Chapter Text
The dense fog of early dawn clung to the mountainside, shrouding the crumbling hideout of what had once been the Toppat Clan’s most powerful faction. Reginald Copperbottom stood at the edge of a jagged cliff. His once-pristine suit was now torn and muddied.
The Toppat Clan was no longer his.
Months had passed since his betrayal at the hands of former allies, orchestrated by none other than Henry Stickmin. Reginald’s face twisted in anger as he remembered the smug look on Henry’s face as he walked away with the leadership of the clan. Betrayed, humiliated, and left for dead, Reginald barely survived the ensuing chaos. Now, the clan was fractured, its legacy in tatters, and Reginald’s name had become a cautionary tale whispered among the ranks.
But Reginald wasn’t done yet.
He turned from the cliff and began his descent toward a secluded cave. Inside, a flickering console illuminated the darkness, displaying scattered intel he had managed to piece together over the last few weeks. Strange disappearances of Toppat members. Entire hideouts were raided with surgical precision. This wasn’t the work of law enforcement; it was something more calculated, more personal. Someone—or something—was hunting the Toppats, erasing their existence piece by piece.
Reginald’s musings were interrupted by a faint scuffling sound behind him. His instincts kicked in, and he unholstered his gun.
“Show yourself!” he barked, his voice echoing through the cave.
A figure stepped into the light—a lanky man with disheveled hair and a nervous smile. Charles Calvin, an Airship Division pilot.
“What are you doing here?”
Charles raised his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, I’m not here to arrest you. I heard some... unsettling rumors. Thought I’d come see if they were true.”
Reginald lowered his weapon slightly but kept his guard up. “And what rumors would those be?”
“That someone’s wiping out the Toppats. Entire squads, gone without a trace. No survivors. No witnesses.” Charles hesitated. “I don’t like the Toppats, but... this feels different. Like someone’s trying to erase them completely.”
Reginald’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you care? You’ve been hunting us for years.”
“Because this isn’t just about you,” Charles replied. “If someone’s taking out the Toppats, what’s stopping them from coming after the rest of us?”
Reginald studied Charles carefully. He had no reason to trust the man, but his words echoed his suspicions.
“I need answers,” Reginald finally said, stepping closer to the console. “And if you’re here to help, then you’ll follow my lead. Understand?”
Charles smirked. “You’re the boss—for now.”
Reginald turned back to the console, his fingers deftly typing commands into the keypad. A map of recent Toppat activity flickered to life on the screen, with red markers indicating the raids' locations.
“These are the last known locations of the factions that were hit,” he explained. “The pattern suggests someone is systematically dismantling the organization. Whoever’s doing this knows the clan’s operations better than anyone.”
“You think it’s an inside job?”
Reginald shook his head. “Not likely. The betrayals fractured the clan too much for that level of coordination. This is external... but it’s personal.”
“Personal?” Charles echoed. “You think it’s one of your old enemies?”
“Perhaps,” Reginald admitted. “But even my worst enemies wouldn’t go to these lengths. Whoever it is, they have resources, information, and a grudge. And they’re eliminating everyone connected to the Toppats—including those who’ve defected.”
“That explains why some of my contacts have gone quiet. This isn’t just a vendetta—it’s a purge.”
The sound of footsteps outside the cave snapped them both to attention. Reginald motioned for silence, his hand tightening around his weapon as Charles mirrored the motion. Shadows danced along the cave walls as the intruder approached.
A silhouette appeared at the cave’s entrance, moving cautiously. The crunch of gravel beneath their boots was the only sound cutting through the tense silence. Reginald tightened his grip on his weapon, ready to fire at a moment’s notice. Charles, however, squinted toward the figure before his eyes widened in recognition.
“Wait, wait! Don’t shoot!” Charles hissed.
Reginald barely restrained himself, but he held his fire as the figure finally stepped into the dim glow of the console’s screen. A woman with short, fiery red hair and a determined expression strode forward, her sharp gaze scanning the scene before landing on Charles.
“Ellie?” Charles blinked.
Ellie Rose crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed. “I should’ve known you’d run off on your own. You’re terrible at covering your tracks.”
“Hey, I was being careful—”
She shot him a look. “You left the plane unlocked.”
Reginald exhaled sharply, lowering his weapon. “Wonderful. Now there are two of you.”
“Reginald Copperbottom. Didn’t think I’d find you out here licking your wounds.”
Reginald scoffed, crossing his arms. “I’m doing a bit more than licking wounds.”
Ellie glanced at the console, her eyes narrowing as she took in the map's red markers. Her expression darkened. “So it’s true. Someone’s taking out the Toppats.”
Charles nodded grimly. “It’s a full-on purge. No one’s being left behind.”
“Henry’s missing.”
Silence fell over the cave.
She exhaled sharply, frustration flickering in her gaze. “I thought he was laying low, but he hasn’t made contact in weeks. No signs, no messages, nothing.”
Charles tensed. “You think he’s…?”
“I don’t know,” Ellie admitted. “But if someone’s after the Toppats, and Henry’s got history with them, then he could be a target too.”
Reginald processed this new information, his mind racing. Henry Stickmin—his greatest enemy, the man who had stolen everything from him—was missing. He should have felt satisfaction at the thought, but instead, an unsettling sense of unease settled in his gut.
“If he’s been taken,” Reginald said slowly, “then we need to find out who’s behind this. And why.”
“Looks like we have the same goal.”
Reginald gave a short, humorless laugh. “Oh, this just keeps getting better.”
Charles clapped his hands together. “Alright, so we’re teaming up, then?”
Reginald and Ellie both shot him an unimpressed look.
Charles grinned. “What? You were gonna get there eventually.”