STEVEN
The factory was shut down with 12 minutes and 39 seconds to spare. Doombots 0028 and 0001 were able to shut it down from inside, and, using 0001's original code, re-set all of the Doombots to factory settings.
Grandmommy Longlegs' spiders had ended up being more than a match for the Plaguebots. WalkMan had designed the drones to be fast, nimble, and most importantly, able to be built from Doombot parts in the Doombot factory. He hadn't planned for a million spiders to catch them mid air. He was insane, but not quite "plan for arachnid attacks" crazy.
The funerals for Toxic Masculinity and Doctor Doomsday had drawn nationwide attention. Heroes and Villains both had turned up by the thousands, and a dozen news cameras fought to cover the best vantage points.
Some time before his death, Doctor Doomsday had updated his legal next of kin. I was left in full possession of the Fortress of Doomitude, Doctor Doomsday's home and underground laboratory, and all of the patents and intellectual properties associated with Doomsday, Inc.
Dr. Nigel Doomsday had also included a letter, addressed to me.
"My Dearest Steven,
Family is not the blood that runs through your veins, but the values that live in your heart. Ever since I originally found you as part of a larger scheme against WalkMan, I have realized the truth in those words. You are a kind, compassionate young man, who seeks to do the right thing in any situation. These values are the same I hold, and the same that have made me who I am today.
I was once a father to two wonderful boys, and a husband to one wonderful wife. I was once a regular man, believe it or not; I taught mechanical engineering at the community college, held office hours, graded papers, the whole shebang.
Until one day, when it was all taken from me. A 'Hero' named Chrome Dome killed them while trying to stop a bank robber. He clipped their car while chasing the suspect. Three lives lost, just to catch a man that stole 81 fully insured dollars from a bank teller. And they called it 'justice'.
I knew that wasn't right. It wasn't fair. It wasn't justice. But, according to the law, it was. I swore then to never let laws stand in the way of right. I had to try my best to do what was right, even at my own detriment.
I became your Godfather during a lesson I tried to teach WalkMan. I became your legal guardian after WalkMan's initial demise. I became your employer after you offered your servitude in exchange to re-animate WalkMan. And I became your father when you cried in my arms, just as my infant sons had once done.
If you are reading this, then I have perished before I could tell you this in person. I am proud of you, Steven. I am proud of your commitment to do whats right, for those that need it. I am proud to call you my Son.
Yours eternally, Dad."
I had used excerpts of the will during my eulogy. Heroes and Villains alike had recanted tales of Doctor Doomsday going out of his way to do the right thing, often at the cost of his own wealth or safety. Patients from the Wellness clinic told of how the help they received had saved them, how they had gone on to help others. As the funeral went on, I had to retreat from the public eye. The Fortress of Doomitude was still in shambles, so I retreated to the underground laboratory at Dr. Doomsday's... well, now my house. I was escorted by my chosen Doombot bodyguards: 0028, 0001, and 2.0.
"I still think this shouldn't count as a loss" Doombot 2.0 said. "More like a transition of power than anything."
"Oh, quit complaining, Nigel." Doombot 0001 said. "You didn't hear me bitchin' up a storm when you uploaded me, remember?"
"Grandpa, we did that from a hospice bed. Steven uploaded my mind from the-"
Doombot 0001 blew the robotic equivalent of a raspberry, which involved a lot of static. "Doesn't matter, we're both dead in the technical sense." He said, sauntering through the house towards the stairs to his lab. "You can bunk with me if you keep the damn lights off."
Doombot 2.0 waited in the living room as I splashed cold water on my face from the kitchen sink.
"How the hell am I supposed to run the Doomsquad?" I asked, as I turned off the sink.
"With help." Doombot 2.0 said, handing me a towel. "If you recall, I rarely did anything alone. Well, besides fighting WalkMan, but that's not important to dwell on."
We both glanced at the lead, sound dampening urn on the mantelpiece. No noises would ever get through WalkMan's final resting place.
"So how about we start focusing on the future, instead of the past." He said, giving me a wink. "After all, there's a lot of villainous mischief left to be done for the right reasons."
I smiled at my dad. "Would you stay with me, to help?"
Doombot 2.0 tilted his head. "Of course, Son."
I stuck out a hand. "Then welcome to the Doomsquad, Dad."
