The alien villain descended to the metal ground, his metal soles clashing against the floor. His expression was solemn and cold, though Reverse barely acknowledged his presence, focusing solely on the fallen heroes that claimed to be his brother’s friends, but also were the ones that let him die in the first place.
“Stand down, my apprentice,” Retakka boomed, an aura of power veiling him. He walked over to Reverse, and placed his hand on his shoulder in attempt to gain his attention. “These insects aren’t worthy of your attention.”
Reverse growled as a reply, scowling at the humans in response. “They killed my brother! Do you think I was going to let them off that easy?”
Retakka cocked a brow in amusement. The now-brunet child wasn’t going to listen to reason. Well, there’s only one choice left if he was going to get both his apprentices back to him. He left Reverse to his designated victims, and headed down towards the station. Ever since he’d given them their powers, they’ve been progressing quite nicely. They could bench-press two-hundred kilos at the age of 12. They could take down villains with their limbs tied together. They even had the patience to read through the Terms and Conditions, which was a remarkable feat.
As their master, it was his duty to oversee the growth of their abilities. Being twins, their reliance on one another was surprisingly unstable. They could lean on each other, but they were able to branch out as their own individuals as well. This fact intrigued him the most.
But in order to gain more power, for them to be his heirs, some measures had to be done. Boboiboy’s spirit could only grow stronger by pushing himself to the limit to protect someone else. In this case, Reverse. And Reverse could gain more power by losing something, or someone to motivate him.
It was why he killed Boboiboy in the first place. Indeed, after his temporary death, Reverse’s powers have skyrocketed due to his grief and anger. When he deemed that Reverse had reached his expectations, and perhaps exceeded it, he brought Boboiboy back, granting them a more fluid communication and intervals between both their powers.
There could only be one heir. Only one of them could live and rise up to his place. But now wasn’t the time. He needed to observe them for much longer. They depended on each other too much.
Retakka struck down doors that were getting in his way, the metal sheets flying across the room, severing corpses that were already on the floor, the metal melting into bright gold.
The cells were relatively empty, the scent of blood and moldy dampness wafting through the air.
He sensed Boboiboy at the final cell. He approached the location, and indeed, he found his dead apprentice, lifeless on the floor with a black jacket covering his face. With a smirk, Retakka raised his hands, his arms coursing with elemental energy. Tendrils of different colors shot from his palms and into Boboiboy’s watch, reversing the effects of death, healing his injuries, and bringing him back to life.
Color was restored to Boboiboy’s skin, his watch glowing and glitching, accepting yet a new ability to his collection. As soon as Boboiboy coughed, rising from the dead once more, Retakka’s laughter echoed in the cell, and when Boboiboy removed the jacket from his face, he saw no one.
* * *
Fang had seen many things before. He’d seen Kaizo commanding him to defeat Boboiboy. He’d seen his friends get defeated by Bora-ra. He was also the first person to ever see Boboiboy’s body when he died the first time. (The first time. After that, Boboiboy’s been dying more than he could ever bother, even if he’d only died twice. He’d rather spend his time counting how many red carrot donuts he could carry.) But in all honesty, he had no clue how to claim this situation as sane.
Reverse’s body cackled with dark red lightning, darker than the shade that he was familiar with. He conjured a spear, the blade sharper and deadlier than Boboiboy Thunderstorm’s. He brought the blade down to his side, his bright red eyes piercing into Fang’s team’s souls.
“Say goodbye,” Reverse growled. He raised his blade, ready to charge into a one-sided massacre.
A piece of metal hit the back of his head instead, tilting his head from the impact. At that moment, everyone stared at the debris, like it’s going to transform into a humungous robot of some sort or burst into confetti, but neither of that happened. Instead, everyone turned towards the source of the debris, which an albino stood by the door frame, leaning against the wall for support.
Fang gawked. At this rate, they’d be back at his funeral for the third time. Maybe they needn’t to bury his body after all, so they can bet on whether he’ll return to life the next time.
Reverse stared at the albino, the spear in his hand remaining. Their eyes locked, but they shared no expression. Despite being newly revived, Boboiboy seemed exhausted. Sweat beaded his forehead, and his breaths were fast and shallow.
“You’re not—” Reverse muttered, his glare softening. “Why are you alive?”
Boboiboy rushed towards his brother, hands clasping his raised one. Slowly, he coaxed him to dismiss the blade, which he did.
“Retakka brought me back—again,” he confessed, looking rather ashamed. “I used to save people. Now I’m getting my ass saved left and right.”
Reverse looked more shell-shocked than happy, as if he’d been surprised so much he’d grown numb and apathic to such miracles and turns. Stiffly, he wrapped his shaking hands around Boboiboy, his fists digging into his back. He buried his chin onto Boboiboy’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of his neck, the beating of his heart.
“Don’t do that. Not again.” Reverse’s eyes turned moist, but his voice sounded normal. His dull eyes stared at the ground. “I can’t lose you again.”
Boboiboy nodded, responding to the hug with his own embrace. “I won’t,” he promised, voice airy. “I’m sorry.”
Like a painting, their hair and eyes began to melt into their original states like mercury. Staring from the roots, white and brown painted into every strand; their eyes fading to red and caramel like crystals reflecting under the spotlight. They were back to themselves. They broke apart, their eyes moist, though Reverse seemed more flustered than his twin.
Fang stepped from his place, his hand scratching the back of his neck.
“I apologize,” he muttered. “I should’ve told the truth earlier. If I did, this wouldn’t have happened.”
Yaya, Ying and Gopal stared at Fang, growing confused. They’d been here for the whole scene to unfold, yet nothing made sense for the past five minutes.
“It’s alright,” Boboiboy says light-heartedly, beaming like his old self again. It was as if the carnage in the station barely got through to him. “I would’ve done the same. I was grateful you did, actually.”
“That makes one of us,” Reverse groused, glaring daggers. “Sometimes, I don’t even know why I put up with these sorts of dramatics.”