Your Pfp Is So Cool!!

Sharpshooter - Only the Strongest will Survive

Chapter 2

Warnings: Slight mention of blood, profanity, weapons

One thing I notice about Antarctica: There's not much of a day. It's night all the time.

Me and Mayday's families choose to stay in the same block of houses, our apartments right next to each other. We choose the top floor to get a good view.

We're within walking distance of the ray shield. When we look out from the windows of our apartments, we can see it, the light from the moon shining on it, otherwise unnoticeable to the naked eye. Soldiers guard it. That'll make it hard to explore the terrain outside.

I notice that the apartments that we stay in are less well-furnished than the ones in the central area. And a lot less well taken care of. But, considering that I lived in a bunch of tents stitched together in one tangled mess, I can't really complain. Better to have a stable roof over my head than one that threatens to fall with every movement I make.

At least it's convenient to hangout with Mayday. His family's apartment is just a few steps away from my family's. 

After my family and I finish setting down our things, I immediately head over to Mayday's apartment. I only see his brothers and his parents there. I don't get to see Mayday's brothers very often, but I know there's five of them and they're all older than him. It must be hard to have 6 mouths to feed at home. It's already hard enough to feed one kid in my family. That one kid's me.

When Mayday's parents see me walking in, they tell me that Mayday's out, and I immediately go to look for him without saying anything, leaving the door open behind me.

The city is bright. Corners of buildings are illuminated by lights. The markings on the road are lighted up. A stark contrast to outside the ray shield. Outside's dark. 

Downstairs is crowded. Adults push past each other as they try to make their way towards the central area. Probably to get jobs. I catch sight of my parents amidst the crowd, but I make no move to alert them of my presence. 

One adult runs into me and the force knocks me to the ground. I can feel the rough black dirt-like substance that covers the ground scraping my knees.

"Watch it!" the adult shouts before running off, and I glare at him.  I get up and dust myself off, blood oozing out of the scrapes, and I wipe it away with my saliva because that's what I always do.

Why would they make the ground out of this substance? It's so easy for someone to injure themselves like this.

I keep a lookout for Mayday. And if I know him, he's probably in a place where no one would bother him. He likes the quiet. Back in the Dome, we used to hangout at the places close to the ray shield. No one goes there unless they want to experience the full-blown heat of outside.

I head into alleyways that are close to the ray shield, hoping to find Mayday there. I gave him my knife after our last scavenging trip, he usually cleans it for me. Maybe I'll hear the sounds of him scraping the blood off my knife. I don't know. My hearing's fairly decent.

Maybe Mayday's gone home. That's unlikely though. He doesn't usually do that until it's really late out.

And as expected, I soon hear the sound of rock scraping against metal. I follow the direction of the sound, and soon enough, I find Mayday leaning against a wall in a dark alleyway scraping blood off my knife and sharpening it. He doesn't need to look up before he knows I'm here. He can tell by the sound of my footsteps.

I lean against the wall next to him as I watch him scrape the blood off my knife.

"How long?" I ask. He knows I'm referring to how long he's been cleaning my knife.

"An hour," he replies, not looking up at me. 

"You know you don't have to do it for that long, 10 minutes is enough to get the blood off," I say, looking up at him. 

"And 1 hour's enough to get it completely off and sharpened," he says, handing me back the knife. It's even sharper than the day I found it. I turn it around in my hands, and then spin it, throwing it up in the air and catching it by the hilt. Then I sheath it into one of those metal sheaths for knives that I found on a scavenging trip not too long ago. 

Mayday smiles slightly when he sees me throwing my knife up in the air and catching it. He's seen me improve over the years. How I've accidentally cut myself a bunch of times trying to do that. Now I can do it almost flawlessly. 

I kind of want to hug Mayday for spending a whole hour sharpening my knife, but I know he doesn't really like physical contact, so instead I just give him a downwards nod of respect.

"You wanna go to the ray shield and scout ways to get out?" I ask. Mayday nods in response, and we run silently through the alley and emerge on the other side. 

We're still some distance from the ray shield, but the rest is open ground. We back up against the walls of the alleyway, taking care not to make a sound so that the soldiers guarding the ray shield won't notice us.

3 soldiers stationed from where I can see. One's sleeping. The other two look tired. Probably from being on duty the whole day. Mayday and I stand there for a while, looking for any disturbances or glitches in the ray shield. 

Nothing. It's stable. Not like the one back in North America. There were holes in the shield. So much easier to sneak out. 

After an hour or so of observing, waiting, for any possible way of getting out, we head back to our apartments for the night. I'm depending on Mayday to know the way back, because I forgot the way when I was looking for him.

Luckily for both of us, he knows the way back. He's got a good memory. 

Pure, unclouded moonlight fills the empty streets as Mayday and I walk through them. I look up. It's a full moon tonight. And somehow, tonight's moon isn't red, it's white instead. It looks so much cleaner. I stop for a moment to look at the moon, and Mayday keeps walking, knowing that I'll definitely catch up.

He's right of course, and after a few moments of analyzing the darker patches on the moon, I run to catch up with him.

"Took you longer than usual," he says, eyes fixated on the road ahead of us.

"Oh y'know, just distracting myself from that thing in the morning," I reply, not wanting to specify what "that thing" in case anyone's watching us, no matter how unlikely it may be.

Mayday nods, taking the hint. We'll discuss it tomorrow when we're amongst the crowd. We could try to look for some jobs tomorrow, just to earn some extra income, although we probably won't be able to get any, considering we're home-schooled, our parents passing them whatever limited information they managed to learn from our grandparents. 

When we reach back to our apartments, I give him a downwards nod before heading through the door. I don't get questioned by my parents where I was, they already know I was at the ray shield looking for ways to get through. That's what I did back in North America. That's how I met Mayday, actually. He mistook my footsteps for a guard's, and literally threw a knife at my head. Good thing my reflexes were fast and I managed to dodge though. The knife only sliced my shoulder.

When he found out he threw a knife at a 13 year old girl, he wordlessly went out to the flooded ruins and tried find something to wrap up my bleeding shoulder. Obviously, I came along with him, and we managed to find a mostly intact Hunger Games hoodie, he cut off the hood to wrap my shoulder. 

"Do you come out here very often?" I asked him, and he was a bit hesitant to reply. "Yeah. Every day."

Then we didn't speak for the rest of the day, just scavenging for things that we could use or sell for money. 

From then, we went out every day to the flooded ruins, and he slowly warmed up to me, speaking a bit more and cracking a few jokes here and there. We're a good team. Mayday's good with directions, and he taught me how to throw knives and use one in close combat. I'm the one who could had slightly heightened senses, slightly better than his. My hearing, eyesight, and sometimes smell. I could smell explosives in some of the flooded houses. That's when I knew not to go in them. 

Then when I found a blaster pistol and trained myself with it, I taught Mayday how to shoot it. The one piece of information that my parents passed down onto me was how to shoot a rifle and pistol. Line up the front sight with the back sight, and then aim at the target and shoot. I've gotten quite decent at it, although Mayday's still better at knives. He beat a fish to death with the blaster once.

I lay on the floor, the bed reserved for my sleeping parents. I stare up at the ceiling for a bit, before opening the window to get some fresh air and staring up at the moon again. It's gotten a bit red, like things are getting back to normal. 

I look across at the ray shield and down at the soldiers guarding it. A few of them are sleeping, but still standing up. I don't notice much, until the moonlight hits just the right spot, I see a small hole in the ray shield. Not big enough for adults to fit through, but definitely big enough for me. I don't know about Mayday. Maybe he can get through with a few burns.

I'll tell him that in the morning.

For now, I close the window and lay back down on the floor, closing my eyes and trying to get some sleep.

The uneasy feeling in my gut still hasn't gone away.

hi guys imma start posting fics n original stories on tumblr

so i have a star wars x ninjago crossover, a bad batch fic, a pacific rim x star wars x ninjago fic, 2 unfinished original stories so yea

Into The Dark is an original story that I came up with and is currently ongoing

its a some dystopian stuff that I abandoned lol

Posting Schedule ig

ill start posting fanfics and short stories like once a week so yay :D

every sunday, 18 00 SGT

i think the clone operative is tech for a few reasons:

the tech turn when he lands the ship

the goofy ahh flopping onto the rocks

callback to one of the episodes where tech falls down a waterfall??

the limping

the frustration with technology and reliance on it

delusion

reasons i think it cant be tech:

crosshair said it didnt work on him cos he was defective so it wouldnt work on tech either cos hes also defective

reasons why its soup clone:

yes

I HAVE BEEN SUMMONED BOYS

TBB fandom is dying

TBB fans rise up we can't let this fandom die its the last best thing that came in Star Wars

THEY DIDNT

THEY CANT JUST

THEY CANT JUST CASUALLY BLOW UP THE MARAUDER

U CANT JUST DO THAT

AND CROSSHAIR CONCERNED DAD AND SAYING OMEGA’S NAME

AND OMEGA TRUSTING CROSSHAIR TO TRACK THE SHIP BUT HE COULDNT 😭😭😭

AND THE ASSASSIN SAYING “DOMICILE” CONFIRMS ITS TECH

TODAYS EPISODES HAVE DESTROYED MY SANITY

Our Own Choices

Chapter 13

When we reach back to the Anaxes base, I go to the medbay and get my hand fixed up. Medical droid replaces the shattered bone inside with metal and my hand's good as new. Echo's doing good as well. He's recovering from what damage he took on Skako Minor. 

So Echo has a plan about getting onto a Separatist Dreadnought and into Trench's comm vault so that he can feed Trench strategies that we already know and let the Republic retake Anaxes. I've been hanging out with the batch for a while, and I actually feel like I fit in with them. I don't get weird looks for being different.

Tech's fixing the ship while I show Hunter and Wrecker how I manage to fit 20 knives into my wrist compartment. Wrecker looks shocked, Hunter raises an eyebrow, looking slightly impressed. Then I see Tech trying to get a piece of metal loose from the engine, and I throw a knife at it, hitting the piece of metal with the hilt of the knife, and the metal piece falls to the ground, along with my knife. I head over to pick up my knife and receive a "That was unnecessary" from Tech. I smirk as I throw my knife up in the air and catch it.

Echo, Rex and General Skywalker come over just as Tech finishes the repairs.

"Tech, is everything ready?" Hunter asks.

"Yep Sarge, we are ready," Tech replies. "Still not sure how we are gonna land on that ship."

"Don't worry, Echo says he's got a plan," Rex says, putting a hand on Tech's shoulder.

"That makes me feel so much better," Tech replies, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"What do you mean by that?" Rex and I ask at the same time, slightly annoyed.

"To be blunt, his mind belonged to the Separatists until we unplugged him. We don't really know where his loyalties lie."

Good point.

"Yea. Well I know. Now get moving," Rex orders.

We walk up the ship, and I'm standing next to Crosshair and Hunter, Tech's piloting, and Wrecker's slightly restless.

"Please tell me we are blowing something up," he says, turning to face us.

"Sorry Wrecker, this is strictly stealth," General Skywalker replies.

I like that word.

Wrecker groans. "I hate that word."

Oh cmon Wrecker I thought we were getting along here

"Echo, you're up," General Skywalker says and Echo plugs his mechanical arm into the scomp link. "As soon as I plug in, I'll send a signal to the command ship."

"What type of signal are you gonna send?" Hunter asks. "Nothing that'll give us away, right?"

"As far as the droids are concerned, we're just gonna be another one of their shuttles coming in for a landing," Echo replies.

"And the regs think we take risks," Hunter says as he and Crosshair give a sideways glance at each other.

We fly for a short while, past some of the Separatist ships stationed above Anaxes.

"Sending the signal...now."

Echo I swear if you give us away I will fucking waterboard you and then carve your eyes out.

"Roger roger, Shuttle TC-159. You may approach and land." A battle droid's voice is heard over throughout the ship.

Wow looks like I don't get to torture Echo today. How sad.

Wait tf is my brain thinking rn stfu brain

Wrecker groans. "I'd still rather blow it up."

"I have a feeling you'll get your chance," Tech says.

Really hope he doesn't.

We fly past the fleet of Separatist ships and up to the Dreadnought, flying under it. The ship turns upside-down, much to my discomfort as I land head-first onto Rex's chest, and we're now on the underside of the Dreadnought.

As I stand up on the ceiling of the ship, rubbing my head, I ask, "Okay so how the fuck are we getting from the damn underside of this thing INTO it?"

The door at the bottom of the ship opens and so does the one in the Dreadnought. The ladder in the floor extends and we climb in.

I ready my pistol and knife, in case there are any clanker patrols nearby. Luckily for us, there aren't any.

I help Echo up and we walk through the corridors cautiously, with General Skywalker leading the front and Crosshair and I guarding our flank, walking backwards, on alert in case any clankers show up.

Echo, Tech , Rex and General Skywalker enter the comm vault, while Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair and I guard the door.

"So uh how's it usually like on missions without us regs?" I ask, not expecting much of a response from Crosshair. 

"Wild," Crosshair says as Hunter walks into the comm vault to check on Echo and the others. I raise an eyebrow at him, although he can't see it from under my helmet.

"Yeah, our last mission was with those Yalbec males, and they tried to eat us after I cut off the queen's stinger," Wrecker says.

"Why? They jealous that you get that Yalbec pussy and they don't?" I ask, smirking slightly.

Wrecker side-eyes Crosshair, and Crosshair replies, "Yea, I guess so."

I grin under my helmet, holding back a laugh, trying to stay focused.

Echo's taking a while, and some clankers have started to come through the corridor. Crosshair goes to take care of some of them and I follow him.

I take cover at the side of the entrance to the corridor, shooting at the B2 super battle droids with my pistol, throwing my knife at one of them and hitting it in the head. There's about 16 of them, and Crosshair gets more kills than me, which sucks.

Wrecker joins us slightly late, and by then we've almost taken out all of them. As I throw another knife at the last one, I wait to see if there are any more droids before running to go pick up my knives. 

Crosshair, Wrecker and I lead the way through the corridors, shooting droids the moment we see them, littering the corridors with bodies of broken battle droids.

Wrecker runs ahead, and when he turns the corner, some battle droids start firing at him, and he takes cover around the corner. Crosshair and I start shooting at the droids in front of us, Rex behind us doing the same, and Hunter and Tech are taking care of the remaining droids at the back.

Then, Wrecker goes to absolutely destroy the battle droids with his bare hands, and I kinda feel bad for them as I look left and right, scanning the area for more droids as I hear the terrified screams of the battle droids and the crashing of metal against the walls.

"It's all clear!" I hear him shout, and we move out from the corner, Rex half-carrying Echo.

No time to ask what happened to Echo, if Rex is carrying him, he shouldn't be dead.

Some more battle droids come from the back, and Tech alerts us to them. "More droids."

"Go. I'll buy you some time," Crosshair says, throwing up a deflector puck in his hands just to look badass, and proceeds to do an epic shot where he just throws it at the battle droid's chest before shooting it in the head, then waiting for the precise moment to fire another shot at the deflector puck which bounces off the ceiling and at all 3 battle droids' heads. 

I just stand there, frozen for a moment before walking off with the others.

"We'll meet you at the infiltration point," Rex tells Crosshair.

Wrecker groans. "He's gonna try and top me. You watch."

"And me," I say in an annoyed tone.

We start half-walking half-running through the corridors, and we reach the infiltration point.

Tech looks through his visor. "I'm picking up dozens of droids on my sensors, all heading this way."

"Hope you're not waiting on me," General Skywalker says as he runs to our position.

Wow I didn't even notice he was gone I think I literally forgot he existed.

"Now all we're missing is Crosshair," Hunter says.

Right on cue, Crosshair comes running through the corridors to our position, throwing deflector pucks literally everywhere, and stops in front of us, turning backwards and aiming his rifle, using his right shoulder to support it.

"You miss me?" 

No.

"How touching."

Then he aims at the deflector puck as the droids come marching through the hallway and he fires.

The blaster bolt deflects off the first puck and then to the second and then to like the next 30, hitting all the droids in the side, and Wrecker and I just stand there gaping at what just became the most badass shot I've ever seen.

"THAT STILL ONLY COUNTS AS ONE!" I protest.

"Relax Wrecker," Hunter says as he nudges Wrecker in the shoulder. "You'll top him next time."

No he won't.

And then Crosshair just comes up to us just to say "No he won't" to Wrecker's face and now I'm trying my best not to laugh again. I'm quite sure Crosshair has the biggest smirk ever under that helmet right now.

Wrecker groans.

We climb down the ladder to get back into the ship and fly off.

"I've got a present for you, Wrecker," General Skywalker hands Wrecker what looks like a detonator with a green button.

"Oh, seriously? I get to blow it up? The whole kriffing thing?" Wrecker sounds excited as he takes the detonator from General Skywalker's hand, and Crosshair and I watch.

"This..." Wrecker wipes a probably happy tear from his eye. "Is the happiest day of my life."

He presses the button and I can hear all the ships behind us going kaboom as we fly back down to Anaxes.

When we land on Anaxes, we get praised by General Windu, and General Kenobi says we've got some medals coming our way.

I take off my helmet.

"Thank you, General," Rex says as he starts to walk off.

As Echo starts to walk away, and batch and I stay behind.

"You coming?" Echo asks.

"Not really our thing," Tech replies.

"Accolades," Crosshair clarifies.

"Yea, we're just in it for the thrill," Wrecker says.

"You sure it's your thing?" Hunter asks, the question directed at both of us.

Echo looks confused. "What do you mean?"

"Your paths are different," Hunter says. "Just like ours." He motions towards the batch. Echo looks down. "If you ever feel like you don't fit in with them, well, find us."

I...don't fit in with the 501st. Or any of the other regs. And I think Rex knows that. Echo knows that. 99 did. And so did...

Don't say his name. Don't say his name.

As the batch turn around and walk up to their ship, I'm standing beside Echo as Rex walks up to us. "Those are some of the finest troopers I've ever fought alongside." He pats Echo on the shoulder. "Echo. You and I go way back. If that's where you feel your place is, then that's where you belong."

I glance at Rex. "Does that apply to me?"

Rex sighs. "Yes, ad'ika. It does." He turns around and walks away. 

He's...he's letting me...what-

I thought he would-

Nevermind. Don't worry about that right now.

Echo and I look at each other before walking slowly up to the batch, and I see Rex turning back to look at us. Echo salutes him, and then I do the same, with the batch following.

"Goodbye, ad'ika," he mouths to me.

"Goodbye, buir," I mouth back. He smiles, and so do I. 

And then Echo, the batch and I turn around and walk into their-well now it's our ship, and we fly off.

On the ship, I sit on the floor, making myself comfortable, spinning my knife, scanning the surroundings of our ship. When I finally see the toilet sign, I sigh in relief.

Thank god.

I go into the toilet to take a piss, until I realize that there's something very wrong.

"GUYS WHY IS THERE ONLY A DAMN URINAL IN HERE WHERE'S THE MOTHERFUCKING TOILET BOWL?!" 

Sharpshooter

Chapter 1

Warnings: None (for now)

My grandparents say that I was born in an unfortunate time. They always tell me about the old world, where we were allowed to go outside and breathe cool, fresh air, without the inconvenience of having to wear a cooling suit just to prevent ourselves from roasting in the heat. I don't believe them. For me, these are all just stories. Stories of a world long gone. 

"8 billion people used to live on Earth, you believe that?" my grandparents always ask, laughing slightly as if they don't believe it themselves. I definitely don't believe that. There's only 700 million people left on this doomed planet.

Some of my friends-wait, I only have one, tells me about how the richer people get transported to Mars while us poorer, starving ones, stay on Earth and wait for our chance to die.

Usually, when my grandparents launch into a full-on rant about the world before, I roll my eyes and slip on sunglasses just to hide the fact that I'll be sleeping for the next hour or so. These stories are meaningless to me. There's no point in clinging on to the past, when I have a family to take care of.

We used to live in Singapore. Sea levels were rising so much that the few transports that remained on Earth brought us to the interior regions of North America, at least the ones that haven't gone underwater yet. That's where I met my good friend, and eventually, scavenging partner, Mayday. He's about a head taller than me, and I'm already considered tall for a girl my age. He's got short black hair. Just like mine. And just like the other 300 million or so kids. Mayday told me that his parents named him that because they're trying to call out to the authorities for help, to bring them to Mars. It hasn't worked for the past 13 years of his life, and I don't think it'll work anytime soon.

Me and Mayday's families are quite close as well. We usually share whatever little food Mayday and I scavenged that day with each other, to ensure that we don't starve to death. 

On one of our scavenging trips, I find a knife and a blaster pistol. The knife's a bit blunt, but it's sharp enough to stab through dead fish or whatever I find in the ruins of the houses that are flooded to my waist. 

Everyone knows the stories of what happens to houses that get flooded. They get abandoned, and whatever wildlife that has managed to adapt to the temperatures tears them up, sometimes leaving nothing behind. 

After spending about a few months in North America, even with the cooling suits on, the air temperature has become too high. Mayday and I can only spend an hour, maximum, outside scavenging before we start to get burns and it gets hard to breathe.

The air conditioning in the "houses" that the authorities give us barely works. I can't even call those things that we live in houses. They're more of a group of tents sewed together and protected by a ray shield, which is the reason why we call the place we live in the Dome. It provides air conditioning, at least, for a few hours a day. The rest of the time, we rely on that limited cooling cream that Mayday and I scavenge to prevent ourselves from roasting to death.

We've been living like this for a few months now. None of us are getting used to it. We have one small screen in the only small area where tents aren't clumped together to watch the news. Usually, the one that stands in front of the small screen shouts the news out to everyone else crowding around.

Today, I squeeze my way through the crowd, it's easy because of my small size, and I make my way towards the screen, getting a good view. There, I see face of the man that always appears on the news when something important is going on, but I never remember his name because I have more important things to focus on.

The image of a globe projects onto the screen, and the man on the television turns the hologram of the globe until it shows a brown landmass.

"Antarctica," the man says. "We will be moving all inhabitants on Earth here. The temperatures here are lower than the ones around the world, so..."

I slip away from the screen and back into the crowd. I hear the people near the screen shouting what the man on the screen just said, and people are muttering excitedly, some cheering. I hate it when this happens. So much noise. I run away, pushing past people, back to my house where I tell them the news.

"The authorities say they're moving us to Antarctica," I say the moment I run into the tent, my breathing slightly heavy from the running. Mayday's in the tent as well, rubbing the ankle that he sprained on yesterday's scavenging trip. My family and Mayday all look up at me, before my family starts to cheer and Mayday remains silent.

I sit down next to him. "How's your ankle?"

"Could be better," he replies, and I definitely know something's wrong. He'd usually crack a joke or something.

"Nervous about going to Antarctica?"

Mayday nods, and I pat him on the shoulder. "That means new territory to scavenge stuff, which means there's definitely some fresh loot there."

Mayday looks up at me. "Antarctica's a barren desert. There's nothing there to scavenge."

"We'll find something," I try to sound confident, but after the stories I've heard of Antarctica, there's only a sliver of hope that Mayday and I could scavenge anything there. Antarctica's also full of wild animals. The ones that managed to get to Antarctica, at least. They're the real danger out there.

The next few days, transports descend from the sky and bring people to Antarctica in a matter of minutes. I'm guessing the transports are from Mars. The advanced technology there lets them travel fast. Really fast.

My family and Mayday's board the last transports after packing everything up. There's not much to pack, besides some of the old ration bars I found a few days ago and those gummies that hydrate us. Authorities give us about three of those per person every month, so we have to ration them. Can't forget about the cooling cream either.

When we enter the transport, we're greeted with a blast of cold air. Is this what Antarctica feels like? I'm shivering slightly from the cold, and it looks like everyone else is too. We're not used to this kind of temperature.

It's really cramped in here. I count about a hundred families with us. I hear murmurings going on in the crowd, and I'm pushed right next to Mayday.

We stand there in awkward silence, and I start sweating, somehow. It's not because of the temperature. Large crowds just make me nervous, and Mayday knows that. He puts a hand on my shoulder reassuringly, and I give him a small nod.

Thankfully, we aren't in the transport for long. In a matter of minutes, the doors open and everyone rushes out. My family and Mayday's are the last to walk out, with a lot of hesitation. 

The air is fresh. Cooling. Devoid of that burning smell of the ground. I scan the surroundings, and so does Mayday. Rugged terrain, with gorges that go so deep that if anyone fell in from above they would definitely die. The sky is navy blue. Clear. Cloudless. Not like the smoke-filled skies of North America.

We stand on a platform that descends into a deep gorge, where I see buildings. Not tents clustered together, actual buildings. They're inside a ray shield, just like the Dome, and I can only guess that it's not to protect us from the heat, but from the wildlife.

After we enter through a hole in the ray shield, it closes up behind us and we are, once again, in a crowd of people. There's a big screen, which everyone is looking at, and it's projecting the image of another man, who's dressed in what my grandparents would call a suit, even though I could not possibly imagine why someone would want to wear such a suffocating piece of clothing.

"You are safe here now, in Antarctica," the man says, and I start hearing people talking again. The man waits until everyone is silent before continuing. "No one goes in or out of the ray shield unless given specific permission to do so."

Mayday and I glance at each other with a knowing look.

"Enjoy your stay here, and good luck."

Good luck? What does he mean by good luck? 

As the crowd disperses and authorities lead others to their respective buildings, I turn to Mayday, and he turns to me.

"I've got a bad feeling about this."

THE CALLBACK TO THE FIRST LINE THEY EVER SAID WHEN THEY APPEARED IN TCW

IS SOMETHING GONNA HAPPEN???? IS ONE OF THEM GONNA DIE??? ARE THEY ALL GONNA BE REUNITED (i mean tech) AND TBB THEME WILL PLAY AGAIN???????