Dark Chronicle: Long Live the Queen

Chapter 19: A Second Chance

Max and Monica arrived at another miner's break room, which bore a striking resemblance to the one where Monica had initially appeared before Max. However, a substantial metal door stood at the opposite end of the room, serving as an entrance to the zelmite. Monica was acutely aware that this was the very place where Max had met his demise. The memory of his death hauntingly resurfaced, playing on an incessant loop in her mind.

Concern wrinkled Max's brow as he noticed the worry etched across Monica's face. "Monica, are you alright?"

Monica, consumed by her own thoughts, remained oblivious to his inquiry. She knew that their showdown with Flotsam loomed ever closer, and the crucial question persisted in her thoughts: How could she save Max?

Yet, before she could unearth a solution, Max firmly grasped her shoulder, jolting her back to reality. "Monica? Is something wrong?" he inquired, genuine concern emanating from his voice.

"I'm... I'm fine, Max," she replied, conjuring a hasty excuse. "I'm probably feeling lightheaded after using that starglass."

"If you'd like, we can turn back and have Doctor Dell examine you," Max suggested, his thoughts were on her well-being. "You could rest at the mansion, and we can come back tomorrow."

However, before Monica could formulate a response, their conversation was abruptly shattered by the sounds of a haunting and all-too-familiar laughter resonating from above. The sinister tone of the laugh bore a disturbingly clownish and malevolent quality.

Max's voice trembled with a mix of recognition and apprehension. "That voice?!"

Though fully aware of the identity lurking behind that dreaded laugh, Monica opted to feign ignorance, allowing a mask of surprise to settle upon her features. "It can't be!" she exclaimed, her feigned astonishment masking the truth she carried within.

Both Max and Monica gazed up at the towering ceiling, their progress suddenly impeded as Flotsam descended from above. His very appearance had undergone a significant augmentation with a cybernetic composition. While three-quarters of his face remained organic, the remainder had been replaced with artificial enhancements. Notably, he possessed a glass eye infused with advanced technology, and his torso boasted the formidable strength of Zelmite metal. His once-human hands had been replaced by a menacing drill and a versatile circular grip. Furthermore, his feet had been mechanized, and sleek Nova jets adorned the sides of his lower back, granting him the ability to take flight. Metal Flotsam wielded his arsenal with deadly precision, utilizing his drill, claw grip, and even unleashing potent beams of magic from his ocular apparatus to launch devastating attacks. Additionally, he brandished a modified version of the formidable RoBomb, its once bumpy and red exterior now transformed into a sleek and ominous shade of black.

Flotsam, harbouring an unwavering grudge, had not allowed the memory of his defeat at the hands of Max and Monica to fade. Driven by an unrelenting desire for vengeance, he approached with an ominous warning. "Okay, folks, this time you're definitely gonna be toast. You think I can let you off lightly for what you've done to me?!"

Max's perplexed expression mirrored his confusion as he observed Flotsam once again "Hang on, so Flotsam wasn't being controlled by Griffon?"

Monica, her voice tinged with a hint of resignation, offered her conclusion. "Guess he's just rotten on his own."

Flotsam contemptuously dismissed the mention of his former boss's name, fully aware that Max and Monica had already vanquished him. "Ha! Who cares about Griffon, anyway? I got a new bossman now." he declared; his voice laced with arrogance. With a derisive chuckle, he continued, "Griffon was a girl scout compared to this guy!"