Mickey Mouse Clubhouse Presents: Blood on the Sand!

[Proto Man]

The blast of energy hit the sociopath square on the chest, sending him sailing backwards. With a resounding thud and a giant puff of sand, Cell Delta hit the ground and went still. Never one to hit a man when he was down, Proto Mouse turned and began to walk away without a second thought.

“You’re not going to walk away from me, you little rodent…” Delta rasped as he pulled himself into an upright position and started to fire a quick succession of plasma bursts from his arm cannon.

Proto Mouse spun around and battered away the oncoming projectiles with his keyblade. Once the firing stop, the cyborg mouse took a step forward and hurtled his weapon like a javelin. Despite the fact that the keyblade was blunted at the end, the force behind the throw was enough to punch it through the side of Cell Delta’s abdomen. The prime let out a horrible scream as he clutched at the oversized key now buried through his midsection.

“You’ll survive,” Proto Mouse muttered, recalling Proto Man’s previous fight with the barely human creature. The machine man had suffered a blast of red-hot flames to the face without losing consciousness or slipping beyond the mortal coil.

“As long…” Cell Delta paused, his brow laced with sweat as he tried to stop the blood loss. Even so, the liquid continued to seep out from around the keyblade haft. Even at his distance from his foe, Proto Mouse could see that the blood had an almost oily consistency. “As long as you remain in this verse… I will hunt you. You will… you will never be safe.”

“Bring an army next time,” Proto Mouse chuckled as he turned and walked away, leaving the grievously wounded ‘tsartan’ sitting in a pool of his own blood surrounded by his unconscious lackeys. “You’ll need it!” He shouted cheerfully as he began to leisurely jog off toward the horizon.

***

What a strange world!

There was no way to describe the strangeness that Proto Mouse felt as he soared across the dunes on a jetpack. A look at a reflective surface revealed the handsome features of one Mickey Mouse, and removing the helmet revealed his ears and the rest of his scalp.

Even so, he knew he wasn’t entirely the same mouse as before. Words and images popped up before him from time to time, indicating everything from temperature and GPS location to recent news stories on the Dataverse. Every now and again, he’d even receive a prompt indicating him to change course or stating that he should lay off the throttle. The slightly less robotic nature of those text boxes lead him to believe they weren’t just being automatically generated by a machine.

As he dropped his altitude a few feet, Proto Mouse skimmed over a fresh text popup. Nearby Settlement – Town with no Name. Former Imperial Settlement. Currently Independent. [i]De facto run by Sheriff Roland Deschain.[/i]

“People!” The flying robo-mouse declared as he skimmed the horizon until he located what appeared to be houses or buildings of some sort that broke up the desert landscape. “There we go.” He said with a smile as he kicked up the thrusters and sped toward the location.

A minute and a half later, Proto Mouse killed the engines and dropped down from the sky into the center of the Town with No Name. As the propulsion thingamajigs (the mouse part of him couldn’t figure out the actual name) retracted seamlessly into his back, the cyborg glanced around at the collection of people now staring at him.

“Hi, I’m Proto Mouse, and it’s really lovely to meet you all.”