Archive of Our Own ^beta

The atmosphere at Mega City Junior High had changed. Before the attacks, the hallways were filled with the chatter of homework and weekend plans. Now, there was a jagged undercurrent of tension. Every slammed locker sounded like a gunshot; every flicker of the lights caused a dozen heads to snap upward.

Trust was a currency in short supply, and the exchange rate had just crashed.

Rock Light stood by his locker, organizing his books. He felt the shift in the air before he heard it—a sudden, suffocating silence rippling down the corridor. He closed his locker and turned.

Walking through the main entrance was Bert Wily.

In recent times, Bert walked with a permanent slouch, clutching his backpack like a shield. Today, he walked straight, though he looked terrified. He had reason to be. Flanking him on either side were two figures that made the blood of every student in the hallway run cold.

To his left: DWN-009, Metal Man. The robot was casually spinning a razor-sharp ceramic blade on one finger like a basketball, his red optics scanning the crowd with bored menace.

To his right: DWN-012, Quick Man. He leaned against the air as if the world was moving too slow for him, his boomerang cutter resting on his hip, a smirk plastered on his face.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Roll whispered, stepping up beside Rock. Her hands were already clenched into fists.

Blues, leaning against a pillar near the cafeteria entrance, lowered his shades. His internal buster began to whine with a pre-charge hum.

"Hi, guys," Bert squeaked as he approached, shrinking under the collective glare of the student body.

"Bert," Rock said, his voice level. He stepped forward, putting himself between the Wily numbers and the terrified students. "What... is this?"

"Grandpa... I mean, Dr. Wily," Bert corrected quickly, sweating. "He heard about the lockdown. And the Emerald Spears. He said the school's security was 'laughable garbage' and insisted I have a protective detail."

Quick Man scoffed, a sound like a hydraulic hiss. "Laughable is being kind. I counted four blind spots just walking through the door. You're lucky we're here, kid."

"We are strictly for observation and defense," Metal Man added, his voice grinding like gears. He stopped spinning the blade and caught it with a snick. "Unless someone initiates hostilities."

"Hostilities?" Blues stepped off the wall, walking over. "You walking in here is a hostility. You're Wily Numbers."

"And you're a walking targeting beacon, Prototype," Quick Man shot back, his smirk widening. "Wanna race to the principal's office? I'll be there and back before you finish charging that lemon shooter."

"Hey!" Rock interjected, holding up his hands. "Stop. Both of you." He looked at Bert. "Bert, you know how this looks, right? After everything that happened?"

"I know!" Bert looked miserable. "I told him! I said, 'Grandpa, people are scared.' But he sent them anyway. He said if Dr. Light's 'precious creations' can't keep the school safe, his will."

Roll crossed her arms. "We kept the school safe just fine."

"Did you?" Metal Man asked. "The oxygen report says otherwise."

Roll bristled, her cheeks flushing red. Rock put a hand on her shoulder. He scanned the two Robot Masters. His internal sensors were picking up... nothing. No weapons charged. No aggressive combat subroutines active. They were in passive escort mode.

"They're allowed to be here," Rock said finally.

"Rock!" Roll gasped.

"Dr. Wily signed the papers," Rock said. "Technically, they're Bert's guardians. As long as they don't hurt anyone, we can't kick them out."

"Fine," Blues growled, powering down his buster but keeping his hand near it. "But if that blade moves one inch toward a student, Metal Man is going to be Scrap Man."

"Noted," Metal Man droned. "Now move. The bell rings in thirty seconds. Punctuality is efficient."

As the group moved toward homeroom, Rock watched them go. He saw Bert give him a thankful, apologetic look.

From the shadows of the stairwell, three pairs of eyes watched the scene unfold with seething jealousy.

"Unbelievable," Dixwell "Dix" Boltz growled, crushing an empty soda can in his large hand. "Uncle Albert sends his personal elites to babysit the nerd?"

"Maybe Bert's in trouble?" suggested Dag, the smallest of the brothers, adjusting his oversized backpack.

"Bert's always in trouble," Dez sneered, leaning over the railing. "He's a Wily who acts like a Light. It's embarrassing. And now he gets Quick Man? I asked Uncle for Air Man for my birthday and got a card."

Dixwell threw the crushed can into a recycling bin with unnecessary force. "He thinks he's better than us. Walking around with bodyguards... acting like he's the heir to the Wily empire. We need to remind him where he stands on the family tree."

The next day, the tension didn't break. It evolved.

Bert arrived at the front steps, looking even more mortified than the day before. Metal Man and Quick Man were gone. In their place stood two different, hulking figures.

DWN-018, Magnet Man. He hovered slightly off the ground, the magnetic fields around him causing the zippers on passing students' backpacks to float upward.

DWN-020, Hard Man. He was massive, a literal wall of blue ceramic and steel, his knuckles scraping the floor as he walked.

"Make way," Hard Man boomed. His voice didn't echo; it just flattened the air. "Protecting the asset."

"Asset?" Alan whispered to Chelsea as they watched from the library window. "Is he talking about Bert?"

"I think so," Chelsea said, writing in her notebook. "It's fascinating, actually. Wily's programming usually prioritizes conquest. This is... pure preservation. But the psychological impact on the student body is catastrophic."

In the cafeteria, the situation reached a boiling point. Hard Man was standing directly behind Bert's chair. Every time Bert took a bite of his sandwich, Hard Man scanned the room.

"This is ridiculous," Roll hissed. She was sitting at the Light family table, stabbing her salad. "Magnet Man just accidentally erased three kids' homework just by walking past their lockers. And Hard Man is taking up two fire exits."

"They're just standing there, Roll," Rock said, peeling an orange. "They haven't hurt anyone."

"It's not about hurting," Blues muttered. He was constantly scanning the room, his paranoia dial turned to eleven. "It's a power play. Wily is showing us he can march his army right under our noses and we can't do anything about it. It's a Trojan Horse."

"Or," Rock said, "Bert is a kid whose family is... complicated. And he's just trying to eat lunch."

"You're too trusting, Rock," Blues said. "One day, that switch is gonna flip. And I'm not gonna be the one caught off guard."

Across the cafeteria, the Boltz Brothers sat at a table, glaring.

"Look at him," Dixwell spat. "Hard Man gave him a juice box. A juice box! That robot can crush a tank, and he's serving beverages."

"If we go over there, Hard Man will flatten us," Dag noted nervously.

"We don't go over there now," Dixwell said, a cruel smile forming. "Uncle Albert cycles the bots every day. We just have to wait for the rotation. Wait for the weak ones."

Day three. The breaking point.

The rotation had indeed changed. The heavy hitters were gone. Standing by the lockers with Bert were DWN-019, Top Man, and DWN-022, Snake Man.

Top Man was currently pirouetting in place, checking his reflection in a trophy case. "Style is essential to security, don't you think?" he asked a terrified freshman.

Snake Man was... unsettling. He was crouched low, his sensors flicking out like a tongue, scanning heat signatures. He looked less like a bodyguard and more like a predator waiting for an excuse.

"Okay, this is it," Roll said, shutting her locker. "Snake Man? Really? He's designed for stealth and assassination. There is no reason for him to be in a school."

"Roll, wait—" Rock started, but he was cut off by Mr. Takashima waving him down.

"Rock! Just the student I needed. Can you help me move these AV carts? The wheels are stuck again."

Rock hesitated, looking at Roll, then at Bert. Bert was just heading to Gym class. Snake Man was trailing him closely. "I'll be right there, Mr. Takashima." He turned to Roll. "Just... keep an eye on them? Please don't start anything."

"I won't start anything," Roll promised. "But I'm going to finish it if they try."

Rock went to help the teacher. Roll signaled Blues. "Gym hallway. Let's go."

The hallway leading to the gymnasium was quiet. Most students were already changing. Bert was lagging behind, struggling with a jammed zipper on his backpack.

"Top Man," Bert sighed. "Can you stop spinning? You're making me dizzy."

"Can't stop the rhythm, Bert!" Top Man chimed, doing a flourish. "Movement is life!"

"Detecting three hostiles," Snake Man hissed suddenly. He didn't rise; he lowered himself further, his shoulder-cannons tracking. "Approaching from the rear flank."

Bert turned. Blocking the hallway were Dixwell, Dez, and Dag.

"Well, well," Dixwell sneered, cracking his knuckles. "Finally. The spinning ballerina and the reptile. I think we can handle these two."

"Dix?" Bert backed up. "What are you doing?"

"Teaching you a lesson, cousin," Dez said, stepping forward. "You think you're special because Uncle Albert sends you toys? You're just a glitch in the family code."

"Please," Bert stammered. "I don't want to fight."

"We do," Dixwell growled. He lunged for Bert.

"Threat active," Snake Man said.

The robot moved with terrifying speed. He didn't fire. He simply coiled. He slid between Bert and Dixwell, rising up to his full height, his green armor clashing with the fluorescent lights. "State your intent, or be neutralized."

"Get out of my way, you walking handbag!" Dixwell shouted, shoving Snake Man.

It was a mistake. Snake Man didn't budge. He grabbed Dixwell's wrist.

At that exact moment, Blues and Roll rounded the corner.

What they saw was this: Snake Man, a known Wily assassin, gripping the wrist of a student (Dixwell), while Bert cowered against the lockers.

Paranoia, fueled by days of tension, took the wheel.

"Let him go!" Blues shouted. He didn't ask questions. He didn't scan. He fired.

A yellow plasma shot clipped Snake Man's shoulder. The robot hissed in pain, his grip loosening.

"Hostiles engaged!" Top Man yelled, abandoning his dance. He threw a top at Blues.

"They're attacking students!" Roll yelled. She activated her sweeper-bot, sending it skittering across the floor to trip Top Man.

"No! Wait!" Bert screamed, but his voice was drowned out by the chaos.

Snake Man, damaged and confused, defaulted to combat mode. "Multiple aggressors. Protecting asset." He released search snakes—not to attack, but to create a barrier around Bert.

But Blues saw the snakes moving across the floor and thought they were targeting the other kids. "He's flooding the hall! Roll, get behind me!"

Dixwell Boltz, realizing the cavalry had arrived for the wrong side, grinned. "Yeah! Get 'em! They went crazy! They tried to kill us!"

"You liars!" Bert shouted.

Dixwell took advantage of the confusion. While Snake Man was distracted by Blues' shield-bash, Dixwell circled around and grabbed Bert by the collar, shoving him hard against the lockers. "Shut up, you little rat!"

"Ow!" Bert cried out, hitting his head.

The sound cut through the fight.

Rock skidded around the corner, having finished with the AV carts. He took in the scene instantly. Blues fighting Snake Man. Top Man spinning dizzily after being tripped. And Dixwell Boltz pinning Bert to the wall.

Rock didn't need a scan. He knew.

"Blues! STOP!" Rock bellowed.

Blues froze, his Proto Buster charged. "Rock! They're attacking the Boltz kids!"

"No, they're not!" Rock pointed. "Look!"

Blues looked. Really looked.

Snake Man wasn't firing at the students. He was shielding Bert's abandoned backpack. Top Man wasn't attacking; he was trying to intercept Blues.

And Dixwell Boltz was the one holding Bert.

"Hey!" A sharp voice cracked like a whip.

Chelsea stood at the other end of the hall, Alan beside her. She walked straight toward the Boltz brothers, notebook in hand, eyes blazing with a fury that terrified Dixwell more than any robot.

"Let. Him. Go," Chelsea commanded.

"This ain't your business, reporter girl," Dixwell sneered, though his grip loosened slightly.

"It became my business when you tried to frame bodyguards for assault," Chelsea said coldly. "We saw the whole thing from the library door. You cornered Bert. Snake Man intervened. And you used Blues' paranoia to cover your own tracks."

She turned her gaze to Blues. The Red bot flinched, his visor dimming slightly.

"You," she said to Blues, "didn't even check, did you? You just saw a Wily bot and pulled the trigger."

Blues lowered his arm, the charge fading. He looked at Snake Man, whose shoulder was smoking. He looked at Bert, who was rubbing his head.

"I..." Blues started, but the words died.

"Search Snake unit damaged," Snake Man hissed, clutching his arm. He ignored Blues and slithered over to Bert. "Asset status?"

"I'm okay, Snake Man," Bert sniffled. "Are you okay?"

"Armor integrity at 85%. Functional." Snake Man turned his cold eyes to Dixwell. "The asset is secure. Further aggression will result in... permanent detention."

Dixwell looked at the damaged robot, then at Rock (who looked disappointed), then at Chelsea (who looked ready to ruin his social life forever).

"Whatever," Dixwell muttered, shoving past them. "Come on, guys. This is boring."

The Boltz brothers retreated, though they shrank away as they passed Rock.

The hallway fell silent.

Roll walked over to Top Man, who was trying to un-dent his head casing. "I... I'm sorry," she muttered. "I thought..."

"You thought we were monsters," Top Man said, though his voice lacked its usual pep. "Common mistake. Usually, we are."

Blues walked over to Snake Man. The two machines stared at each other. Fire and venom.

"You protected him," Blues said. It was an accusation and an admission.

"That is the programming," Snake Man replied. "Dr. Wily was specific. 'Don't let the Lights or those idiot cousins touch a hair on his head.'"

"I shouldn't have fired," Blues admitted. He didn't say sorry—Blues didn't really do 'sorry'—but he reached into his belt and tossed a small repair nanite canister to Snake Man.

Snake Man caught it. "Acceptable."

Bert could only face palm. "Can we... can we just go to class now? Please?"

"Yeah," Rock said, putting an arm around Bert's shoulders. "Let's go."

As they walked away, Chelsea lingered with Blues.

"You have to trust someone eventually, Blues," she said softly.

Blues watched Snake Man limping protectively alongside Bert. "Trust is a glitch, Chelsea," he muttered, adjusting his scarf. "But... maybe some glitches aren't so bad."

From that day on, when the Wily bots arrived at school, nobody flinched. Hard Man helped the janitor move bleachers. Top Man taught the cheer squad a new routine. And Snake Man... well, Snake Man just sat in the corner of the library, staring at anyone who looked at Bert wrong.

The paranoia faded, replaced by the strangest normal Mega City Junior High had ever seen.