The threat of searing red lasers lancing by made Hotguy stumble to a halt and then dive behind the nearest wall, sighing as he heard the laughter of his nemesis somewhere further into the lab.
"Where'd you go? Ah come out, Hotguy. Don't hide that pretty face."
Hotguy smirked and checked over his bow, then reached back to count how many arrows were left in his quiver. Then he glanced back around the corner, calling, "Then stop hiding your pretty face. Fair is fair, after all."
More lasers forced him back into hiding. "Fair? Have you forgotten who you're dealing with here?" The voice was coming closer, and Hotguy began to pick up on a mechanized whirring, along with heavy steps that vibrated through the floor.
"Oh I'm quite familiar, Mumbo Jumbo!" Hotguy nocked an arrow as the villain approached. "You're doing the mech thing again? Yeah that was impressive the first hundred times."
"The mech thing is cool," Mumbo declared.
Hotguy nodded to himself. It was kinda cool. But it was overdone, and he never had much trouble dealing with them. There was always a weak point, usually several in fact, and his aim has never failed him.
"And you had to come all the way out here, to this random lab, and bother these poor people who are just trying to make a living?" Hotguy knew that Mumbo would be coming around the corner soon, but the other liked to take his time, being really into the theatrics of it all. Hotguy could appreciate that. Besides, they've been enemies for so long that they've fallen into a routine, and he often enjoyed these fights. As long as he kept Mumbo distracted, repeatedly defeating him and sending him away in disgrace, the other didn't really cause problems for anyone else. He was far too focused on trying to get the upper hand over Hotguy and perfecting his powers and his technology.
"It's not just a random lab. Do you know what they do here?"
"Uhh." Hotguy had seen the signs but hadn't paid much more attention than it took to verify he was in the right place. Which, the lasers and screaming had pretty much confirmed that when he showed up anyway. "I don't know. Are they developing time travel or something? Velcro 2.0? The signs around here are not very dyslexia friendly."
"That's true, they aren't. Well! They don't really advertise it anyway, but this lab has a section dedicated to cutting-edge defense research. Backed by the Department of Defense of course, they've been looking into better ways to protect troops and vehicles going into combat zones. And I suppose NASA could also benefit from the shields they're developing."
"So... you came here to steal some fancy shields?" Hotguy asked.
"You could say that. I was able to gain access to their technology and repurpose some of it for my own needs. Would you like to see my fancy new mech upgrade?"
"Sure, show me what you got!" Hotguy jumped around the corner and faced the mech. It was around ten feet tall and strongly armored, but didn't look too different from the last model. Within the cockpit he could see Mumbo, his dastardly mustache trimmed and neat, not a single hair out of place. The other smirked at him through the glass, his dark red eyes gleaming. Hotguy was blessed to have been born with enhanced reflexes, and when he focused, he was able to process his surroundings far faster than the average human, allowing him to analyze a situation and decide how to react in milliseconds. So in the time it took for Mumbo to raise an arm of the mech and aim its laser gun at him, he had already seen the gaps in the mech's plating at the knees. It would take his sharpest arrows to get through the underlying mesh that covered the electronics, but still, if he hit those sweet spots it would take out the mech's ability to walk and bring it to the ground, where Hotguy could stick arrows through other gaps in the armor until it was rendered useless.
He rolled swiftly to the side, the laser just barely missing him, and took his shot. His arrow flew true, right toward the knee...
And then Mumbo narrowed his eyes and red energy shimmered across the entire surface of the mech, the arrow bouncing off and clattering to the floor.
Hotguy stared, confused. "What..."
"Forcefield technology!" Mumbo declared, stepping forward and kicking the arrow aside. "Designed to protect from bullets, shrapnel, even lessen the impact of explosions. Your arrows? You might as well be throwing rocks at a tank."
"Wait, hold on now." Hotguy backed up as Mumbo advanced on him, getting another arrow. This one was charged, designed to unleash a vicious shock on whatever it hit. He fired it at the mech's chest, hoping to disable the shield. But though it struck and stuck for a moment, the red energy only seemed to grow brighter, and Mumbo laughed as he yanked the arrow out and threw it out of the way.
"Thanks for the recharge. What are you going to do now, Hotguy?" Mumbo crowed. "You might be the best archer alive, but what do you do when your arrows can't even hit your target anymore?"
Desperate, Hotguy loosed an explosive arrow at him. The blast didn't even make Mumbo stumble. He just waited, unimpressed, while the smoke cleared.
"Well," Hotguy said, lowering his bow. He reached to his side, to his radio. "Then this is the point where I call for backup." He sprinted back for cover while he pressed the talk button, waiting a moment and then shouting, "Doc, he's got a forcefield, over!"
"A forcefield? Do you know what's powering it?"
Hotguy shook his head and yelled, "No idea, just get in here, none of my arrows can get through it! Over!"
"Aw, inviting a friend over?" Mumbo asked as he followed, tossing tables out of the way and grabbing for Hotguy, who ran through a door and out into a hallway, looking around before running for another room to hide in. He stopped to catch his breath, then winced as he heard the crunching of Mumbo simply breaking through the walls between them. "That's nice, maybe we can all have a spot of tea later."
"Oh you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Hotguy shot back, then yelped and kept running when Mumbo burst into the room, showering him in debris. He groaned as he felt a pain in his side; he was getting too old for this. He was only in his early forties but it wasn't as easy as it was when he was a spry, eager new hero in his twenties. Maybe if he sweet-talked real nice, Mumbo would allow him a week of vacation. Or maybe a month. Or a year...
"Doc!" Hotguy shouted desperately into the radio again.
"Coming, coming. Mein Gott. You have no idea how big this place is."
"I think I have a pretty good idea!" Hotguy found himself in a large room filled with various scientific instruments he couldn't begin to guess the function of, along with several desks with computers and books on them.
There were no windows, and when he ran to another door, he found that it led only into a storage room filled with chemicals. He squinted at the various labels, then sighed and turned around, wondering if he could make it back out to the hallway.
Then Mumbo crashed through the wall, laughing. "Always making me chase you around, Hotguy. But this time, I've got you. Nowhere else to run."
Hotguy swallowed, backing up. His arrows were useless, but maybe he could dodge long enough for Doc to get here and disable the forcefield. There was movement in the corner of his eye and he glanced over to see the computers floating up from their desks, Mumbo's eyes glazing over as he read the data off them, and he yanked the cords from their sockets as he pulled the monitors over to float eerily above him.
"You're doing the creepy floaty thing again?" Hotguy said, unable to help snarking at him. "We get it, you're a technopath. As if the giant mech suit that you control with your thoughts isn't enough."
"I'm showing off how good I've gotten at this!" Mumbo retorted. "Look how many independent things I can control at once! Look over there!" He pointed and Hotguy looked over to see a Bunsen burner turn on and off repeatedly. "Haha! And I haven't dropped a single computer!"
"It is impressive, I must say," Hotguy admitted, looking back at him. Mumbo smiled, seeming genuinely delighted. Hotguy decided he was going to have to turn on the charm. Had to distract until Doc showed up.
"Thank you! You know there really aren't that many technopaths out there? And so many of them guard their secrets so jealously," Mumbo said, rolling his eyes. "I'm pretty much self-taught, you know? It's been hard!"
"Oh, I hear you," Hotguy agreed, nodding.
"And all these other heroes are like 'oh Mumbo, you could be using that technology for good, you're so smart, you could do so much with your life' and I'm like! How do you know I'm not doing that, under my secret identity? Maybe this is just a hobby for me, because blowing things up with giant robots and fighting heroes is fun!"
"Mhm, it does seem pretty fun," Hotguy acknowledged.
"And maybe I like seeing certain heroes, who look really good in their tight uniforms," Mumbo continued, voice lowering.
Hotguy grinned at him, flattered as he posed. "Oh? Have you been doing all this just to get my attention?"
"No!" Mumbo replied, but Hotguy could see a slight blush dusting his cheeks.
"Oh it's a tale as old as time," Hotguy lamented. "The villain and the hero, caught in this blurred space between love and hate..."
Mumbo walked closer, mech moving more carefully now, and he knelt down so they could see each other better. "It's hard to believe I've finally got you here, powerless to stop me. Why, I could just reach out and do this..." He reached the hand of his mech out and patted Hotguy's head, surprisingly gentle. Still, it made him tense to feel that metal tapping him, knowing that Mumbo could just crush him. But he trusted that he wouldn't. He enjoyed this rivalry between them, treating it almost like a game. He wouldn't want to do anything that permanently took Hotguy out of the picture.
Hotguy looked around desperately. Where was Doc? The tracker he wore should lead him right to him. Just needed to buy more time. He reached up, catching the metal hand and wrapping his arms around it. He could feel the forcefield humming against his skin, but then it shut off, and Hotguy patted the metal. He gave Mumbo a winning smile, knowing he had captured his attention.
"Is this a new alloy?" Hotguy asked, seeing Mumbo's eyes light up at the question. "Feels a little stronger than the last."
"Oh, yes! So I came up with this new heat treatment that-"
And then Doc swung into the room from a grappling hook, slamming feet first into the mech and knocking it off balance.
"Finally!" Hotguy shouted, scurrying back while Mumbo flailed to get his footing in the giant machine.
"I'm sorry, he just left so much rubble behind him, had to climb over it. Now let's see what we're working with here." Doc slammed a probe into the back of the mech and jumped down, getting a tablet out of the inside pocket of his coat and clicking rapidly.
Mumbo struggled to reach back and pull the probe out, then growled and activated the forcefield again. The probe shot out and Doc swore, grabbing Hotguy's arm to pull him aside as Mumbo swung at them.
"You can take him down, right?" Hotguy asked.
"Of course," Doc assured him. "I was gonna do it the clean way by shutting down his suit, but since he's got that pesky new forcefield..." He started running, urging Hotguy to run along with him. "I'll just have to do it the messy way." He looked over his shoulder at Mumbo and narrowed his eyes, and Hotguy covered his ears. Moments later there was an explosion to the side of the mech that threw it across the room, Mumbo yelping as it tumbled. The floating computers dropped as he lost his focus, and when he struggled to get back up, a second explosion knocked him back down.
"This isn't actually hurting me, you know!" Mumbo shouted as he pushed up on his arms. "It's just annoying!"
"I know," Doc said, using another explosion to blow the floor out from under him. Mumbo fell through to the floor below and Doc chuckled, his mechanical left eye glowing red as he activated his targeting system. He grabbed a gun from his waist and flicked a switch, then explained, "This may be able to destabilize the forcefield so you can get a good shot on him."
"And if it doesn't?"
"Then we improvise."
Hotguy smiled and adjusted his shades, then followed Doc over to the hole in the floor. "Works for me."
Mumbo had already gotten back up, the mech tall enough that he was able to reach back up and grab the ceiling, prepared to hoist himself back up to confront them. Then Doc aimed at him and shot without warning, the gun unleashing a blast of blue energy that was so bright it made Hotguy glad he had his signature shades on. There was an awful sizzling sound and the forcefield flared to life, then guttered out.
"No, that's- what did you do?" Mumbo demanded, looking around the inside of the mech, then briefly closing his eyes, likely checking on whatever system had generated the field. He opened his eyes and scowled at them. "That was rude! But fine, fine, I can fix it. And I don't need a forcefield to do this."
He swung one of those powerful metal arms and hit the ceiling, fist slamming all the way through it, and the floor shuddered violently below Hotguy and Doc's feet before collapsing. They tried to escape but weren't fast enough, falling down to the same level where Mumbo was, and Hotguy managed to roll as he landed, though the impact still winded him.
Doc was built of tougher stuff, but he grunted too as he hit the ground, briefly curling up as he panted for breath.
"That's better. Now!" Mumbo stood his mech to full height, looking proud of himself, and fairly intimidating as rubble rained down around him, the ceiling continuing to fall apart. "Prepare yourself, heroes, for-"
A horrid creaking sound and then a loud crack, and Hotguy's head whipped up as he saw a huge chunk of the ceiling had broken away just above him. His quick reflexes kicked in, or at least, they tried to. But he was exhausted, and it happened so fast even by his standards, and when he went to dive out of the way, he was just a moment too late.
A massive weight slammed into his lower back and his legs, driving him into the floor, and he tried to brace himself against it before screaming in panic as he realized how heavy it was. Then he registered a horrific crunching noise, a split second before pain shot up his spine like a lightning bolt.
It was so bad he couldn't even make a sound, stomach immediately roiling, and he pressed his hand to his mouth as he tried to keep from throwing up.
"Come on Hotguy, we can still-" Doc turned and got a proper look at him, then paled. "Oh fuck."
"It hurts, Doc, help," Hotguy pleaded, trying to drag himself out from under the rubble, but it was far too heavy. He felt a slight relief that his chest wasn't also caught under it, or he likely wouldn't be able to breathe. But it was still agonizing.
"A desk landed on you too, fuck, that's- hold on." Doc hurried over, swearing as he tried to get good footing in all the rubble.
Hotguy managed to look up, seeing Mumbo staring at him in shock. He wanted to ask him for help, but then he felt Doc shifting the desk that had landed on him along with the piece of ceiling, and a sharp pain went through him that made him press his face into his arms, groaning.
"What are these damn things made out of," Doc grumbled. "I think I should be able to push it off you though, and then I can deal with the rest, just relax..."
"Hurry, I think my back might be broken," Hotguy said. His lower body seemed to be going numb and it worried him. He couldn't feel his legs anymore.
"I hope it isn't, but don't worry, I'll get you out of here either way. Just need to... there." Doc shoved the desk off and Hotguy trembled as the weight lessened, but it was still too much for him to push off on his own. He waited, not even daring to twist around to look, not wanting to cause himself more pain. Doc managed to push the rest off, then knelt down, offering his hand.
Hotguy reached back, feeling his lower back and then hissing as pain flared from it. "No, no, definitely broken, I can't..." He shook his head, berating himself for not moving fast enough. He heard Mumbo move and quickly looked back at him. Mumbo was opening the cockpit window, leaning out.
"Are you... actually hurt?" Mumbo asked, staring at him. "Badly hurt?"
"Badly hurt," Hotguy confirmed grimly.
"You broke his back!" Doc shouted and Mumbo shrank back.
"I didn't mean to, oh gosh, let me help..." Mumbo lifted one of the mech's hands to brace the ceiling, then climbed down out of it. Hotguy tried to shift backward, only for an all new panic to sweep through him as he realized his legs weren't responding. He finally looked over his shoulder, seeing his back curved oddly, and his legs laying still. No matter how hard he tried to move them, they just wouldn't move.
"I can't move my legs," he said, breathing hard.
Doc's eyes widened. He reached over, setting a hand on Hotguy's calf. "Do you feel this?"
There was nothing. No sensation. Hotguy felt faint, vision going blurry around the edges. "No. I don't feel it, I. Why can't I feel it?"
"Oh no, oh... Scar." Doc's tone immediately changed, the worry plain on his face, and Hotguy- Scar, their roles as heroes didn't even matter to him right now, he was just Scar and he was injured and it was taking all his willpower not to just start sobbing.
"Scar," Mumbo said softly, starting to get down next to them too, and Scar snapped.
"Get out of here!" he yelled at him, slamming a fist against the floor. His emotions were running hot and he poured it into a rage, not knowing what else to do with everything he was feeling. Mumbo stopped, staring like he had been struck. "Just get out, you won, you beat me! I still have two good arms, get out of my sight before I Hotguy you right through the face!"
"W-well..." Mumbo's eyes looked wet, but surely Scar was just imagining that. Mumbo drew himself up, glaring down at him over his nose, then spun and walked back to his mech. "Yeah! That's right, I defeated you at last, Hotguy! Don't you ever forget this day, when my glorious machines finally triumphed over your pitiful flesh."
Scar growled, then groaned as a fresh wave of pain washed over him. He pressed a hand to his face, wiping tears from his eyes. He would be an easy target now, but Mumbo didn't do anything further to him. He was back in his mech, and he gave Scar a long look, his expression hard to read, before abruptly turning and running out, crashing through walls and seemingly jumping out of the building completely.
"That fiend," Doc muttered. He took Scar's hand. "Okay, I'm not going to try to move you with a spinal injury. I'm going to call an ambulance, okay? You're going to be fine. Just breathe, Scar. Everything will be okay."
Scar nodded, his anger trickling out of him, leaving him feeling even more exhausted and scoured out. He tried again to move his legs, and again failed. Doc squeezed his hand, and used his other hand to get out his phone, calling 9-1-1. Scar looked down at the floor, closing his eyes as misery welled up in his chest. Too worn out to hold it in any longer, he started crying, wondering how it could have all gone so wrong so quickly.