The day didn't go as planned for Ambrose Amethyst the Fourth, that much was clear. Although it had started quite promising.

Ambrose woke up early and dressed in his most badass outfit, the black leather one with the studs. It complemented his light blue complexion, or so his mother insisted. And only the best would do for his graduation day.

While he failed to knot his tie, he smiled. Only this one day, this last ceremony, and he'd be rid of school for good, free to roam the maxiverse at will. He gave up on the tie—who needed fashion accessories anyway?—and hurried down the stairs, where his mother was waiting with breakfast. As soon as she caught a glimpse of her son, she rushed up to him and tried to tame his unruly hair with spit on her fingers. Ambrose stepped back.

"Mum, that's gross. My hair is fine."

"But this is your great day, Brosie, you must look your dashing best! Come here!"

"No. I like my hair spiky. And I don't like your spit in it. Please, Mum, let's just go."

"Nonsense. First, you need a healthy breakfast. Big boy like you. And where's your tie? You can't go to graduation without a proper tie."

While Ambrose tried to hold still for his mother to knot his tie and at the same time munched on his muffin, he dared to ask the question he'd mulled over half the night. "Do you think Dad will come to the ceremony?"

"Don't be silly, darling." His mother straightened the tie and brushed some imaginary dust from his lapel. "You know how busy your dad is. His position as CEO of Vicious Villains Inc. brings a lot of responsibilities."

Ambrose nodded, deflated. He wished his father would make room in his busy schedule for his son at least this one time. Oh how much he wanted to show him he was a worthy successor in the family tradition...

~ ~ ~

The Joker Memorial College was well renowned for its competent teachers and serious education. For the only son of one of the leading families of the community, nothing less would do. Ambrose knew he should call himself lucky to enjoy such elite schooling. But to be honest, he couldn't wait to get out of it.

He didn't mingle well with the other kids. Sure, they singled him out. Who wouldn't want to be friends with the heir of Vicious Villains Inc.? His father's business empire had altered the perception of organised crime from simple drug dealing to speculation with bulk commodities and full-out terrorism. So, Ambrose never found himself short of attractive girls who wanted to go out with him, and perhaps a bit more.

Problem was, young Ambrose wasn't interested. And perhaps a bit too clever for his own good. He'd figured out as a ground schooler that the girls didn't love him for himself but his father's money. The boys, he found, were not better. So he kept to himself and tried to navigate the relationship waters with the attitude of an ice breaker. It mostly worked, except that penetrating Ambrose's hard shell and reaching his soft core became a favourite sport of his classmates.

No wonder he was glad he would be over and done with college for good. His father had promised to introduce him to the board of VV Inc. as soon as he owned his diploma in advanced villainism. And today was his great day.

~ ~ ~

The ceremony was boring. Ambrose fought the urge to sleep during the rector's endless speech. Then he heard his name, well, actually his surname, and he wished he'd fallen asleep and missed the embarrassment. Of course, the rector had to point out how honoured the Joker Memorial Staff was to be the institute trusted by the famous Armenghast Alderthorn, founder and CEO of Vicious Villains Inc., with the education of his only son Ambrosius Antagonist Alderthorn.

Ambrose felt his ears heating up and stared at his hands, well aware of his mother in the front row grinning broader than a jack-o-lantern. Finally, the torture was over. Ambrose steered towards the exit of the concert hall, his diploma in his sweaty left hand while he tried to clean his sweatier right on his jeans. He'd never in his life had to shake as many hands before. Naturally, his mother intercepted his path before he reached freedom.

"I'm so proud of you." She enclosed him in a hug. "And have you heard what the rector said? I wish your father could have witnessed this wonderful moment."

Ambrose tried to free himself from his mother's smothering embrace. Gilly and Peter passed close by him, giggling at his distress. They were not his best friends, but not the worst either. Spontaneously, he reached out for possible help.

"Gilly, Peter, congrats to graduating. May I introduce my mum?"

The ruse worked. His mother blushed and reached out a hand. "So pleased to meet you. My son never talks much about his friends."

The two exchanged a look and Gilly shrugged. "There's not much to talk about, madam. Hey Bro, are you coming for a spree?"

Ambrose sent his mother an uncertain glance. "Uh, not sure what the program is..."

She patted his cheek. "This is your great day, do whatever you like. Go party with your friends, you earned it, Brosie."

"Mum, don't call me Brosie. I've graduated. I'm a certified villain now."

"That's true, and it makes me so happy, Brosie. Take care of yourself, and don't come back too late. Call me to send a driver, I don't want you roaming the streets at night, you never know who's out for you."

Ambrose swallowed his reply. Would his mum ever acknowledge he was an independent adult now, a certified villain? Probably not. He'd have to prove to her he was capable of being his own master. To her and his father. A shiver ran down his spine. It wouldn't be easy. With an elaborate effort, he straightened his shoulders. First, party.

~ ~ ~

To Ambrose's lasting surprise, Gilly the Gadget Queen and Peter the Perilous didn't abandon him on the spot. He wasn't offended. They had helped him escape another lecture about how privileged he was to be the son of his father. Also, their company would help him to get his thoughts off the future looming like a giant beast in the distance, licking its metaphorical fangs and salivating.

Together, the three graduates studied the current top ten of party planets on the college home-feed for an adequate venue for a private festivity. In the end, they tossed a coin.

The picture of the planet, taken from space, looked nice, but the description Peter read aloud declared it was an environmental mess. Extensive use of fossil fuels had led to significant global warming, the sparkling blue oceans were polluted with floating plastic and forests were cut down as if there was no tomorrow.

"Civilisations on the brim of doom are the best at throwing parties." Gilly had always been a grade A student. She rubbed her hands in anticipation.

The boys agreed and they hopped a few multiversity planes under her expert guidance. Without a glitch, they arrived at a golden beach, basking in the evening heat and witnessing a glorious sunset.

~ ~ ~

Two local hours and several fancy drinks later, Ambrose felt pleasantly relaxed. The sun had long since disappeared behind a distant horizon, the sky was studded with silver stars, and he was talking with a girl showing genuine interest. He wasn't used to this last part and enjoyed it more than he'd dare to admit to himself in a less intoxicated state.

Isabella had beautiful black hair that reached her mid-back, dark eyes, and a winning smile. Also, she was an environmentalist and had strong ideas she defended with fervour. Ambrose was impressed. So impressed that he missed the arrival of the hive of robot ships.

In his defence, it has to been said that neither Gilly nor Peter had the current capacity to deal with them either. The first was engaged in exploring the anatomical details of a few giggling locals, the later snored beneath a palm tree, oblivious to everything after the consumption of an array of colourful liquids in small bottles.

The thing to catch Ambrose's attention was the robotic voice.

"Information to all earth folk. Your planet is annexed to our development area. You have ten of your minutes to either evacuate or surrender and offer your slave services to your new masters. Whoever refrains from doing so and remains on planet after the deadline will be eliminated. Thank you for considering our generous offer. Countdown is running now."

He turned his attention from Isabella's shocked face to the heavens, where several dozen giant, slate-grey bot drones surrounded their queen and blotted out the stars. Their air of menacing efficiency was underlined by the booming voice's emotionless countdown. "Nine minutes to the deadline."

The assembled partygoers, stupefied by the unexpected visitor's wrath, began to stir. Gilly's head popped up from a bunch of intermingled bodies. "Get off, you stuffed collections of cobbled-up scrap components. We're partying hard, here!"

Ambrose winced. Gilly had never been the most diplomatic of his classmates, and he doubted her response would scare off the bad bots. As if on cue with his thoughts, a well-aimed ion beam hit the beach and vaporised Gilly and her associates. This called Peter into action.

The burly youth stood up to his full height, the handle of Gilly's totality tool grasped in both hands. Ambrose had suspected for a long time Peter nursed a soft spot for Gilly. But he couldn't let the big oaf get himself killed over her. He jumped up, calling his mate's name. But he was too late.

Peter aimed the death-distributer end of the totality tool at the bulky master-bot. "You spawn of a rotten welding place. You killed her!" His anger raised the pitch of his voice and he fumbled with shaking hands for the trigger of the weapon. Before he could pull it, the bot's ion beam disintegrated him on the spot, the totality tool dropping unscathed into the sizzling sand.

The humans started screaming and running around in aimless fear. Ambrose hardly felt Isabella's grip on his arm. He shook her loose and dived for Gilly's tool. The molten ground around it was still hot but his Sunday's best leather pants protected him while he rolled through the wet sand towards the sea. In the surf, he rose to his knees, took aim at the unmistakable bulk of the queen bot, and pulled the trigger.

The fireworks in the sky were worthy of his graduation. But Ambrose's mood for parties had evaporated. He slumped down on the shore, hardly registering the enthusiastic cheers of the surviving humans. His hands still held Gilly's prize weapon. He'd never known what kind of power this badass piece of hardware harboured. Temptation to test a few more of the available functions was great. The sky was still dotted with now harmless drone bots, after all.

Before Ambrose could give in, a gasp from Isabella made him whirl around. The girl pointed towards a monstrous meteorite approaching at high speed on a glowing trail. Ambrose jumped up and stepped back right in time. With a huge splash, the meteorite landed in the shallows only a few steps from his feet. The waves cooled down the hot metal and he stared at the bot queen's severed head.

Baffled, he took in the well-known logo of VV Inc. on the bot's shiny metal-alloy chin. What interest would a renowned company like Vicious Villains pursue on this backwater planet? Like little cogs in a mechanical watch, the thoughts in Ambrose's head turned, worked together, and came up with an accurate explanation.

He engaged the scanner of Gilly's tool to confirm his suspicions. Silicon was the key. The sand he was standing on contained enough of this rare material to explain a raid by his father's minions. Ambrose was mortally embarrassed. How in the blasted maxiverse could he get out of this one and explain himself to his dad?

A firm embrace interrupted his thoughts and prevented them from spiralling straight into another black hole of self-doubt. Soft lips pressed against his cheek. "I thought they were going to kill you too. You saved us. You ... you are a true hero!"

Ambrose shivered. A hero! The pickle he'd ended in was even worse than he'd feared. His father would disown him. His mum... he shied back of even wanting to think about it. But then, the girl—Isabella—bat her lashes and those beautiful, mysterious eyes tried to lure him farther to the light side.

Ambrose swallowed the lump of anxiety rising in his throat, it was a big lump, so he coughed, once, twice, gasped. But when Isabella's smile faltered and a worry line formed on her forehead, he sucked in some air and plunged straight into this big adventure.

"Um, now the bots are leaderless and your planet is safe..." He almost choked on the word safe. "... Do you think we might get something to eat, together, somewhere?"

"Of.course, I'd be delighted—my hero." Her smile was warm and charming and all-around admirable. Ambrose's heart sped up and he felt the heat rising in his cheeks while he slung Gilly's totality tool over his shoulder. If he had to defend Isabella's planet against further attacks, it might come in handy.

She observed his movement and smiled. "With my ideas and your firepower, we might save this planet."

"Let's talk about this over dinner." His arm snaked around her shoulder. She didn't resist and Ambrose felt a weight lifted from his soul.

Being a villain was overrated.