User blog:Aerostar/Return of the Red Flash: Ch. 2

'''Ch. 2 Last Stand'''

The sun, still as bright as ever even under a smoggy yellow sky, signaled the beginning of the Red Flash's last day in the village of Finaville, headed by Don Iguana. It was today where Dillon's success in battling the grock raids would determine the village's survival.

Russ pedaled out of the village's western gate on his helibike to meet Dillon. He pawed at his "victory charm" anxiously. "Hey, Dillon...I just want to say you've been doing a really good job. You collect scruffles and ore, you give the towers orders, and not once did you say a word of complaint. You just fought on. I just want to say I'm really proud of you, buddy. Now let's get ready for the final raid!"

Russ began to pedal, lifting the helibike off the dirt and into the air as he began to patrol the plains and hills around Finaville. Dillon curled into a ball, charging for half a second before whizzing down the plains. It wasn't long before he tracked down the first field of scruffles, though on a bad day they were hard to find since they would sprout in all sort of different locations.

After gathering all of the scruffles Dillon could, he sat down on a black stone to take a break. Snatching a single scruffle fruit fron his bag, he peeled back the brittle, onion-like skin. Underneath, Dillon scraped away at a waxy membrane, leaving only the sweet fruit inside. Dillon nibbled at the fruit. The scruffle flavor was something to be desired, though it could provide him with ready energy. Finishing the brief snack, Dillon stood up and began to charge another roll in the direction of a mine.

Easily spotting the glowing blue beacon from afar, Dillon tracked down the miine and entered, ready to do some digging. Befoe he could, though, he was tasked with the removal of a Helmgrock. No one had figured out what grocks like these did out during the daytime, as they never headed for the village until they were under the cover of night. Utilizing his miner goggles, Dillon made quick work of the Helmgrock, grinding it into dust.

After acquiring an ample amount of ore and several Earth Dews and Green Eyes, Dillon returned to the outer world to continue his search. It was then that Dillon began to wonder about what the final raid would be like. Would there be any new grocks? Would the "last boss" grock appear? And if it wasn't a grock, what were the odd lava bubbles over the lake? Dillon knew lava bubbled up from time to time, though a chill had shaken him despite the ravaging heat of the lake when he had seen those bubbles. Dillon also knew that his instincts had never failed him.

He fixed his gaze on Russ' helibike as he pedaled overhead. The sunlight glinted off a small blue orb in Russ' pocket: the 'victory charm'. So far, it seemed to be bringing them victory. The charm reminded him of his Eye of Armedo, mostly in appearance. Dillon glanced down at his belt buckle, watching the jewel glint just like the charm had.

Reminding him of his duties, Dillon continued on across the plains and cliffs. He had no time to dawdle; he had a job to finish. The star spikes crushed gravel that rubbed against Dillon's hide, allowing for faster movement. Eyeing a scruffle patch through his peripheral vision, Dillon skidded to the left before braking.

As he picked at more scruffles, his mind began to wander again, back to his childhood days. Back to fuzzy images of a badger and a raccoon, both bullying Russ. He wondered what might have become of them. He thought back to that day when he had first met Russ, then that day when he had first realized he wanted to be a ranger.

He had been tracking two bandits, whose names slipped his mind. They had robbed several banks near his hometown. Under the alias The Red Flash, Dillon had set out to defeat them. Though different than fighting grocks, that was how Dillon earned his fame as a "ranger."

Dillon shook himself. Even if the work was grueling, he had to stay focused, otherwise the raid would begin before he knew it. With that in mind, Dillon returned to the village.

Don Iguana was glad (somewhat) to see Dillon. After donating his acquired scruffles, he went on to donate the collected ore for the defense gates. Seeing on his map that the West Gate had the least protection both gate and gun-wise, he donated it to the workers that worked on that particular gate. Iguana sighed. "Thank you, Dillon. I worry no one will be able to escape from the village, though.

"Oh, Dillon...a note was sent here by a messenger of Professor Packa. I asked her of the lava lake and its relation to the grock raids. You and Russ were worried about that last night, weren't you? On the bright side, she said the lake was nothing to be feared. Perhaps we really do have a chance of surviving the raids. Thank you, Dillon."

Errands finished, Dillon headed onward. He had already armed as many towers as he could with Long cannons, some instead with Gatling guns. The single winding path straight from the lava lake to the village still worried Dillon, despite what Professor Packa had said about nothing suspicious having to do with the lava lake. As a result, instinct told him to use lots of Long cannons.

The ranger finished just as the skies began to take on a crimson tinge. His radio buzzed in his holster. "Dillon, get ready! The last raid is starting!" yells Russ over the line.

Knowing every precious moment counted in a raid, Dillon fell back towards the village, waiting for the the sky to turn a full-blown shade of red. He barely scraped the presidio grounds as the sky went blood-red, deeper than the color of his own hide. "Let's finish this! Once and for all, pardner!"

(Will continue editing later.)