Worlds collide as an ancient god terrorizes the Venture Family with lucrative grave robbing rights on the line. They'll need to team up with some rather unlikely ducks in the quest to overcome him and deposit their hard earned loot with the British Museum.

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Sequel to Let's Dewey an Adventure

Commission for Ploish, many thanks to them for help bringing this project to life!

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Previously on Escape to the House of Mummies

“Do people not appreciate the fact that long abandoned temples are supposed to be abandoned,” Rusty huffed as he sprinted through the forest.

Arrows and darts rained down around him, their pointed and likely venom-filled tips nipping at his heels.

Dean yelped as he wove back and forth, trying to serpentine in order to avoid them. “Technically the tour books never said anything about it being abandoned. It just said that these temples are extremely old.”

“I just…” Rusty huffed, feeling his older frame start to labour against such exercise. “I just don’t understand why anyone would willingly live in a drafty old temple from the bronze age when modern amenities exist. I know we’re in Guatemala, Dean, but there have been great advances in the world of modern appliances. The freak-” Another puffing huff of labour parted his lips. “The freaking fruit cart back in that last village had an air conditioner built into it. They aren’t exactly space age technology anymore.”

Brock grunted. “I don’t think these people really care all that much about modern amenities, Doc. You know, comes with the whole territory about them being religious freaks who are protecting their gods.”

“Worthless deities gifted to them by equally worthless ancestors who thought that the stars above spoke to them when they were tripping balls on Ayahuasca,” Rusty huffed. “Not really the kind of people I would trust with my spiritual enlightenment. Though what do I know? I’m just some godless heathen after all.”

Brock suddenly skidded to a standstill and put out both of his powerful arms, bringing the trio to an immediate and quick stop. Which was very fortunate as they now stood upon the edge of a cliff, looking down at the broiling waters below.

Dean swallowed a lump in his throat. “Oh fff…”

“Language Dean,” Rusty chastised, knowing what sinful little words were about to come forth. They were just upon the tip of his tongue as well.

Suddenly, the brush behind them exploded and a gaggle of warriors dressed like Ancient Egyptian mummies sprung forth. They held out dart guns, actual guns, and bows and arrows, leveling them all at the crew with lethal scorn in their eyes.

“Oh, fuck me,” Rusty whispered.

Brock glared at them. “Why are you dressed like mummies?”

“Because we’re guarding a pyramid,” one of the warriors bellowed, thumping a fist against his chest. “And we must dress as such.”

“Yes, but you’re dressed like Egyptian mummies,” Rusty grumbled, adjusting his glasses. “And we’re nowhere close to Egypt. In fact, we’re pretty much on the opposite side of the world from Egypt.” He glared at them and thrust out an accusatory finger. “And to think they call me the graverobber in this exchange. You folks don’t even know what cultural tradition you’re supposed to be appropriating from.”

The mummies all exchanged looks and for a moment it seemed like some sort of self-realization might actually come over them. Only it didn’t and they instead snapped back to attention and focused the full might of their lethal arsenal upon the Venture crew.

“You’re coming with us!” the lead warrior barked.

Rusty opened his mouth to jab back but looked at Brock who merely shook his head. Even he seemed to think that this fight was lost.

“Fine,” Rusty grumbled. “We’ll come with you.”

---

“Freeze!” a voice barked as the door broke inwards. 

An armoured chassis sped forward into the room, two robotic fists primed for punching and a pie cannon set to stun but not kill. This tank plowed ahead without worry, its threat sensors not picking up on anything in the immediate surroundings.

“What the…” Fenton whispered.

The sensors weren’t picking up on anything because there wasn’t anything there in the first place besides for endless boxes.

“Is the room secured?” a voice called.

Fenton looked over his shoulder and towards Della, watching her step into the room with purpose, her metallic foot clanking against the floor. She looked around herself, looking gravely serious. In her wake were two younger ducks who followed behind; one wearing a green hoodie and another a blue one.

“There’s no one here,” Fenton said, still scanning the room for any sign of a threat. Though either the target was good at avoiding his state-of-the-art equipment or it wasn’t there in the first place.

“What do you mean no one’s here?” Dewey said. “I thought we were being sent on a cool mission because someone tripped an alarm?”

Fenton pushed forward, using his eyes just in case his equipment was failing him. But even the old fashion method revealed nothing, just a room full of boxes and…

And a magical portal that was currently glowing in the middle of the room, resting upon a very fancy platform.

Fenton came to a stop and was soon joined by the others.

Louie whistled, looking at the magical artifact. “Hello gorgeous, where has Uncle Scrooge been keeping you all this time?”

“Safely locked away in this vault,” Della grumbled. “Because that leads somewhere extremely dangerous that is filled with some extremely unpleasant people.”

Dewey’s eyes widened. “And I bet that this portal has something to do with why the alarm was tripped.”

“Except the alarms were triggered by someone entering the building and not someone exiting it,” Fenton stated. He lifted a hand and a hologram appeared from his opened palm, showing off the blueprints of the building. “As you can see the alarms were set off in this order.”

Red blips formed upon the map in an order that went from the exterior of the building and through the halls before ending up in the vault itself. Whoever had tripped them was clearly breaking in and not breaking out.

“I thought this place was supposed to have world class security,” Della grumbled.

Dewey snorted. “It’s Scrooge we're talking about here. He probably subcontracted the construction to someone who promised a whole lot for dirt cheap and then under-delivered on it.”

Della sighed and closed her eyes. “I hate that you’re right.”

“Any luck on getting through to the security footage?” Louie asked.

He had made his way over to a box and peaked into it, grinning nice and wide. As he reached inside, he managed to find an impressive ruby that glimmered in the low light of the room. He pulled it out and grabbed a little magnifying glass from his hoodie’s pouch, using it to appraise the gemstone, whistling to himself as he did so.

Della came over and also looked at the box, reading the label on it.

Cursed Gems of Duckara.

Warning: Possession of Gems Will Transfer Curse

And she then promptly plucked the ruby from Louie’s hands and tossed it back inside, much to his dismay.

“Hey that was worth a fortune,” Louie grumbled.

Della placed a hand on his shoulder and briskly moved him towards the portal. “And you have a fortune back at home.”

Fenton hummed. “I think I might finally be getting through.” He snorted. “You’d think Scrooge would give me admin access to his systems but…” He growled as a red light flared on his visor. “But either he’s paranoid or hasn’t paid someone to do it yet.”

“Trying Dewey123,” Dewey stated.

Fenton’s eyes glowed and suddenly a green light emerged from his visor, causing him to make a victorious little noise and fist pump. And a moment later, some security camera footage started playing upon the hologram in his fist, showing off exactly who was breaking in. 

The massive figure’s presence made both Louie and Dewey’s eyes widened and filled Della with a deep discomfort.

By the end of it, her gaze went towards the portal.

“Toth-Ra,” Dewey whispered. “What is he doing here?”

Louie shrugged. “I thought he’d still be in his eternal slumber back in Egypt.”

“So, are we going in after him?” Della asked. “Or are we making this their problem?”

Fenton sighed. “It’s our world’s mess. So, it should be our world’s solution.”

Della nodded. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

“So are we going to save the world!” Dewey beamed.

“Sure are,” Della grumbled. “Just not our world.”

---

Rusty was hit in the back and forced down upon his knees, grunting loudly as they collided roughly with the harsh obsidian stone underneath him. As he looked around, he felt his stomach drop. Not because of the numerous guards but because it seemed that this place had already been picked clean, all the valuables stripped from it, leaving nothing but stone behind.

“Oh, come on,” he huffed. “Doesn’t anyone know the meaning of the word sacred anymore.”

“Shut up, Doc,” Brock grumbled. “We have bigger things to worry about.”

The entourage of cultural misfits dressed like mummies looked towards a ledge in the room, falling to their knees and prostrating in prayer.

“Oh, what now?” Rusty grumbled.

Suddenly, a hulking figure emerged from the darkness, lit by torches. He was easily taller than anyone else in the room, including Brock and was a mummy much like his followers. In his hand was a sceptre with a big red ruby affixed to it, seemingly glowing with some strange power.

Though Rusty assumed it was just a clever trick of the lighting.

“All praise Toth-Ra,” one of the guards chanted. “All praise his all seeing light.”

Rusty tried to examine this false prophet closely, seeing that something was amiss. There was something strange about his face besides for the piercing yellow eyes that broke through the cotton bandages.

“Is that a duckbill,” Dean whispered.

Rusty’s eyes widened as he realized that he was right. “I believe it is Dean.”

Brock sighed. “Are we dealing with more interdimensional bullshit again?” He closed his eyes. “We are dealing with interdimensional bullshit again, aren’t we?”

“Who are these captives?” Toth-Ra bellowed, his deep voice echoing throughout the room and making his followers prostrated even harder against the floor.

“Gringos who came to defile your temple!” a guard responded. “We captured them when they were trying to pillage the royal cemetery.”

Brock looked at Rusty who sighed and looked away. 

“Okay,” Rusty grumbled. “Maybe I’m a little bit of a grave robber though my father got away with calling it archeology so I don’t see why I should be held to a different standard.”

“What should we do with them?” another mummified guard asked.

Toth-Ra examined the three humans, his gaze narrowing.

“May I be so bold and make a recommendation,” Rusty stated.

Toth-Ra’s gaze narrowed but he nodded.

“The kings of this region were known for showing great mercy to their captives!” Rusty beamed, motioning to the mummy king. “And we were just wayward travellers who didn’t know much about your customs or ceremonies. It would be most enlightened of you to let us go with minimal delay or penalty and we’d promise to spread tales of your mercy to the wider world.”

Toth-Ra snorted. “Do you think I was born yesterday?”

“Err…” Rusty chuckled nervously. “I am just used to you ducks being a little uncomfortable around the concept of wanting to murder people.”

Toth-Ra’s eyes narrowed. “You know other ducks.” His attention snapped towards his guards. “Take them to the torture pits and prime them for interrogation!”

---

Della snarled as she drew the rock back above her head, thwacking it down against the iron chain with all her might. Unfortunately, the shackle didn’t budge, merely shuddering under the impact. This only made her growl in frustration.

Fenton meanwhile tried to bend the chain with his bare hands though to no avail. It turned out he wasn’t exactly the strongest of ducks in the world without his armour.

“I can’t believe those mummies managed to disable my suit,” he growled.

Louie snorted. “I’m surprised that all it took was a single arrow to the battery pack. Kind of feels like it was designed with video game logic in mind.” He rolled his eyes. “Like oh no, you better not hit the big red weak spot on the back of my armour.”

“We probably should’ve realized that Toth-Ra would’ve left someone to guard the portal,” Dewey said.

“I didn’t think that he’d have enough time to assemble a whole army in like eight hours,” Della grumbled, flicking her wrist outwards. “Not even Glomgold could do that and that dude is an expert of hiring mercenaries on short notice for ridiculous reasons.”

“Maybe there is some like…” Dewey rolled his wrist through the air. “Some timey-wimey stuff going on and it’s been way more than eight hours over here?”

Della shrugged.

Suddenly the boulder that had been blocking the entrance shifted and moved out of the way, revealing a small army of their captors along with a few…

“Oh no,” Della whispered.

Brock sighed. “Why am I not surprised?”

“What are you three doing here?” Fenton chided.

Louie blinked. “Wait, you all know each other?”

“They’re the reason that Scrooge decided to bury this portal somewhere safe where no one could find it,” Della said, glaring at the humans. “This dimension is full of freaks who only exist to war profiteer and swindle people out of their money.”

Louis smirked. “I think I’m going to like these people.”

Rusty flashed a smile that was possibly supposed to be charming but only came off as utterly creepy. “And would Scrooge happen to be that rich uncle that you told me all about the last time we encountered each other, madame.”

“Hey Dewey,” Dean said, waving at the duck.

Dewey nodded towards him before waving back. “Dean.”

“What are you even doing here?” Della grumbled.

“We were merely…” Rusty began, pausing as he searched for the right word, “helping refresh the stock of a few renown museum collections with the artifacts we planned to recover from these fine people.”

“Graverobbing,” a guard said, glaring at him.

Della scoffed. “About what I would expect from the likes of you.”

“You wound me,” Rusty said, returning to his smile. “I can assure you that not everything I do is motivated by money.”

“Why is the strange monkey trying to flirt with mom?” Louie hissed.

Brock sighed. “Just ignore him kid.”

The guards roughly shoved the three of them inside before shifting the boulder back into the place, locking them all within.

Della huffed and brought the rock back down again, feeling her leg ring due to the reverberation of the impact. Though she didn’t care as she tried it again and again and…

The iron chain didn’t budge and she let out a feral snarl as she flung the rock at a wall with all the force she could manage. Though this didn’t accomplish much except for losing said rock as it shattered against the obsidian.

“Here let me try,” Brock said.

He came over and grabbed the chain in both of his hands, bending it with seemingly very little force. Though with a soft grunt, he managed to snap one of the links in two. He hadn’t even broken a sweat before moving onto Fenton, then Dewey, then Louie, breaking them one after another as if it were snapping a pencil and not an iron chain.

“Look, I know that we might’ve gotten off on the wrong foot…” He looked at Louie’s leg. “Err… flipper last time we met but I’m not going to be able to get us out of this hellhole alone. So, I’d suggest we bury the hatchet, for now, and try to figure out something together. Does that sound good to everyone?”

Della sighed. “Sure, but I’m working with you, not him…” 

She thrust a feathered finger at Rusty who seemed wounded, holding a hand to his chest.

Brock nodded. “Sounds good.” He then settled upon the floor, sitting cross-legged. “Anyways, let's come up with a plan.”

---

Now on Escape to the House of Mummies

“Who even is that phoney god?” Rusty asked.

Dewey sighed. “Toth-Ra, an ancient Egyptian god who we thwarted like two years ago and thought was dead.”

“Wait, wait, wait” Brock said. “Like are we talking about an actual ancient god here or is this just some guy in a mask who’s pretending to be a god to scare people.”

Louie grinned. “A little bit of both. When we first found him, he was just some jerk pretending to be a god. He was doing some sort of money-making scheme on his unsuspecting followers.”

“But…” Dewey picked up the story. “When we’d finished with that guy it turned out that there was actually some sort of prophecy that resurrected the real Toth-Ra and we had to deal with that too. Though considering what we saw from this Toth-Ra, this seems to be a little column A and a little of column B.”

“Yeah, he’s far more articulate than the last time we met,” Louie added.

“Well obviously you didn’t deal with him very well if he came back,” Rusty grumbled.

Dewey shrugged. “I mean you bury a mummy in a tomb a thousand miles away and you bet your feathers that he should still be there in a couple of years. I have no idea how he could’ve possibly escaped from something like that. We removed the curse from his body so he shouldn’t be anything more than a dried-out husk.”

“Take it from me kid,” Brock said. “You have to make sure that you chop off the head and burn it. If you don’t do that then a mummy is bound to come back.”

Dewey sighed. “But the prophecy said.”

“Prophecies say a lot of things but you can always count on some bored priest making like ten more of them in his lifetime,” Brock stated. “But if there isn’t a mummy’s body to resurrect in the first place then it's not something that you really need to worry about.”

“Well obviously we need a plan,” Rusty stated. “Doesn’t matter why this mummy is here or what it plans to do but we need to get out of here before he comes back for us. I would very much like to avoid being mummified if it were at all possible. That would be very unpleasant and I’d prefer to save my skin.”

Della glared at him.

“Err… I mean we need to stop him for the good of the world,” Rusty said, rolling his eyes. “Is that better?”

Della hummed. “How about an ambush once they try to collect us for interrogation?” 

“Might work in your world,” Brock stated. “And I know that I could probably take them on but this world is a lot more lethal than yours.” He nodded towards Fenton. “Remember what you did to the Monarch’s nose? Those are the rules we’re playing with over here.”

Rusty hummed and closed his eyes, tapping a finger against his chin. The attention of the room turned towards him.

A million ideas were currently coming together within his mind, though primarily he called upon the memories of the last time he’d been trapped in an ancient temple like this.  He remembered that he had to ask Orpheus for help. Though he’d like to avoid that, if at all possible; both to preserve his pride and because the quack was away at a conference.

He cracked open an eye and scanned his surroundings, trying to figure out what the room looked like. Obviously there had to be some sort of opening somewhere in here, to let fresh air in, or else they would be suffocating to death soon enough.

And then he spotted it. It was a sizeable hole near the ceiling with a ledge directly next to it.

“I have an idea,” Rusty said, pointing towards it.

Brock looked up and sighed. “Are we seriously doing this again?”

“Relax Brock, I’m not going to forget about you this time,” Rusty said with a very pronounced roll of his eyes. “I promise.”

Della frowned. “What is he planning?”

Brock nodded towards the ceiling, drawing her attention towards the hole as well. Upon seeing it, her eyes lit up. 

“A way out?” she asked.

Brock shrugged. “Probably pretty narrow, only someone small and slender enough could slip on through.”

“I’m small,” Della stated. “I could slip through and probably handle all of those goons outside.”

“Nah, that’s too risky,” Brock said.

Della glared at him. “I can handle myself in a fight.”

“Maybe in your dimension,” Brock replied, holding up a defensive hand. “You seem like a fighter but we’re in a universe where guns and consequences exist. You’d be outnumbered like a hundred-to-one and they’d probably be eating duck tonight if you tried something reckless like that.”

Fenton shuddered.

“Plus, even if you did manage to get through all those freaks, there would still be the issue of moving that boulder,” Brock added. “You look strong but that boulder looks heavy enough that you’d need several people to even get it to budge in the first place.”

Della huffed. “Then what do you propose?”

Rusty smirked and reached up to adjust his glasses. “I go up there, myself, and return to my jet. Once there, I’ll head back to my facility where I have a prototype arsenal that can handle both that boulder and all of these… mummies.”

“That…” Della hummed, ready to fight his point but stopping herself instead. It was actually a pretty good idea. “Yeah, that could actually work.”

“The issue is that Doc has a habit of forgetting about the people he leaves behind,” Brock jeered, shooting a critical look at him. “Last time we were in this position we had to escape ourselves while he was busy prancing around his lab trying to show off to his friends.”

Dean shuddered. “I can still hear Poe’s screams.”

“It’s okay Dean,” Brock said, placing a hand on his back. “So can I…”

“Then…” Fenton snapped his fingers. “We send someone with Doc to make sure he comes back. We’re all ducks which means we could probably get through there with ease.”

“I’m not sending all of you,” Brock said.

Della huffed. “Why not?”

“Because you four don’t have a reason to come back for us if you escape. This means we’d still be stuck in here,” Brock stated.

“We’re heroes, we don’t just…” Della began.

Brock narrowed his gaze. “I don’t operate like that. There is no such thing as selfless heroes in this world. So, I’m keeping some collateral to make sure you come back and get us out of here.”

“I’ll go,” Louie stated, lifting his flipper.

Everyone looked at him with various shades of confusion and skepticism.

“What?” he shrugged. “You think that I want to stay in this chamber when there’s cool science stuff I can pilfer instead.”

Rusty cocked a brow.

Louie’s expressions slipped. “I mean patents I can legally license for my own prospective business ventures.”

“And I’ll go with him,” Dewey said.

Brock shook his head. “I want to keep one of the kids.”

“Duck Jesus,” Della huffed. “You’re cold.”

“You don’t stay alive by being warm,” Brock replied, nodding towards her. “But you seem capable so why don’t you head out with Doc?”

Della shuddered and looked towards Rusty who smirked right on back at her.

“Yes, Della, why don’t you come with me?” he asked, an eerie and teasing edge to his voice making her skin positively crawl. “I’m sure you could keep me focused.”

Della shuddered but held her tongue.

Though Rusty ignored this discomfort, having something else in mind besides perusing the furry stock. After all, she was the heiress of quite a fortune. And he was sure that given enough time with his faultless charm, he might be able to finagle himself a couple of weapons contracts out of her. They might be ducks but surely even ducks had enemies who needed to be handled in an overwhelming fashion.

Della looked to Brock who let out a disappointed sigh. “If he gives you trouble there’s a tranq dart in the cockpit.”

“Brock!” Rusty snapped.

Brock shrugged. “What do you want from me, you’re uh… you’re getting that look.”

“What look?” Rusty asked.

“That creepy look that usually results in women pepper spraying you,” Dean said

“That look doesn’t exist!” Rusty interjected.

Everyone looked at him.

“Yes!”

“Yep.”

“Sure does.”

“That’s totally a thing.”

Rusty sighed. “Fine, fine, I’ll turn my charm down to a mere smoulder for the sake of everyone’s collective survival.”

Brock got to his feet and looked at the little hole in the ceiling. He brought his hands out and started to measure it with them, seemingly trying to pinpoint the shot or something of that nature.

“Wish you still had that robot suit,” Brock stated, looking at Fenton “The flight systems would’ve made this a lot easier.”

Fenton sighed. “Unfortunately, I’m just a guy when I don’t have it.”

Brock shrugged. “Aren’t we all just guys?”

“Says the walking tank,” Fenton grumbled.

Brock shook his head and looked at Louie. “How do you feel about testing this out?”

Della stepped forward. “How about I try it out before you attempt this on one of my kids?”

Brock shrugged and squatted down, holding out his palm and motioning for Della to grab it. 

Della looked at it skeptically for a moment before taking it.

“So, what are you…” Della started before she was cut off by a shrill scream as Brock threw her quite forcefully.

She arched through the air and up to the ledge. With a thud, she landed upon it, only slightly worse for wear. An angry huff shot forth and she scowled down at Brock who was chuckling at her.

“What are you glaring for!” he called. “It worked.”

Next, he offered his hand to Louie who looked at it with equal skepticism before carefully taking it. Much the same, Brock hurled him up towards the ledge where Della caught him, placing him carefully upon the ground.

This meant that it was now Rusty’s turn as he came over to Brock, bearing a nice big smile.

Brock drew in a breath. “This isn’t going to be fun, Doc.”

He offered his hand and Rusty took it.

“I can put on a brave face for the kids,” Rusty said.

Though, like all the others, he was launched through the air. He screamed at the top of his lungs as he arched through it. For a moment, it seemed that Della might catch him but she sidestepped at the last second, sending him crashing into an obsidian wall.

“Fuck!” he barked as his nose cracked against the hard material.

His face hurt, it hurt a lot, feeling like every single fibre of cartilage had been shattered in a heartbeat.

He groaned and held a hand to his nose, going green as it came back coated in blood. This led to him glaring at Della. “Nice catch.”

Della shrugged, bearing a shit eating grin. “Nice flight. Not bad for someone without wings.”

“Twenty-four hours!” Brock called. “I want you back here in twenty-four hours!”

Rusty saluted. “You got it, Brock.”

“Keep my kid safe!” Della called.

Brock nodded and winked at her. “Don’t worry about Dewey. If anyone comes for him, they’ll have to go through me first, I promise.”

Della smirked and nodded, seemingly a little more at ease.

And with that they went their separate ways.

---

“This is so freaking cool!” Louie beamed.

Right in front of him was a sleek looking metal jet that would put anything that Uncle Scrooge owned to shame. It looked modern… no more than modern, seeming to come right out of the pages of a science fiction comic.

Rusty stumbled forwards, holding his shirt to his nose. The fabric was now drenched bright red. “That would be the X1, my father built her a few decades ago and I decided to keep the old girl around. You ducks have anything like this back on your side of the portal?”

“Even better,” Della replied. “I was a rocket pilot.” She flashed a proud smile and pointed a thumb at herself. “I also just happened to be the first duck to ever land on the moon.”

“Oh, so your moon landing happened recently then?” Rusty asked, smirking knowingly. “Guess your society is a few decades behind our own. Though if you were hoping to leapfrog ahead to our level of development, I’m sure I could sell you a couple of computers and rocket designs.”

Louie grinned at this, practically tasting the dollars.

He stepped forwards and offered his hand. “Louie Duck, heir of the Scrooge McDuck fortune and the CEO and CFO of Louie Inc.”

“Louie…” Della began before getting a knowing smile. “You know what, go for it.”

Louie’s eyes widened. 

Parental consent to swindle? That didn’t come often.

“CEO huh?” Rusty asked, cocking a brow. Though he still took Louie’s hand and shook it.

“Great uncle decided to give me a few portfolios to manage and I’m always keeping an eye out for fresh business prospects,” Louie said. “I don’t mean to brag but I’ve kept my fair share of failing companies solvent over the last few years.”

Rusty nodded. “Well, I’m always interested in conducting business and you lot seem a lot less likely to run with the bag. I swear to God, I need to start taking down payments from every separatist warlord and freedom fighter out there. They always try to screw me over in the end.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little fob, pressing a button on it. A moment later and a set of stairs descended from the belly on his plane, leading up into it. He took the lead and ascended the stairs, heading into the cockpit.

“You supply warlords?” Della asked.

Rusty shrugged. “Anyone who’s willing to pay really. I know it isn’t strictly ethical but the super science business isn’t really the most ethical of businesses out there in the first place. After all, there aren’t a whole lot of Good Samaritans who are chomping at the bits to buy death rays and robot super soldiers nowadays.”

Louie grinned. “I, for one, am a Good Samaritan who would very much like to buy a death ray.”

“No, you would not,” Della grumbled before looking at Rusty. “Do you seriously just think of everything as a chance to make money?”

Rusty shrugged. “More or less. I assumed you would understand something like that considering your own background.”

He plopped down into one of the seats and started to buckle up.

As Della and Dewey entered as well, they noticed that there was a blue robot at the helm, currently in sleep mode with its dim eyes focused on the terrain up ahead.

“Why would I know anything about that?” Della growled, getting into her own seat and buckling up as well.

Rusty shrugged. “You come from money. You should know that you don’t build a fortune without cracking a few unethical eggs.” He reached out and knocked on the robot’s head, snapping the thing to life in a beeping frenzy. “I’m sure there are a few criminal enterprises in Scrooge’s portfolio or a little bit of illegal union busting or selling to scummy people or…”

Della opened her mouth to speak.

“To be fair, Uncle Scrooge has done all those things,” Louie interjected.

Della sighed. “I hate that you’re right about that.”

“The difference between me and this Scrooge is that I’m more upfront about my profit seeking motives,” Rusty dictated before nodding to the robot. “Helper, if you would take us home, please.”

The robot beeped an affirmation and soon the ship started to shudder, lifting off of the ground by jets aimed directly down.

Della’s eyes widened. “Does this baby have vertical take-off and landing?”

“My father developed the tech and sold it to the British,” Rusty said proudly, closing his eyes. “Was considered a war criminal in Argentina for a decade because of it.”

Louie smirked and looked around, taking in all of the fixtures of the plane. He liked it, he liked it a lot. Something like this would be a fine addition to Louie Inc’s fleet of aircraft. 

“So, how many of these could I buy?” he asked.

Rusty hummed. “I could have ten done and delivered within a year.”

“Err…” Della flashed a tense smile. “Maybe we should talk about this with Scrooge before making any deals like that?”

Louie sighed. “Do we have to?”

“Yes…” Della rolled her eyes. “Yes, we need to do that.”

---

Brock placed a hand against the boulder, patting it down and examining it closely. His brow tented as his training started to play out. A geology course came to mind, one that talked about the various signs of weakness in all kinds of rocks.

There was a fissure in this boulder, a decently sized crack in the side of it. If exploited properly that might be a way out.

“What are you doing?” Dewey asked.

“Looking for a Plan B,” Brock said. 

“Why do you need a plan B?” Fenton asked. He got to his feet and made his way over. “I mean I barely know Della but…”

“Because my dad is unreliable,” Dean grumbled. “And he has a way of making other people unreliable by mere osmosis.”

Brock pointed at Dean. “Because of that.”

He knocked upon the boulder a couple of times, sizing it up. Though his eyes promptly narrowed as he realized something after a couple of sturdy knocks.

“This thing is hollow,” he said.

Dewey cocked a brow. “Hollow?”

“And I don’t think this is even really made of rock,” Brock grumbled. 

He drew his fist back and slammed it forwards, pushing it through the surface of the ‘rock’ and into a void within. The whole surface was made of paper mache and the interior was nothing more than a wire frame holding it all together.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Brock grumbled. “No wonder they were able to move this thing.”

“It’s fake?” Fenton asked.

“Should’ve been way more obvious,” Brock chided.

Though instead of punching through any further, he pulled his fist out and turned back to the assembled room, surveying who he was with. He had two kids and a duck who seemed about as useful as Rusty outside of his armour.

“Is your armour functional?” Brock asked.

Fenton bit his lip. “The battery pack was hit by something during our last fight and it seemed to fry the electronics but…” He puffed out his chest. “But I’m sure that if we managed to find it, I could probably get it working again.”

“You sure?” Brock asked.

He rubbed at his chin. Normally, he was used to soloing a hopeless fight but he wouldn’t be opposed to having a little back up this time around.

“And you’re not squeamish, are you?” Brock asked. “Because this isn’t going to be like a fight back home.”

“I…” Fenton paused but nodded. “If it means protecting the kids then I’m willing to get a little blood on my flippers.”

Dewey beamed. “This is going to be so cool!” He then sprung forwards. “What do you want us to do?”

“You and Dean need to stay behind me and follow my instructions carefully,” Brock stated, holding up a hand as Dewey’s expression slipped. “Which isn’t to say that there won’t be any cool stuff to do but I’m the expert in this field, you get me?”

Dewey nodded, getting a slightly hopeful smile. “Can I kill a guy?”

Fenton and Brock’s eyes both widened.

“What, I’m assuming that will be what you two are doing, right?” Dewey asked.

Brock chuckled and came over, resting a beefy hand upon Dewey’s shoulder. “Sure thing kid, you can kill a guy.”

“Mr. Brock,” Fenton interjected.

Though his critique fell silent as Brock turned towards him and winked, flashing a cocksure smile. One that Dewey seemed oblivious of as Fenton stepped back and Brock turned his attention back towards the duckling.

“But if you want to do something like that then I expect you to follow my orders to the word, alright Dewey?” Brock asked.

Dewey nodded and then flashed a salute. “Sir! Yes, Sir!”

Brock then got back up and looked out upon the room, working his jaw. There wasn’t a whole lot of stuff inside of here except for a few twigs, some discarded metal shackles, and a few pieces of stone that had eroded over the years.

But still it was something.

The nucleus of a plan was starting to take root inside of his head.

---

Louie’s eyes widened as the jet started on its descent, breaking through the thick cloud layer and moving across the countryside at a decelerating pace. In the distance was some sort of facility made of shiny glass and opulent material with a statue out front that was noticeable even from this range.

It was almost enough to put some of Scrooge’s facilities to shame.

“Welcome to Venture Labs,” Rusty said. “Been in my family for three generations at this point. This place was once a crowning jewel of technological progress.”

He hissed as he fiddled with the thick cotton bandage that now covered his nose.

“Once?” Della asked, cocking a brow.

Rusty shrugged. “Things hit a bit of a snag over the last couple of decades since my father passed away. I’m still in the process of transitioning into being the patriarch for this family. I do enough work to keep the business afloat and that’s all that matters.”

The plane continued to come down, landing with a soft shudder upon a private runway that led towards an equally secluded hangar.

“Sounds like most of the stuff you’re selling isn’t even yours,” Della quipped.

Rusty’s gaze narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just saying you seem to mention a lot of inventions that were made by your father and not yourself,” Della replied, motioning around at the jet. “Wasn’t this jet designed by your father for example?”

“I’ve upgraded it,” Rusty replied, sounding a little terse. “If a design isn’t broken, I don’t see a reason that it should be put out of service. Did you know the Russians still use the same spacecraft that they developed back in the 1960s?”

Della cocked a brow. “Uh huh?”

Louie held up a hand. “Mom, mom, mom, don’t you think that maybe we shouldn’t antagonize our future business partner.”

“He probably still has the same business contacts as his daddy,” Della replied, glaring at him. “So, I don’t see why he would need anymore.”

Rusty growled and stood up. He thrust a hand into his pocket and grabbed the remote, using it to lower the walkway so they could exit.

The hanger was almost entirely empty with only a muscle car occupying space within. Honestly, it was a little sad, seeing a venue that was meant to house a whole fleet of jets and aeroplanes with so much empty space inside.

“I’m just saying that I know a thing or two about designing things,” Rusty chided, holding up his head quite proud. “Maybe they’re not as grand as jets or combat systems but I make things on a more personal level. Cell phones, computers, prosthetics…” He motioned to Della’s leg. “For example, what hack designed that for you?”

Della sucked in a breath, her eyes going wide. Her hands balled into fists and Louie braced himself for when they would start flying. Though they didn’t as she instead let out a heavy huff and showed a remarkable amount of restraint.

“I designed it myself,” she said.

Rusty glanced towards it. “It’s functional but rudimentary and surely must weigh about a tonne.”

“I’m strong enough,” Della grumbled.

“I’m just saying that…” Rusty began.

There was some rattling coming from off to the side and everyone’s attention snapped towards a room attached to the hanger. Della took a combat stance and Rusty seemed legitimately alarmed by whoever it could’ve been.

The door then opened and a short figure, who was about as tall as Della but with twice the head, emerged. He stumbled forwards with a box in his hands that seemed to contain a whole lot of scrap electronics.

Rusty sighed. “Billy, what are you doing here?”

“I needed some circuits for a project that I’m working on,” Billy answered. “And I…”

He stopped talking as his gaze snapped towards the two ducks currently standing in Rusty’s company. His eyes widened and he promptly dropped the box, causing it to clatter to the ground and send expensive components flying in every direction.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Billy said, snapping his fingers. “You’re… but… that’s…”

“Best not to think too hard about it, Billy,” Rusty said, wincing as he looked at the damage left behind. “I was just telling Della here that her prosthetic is amateurish in design.”

Billy came over and glanced at it himself, letting out a low whistle. “I’m a fan of the servos but the choice of material does seem like it’d be a little on the heavy side. Have you considered swapping out the metal for a polymer?”

“I built it with what I had on the freaking moon,” Della huffed. She then spun around and jabbed Rusty in the chest with a finger. “If you think you’re so smart then how about we see who can build a better prosthetic then?”

Rusty smirked. “Gladly. Though…” He adjusted his glasses. “What are the stakes to this little bet?”

“Mom,” Louie interjected.

Was he the only one who remembered that four other people were currently counting on them grabbing some high-tech weapons and heading back south?

Though he was promptly ignored as Della lifted a hand. Her gaze was locked upon Rusty in a cold scowl of utter disdain.

“If I win, you need to admit that you’re a hack,” Della stated.

Rusty smirked. “And if I win then you need to allow me an audience with that rich uncle of yours so I can try selling some of my designs to him.”

“Fine,” Della growled, sticking out her hand. “Do we have a deal?”

Rusty took it and gave it a firm shake. “We have a deal.”

---

A guard stood by the boulder. 

He was the only one stationed there to ensure that the prisoners stayed put. Though in his experience no one ever came to the realization that the massive rock was actually made of nothing more than paper mache and wire. It weighed like a hundred pounds max. 

It was an easy gig so he spared some time to look down at his smartphone and tap away at it, moving over to one of his Gacha Games.

“I really hope that this Genshin gets Impacted today,” he said, knowing much about this game.

Though the only thing that was impacted was his skull as a fist drove through the paper mache boulder and plowed into his head. He was dead in a moment, tragically just as he managed to get himself a five-star Genshin-mon.

“One down,” Brock said as he tore through the boulder. “Ninety-nine more to go.”

---

“Are we not going to talk about the fact that there are cartoon characters just one lab over?” Billy asked.

Rusty flicked his wrist and started to shuffle through his catalogue of materials. “They aren’t cartoon characters, Billy. They’re just uh… aliens from another dimension that happen to mimic the voices and mannerisms of popular cartoon characters. Though…” He pulled out a servo and plopped it down upon the desk. “That’s not really what you should be focusing on here. My reputation is at stake and you need to help me ensure that it remains intact.”

There was no way in the world that Rusty was going to lose to the likes of that duckish imp one room over. He had more bio-mechanical engineer experience in his pinkie than she possessed in her entire backwater universe. If she thought that steel was an appropriate material to use for a leg then she was vastly out of her league.

“So how exactly do we make a duck prosthetic?” Rusty asked.

Billy shrugged. “Why would I know?”

“Because…” Rusty pulled out a sheet of carbonate alloy, hefting it upon the desk. “You’re a surgeon and this feels like it should be your area of expertise.”

“Not really…” Billy shook his head. “I work on the human body, not some strange alien duck anatomy. You either want a xenobiologist or probably even a vet to help you with that.”

“Well, you’re the best I got,” Rusty said.

Billy sighed and made his way over, looking at the collection of materials. “Well, the first thing we should focus on is the weakness of her design. It was made of a bulky material and seemed heavy because of it.”

“Hence the carbonate alloy,” Rusty stated.

Billy nodded. “You’ll also need an antibiotic material for the connection point between the leg and her flesh though…” He snapped his fingers. “Maybe we could improve upon the nerve interface. It seems like her tech was old and we could probably upgrade the responsiveness of the appendage because of that.”

“Billy you’re a genius,” Rusty beamed before pursing his lips together. “Though uh… how do we do any of that?”

Billy sighed and moved over to a computer, quickly typing in ‘Duck Biology’ into Google. Though he promptly cried out and flinched away from the search results. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he yelped. “Why do they think that I want to know what a duck’s penis looks like?”

Though he soon landed upon a page which showed off the complete nervous system and blood work of a proper duck. 

Rusty peered over as well and frowned. “Why do I think this is going to be a clusterfuck?”

---

Della hefted a box onto her workstation, batting aside a light that hung overhead. She wiped at her brow and started to pull out various mechanical pieces that she’d seen in storage. Thankfully, this creep had more servos and gizmos in this facility than she’d seen anywhere else. This place put even Gyro’s lab to shame.

“Mom, are you sure this is a good idea?” Louie asked.

Della snorted. “Perfectly fine…” She chuckled and pulled out a servo. “I built my last model out of spare rocket parts while only having one leg. I can blow these freaks out of the water now that I actually have a proper workshop.” She growled. “They think I’m just some dumb rocket pilot but I’ll show them what a rocket pilot can really do.”

She looked at a piece of piping that she’d found, sizing it up and weighing it in her hand. 

“Too heavy,” she declared, tossing it over her shoulder where it clattered upon the floor. She then picked up another and did the same. “Too light.”

Louie opened his mouth. “But what about…”

“I don’t even know what half of these materials are,” Della groaned, picking up something shiny and steel looking. She brushed a finger across it before nodding to herself and adding it to her design. “But I’m sure we can make something half decent out of them. It’s less about science and more about putting together something that feels right, you know?”

“Mom…” Louie tried.

“And if you help me win this, then maybe I can see about adding a cash injection to Louie Inc,” Della said, winking at him. “Get you a little spending money to invest into a brand-new prosthetic division. How does that sound?”

Dollar signs practically erupted from Louie’s eyes.

“Well why didn’t you say so earlier?” Louie teased.

He came over to the computer and flicked it on, opening up a guest account. He pursed his lips together as he went over to something that looked vaguely like a search engine. Though he was perplexed by the strange assortment of symbols and apps on the computer screen.

Though he guessed that this world didn’t have a tech monopoly like Waddle dominating the market for literally everything tech related.

Della hummed as she picked up something golden and shiny, twirling it between her fingers. “Can you search if there are any research papers looking into replicating sensations within a cybernetic leg? I bet that would absolutely blow Doctor Venture’s design right out of the water.”

Louie nodded and typed away, finding an assortment of papers on the subject. He clicked on one and was pleased to see that someone else had already pre filled their credit card information for purchasing the license.

“Hey mom…” Louie began.

Della looked at him. “Yeah?”

“Can I max out Doctor Venture’s credit card?” Louie asked. 

Though even before getting permission, he was already well on his way over to what looked like this world’s Duckazon.

“Louie…” Della began, though paused and instead flashed a cruel smile. “I have never been so proud of you in my entire life. Make sure to buy me something nice while you’re at it.”

Louie smirked. “Way ahead of you mom.”

---

“I thought you said you could get this thing fixed?” Brock barked.

There was movement to his side and he whipped around. He grabbed an approaching guard by his feet and started to swing him around like a baseball bat, smashing him into his comrades over and over again. There was no stopping until five crippled and twitching husks laid upon the floor.

Fenton grunted and continued to tinker with the battery pack on his armour, feeling sweat form upon his brow. He pulled out another damaged spark plug and replaced it with a spare before testing the power button on his suit. The armour began to rev up and for a moment he was hopeful. Though just as quickly, it sputtered out.

“I have no idea what those arrows were even tipped in but…” Fenton began, growling mid-sentence and hammering his fist into the suit with a feral rage.

Suddenly the armour started to sputter to life, making Fenton’s eyes widened. The routine continued with subsystem after subsystem activating until the suit was operational and its eyes glowed bright red. It wasn’t a moment too soon either as three more guards entered the room with firearms in hand. 

“Gizmoduck, defense routine sigma twelve!” Fenton barked.

The machine whirled to life and a boxing glove erupted from its chest cavity, launching forwards and slamming into one of the goon’s faces at considerable speed. This sent the man flying back and impacting the wall hard, cracking his head against it and leaving a bloody trail behind.

This left the two other guards looking at the corpse in absolute horror.

One of them opened fire on the suit which took the bullets with ease, barely even denting the hardy material. Though it seemed to have pissed the armour off as it lunged forwards, seemingly with a mind of its own, grabbing the guard and squeezing him tight.

In the duck world that would’ve dispatched him, knocking him unconscious. In the human world there was a gnarly crunching sound and a shrill scream before an eruption of red shot out in every direction. It was such an intense level of gore that even Brock started to go a little green with Dean losing his lunch and innocence.

The last guard screamed and attempted to flee though he was cut down as one of the suit’s arms extended and grabbed his back, seizing it firmly enough to vapourize his spine in an instant.

“Dios mios…” Fenton whispered, making a cross over himself. “I… I…”

“That was so freaking cool!” Dewey beamed.

Fenton, Brock, and Dean all looked at him in absolute horror.

“It’s just like one of my video games,” Dewey said, flashing a smile that said that maybe he didn’t quite appreciate the full implications of what had just happened. “R-right?”

Dean swallowed a lump in his throat and approached, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Y-yep, just like a video game, Dewey”

The Gizmoduck suit let go of the bloody pulp which landed upon the floor in a wet splash. It then wheeled over to Fenton, now covered in viscera, blood, and war crimes. Its eyes still glowed a commanding red and for a moment it almost seemed like it would have a terminator moment and revolt against its master.

Though the chest cavity opened and invited Fenton inside.

Fenton curled his nose in disgust but did so, slipping into the protective armour. “L-let’s just get this over with.”

Brock nodded and grabbed one of the guns, inspecting the ammo supply inside of it.

---

Rusty stuck out his tongue just a little, poking away at one of the finer circuits in his design. The material was strong and light, weighing almost exactly as much as an organic leg would’ve. It was amazing craftsmanship, if he did say so himself.

And as the last little bit of soldering stuck the last piece of the wiring in place, he clapped his hands together triumphantly.

“So, how does it look?” Rusty beamed.

Billy looked between a few pictures on his computer screen: Della from the cartoon, an actual duck, and the leg itself. He nodded at what he saw before looking back up at Rusty. “If it works then I’d say you’ve made a solid upgrade to her design.

Rusty snorted and shook his head. “If it works, he says.”

There was a little switch on the back and he flipped it, sending electricity into the system. The leg immediately kicked out, springing off of the table and leaping high into the air. It landed with a heavy thud and kicked back up once more, going high into the air again before landing with enough force that there was a sickening crack and a fracture in the design.  

The leg went still and then promptly started to spark and smoulder, turning first into smoke and then into a roaring fire.

Billy sighed and hopped off of his desk, moving over to a fire extinguisher on the wall.

“Well…” He started to spray down the leg with foam. “Any idea where we might’ve gone wrong?”

Rusty sighed and looked at the smoldering husk. “Possibly the use of a human-size servo? Probably gave this thing way more force than was necessarily needed. Then maybe a wire crossed which caused it to kick out without being given a command?” He shook his head. “I’m now wondering if using that alloy might’ve also interfered with the thing’s current. Is that specific polymer conductive to electricity?”

“This is all stuff that you probably should’ve thought of before we built the thing,” Billy grumbled. “Materials are your area of expertise.”

Rusty snorted. “Nonsense, it took Edison a hundred tries to perfect the light bulb and it's only natural to stumble on our first attempt.”

“A light bulb didn’t use a million dollars in materials for its prototype,” Billy said, poking at the charred corpse of science. “And I’m pretty sure that whatever fumes we just consumed probably have about a thousand cancer-causing chemicals in them.”

“Billy, Billy, money is just an object,” Rusty said, winking at him. “Plus think of this as an investment into the super sciences. Once we beat that stupid duck, I’m going to be pawning off so much cold war garbage on that dimension. I bet they don’t even have transistors yet.” He sighed fondly. “Pong is going to blow their fucking minds.”

“If we win,” Billy grumbled.

Rusty snorted. “Please, we’re two people with doctorates and she’s a test pilot. I think we have this in the bag.”

“A test pilot who manufactured her last leg from scrap rocket parts during a crash on the moon,” Billy stated.

“Well thankfully we don’t have many rockets here,” Rusty said, patting him on the back. “So, I feel pretty secure about this going in our favour.”

Billy looked back at the blueprint they had just designed, sighing as he tore it in half. “I just think we’re going to need some help is all.”

“And we can find some if we mess this thing up again,” Rusty said, flashing a smile. “Which we absolutely won’t because we’re Team Venture.”

---

“Man, some of the stuff would melt Gyro’s brain,” Louie said, picking up a piece of electronics and examining it between his fingers. It was shiny and looked pricy, so he opted to pocket it before looking at his mother. “How goes the robot leg?”

Della pulled up a welder’s mask and wiped at her brow, flashing a nervous smile. “It’s uh… it’s coming.”

She reached out and grabbed what looked like a nearly identical replica of the leg she had originally designed on the moon. Only, this one also had a strange wiring over top of it that connected to some sort of technological interface embedded into the design. All of this also meant that the battery pack on it was far larger than her current model as it needed far more power.

Louie inspected it, tilting his head to the side. “I don’t really know if it’s going to be all that different?”

“Sure, it is,” Della stated, using her finger to point out her design. “This thing contains this mesh which will be able to register sensations and then wire them into my body in order to allow me to experience them for myself. At least, if that paper was right.”

“You mean the paper written by a bunch of weird ape creatures that only used a sample size of other weird ape creatures and then also said that the research should not be taken and used for practical purposes at this current time,” Louie murmured before shaking his head. “Frick, I just sounded like Huey.”

Della rolled her eyes. “Yeah, maybe if you’re a coward. But I’m a woman on a mission and my honour is on the line. I’m sure Doctor Venture isn’t going to be worried about ethics and stuff and I’m not going to be at a disadvantage because of it.”

“Are you sure…” Louie sighed. “Are you sure that’s such a good idea?”

“No but Scrooge didn’t instill me with defeatism and…” She wagged a screwdriver at him. “I know he didn’t instill you with it either.”

“No but Uncle Donald sure did,” Louie said. “And Scrooge also taught me that a dead duck is a duck who isn’t enjoying the fruits of his hard work. Plus, you know, I’d be really bummed if you ended up exploding or something.”

“Hmmm you’re right,” Della murmured. “We’re playing by this universe’s rules which means… my actions actually have consequences right now.”

So, she placed the leg back down upon the table and instead grabbed a couple of metal diodes, pushing them into the device before slipping over to the room’s computer and fiddling around with it. She opened an app that brought her over to some sort of highly technical interface that was full of charts and graphs. It was the type of science stuff that Gyro would use.

Then, she reached for the battery pack on the leg and flipped it on. 

Once powered up, the graphs immediately spiked and went all over the place, looking quite sporadic. Della yelped and stumbled back, watching how the battery started to spark. Then the computer itself began to scream, letting out an inhumane digital wail.

Della rushed back, scooping up Louie along with her. She made it out of the room just in time for a small explosion to rupture, banging and sending a billowing of black smoke spilling out of the room.

“Holy…” Della began.

“Shit,” Louie finished.

Della gasped. “Who taught you that word?”

“Uncle Donald,” Louie said, flashing a smile. “He taught me all of the fun swear words.”

“I’m sure that he did,” Della grumbled.

She looked to her left and saw that the human named Billy was currently smoking a cigarette in the hall. 

He nodded towards her. “You two aren’t having any luck either?”

“Think my mom messed up the battery pack or something,” Louie replied, motioning to the smoke. “Because that sure looked like a battery explosion.”

“And how exactly do you know what that looks like?” Della asked, cocking a brow.

Louie shrugged. “Louie Inc has its fingers in many pies and was more than willing to offer third party support for the Generation Four Waddle Arc smartphones.” He flashed a smile. “I swear to god those things were designed to be bombs or something.”

“That’s nothing,” Billy grumbled, pointing into his lab. “Rusty somehow designed a flammable flame-retardant gel for the military. They said it burned hotter than napalm which uh… actually netted him way more money in the long run.”

Della shuddered. “Sounds like a classy guy.”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Billy grumbled before perking up. “You know, I bet we could help each other out.”

“How so?” Della asked.

“We have the power source down pat but we’re struggling to fine tune our design for duck usage,” Billy said.

“Duck usage, you just need to…” Della smirked. “You two have no idea how strong to make it, do you?”

Billy nodded and shot off a finger gun. “Bingo.”

“Well, it could be fun to work together,” Della said.

---

“What have I done?” Dewey whispered.

He looked down at his hands, his eyes wide as they were now covered in red. A knife was at his feet embedded into the chest of a thug with a gun.

“What you needed to do, kid,” Brock said, bowing his head. “What you had to do.”

“Look I know this is a difficult moment,” Dean hissed. “But…”

Brock held up a hand, shutting him up so he could talk to Dewey. “You didn’t have a choice, kid.” He pointed to the weapon that the corpse had been holding. “It was either him or you and that makes it his fault, do you understand me?”

Dewey blinked and nodded slowly.

“In that case trooper, let’s finish this mission,” Brock said, turning to Fenton. “Are you ready to kick in some skulls?”

Fenton’s cold gaze looked away from the cigarette he’d been smoking and towards the suit of armour off to the side. It was now coloured a bright red and had twenty black circles drawn upon its chassis, each of them marking a confirmed kill.

“Let’s do this,” he said.

---

Della chuckled as she picked up the servo that the humans had been using, giving it a once over. “Walt Disney, guys… this thing could support the artificial leg of someone five times my weight.” She tossed it away and started to rummage through their supplies, pulling out one that was a bit smaller. “You want to use something like this.”

“Well excuse me,” Rusty grumbled. “It’s not like we were given a proper blueprint on your biology or something.”

“That’s because you aren’t getting one from me,” Della said, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Because I can barely stand doctors let alone scientists trying to get under my skirt.”

Rusty flushed bright red. “I wasn’t… that’s…” He cleared his throat. “I don’t even know how something like that would work. I simply wanted to set up a business arrangement of sorts and you seem like the most qualified person to talk to about that.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Louie said. “I’m the one with…”

He flinched away from the three sets of eyes that looked firmly at him. It would seem that they were finally past his ruse.

“Fair enough,” he grumbled.

“So, what’s the secret with the battery?” Della asked.

Rusty adjusted his glasses. “Well that unfortunately is a little Venture Family secret that I’m not really at liberty to…”

“It’s a micro battery pack invented by his dad like thirty years ago,” Billy said. “Pretty much everyone...