Bulma scrambled around a corner.
The sewer had turned into junctions. It was a labyrinth.
She slid behind a massive pump, pressing her back against the metal.
Grizzlo wasn't running anymore.
He was stalking.
He walked slowly through the maze.
He swiped a massive claw along the wall, creating a shower of sparks and a screeching sound that made Bulma wince.
"You know, little lady..."
Grizzlo's voice reverberated through the pipes, calm and conversational, which made it infinitely worse.
"I wasn't always a beast. I wasn't always... this."
He paused at a junction, sniffing the air.
He turned left.
"Back in the day, I was just a guy. A shift manager at a canning plant in Kebaba city. Minimum wage. Bad back. The kind of guy who gets pushed around in line at the grocery store."
Bulma held her breath, closing her eyes tight.
Go away. Go away.
"But then I heard about this stuff. Animorphaline. They said it unlocked primal potential. Said it would make you strong enough to lift a forklift."
He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound.
"So I took it. One little vial. And boy, did it work. I grew a foot in a week. Hair started coming in thick. Muscles felt like steel cables."
Grizzlo stopped just a few feet from the pump where Bulma was hiding.
He ran a hand over a pressure gauge, crushing it like an aluminum can.
"But society? They don't like it when the little guy gets big teeth. The factory fired me. My landlord evicted me. Even my dog ran away. I was a monster. A freak."
He resumed walking, his shadow stretching long over Bulma's hiding spot.
"But not here. Not with the scrappers. Yamcha... he didn't see a monster. He saw a heavy lifter. He saw talent."
Grizzlo stopped.
Silence hung heavy in the air for three agonizing seconds.
"He gave me a job when nobody else would. So you see, missy... I can't let you mess up his operation. It's about loyalty."
"That's why." Grizzlo growled, his muscles bunching up as he prepared to strike,
"I can't let you LEAVE!"
With a roar, he lunged around the side of the pump, his massive fist descending like a pile driver into the shadows.
CRUNCH.
Metal twisted and concrete cracked under the blow. Water sprayed violently into the air.
But there was no scream.
No crunch of bone.
Grizzlo slowly lifted his fist.
Floating in the dented remains of the water, bobbing innocently on the ripples, was not a girl.
It was a small, waterproof black cube with a blinking blue light.
A speaker.
"What the hell is this?" Grizzlo grumbled, poking the device with a sharp claw.
"It's a tragic origin story, Grizzlo." Bulma's voice suddenly echoed through the corridor.
"Really. I almost felt bad for you."
Grizzlo spun around.
The voice had come from behind him.
He took a step back, his ears twitching.
"But blindly following a desert warlord because he gave you a job? That's not loyalty. That's desperation."
This time, the voice came from the left.
"Where are you?!" Grizzlo roared, swiping at the air.
"Stop hiding!"
"I'm not hiding." Bulma's voice replied, now bouncing off the ceiling, creating a disorienting, acoustic hall of mirrors effect.
"I'm just everywhere."
The blue light on the cube pulsed once.
Then twice.
A wall of electronic sound detonated through the sewers.
Heavy bass slammed into the concrete, the kind that rattled teeth and turned the narrow tunnel into a vibrating chamber.
Synths screamed and warped, impossible to ignore.
The water at Grizzlo's feet began to shudder, ripples breaking into frantic patterns.
Grizzlo winced, clutching one ear.
"What—?!"
The music surged louder, flooding every corner, bouncing off the curved walls until there was no clear direction, no silence to hide in.
The lights overhead flickered in time with the beat.
Grizzlo clutched the side of his head.
His enhanced hearing, usually his greatest tracking tool, was now a liability.
Every second was like a needle in his eardrums.
He looked down the dark tunnel and saw another blue light blinking in the distance.
Then another to his right.
A whole network of mini-speakers.
She knows my hearing is too sensitive.
The electronic beat kept pounding, bass reverberating through the tunnel.
"You've got a lot of anger, Grizzlo. But working for a bandit group? That's just giving up."
Grizzlo halted.
His breath came out in thick clouds in the cold air.
"Giving up? Listen to you. You sound just like the HR lady who fired me."
He reached up and crushed the speaker in his fist.
The music didn't stop.
It rerouted, surging from somewhere else, louder, closer.
"See, that's the problem with you corporate types." Grizzlo growled, stalking forward as the beat followed him, his voice heavy with a life lived hard long before he became a bear.
"You think life's a multiple choice test. Don't like Option A? Just pick Option B. But down here in the dirt? We don't get a menu, we get what's on the plate. And most days it's scraps."
"That doesn't justify hurting people—" another speaker crackled to life on his left, Bulma's voice slipping between the beats.
"Don't interrupt your elders!" Grizzlo roared, ripping it off the wall and hurling it into the water.
The music finally cut.
Silence slammed down just as hard as the bass had.
Grizzlo leaned against a damp pillar, wiping sweat from his brow.
"You grew up with soft sheets and warm meals, you never had to choose between paying rent or buying dog food. You don't know what it takes to survive when the world decides you're obsolete."
He cracked his knuckles, the sound snapping through the quiet like gunfire.
"So keep playing DJ. Keep hiding behind your toys. But every second you make me chase you… The lesson gets harder. And trust me, kid, i'm a strict teacher."
"I'm right here," Bulma said as she stepped out from the shadows.
She just stood there, arms crossed, looking at him.
Grizzlo turned slowly.
He looked her up and down, then let out a dry, barking laugh.
"Well, look at that, you got a lot of confidence for someone who was trembling behind a water pump two minutes ago. What is it this time? A laser pointer? A giant magnet?"
He took a step closer, towering over her.
"I was listening to you, the Animorphaline. It's a mutagenic compound. It rewrites the genetic code, but it leaves behind unstable markers."
She looked at his massive, fur-covered arms not fearful, but analytical and surprisingly sad.
"I'm sorry, Grizzlo. Truly. Nobody should have their humanity stripped away by a street drug."
Grizzlo stopped.
The snarl faded from his lips, replaced by a confused expression
"When I get my resources. I can synthesize a retro-viral agent. I can reverse the mutation. I can cure you."
Grizzlo stared at her.
For a second, the brute force vanished.
His shoulders slumped just a fraction of an inch.
He looked down at his massive clawed paws, hands that could crush steel, yet could no longer hold anything delicate.
"A cure..." He whispered.
The word tasted strange in his mouth.
"You could be human again, you could go home."
Grizzlo closed his eyes.
He took a deep, shuddering breath.
Then, he opened them, and the hardness returned.
"Go back? Go back to what? To being a forty year old with a slipped disc and a mountain of debt? Go back to people looking through me like I was part of the wallpaper?"
He straightened up to his full, terrifying height, baring his teeth in a smile that was equal parts pride and tragedy.
"You don't get it, rich girl. I don't want to be cured. When I was human, I was nothing. As a monster? I'm strong. People respect me. People fear me. I'm happy this way. So keep your pity and your cure to yourself."
He clenched his fist.
"Enough talk."
He took a heavy step forward, his shadow swallowing her whole.
He ignored the black cube sitting on the crate next to her shoulder.
He assumed it was just another speaker.
He was wrong.
CLICK.
SPROING!
The lid of the box burst open.
A bright red boxing glove rocketed out, driven by a taut titanium spring.
KA-POW!
The glove connected squarely with the underside of Grizzlo's jaw with the force of a wrecking ball.
The impact lifted the massive bear off his feet for a split second, sending him stumbling backward.
He crashed into the tunnel wall, shaking his head as stars danced in his vision.
Grizzlo mumbled, reaching up to rub his throbbing chin. He worked his jaw side to side, checking for loose teeth.
"Please excuse the childish design, i built the prototype when I was six years old. I hadn't quite developed my sense of minimalism yet, but the spring compression is still top tier."
Grizzlo stopped rubbing his chin. He started to chuckle a menacing sound that bubbled up from his chest until it turned into a full-blown, terrifying laugh.
"Six years old, huh? A prodigy."
He peeled himself off the wall, revealing beastly, bloodshot eyes.
"You're real handy with those fingers, kid." Grizzlo said, cracking his knuckles one by one.
"So here's the new plan. I'm gonna rip both your arms out of their sockets. That way, you never build another annoying little toy."
Bulma turned and sprinted, her boots skidding on the wet floor, but the frantic energy of a terrified victim was gone.
She moved with purpose, leading him down a steep, rusted metal ramp that spiraled deeper into the underbelly of the sewer system.
She reached the bottom and stopped.
A heavy, rusted floodgate blocked the path.
Dead end.
Grizzlo thundered down the ramp behind her, slowing to a walk as he reached the bottom.
He spread his arms wide, blocking the only exit.
"End of the line, kid. No more tricks."
He took a step forward, looming over her.
"I'm going to peel you apart until I find out exactly what you and your little friend are planning in my city. And when I'm done, i'll toss whatever is left of you to the vultures outside."
Bulma turned around to face him, her expression was completely flat.
Grizzlo was confused by her lack of fear.
He crouched, preparing to lunge and end it.
CLANG.
A heavy steel pipe connected with the back of Grizzlo's skull with a sickening, bone-jarring crack.
"Surprise motherfucker!"
Grizzlo's eyes rolled back.
His knees buckled, and the massive bear crashed face first onto the concrete.
He groaned, fighting to stay conscious.
Through his blurry vision, he saw a pair of combat boots step next to his head.
He looked up and saw Launch, panting heavily, gripping a bent piece of piping.
She... didn't run? Why didn't she run?
Bulma walked over and stood beside Launch, looking down at the fallen giant.
"You thought the speakers were just to annoy you?" Bulma asked, she tapped a small, discreet communicator in her ear.
"When we split up, I gave Launch an earpiece. The music wasn't just a distraction, it let me talk to her without you hearing a thing."
Grizzlo planted his massive palms on the ground, muscles bunching as he prepared to spring up and tear them both apart.
"I'm gonna kill—"
POOF
Bulma raised the pink polymer rifle that had just appeared after she pressed capsule number 14.
"Sit down."
THWUMP.
She fired point-blank.
A massive glob of the pink expanding foam hit Grizzlo square in the chest and exploded outward, pinning his arms and torso to the floor instantly.
The chemical hardened in seconds, turning the massive bear into a statue, leaving only his head free to roar in frustration.
Launch dropped the bent steel pipe onto the wet concrete. She walked over to the immobilized mountain of fur, squatting down just out of biting range.
Launch smirked, poking Grizzlo's wet nose with her index finger.
"So... must be un-bear-able, getting taken down by two girls, isn't it?"
SNAP.
Grizzlo's jaws clamped shut with the force of a bear trap, missing her finger by a fraction of an inch.
"You get back here!" Grizzlo roared, straining against the pink resin that encased his body like a cocoon.
"I'll grind your bones to dust! You hear me?! Dust!"
Bulma shone her flashlight upward, illuminating a rusted iron ladder bolted to the wall, leading up to a sliver of daylight.
"There. That's our exit."
Launch stood up, dusting off her hands.
Launch gave Grizzlo a mocking two-finger salute.
"Byebye, Teddy."
"I'M GOING TO WEAR YOUR SKULLS AS NECKLACES!" Grizzlo screamed, his voice vibrating the water around him.
Bulma began to climb the ladder, ignoring the threats below.
She paused halfway up, looking down at the raging beast one last time.
"Think about what I said. About the cure. Being a monster is a choice you keep making."
She didn't wait for an answer.
She pushed the grate open, blinding sunlight flooding the shaft, and climbed out into the dusty streets of the scrappers territory, with Launch following close behind.
The furious roars of the bear faded into the darkness below them.