[Mauler Twin's POV]
Life always found a way to beat a genius down.
It was another boring night in the GDA detention center. Same sterile walls, same reinforced glass, same lack of intellectual stimulation.
Admittedly it wasn't the worst place I'd been locked up since they actually fed us enough to maintain our mass. I was currently bench-pressing a solid steel beam they let me keep in here, trying to keep my massive physique somewhat active, when the monotone sound of combat boots echoed down the corridor.
It was the usual routine. The guards were coming with dinner, sliding it through the specialized slot in our cells.
A guard walked up to the reinforced glass of my cell. He racked his riot shotgun loudly. "Back up, freak!" he yelled, his voice muffled by the thick barrier.
I put down the steel beam with a heavy thud. I honestly didn't even have it in me to be angry about the interruption. My stomach gave a loud, hollow growl, completely overriding any sense of villainous pride.
"Come on already..." I grumbled, wiping sweat off my brow. "Don't leave a guy hanging. What's for dinner today? Better not be that nutrient paste crap again."
"Well, consider yourself lucky today," the guard said. His voice dropped lower, sounding oddly friendly for a guy whose job was to shoot me if I sneezed too hard. "We're having chicken biryani."
My eyes lit up. 'Real food? Solid, heavily spiced, actual meat?'
I hadn't tasted anything with actual flavor since the Guardians busted our White House raid.
"Alright!" I grinned. I knocked heavily on the shared wall connecting my cell to the adjacent one. "Hey, Clone! Looks like the night's finally looking up for us!"
"Who are you calling a clone, you cheap knock-off?!" my twin roared back from the other side of the wall. "I have the original memories! You're the flawed copy!"
I just rolled my eyes. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, copy."
Ah, well. That little exchange ruined my mood slightly, but whatever.
The guard slid the tray through the slot. The smell of spiced rice and roasted chicken hit my nostrils, and my mouth practically started watering.
I grabbed the tray, sat down heavily on my reinforced cot, and picked up a massive, perfectly cooked drumstick.
I raised it to my mouth, my tongue vibrating with anticipation.
WEE-WOO. WEE-WOO.
Suddenly, the blinding red emergency lights flared to life. The deafening wail of the prison alarms blared through the cell block, making my sensitive ears ring.
I froze, the drumstick hovering literally an inch from my lips.
'Did someone else break out? On Biryani Night? Who could be such a tasteless asshole?'
Before I could even process what was happening, the reinforced door of my cell slid open completely.
A dozen heavily armed, fully suited GDA guards suddenly materialized out of thin air all around me, pointing highly advanced energy rifles directly at my chest and head.
"Move out, you blue piece of shit!" the lead guard barked, gesturing with the barrel of his rifle.
I woke up from my stupor. My mind raced, trying to size up the moment.
If I moved fast enough, I could snap at least three of their necks before they could get a clean shot off. The opportunity was right there.
But then they barked at me again. "Drop the food! Hands behind your head! Now!"
"Aw, hell nah!" I roared indignantly, clutching the plastic tray to my chest like a newborn child. "Nobody takes my chicken!"
The guards looked at each other, completely bewildered by my priorities, and just nodded. Two of them stepped forward, leveling their energy rifles right at my face.
"Drop it. Or we fry you."
I glared at them, my blue skin flushing with anger, but I slowly lowered the tray back onto the cot, save for the juicy piece of drumstick.
They immediately grabbed my arms, hauling me out of the cell. I looked over and saw they did the exact same thing to my clone, dragging him out into the corridor.
We were heavily escorted up through the facility. Elevator after elevator, blast door after blast door, until we were finally kicked out onto the dry, cracked dirt of a completely deserted wasteland.
The heavy metal blast doors of the GDA blacksite slammed shut behind us.
We just stood there in the middle of the desert.
With no guards, drones or other security features in sight. Just empty, open air.
I looked at my clone and he looked at me.
We shared a single, brilliant, genetically identical thought.
'Run.'
We both took a massive, dirt-kicking step forward, fully intending to sprint into the horizon.
TWANG.
A sharp, vibrating sound of some weird guitar-like instrument echoed from literally nowhere.
Before our boots could even hit the ground, a giant, square hole simply opened up directly beneath our feet.
"Whoooaaaa!" We both yelled in unison as gravity took over.
We fell straight down, plunging deep inside some bizarre, constantly shifting wooden castle. Corridors and staircases spun around us in illogical angles.
"NO! My biryani!" I roared into the abyss as my beautiful, untouched drumstick was left behind in the desert to be engulfed by the sand.
I was genuinely tearing up and I hadn't cried this hard since my dad's funeral... right after I killed that bastard myself.
-x-
We had been falling for what felt like an hour. We yelled every single curse word in the English language, inventing a few new ones specifically for whoever was crazy enough to play games with the Mauler Twins.
Not to mention that damn twang sound. Every time it echoed, the castle shifted, and it felt like someone was boring an iron drill directly into our heads.
We were right in the middle of a particularly colorful string of profanities when the falling abruptly stopped.
We crashed incredibly hard onto a solid wooden floor.
SPLAT.
The impact jolted every single bone in my massive body. My clone hit the floor face-first right next to me, the impact actually knocking a tooth out of his mouth.
"Ow... son of a..." I groaned, rubbing my bruised shoulder.
"Ara, ara. Look what the cat dragged in," a soft, melodious voice echoed through the hall.
We both looked up, ignoring the pain. Sitting on a raised wooden platform above us was a woman dressed in an elegant black kimono. She was holding a Japanese guitar thingy in her pale hands. But the most distinct, terrifying thing about her was her face.
Aside from her ghostly pale skin, she only had a single, massive eye right in the center of her face. And carved directly into the iris was some sort of Japanese kanji.
Off in the far corner of the massive hall, I noticed someone else. An older, impeccably dressed man in a sharp butler's suit was kneeling on the wooden floor, his nose literally inches from the wall. He was completely still, facing the corner like a misbehaving child in a time-out. I had never met the man, but the sheer, oppressive energy radiating off his back told my brilliant brain he could probably bench-press a skyscraper.
"Hey, lady! Do you even know who you're messing with?!" my clone yelled, pushing himself up and spitting a glob of blood onto her pristine floor. "We are the Mauler fucking Twins! We'll tear this entire wooden shack apart!"
Before he could even continue his very solid, very intimidating threat, we were stopped dead in our tracks.
Another man walked up from behind the cyclops woman. He was smiling pleasantly, giving us a casual little wave.
"Yoo-hoo! It's so good to finally meet my favorite scientists!" the man said cheerfully.
We were smacked dab in shock. I recognized him instantly from the news broadcasts playing in the detention center.
The most wanted man on Earth. The butcher of the Guardians of the Globe. The man who banished Omni-Man to an alien dimension.
This was John fucking Kaisen.
My arrogant, aggressive demeanour suddenly evaporated as I immediately got up to one knee, before stopping still in this awkward position.
"Si... sir!" I stammered, my brilliant brain recognizing danger when I saw it. "It's a pleasure to meet you. We're big fans, actually. Huge fans of your work."
John Kaisen chuckled, adjusting his tinted glasses. "Oh? Then you wouldn't mind helping me out of a little pinch, would you?"
"Of course! Anything you—"
My clone suddenly interrupted me. He stood up straight, crossing his massive arms, going straight to a threat like the absolute retard he clearly was.
"Now look here, you upstart!" my clone growled.
"Hey! Shut up, clone!" I hissed, trying to pull him back down.
"You think you can order us around just by strutting around your wooden shack and flaunting your two-bit, one-eyed whor—"
SHING.
A blade made entirely of blinding silver energy cut straight through the air. It cleaved smoothly through my clone's thick, indigo neck, severing his head completely off his shoulders.
The heavy thud of his body hitting the wooden floor echoed through the dead silence of the hall.
"Tch, tch, tch..." John Kaisen tutted softly, shaking his head in sheer disappointment as the silver energy faded from his hand. "He really shouldn't have spoken ill of my precious Nakime."
He stepped over the headless corpse and turned his dead gaze back to me.
"So, Mr. Mauler," Kaisen said, his smile pleasant but his eyes dead. "What will it be? Will you help me with just a little favor? Or will you be joining your clone on the floor?"
He paused for a second, tilting his head. "Of course, I firmly believe the original would choose much more wisely than a flawed clone."
I swallowed a massive lump in my throat. I looked at the severed head of my clone, then back up at the psychopath standing over me.
"Of course! Of course I'll help you, Mr. Kaisen!" I said in my most respectful tone, aggressively rubbing my hands together as my palms started sweating profusely. "But... as a matter of professional principle, I cannot simply work for just good will. I have a villainous reputation to maintain, after all."
He smiled at me. A bright smile at that. And at that exact moment, I knew this guy matched my freak perfectly.
Kaisen casually clapped his hands together.
Right in front of me, another Japanese sliding door opened up.
I instinctively jumped back, expecting another hour-long fall.
Instead, wads of cash flooded out of the doorway, pouring onto the wooden floor until the stacks of dollars were literally up to my knees. It had to be millions. Tens of millions, even.
"Oh, this will be good. Very, very good," I muttered, my eyes going wide at the sheer volume of untraceable wealth. I looked back up at him, my scientific curiosity fully engaged. "But what exactly will you have me do with my unparalleled genius? Build a virus? Design a biological weapon?"
John Kaisen stepped forward, placing a hand on his hip.
" No, Mr. Mauler... I need your unparalleled genius to figure out how to organically grow 'Immortal' branded food for my dear Nakime here."
The request completely shattered every single one of my high-level scientific expectations. I just stared at him, utterly dumbfounded.
I looked up at the terrifying, one-eyed cyclops demon sitting on the platform. She was actively blushing, partially covering her pale face with her black kimono sleeves in embarrassment.
'This guy...' I thought, looking between the millions of dollars in cash, the severed head of my clone, the old powerhouse still kneeling in the time-out corner and the blushing demon. 'This guys really are completely wacked out.'
[A/N]: Drop them Stones if you.....like Biryani?
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