Project ROWDY 24

All four of them — Rowdyruffs and Suit Guy — hit the gap at maximum velocity.  They didn’t slip through the breach. They tore it open. Brick

All four of them — Rowdyruffs and Suit Guy — hit the gap at maximum velocity. 

They didn’t slip through the breach. They tore it open.

Brick moved first, shoulders tight, eyes already tracking next positions before they were clear of the gap. Drones collapsed around them too late to matter, swatted aside by stray wake. Trinity plus one punched through the swarm and into the belly of the beast.

Beyond lay the maw itself—a planetary-scale gullet lined with grinding plates as processing rings scraped against each other in slow grind, engine teeth each the size of entire cities locked mid-cycle. 

Once again, the sheer scale of the mecha made Brick’s brain stutter and nearly freeze in place as he took it again. This moon of a robot, a mega-sattelite that looked more like a blown up action figure…

It wasn’t just big. It was wrong. Like someone had taken normal space and stretched it.

Whoever had made it… whoever had built it… they were entirely out of their fucking minds.

Yeah, no wonder the others can’t help. Brick grit his teeth as his heat vision flared through a strut with as much force as he could push into it, shearing through several more drones and tentacles. The New Guardians would be dead meat, even if any of them could fly. Sure, he respected Robot and Butch liked Rex, despite how much his brother would deny that fact, but they weren’t anything at all close to the originals in term of scale and power.

C-tier at best compared, and that was with Robot, Rex and Black Samson bringing the average up by a good bit. A solid General Defense squad but nothing compared to the average Orange/A-Tier baseline that was the former Guardian’s Global Defense squad.

At the maw’s center, a structure pulsed with energy. Bright green, almost toxic. Geometric but organic, like something between machine and cell.

“That’s it,” Brick called. “The control node!”

The node flared like it heard him. Defensive protocols screamed online. Energy cutters spat from coil guns buried in the mecha’s surface. Tendrils whipped out of subspace folds and reached for them like they were trash to be vacuumed.

“On three. One.”

They dodged. Butch laughed. Boomer surged electric. The suit pulsed—plate shift, cannon bloom, reactor spin-up.

“Two.”

Every vector aligned. Every eye fixed.

“Thr—”

It hit Butch first. The tendril. Brick saw the motion, didn’t see the source. Didn’t matter. Coil-wrapped like a snare trap. Yanked clean out of formation. He fought, of course he fought, burst green like a flare, but the spiral around him compressed and dragged. Too fast. Too strong. Headed straight for the maw’s inner grind.

Boomer screamed his name, voice cracked sharp.

Brick recalculated. Options: zero. Distance: closing. By the time he got close enough for physical interception, it’d be too far from him to do much at all to help his brother.

“Butch, pulse overload.” He screamed into the void of space. “Now!”

Butch tried as he heard his brother, green life energy flaring across his body, bright enough to leave afterimages. The tendril’s surface smoked, cracked in places, but held.

Butch kept moving toward the maw.

Suit Guy broke formation too, thrusters at maximum, antimatter warhead primed. “I can intercept!”

But Brick’s calculations said otherwise. Neither of them would make it in time.

Then something blurred past them both. Fast.

A yellow streak punctuated by a thundercrack that didn’t carry in vacuum but Brick could have almost sworn he heard it anyway. It slammed into the tendril holding Butch with enough force that the impact flash momentarily blinded Brick’s enhanced vision.

When he could see again, Butch was spinning free, the tendril severed. And a figure hovered where the impact had occurred.

Yellow and blue. Human-shaped. Fists still smoking from the hit.

“INVISIBLE!” Boomer shouted, excited despite everything.

The figure’s head snapped toward him, clearly annoyed even at this distance, mouth covered in a breathing mask that clearly had some kind of GDA communicator in it because Brick could hear him in his ears. “Invincible!” he corrected. “IN-VIN-CI-BLE!”

Each syllable was punctuated by another strike against the moon-sized mecha’s surface, his fists denting metal with at least as much force as they had managed separately. The last one sent another tendril a mile long caving inward like a crushed tin can, hanging loose and free, as it was torn from the rest of it. Vince got stronger. Brick couldn’t help the grin on his face, especially as he realized that much.

Invincible was no Omni-Man but at the very least, he was good enough.

The tactical situation recalculated instantly in Brick’s mind. Five fighters now. Not four. And the new one hit hard. Invincible tracked as variable-level equal to Trinity combined. Combat volatility extremely high. Field advantage significantly improved.

Suit Guy didn’t waste time on introductions. His armor reconfigured, weapons locking onto the nearest drones. “Enough talky, more breaky!” he shouted, unleashing a barrage that shredded three at once.

Mark glanced their way, momentarily distracted from his assault. “Who’s the robot guy?”

Brick just shrugged, already refocusing on the control node. They had an opening. They needed to take it.

Suit Guy’s voice carried through external comms. “Oh my bad, the name’s Tech Jacket. Forgot I didn’t introduce myself.”

“Tech Jacket?” Mark echoed.

Butch, now recovered and back in the fight, actually snorted mid-energy blast. His barrage cut swaths through approaching drones, green fire trailing from his hands like machine gun spray as he pulled off the Vegeta mimicry he’d spent months practicing. “Tech Jacket?”

The armored figure shrugged inside his suit, the motion visible even as he pivoted to blast another drone with a high-powered laser. “Yeah. See, my suit’s called a Tech Jacket, so I… decided to go by… Tech…” His voice trailed off. “You know, saying it out loud, it does sound kinda dumb, huh?”

“Sounds a little simple, maybe,” Mark offered, smashing through five drones in a single pass. “But that’s not bad.”

Butch laughed again, forming an energy ball on his feet and soccer-kicking it toward a cluster of drones. It expanded massively on impact, wiping out two dozen at once and disintegrating a section of the mega-mecha’s tail. “Yeah, you would say so, Invulnerable.”

Mark’s jaw set as he tore through more drones and slammed a building-shattering punch into what might have been the thing’s eye. “You know damn well what my name is!”

Boomer darted between them, hands crackling with lightning that he condensed between his palms. “I just wanna know—” The lightning launched, tearing into another optical node. “—why you picked an—” He blurred, tearing through half a dozen drones in his path. “—adjective as your name.”

“Yeah,” Butch added, counting off points on his fingers while still somehow continuing his barrage. “I mean, I get you’re a big fan of the Immortal, RIP Morty, but you really bit his fucking shit.”

Invincible blinked. “What?”

Butch shook his head. “You stole his whole fucking flow.”

Mark looked up from where he’d just slammed two drones together, his expression incredulous. Tech Jacket rocketed past him, micro-missiles dropping in a targeting pattern across the impossibly huge mecha’s surface. “What? No! That’s n-not true!”

“You stole his colors,” Butch continued, gesturing at Mark’s costume. “You stole the I on his suit, you even stole his adjective-type name, man. Whole fucking flow, dawg.”

Boomer nodded sagely, mid-combat. “Word for word. Bar for bar.”

Brick’s patience frayed at the pointless time-wasting. “Guys, enough bullying Vince.”

“Stop calling me that!” Mark shouted back.

Brick ignored him, eye fixed on the control node again. The monster had shifted its defenses, but left a new vulnerability in the process. “Let’s finish this. I’m getting bored.”

He didn’t need to say more. His brothers read his intent instantly. Formation Sigma: Burnline Protocol.

All three Rowdyruffs activated their laser vision in unison at full force, six beams converging on the same point of the control node, each pair with enough force behind it to level a chunk of a city. Tech Jacket’s antimatter weapon discharged alongside them as Mark slammed into the weakened area with the force of a small meteor.

The node fractured. Cracked. Shattered.

Energy surged across the giant mecha’s entire form—a chain reaction that rippled through its systems. Drones dropped, suddenly inert. Tendrils retracted. The maw began to close.

The massive entity convulsed once, twice—then began to rotate, its segments realigning.

“It’s retreating,” Tech Jacket called out, scanning with whatever systems his suit contained. “Damage to the control node exceeded critical threshold!”

Brick watched as the planetary-scale monstrosity began to move away from Earth, its propulsion systems firing. The danger wasn’t over—something that size could return—but they’d driven it off.

For now.

The five of them regrouped in Earth’s orbit, watching the giant mecha-snake shrink against the star field. No one spoke for several seconds, the magnitude of what they’d just survived sinking in.

Tech Jacket broke the silence. “Thanks for the assist. Couldn’t have handled that alone.”

Brick studied him properly now, with no threat in front of him. Human in alien armor. Unknown quantity. Potential threat.

“Well, anyway,” he continued, already drifting backward, “thanks again for the help. I should probably—”

Brick moved before he finished the sentence, intercepting his path. “Nuh-uh. Bringing alien invasions to Earth is a no-no. The GDA’s gonna have some words with you.”

Tech Jacket’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? But we just pushed back the aliens! We got rid of the Kresh too!”

“Too many coincidences,” Brick countered. “Two alien incursions centered on you in one day?”

“Besides,” Tech Jacket argued, “all aliens aren’t bad!”

Invincible drifted closer. “He’s got a point.”

Brick ignored him, keeping focus on Tech Jacket. “You know the aliens by name? Who are you even?”

Tech Jacket’s helmet retracted slightly, revealing a human face beneath—not an adult too, maybe sixteen or seventeen, if you pushed it that far. Probably around the same age as Invincible. His expression showed relief, gratitude, and a clear intent to leave all at once. “Whoa, whoa, I’m cool. My name’s Zack. This is just a battle suit.”

“Not human make, though,” Brick noted flatly.

Zack shifted uncomfortably. “W-well, no, it’s alien.”

Cecil’s voice crackled through Brick’s earpiece. “Ask him how he got his hands on it.”

Brick didn’t hesitate. “How’d you get your hands on it?”

Zack sighed, then launched into an explanation about the Geldarians, the Kresh, a war in another solar system, and somehow being chosen to wear the most powerful weapon in an alien arsenal. All of it delivered while floating in Earth’s stratosphere, Cecil listening through Brick’s comms.

When he finished, Brick’s suspicion hadn’t lessened. “So… you just brought back an alien battle suit from a species you don’t really know much about. How do you know they can’t remote control that thing and use you as a vanguard for an alien invasion? Or use you to undermine Earth to make it easier to take over?”

“Good line of questioning, Brick,” Cecil’s voice sounded off in his ear.

Brick didn’t think much of the compliment. It wasn’t worth any recognition, really. That whole basic plan was nothing more than classic alien invasion protocol back on their world and Brick doubted it was any different here.

Besides, he was already used to it, having hung around plenty of villains in a bunch of dumb villainous team ups that always fell apart because…

Well, villains.

The Legion of Doom was different though, more organized and less prone to random pointless backstabbing. But they were still jerks either way because they’d never let him join. Lex Luthor was such a dickhead, with that stupid age requirement of his. Brick never had proof, but he was pretty sure they only made that rule because they knew he had Superman merch.

Zack waved his hands frantically, basically making jazz hands in front of his face. “That’s crazy talk!”

“Yeah,” Invincible chimed in again, the superhero in blue and yellow floating over a little closer as he finally pulled off his breathing mask, “don’t you think that’s kinda… I dunno, racist?”

Boomer drifted closer, floating backwards with his hands behind his head. “Not really. That’s like Alien Invasion 101.”

Brick felt his lips twitch upward slightly. Even Boomer knew that much.

Zack’s expression shifted, earnest and honest sincerity pouring off him. “Anyway, the Geldarians are cool people. They’d never do that. They’re all about goodness and helping the weak and supporting others, and they hate murder and conquest too,” Tech Jacket continued speaking, sounding like a patriot for an entirely different alien species. “And trust me, with the war against the Kresh over now, there’s not gonna be anymore alien attacks ’cause of me.”

“Oh, really?” Butch’s voice dripped skepticism.

“Yeah, really,” Zack insisted.

Butch pointed upward, beyond them all. “Then what’s that?”

Brick’s gaze snapped to where Butch indicated, the look of surprise on his face less for the fact that there was something there at all and more for the fact his brother had caught something he hadn’t.

His widened eyes narrowed as he spotted what Butch was referring to a split-second later. Shit. 

Against the starfield, a new signature approached Earth orbit. It was barely a cell compared to the size of the small-moon-sized mecha, but still massive. Definitely a ship. 

Definitely alien.

His body tensed. “Trinity, Formation A—”

Tech Jacket burst in front of them, thrusters flaring pink from his feet as he waved his hands frantically. “Wait, wait, wait! I know that ship. That’s the Geldarians. They’re good guys.”

Brick didn’t move, didn’t blink. Just stared.

Tech Jacket’s armored shoulders hunched slightly. “Promise.”

For a long moment, no one moved, just five figures floating in the low atmosphere. Then Cecil’s voice came through the comms again, this time addressing all of Trinity. “Stand down. Let’s hear them out.”

And just like that, the crisis pivoted to diplomacy. From cosmic horror to first contact in under an hour.

Brick hated days like this.

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

The backyard of Zack’s parent’s lake house wasn’t designed for diplomatic summits.

Especially not intergalactic ones.

Brick hovered three feet off the ground, arms crossed, watching as Cecil conducted Earth’s first official communication with the Geldarian delegation. Butch floated nearby, bored enough that he’d started spinning in slow circles. Boomer had drifted even higher, apparently fascinated by the alien ship’s hull design.

The Geldarians themselves looked almost human, except for their green skin and exaggerated facial features. The emperor spoke with Cecil in measured tones while his daughter kept stealing glances at Zack.

Cross-species romance. Brick filed that under “potential security concern” and “none of my business” all at the same time.

Donald’s synthetic frame stood rigid beside Cecil, recording everything with the all-purpose tablet computers the GDA had access to. At the same time, GDA agents and soldiers secured the perimeter, though what good they’d do against aliens with Tech Jacket-level technology was questionable.

Granted, Tech Jacket was supposedly like 100 times stronger than the Geldarians. Even still, one percent of an antimatter missile that could wipe out a whole city worth of metal was still a lot. Either way, apparently, they had come to warn Zack about the possibility of Kresh coming his way only to be attacked by the giant space-snake, a thing they called the Scavengine, and their ship getting badly damaged.

Zack’s mother couldn’t stop touching his face, as if confirming he was real. She’d already cried twice. Now she just kept straightening his hair while he squirmed and his dad threw stuff on the grill.

The whole scene felt absurd after what they’d just faced. A planet-sized threat reduced to a backyard barbecue with aliens.

“Weird day, huh?”

Mark had drifted over, his hair rippling in the breeze. He hovered at the same height as Brick, his posture deliberately casual.

Brick didn’t uncross his arms. “Standard procedure for interdimensional incursions.”

“That was standard?” Mark’s eyebrows shot up. “What’s extraordinary look like?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Mark studied him for a moment. “You guys handled yourselves pretty well up there. For kids.”

Brick’s eyes narrowed. “You’re, what, sixteen?”

“Seventeen.”

“Close enough.” He turned his attention back to Cecil and the Geldarians. “We’ve been doing this since we were five.”

Mark whistled low. “Five? That’s… intense.”

“Eh.” The boys shrugged in unison.

“Hmmm…” Mark nodded. “Hey, question, you guys didn’t have breathing masks up there…” He looked them up and down, “so how were you talking in space?”

Three sets of eyes looked at Mark, but Brick spoke up first. “What are you talking about?”

Mark nodded, clearly just talking nonsense. “Okay… skipping that. before I forget. My mom wanted me to invite you guys to dinner next week.”

Brick’s train of thought derailed completely. Of all the possible contingencies he’d calculated, this hadn’t made the list.

“Dinner?” he echoed.

Butch stopped spinning. Boomer dropped three feet in surprise.

“Dinner?” they repeated in unison.

Mark nodded, looking almost embarrassed. “Yeah, you know. Food? At a table? With other people?”

“We know what dinner is,” Brick snapped, mind still processing the concept. “We just… didn’t think she was… serious.”

“Great,” Mark said, apparently taking Brick’s confusion for acceptance. “Wednesday at seven? I’ll text you the address.”

“We don’t have phones,” Boomer blurted out.

“Seriously?” Mark blinked. “How do you guys… nevermind. I’ll give it to Cecil, then.”

He drifted away before any of them could respond, rejoining the adults’ conversation.

Butch floated closer to Brick. “Are we actually going?”

Good question.

Brick watched as Cecil nodded at something the Geldarian emperor said. As Zack’s mom fussed over her returned son. As Mark explained something to his father, gesturing toward Trinity.

As a bunch of cops showed up pointing guns before Cecil shut them down to avoid risking a galactic war.

Normal people doing normal things, even surrounded by aliens and superhumans.

“We’ll think about it.”