kingdom. Opting to wait until the press surrounding the incident subsided, Proto Man and Salsa returned to Nexus and veered to the northeast until they arrived at the gate to the Ashen Plains.

Somewhere beyond the gate was Heat Man, fresh off an apparent attack on the region of the Tangled Green that also boarded the verse that stood before the preteen and his chocobo. Hopping off of Salsa, Proto Man gave her a pat on the side of the beak. “You go back and enjoy some sunshine, okay? I’ll give you a whistle if I need your help.”

After one long look at the gate, the chocobo nodded her head and scampered off toward the Camelot gate, leaving Proto Man alone before the entrance to the Ashen Plains. Squaring his shoulders, the preteen marched through the gate. After that strange sensation of weightlessness as he stepped across the barrier, he found himself confronted by a temperature increase of nearly forty degrees and arid gusts of wind that vied to throw him back through the gate.

The sudden environmental changes probably would have shocked the ill-prepared traveler, but fortunately for Proto Man, only the strength of the wind was an issue. The dryness of the wind and the tropical temperature amounted to little more than numbers on his internal display. This was one instance where he was happy he was a machine rather than entirely flesh and blood.

First things first. As if they were made from glass, Proto Man stripped off the crimson plate mail he’d worn throughout his stint in Camelot. While sections were burnt, scalded, and dented, it was mostly intact, and he didn’t want to risk damaging it, especially since he knew he could recycle it into more fitting attire.

A few moments later, Proto Man started down the hill from the gate. The heavy yet sturdy plate mail had been replaced by a loose-fitting tunic and pants, much like the boy had seen in pictures from Arabian Nights. He wore no helmet, instead opting for a simple head wrap that would keep his skull cool (as if he needed it) and prevent sweat from getting to his eyes (as if he needed that either). While his visor was also gone, Proto Man retained his sunglasses, because you should always protect yourself from harmful UV rays!