[Faith, Hope, and Charity: Act Two in Progress]

At least it wasn’t full-grown.

As the salty water and smell of rotten meat hit me like twin tidal waves, knocking Fursona and me against the far wall, and the Florida maneater surfed the tide toward us, I got my first good look at its head and realized that its size was the only good news. “That’s a fucking laser cannon! Where’d she get that?” I screamed, throwing myself into the murky water.

Bweeeeeeem!

I surfaced, spluttering, a moment later. The undercroft had filled up to our knees in water, and though the lab tables were still above the surface, getting there would be a chore—especially with the maneater thrashing through the water toward us. Fursona tossed herself toward a workbench that was only partially underwater, and I used [Solar Wing] to fly toward the vaulted ceiling overhead.

Once I’d broken free from the disgusting water, I whirled to face the—

—“Oh shit!”

Bweeeeeeeem!

As I circled, I saw the maneater’s head whip around to face me, and the laser sliced toward my face. It only touched my head for a moment, but the beam ate superhero damage like Gourmet going through a beef stick, and I dove for the water to avoid it as it whipped back and forth through the air.

[HP 6/13]

“No air support on this one,” I muttered. The speed that its laser beam had flipped to me told me it’d just target anything in the air. Would it do the same for a workbench?

Sure enough, it flipped around, sending its beam slicing through robotic arms and carefully organized tool racks as it whirled to face Fursona, who dove into the water just before the beam made contact. She splashed back to the surface as the red light stopped, then waded toward the maneater. “We’ve gotta take it out!”

“But how?” I remembered the beating a full-grown one had given Brick House; he’d only survived it because of his ludicrous, Tank-based Grit and sheer guts. Worse, it’d taken him a full Episode to wear down the real Florida Maneater, and he’d been a major league villain. Did we have that kind of firepower?

“Get it on you!” Fursona shouted, and I fired a [Starlance] its way. The scales almost seemed to absorb the blow, and a moment later, I dunked myself into the water as the laser spun toward me.

[Dramatic Damage! +1 Drama Point]

“You two in over your heads?” Sister Sly’s voice asked over the laser and the sloshing water. “How about I give you a hand?”

The remaining, undamaged robot arms activated, moving mechanically toward tubes, which dispensed various grenades and devices. A laser grid sprung across the room as one grenade hit the water, cutting me off from Fursona and the maneater. Another flew through the air and hit the water near me, filling the room with fire for a moment before it went out.

“Only Theseus gets to make dumb arm puns!”

I whirled toward the arms, dodging another set of fire grenades that pushed me through the water as the maneater’s lasers whipped back and forth across the room, and used [Improvised Ovation].

[Faker with Flair! +1 Flamboyance Point]

As my beam shut down, though, I realized we had another problem. “You didn’t think that’d stop me, did you?” Sister Sly said.

“I was kind of hoping, honestly.” I jumped toward the laser grid, [Quick-Time Changing] into Lab Assistant Panic.

“EVERYONE STOP! THE LAB ASSISTANT’S BACK!

TIME FOR THE GENIUS TO START HER ATTACK!”

[Flashy Fitting-Room! +1 Flamboyance Point]

[Steel Yourself! +1 Grit Point]

I crashed through the beams, the [Freeze Frame] eating the damage and popping back up as TA-1LZ swam for the nearest workbench. Her rubber bullets were already firing at the baby maneater, whose scales bounced them effortlessly, but the distraction gave a window, and Fursona’s [Double Kick] slammed home, knocking the gator down into the water.

It surfaced quickly, thrashing water across the room as I lunged for an un-lasered workbench. The grenade dispensers were still pushing bombs into the room, and what was left of the robotic arms reached down and failed to grab them. Instead, they floated across the churning water, riding the waves and gradually covering the surface as Sister Sly laughed through the intercom.

I grabbed some tools and an unactivated bomb, pulled myself onto the workbench, and got to work. “Okay, we’re, uh, building a Phalanx-Breaker. It’s an armor-piercing weapon using resistor-loop physics and quantum-proton generators to break down steel and carbon-fiber ceramics. [Science has Rules?], but I don’t have to follow them!”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

[Pseudoscientific Mumbo-Jumbo! +1 Drama Point]

The maneater’s laser swept overhead twice, and the water looked more like the West Coast reservoirs that used floating balls to keep the sun off the water than a flooded workspace when I finished building my improvised device. Worse, the Phalanx-Breaker wasn’t a weapon; it was a bomb! It sat in my hand, ticking down faster and faster.

I had to get rid of it!

As the ticking reached a fever pitch, I lunged off my workbench into the bomb-covered water. The maneater spun to face me, its tail knocking TA-1LZ from her perch and into the pool. The lasers cut across the water, and I threw the Scutum-Breaker at the same time my head went under.

Bweeeeem!

WHUMP!

As the explosion detonated, the shockwave pushed me to the bottom. A moment later, the maneater’s massive claws tore into my lab coat, ripping it to shreds and leaving scratches that would have been lethal across my back and shoulders.

[HP 4/13]

I pushed myself to the surface amid roaring and screaming. The smell of burning wire and flesh filled the room, and as I got my bearings, I saw that the maneater’s laser cannon was little more than a twisted hunk of sparking scrap.

“You [Beep!] assholes! That cost me a fortune to get! I’ll make you pay!” Sister Sly shouted.

The maneater thrashed toward Fursona, who hopped from one platform to another but couldn’t outrun the gator’s churning legs and tail. Still, she had its attention, and I clambered onto my own platform. I was soaking wet, shredded, and ready to try something new.

I could try Rainy Day; I’d almost certainly be able to get a combo off, and with the disgusting water filling the room and sparking wires overhead, it’d probably take out the maneater. But the whole room was soaked, and I couldn’t do it without also hitting Fursona and myself. So, cursing, I watched as my partner fled from the maneater, dodging this way and—

WHUMP!

—that.

Something detonated under the gator, sending a spray of water across the whole room, and just like that, I had a plan. “Lead it toward the bombs!” I shouted and started transforming into Copy Cat.

Fursona gasped for breath as she hopped to another workbench, this one next to me. “It’s not that easy! The damn thing really wants us dead!”

“I know, I know. Transform!” I said, starting to merge with Tails

Another explosion rocked Sister Sly’s lab as my familiar and I became one; I couldn’t see where it was, but it shook the table I was on, and I fell into the water. The maneater stopped thrashing after Fursona and cut through the water toward me.

Which, unfortunately, was exactly what I wanted it to do.

My transformation finished, and I used [Leaping Leopards] to close the gap, splashing down onto its back. My claws barely cut into its thick, scaly hide, and it hissed—the sound gripped my stomach like Iron Fist’s fist. But I pushed through the terror and used [Cat-Scratch Fever]. My claw sliced into the monster’s neck, and its thrashing turned even more frenzied as I jumped free and splashed into the water.

[Badass Move! +1 Badass Point]

[Dramatic Damage! +1 Drama Point]

I swam for damp land as Tails counted down from five in my head; I only had that long before the creature’s blindness faded and it started hunting again. Four, three, two…

I hit the workbench and pulled my wet cat body onto it just as the water behind me erupted.

WHUMP!

The explosion rocked the whole lab again, and sparks rained from the ceiling as conduits snapped from the shaking. The vaulted roof cracked, filling the space with dust, and the maneater lumbered toward me through the dust. The explosion had knocked it back, but it kept coming doggedly.

So, like the cat I was, I ran away.

I used [Hometown Heroine] to get the speed to jump from one platform to another, trying to angle the half-blind gator into as many bombs as possible. Explosions shook the room, and tables started to fall apart as bits of the ceiling collapsed onto them. I had no idea whether the church would hold up, but I couldn’t stop. Fursona launched kicks into the monster’s side whenever it entered a grenade-free stretch of water, then baited it back toward more bombs.

After almost a minute of fleeing and watching [Cat Scratch Fever] tick, the monstrous megafauna shudddered and went still, floating in the middle of the room amidst the rubble and shrapnel.

[Good Thinking! +1 Cunning Point]

“Is it…dead?” Fursona asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s a gap in the ceiling. I can fly us out of here, but we should hurry before the whole place collapses. I’ll get into Understudy.”

“Got it.” Fursona waded toward the maneater as I spun. It lay there, unmoving. My back faced it, and as it left my vision, I saw its battered jaw snap shut around my sidekick’s leg! A second later, it dragged her under!

It started rolling even as I landed on my platform, already spinning into a [Limelight Barrage]. The thing had my girlfriend, and it rolled back and forth, dunking her and dragging her to the surface as it spun over and over. Whitewater sloshed over the tables and benches. Then the [Starlances] started firing.

[Dramatic Damage! +5 Drama Points]

The gator hissed, letting Fursona go and thrashing in the water. It went still again as she hopped toward my platform, shaking. I couldn’t tell if it was from the water or the maneater’s attack. “Thanks,” she chattered through our earpiece.

“No problem.” I summoned my sailboard and launched us through the ceiling before something else could go wrong in the lab.

[End of Act One: Act Two in Three Minutes]

As we broke through into the church’s sanctuary, where the tank and maneater dunking chair had been, I angled for the door. The walls had cracked, and it wouldn’t hold up against much more fighting—at least, not the minor league kind or the explosives Sister Sly loved. Plus, if any more bombs went off below, I didn’t want to be trapped in the rubble.

We blew through the door and landed on the asphalt outside, rolling across it. I recovered onto a knee and both hands while Fursona’s tattered fursuit took three more rolls before she got herself under control. “You good!?” I shouted.

She picked herself up. “Let’s not do that again. Swimming with the sharks is one thing, but the first rule of finding swimming holes in Tortuga West is that you don’t mess with a maneater.”

“Yeah. Jungle Jim probably would have told us that if we’d asked.” I brushed off my costume as a camera drone swung over the groaning church, recording its damaged facade. “So, all that’s left is Sister Sly, then. Where is she?”

“Right here! Game over, Fursona!” A set of power armor crashed through the church’s wooden doors and landed on the asphalt, its jet boots melting tar.

[Faith, Hope, and Charity: Act Three in Progress]