MVR - Round 2

R15

BOOM

"Mommy! Daddy!" I screamed, as I ran into my mother's arms.

"It's going to be okay, Johnny. Mommy wants you to run from this house. Don't look back. Everything is going to be okay!"

I watched as the sky became swarmed with... metal things, as people were slaughtered left and right.

Dad ran up to me and grabbed my shoulders.

"Son, starting today, you need to go and survive on your own. Listen to that voice in your head. He will guide you. Our great Paladin of War will always be there for you. And so will we. But you need to live. You must!"

I snapped awake, as the lights from the curtains of the run down shack shone in my eyes.

"Gah. Blasted sunlight. Ugh." I muttered, as I shifted off of the couch, making my way to the desk, where I picked up my gun, performing usual maintenance and cleaning.

"You're awake." A girl's voice called out to me. I turned around.

"Yeah. How was your morning, Corey?"

Corey smiled weakly, as she made her way to the living room. She was still in crutches.

"Seeing you grow up everyday is enough to make me happy, John."

Corey noticed the weapon in my hands, and pursed her lips.

"I still don't approve of you playing around with firearms. A 15 year old boy shouldn't be owning a gun."

"That's not up to you to decide." I said, as I strapped the handgun to my belt.

"It's big bro's decision. And he would have wanted me to master it."

Corey sighed, as she poured some coffee into a cup.

"That's the problem. I don't want you to end up like Sparty." Her bottom lip quavered.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to trigger it, Corey."

It has been ten years, since Ben had rescued me from those crazy fools. We had been on the run since then, running from them. And running from Mogul. The entire world had become a wasteland, and in the ten years since the Iron Council invaded our world, mankind did nothing to fight back.

Because there was nothing we could do.

I left the living room and chugged some coffee, as I looked at myself in the mirror.

Corey told me guys turn super hot once they became 24-25 years old. I guess in my case, another ten years?

"Hey, Decen." I muttered, staring at myself. Ever since Ben had rescued me and fought off the entire Iron Council Specialist force on his own, buying time for the rest of us to escape, I had made it a mission to grow strong for his sake. I got myself a razor and began trimming my hair to look like his. A buzz cut. But even so, my face, remained unchanged. Still a kid. Still naive. Still weak.

I grimaced.

"It's about to be the 121st month since you stopped contacting me. What's going on, man. I'd really appreciate it if you even showed up to say hi once in a while."

I gripped the sink, as I left the bathroom. This was stupid. I made my way to the med room, to visit my brother.

"Sup, Big Bro." I said, as I sat in front of Ben, who remained catatonic. His face emotionless, as I could still see the servos and components from his body trying their best to come together, but his brain was still missing a huge portion from when Turbo set off an explosive on his face.

My vision flashed to that memory, as I clutched my head.

Go! Get outta here, John!

"No! Ben I can't leave you! Please!" I pleaded, sobbing and trying to grab Ben's leg before Corey ran up to me and scooped me up.

I watched as Ben turned around to try to fight off Turbo, but it was too late, as the more superior cyborg smashed my brother in the side of the face, deforming his metallic endoskeleton and stuffing the charge in the gap. I watched as Ben's eyes widened, realizing what was going to happen. The explosion, tearing and ripping away at both his flesh and his components.