"We're almost there. Keep up!" A quadruple of Brawlers ran through the woods. Their goal lay just ahead. A tower of crossed steel and coarse wires. All they needed was to make it there. At the base they could find a power box and with a bit of tinkering, they could finally send it. The people, nay, the world will know. Starr Park's horrors will finally go public.

This mission had to succeed. So it made the most sense for him to stand at the front. He was the biggest, strongest, and the least necessary for what lies at the end. At his age, anything other than mechanical maintenance was outside of his wheelhouse. So when the wind shifted under his small tuft of hair he ordered a full stop. The bear traps on his fist opened wide while he searched around them. Maise stood behind with the camera in hand. Her cloud-like curls were sagging from the sweat pouring down her brows. Sam took a deep breath, "Go ahead."

His finger pointed off to the right, "There's no one that way. Run fo' bout a thousan' feet. Then keep straight."

Maise and her companions stared in the direction. She nearly left before giving up the camera to Fang on her right. The ebony sister stood behind the old man, "I might be armless, but I'm not harmless." The cannon on her right hand whirled to life. A rocket the size of a football showed itself through the barrel.

Sam wasn't entertained, "You're not needed 'ere." He pointed back to the boys behind him, "Dose kids need ya."

Fang and Buster voiced a bit of discourse, but they were quickly silenced by Maise. She had turned away with a downcast glare. She didn't bother with turning back. She just made an order, "You better meet us there."

Sam readjusted his berry-skinned suspenders, "I'll be seein' ya."

She held back a tear. This was no time for weakness, not when Sam was being so strong. His order was clear and without question. The trio of film-following fellows quickly ran away. They disappeared into the woods in the distance.

Sam was left alone in the clearing. He could feel a heavy fog falling over him. The sound of the trio's feet rushing away was quickly replaced by a pair of soft steps. They crunched the leaves ahead of him, not trying to mask their presence. Sam did the same, he stood up straight and massaged his wrists. His white beard and mismatched brunette mustache started to itch. The sound of the beartraps slamming shut echoed through the trees. The sharp metal served as a perfect brush to scratch away that bothersome feeling on his upper lip.

Meanwhile, the figure ahead came into view. It was much smaller than him. A softer body with feminine features and a powerful strut. The bright red and yellow jumpsuit functioned as a beacon that removed any camouflage in the greenery. Her helmet followed the same yellow pinstripe as the body condom with clear blue visors for her eyes to peer through.

Sam's claw opened suddenly. He stared through the gap at his new roadblock, "Max."

The superhero pulled on her leather gloves, "Sam."

The dynamically different brawlers finally rested in the clearing together. They stood meters apart with their arms at rest. Sam let the metal weights dangle at his hips while Max crossed her arms over her breasts. The elder gave a frustrated snicker, "To what do I owe the plesha'?"

"You know why I'm here." Her annoyed tone wasn't hidden.

Sam laughed, "Ya-ha! I know why you're here." His words drawled together like an alcoholic uncle, "How'd you find us?" Max looked at the treetops. Sam followed her gaze as a white drone floated overhead. Its orange visor allowed him to see the green eyes that were certainly projecting his location to a station somewhere. "Damn dirty bolto."

Max waved a hand and the RT drone flew away. It went in the direction that Sam had just sent his partners. The superhero cleared her throat, her smooth white lips dancing along with her sharp voice, "You know, there's still a chance to get out of this. With your life."

Again Sam found a bit of comedy in this situation. He covered his eyes as he laughed, "Not very hero-like, lying." He scratched his mostly bald head with a smooth bit of metal.

Max retorted, "It is sometimes a hero's job to withhold the truth to protect the-"

Sam cut her off, "Speaking of lies. Does she know?" Max's eyes narrowed. He took notice and went for the kill, "Your little recruit Meg." He could again feel the winds shift around his hair tuft. Max's mood became notably perturbed, "Does she know that 'er 'ero is supporting the oppressors? And what about Surge? He know that you're under their boots?"

Hearing that Max smiled. That shift in wind was followed by the sound of a heavy thud. Behind him, something large had landed in the clearing. He peeked over his shoulders at what had interrupted their one-on-one. A large robot the same color as Max's suit had joined the fray. His blacked-out shades and shining smile turned the serious interaction into a bleak situation for Sam. The sloshing green liquid in Surge's chest began to glow as he pulled from its volatile power.

Sam snickered as the two large fighters greeted each other. The old bandit was tickled pink now, "Guess majority rules." To think that little ole him was being treated as such a threat. The two biggest guard dogs of Starr Park were here to silence him. He looked back at the speedster, "So tell me, Max." His arms stretched out to the forest around them, "Is this your justice?" A heavy wind blew over them. His little white curl flew around wildly, "The people cry fo' help and ya silence 'em?"

Max spat back, "The people? Is that who you think you are?" The winds only increased in pace, she had to yell to be heard over it, "You scream about oppression but all you've done is steal from others to survive. Systems have been implemented to allow you a chance to thrive yet rather than follow the law you whine and complain when we come to stop you." Sam was losing sight of her like a heavy fog was being pushed in by this windstorm. "You scream about how the world is against you but you're the one fighting it. How many times have you been offered assistance? The countless measures taken by Starr to fulfill your needs." It was completely black now. He could no longer see Surge behind him either.

Max's speech continued, "But you so-called revolutionaries bite the hand that feeds. You look to be claimed as the victim so that others will sympathize with you. Then they'll forget how you infect their homes with your reckless ideals. How you target the next generation with your colorful words and lies. You fight so hard because you know that you're the minority. A flash in the pan that brought themselves to this pit and want to drag the world with them. Then when hundreds are lying in that pit with you, you'll use their bodies to climb out."

Max's angry snarls shaped the skies, "What comes after that? When you've trapped the people you claimed to save in your pit of despair? Will you help pull them out to your glorious new society? No. You'll do what every 'liberator' did, you'll sit on your throne as their new king. And then the cycle resumes again. Is that your justice Sam?!"

The storm slowly subsided. When the winds fell away there was a new set of faces around him. Three bodies of magical descent with a haunting aura around them. A large man with purple skin and loose garbs. The pink turban on his head showed a crescent moon on the front. On Sam's left was a woman whose burka fully swallowed her head save for her left eye. She had a similar palette and a giant glowing eye medallion on her skull. Then came a young boy from the Max's right. He wiped away a bit of sleep from his eyes. The pajamas he had on looked softer than the clouds in the sky.

Sam let out a sharp whistle, "The Mystic Trio? Ain't this a bit overkill?"

Max hissed, "It was supposed to be over already." She turned to the lady in pink, "What were you three doing?!" From the side Gene's lamp quickly hid behind his head. It shuddered as if they were atop Brawl Mountain. From the opposing corner, Tara mumbled something in a mystic tongue. Max turned to Sandy who was finally waking up. They had the element of surprise. The storm the prodigy created served to hide them from a sudden attack. She yelled at him now, "Why didn't you attack?"

Sandy picked at his ear, adverse to the amount of yelling she was doing when he'd just woken up. "It's because *yawns* he didn't have any openings." They all stared as Sam kept the same pose from the beginning. His arms at his sides, a smile visible in his eyes.

The bandit taunted her, "What's wrong, Max. Don't wanna dirty ya hands finishin' me?"

The superhero cursed under her breath. She ordered the other Brawlers to fully encircle him. He had no way out now. Every escape he saw was blocked off by an impressive Brawler. Sam decided to reach into his pocket. A large cigar thicker than his thumb rolled into his mouth. He lit the stogie as a wave of smoke rolled from his maw. With his face hidden in toxic white clouds, he somberly asked, "Can I say one thing before we begin?" The four Brawlers awaited Max's order. She rolled her eyes and waved for him to speak.

"Freedom. Freedom isn't a matter of choosin' ta live in complacency or die fightin'. It's knowing that despite it all ya have a choice. Whether tha results are positive or negative ya chose the path and you reap the benefits. Forcin' the masses into silence ain't freedom. Programmin' them to abide by your rules isn't choice. Just like forcin' ya family to follow ain't either." He took one final drag of his cigar before knocking the ashes off on his leg, "That's the difference between you an' me, Max. You force ya family to comply. Mine." Surge was the first to hear something shuffle in the bushes behind him, "Mine choose to follow me."

Suddenly a bolt of lightning fell from above. It landed into Sandy's back after a narrow dodge from the speedster. The slumbering savant started convulsing as the electricity rushed through his limbs and shot out to Gene. After another short freak out it threatened to jump into Sam's kidney. He quickly ducked forward so that it could fly into Tara's face. With that, the mystic Trio was left stunned. As they recovered Sam turned on a dime, he threw a bear trap at the super fighting robot who tried to fly away. His foot was snagged and pulled back down to the dirt.

Surge reached down to free himself when the rustling returned. From behind an array of circular projectiles came flying from a bush. The scent of freshly baked chocolate chips filled the impromptu arena. Surge threw his hands up as the doughy attack clogged his servos. He managed to get himself free and fly away to Max on the opposing side of the clearing. The Mystic Trio joined them as Max scolded her subordinates for their incompetence.

Meanwhile, the figure from the bush came rolling out. The savory scent that had entered the scene was now doubled by her oven body. "Cookie?" She popped to her feet and presented a treat to her companion. Sam responded by turning away to focus on the corporate Brawlers.

"Well if he won't," a lady jumped from the branches above. She landed with a rolling tumble, white hair capturing the leaves below as she sprung to a stop. "I'll take one." Belle snatched up the treat and happily munched on it. She rested her rifle on her shoulder as she stared at the grumpy old man.

Sam aimed his hand back to recall the trap he had released. It came back to his magnetic palm with a resounding snap. Sam flexed the hinges letting it snap open and shut a few times. After feeling content with his impromptu inspection he ready his hands at his side like a professional boxer. Belle flared her firearm with an extra focus on her golden right limb. Pearl's top popped with a bit of steam as a host of flaming cookies were deposited into her hand.

Sam looked at his crew with a content nod, "Now. Let's see whose jo'stice is stronger."