Clearlake was quiet, too quiet for a city that almost got wiped out by a meteor and a tsunami last week. Satoshi sat on the curb in front of the grape lab, his arms crossed, his head down. His skin still green, his body still heavy, his eyes flashing violet whenever he blinked. Dylan leaned on the wall beside him, cigarette dangling out of his mouth, smoke curling up into the air.
"You can't just sit here like you normally do," Dylan said, ashes scattering. "People believe you're a superhero, man. Or a demon. Whichever gets in line first."
"I ain't no Demon." Satoshi's reply was a growl. "I'm just… stuck like this."
Dylan snorted. "Yeah, stuck with earthquake clappin' cheeks, hurricane sneezes, and fart tsunamis. Real sad."
Grape Man did not smile. He just stared at the street. Kids rode by on bicycles, stopped, pointed, then pedaled away scared. The clerk at the grocery store across the street cowered behind the counter when he saw him. Everywhere was the same. People were thankful but did not trust him. Not completely.
Night fell, and that is when the silk came back.
Threads between rooftops. Web murals stretched across billboards, painted on walls in gleaming patterns. Spiders that were not spiders scurried across the silk, tiny machines with red eyes.
Dylan lit another cigarette, squinting up. "Ain't no graffiti I ever saw look like that, its glowing."
Satoshi stood up. Once more, he sensed the hum in the air, as though the city was inhaling differently. Something moved on the rooftop. A tall figure, darkness swirling around his shape, luminous spider-like eyes watching from above.
"Who are you?" Satoshi shouted, his voice ringing down the block.
The figure didn't answer. He lifted his arm, and a dozen webs shot out. They weren't normal webs — they were like machines, weaving themselves into shapes. Wings, knives, faces, then dissolving back into laser silk.
Finally, the figure spoke, voice low, smooth, like a predator whispering to its prey.
"I am Shade Harvest. You… are unstable. This city, and the world, cannot handle what you are. You must be harvested."
There was no time for Satoshi to reply before the air crackled. Robots dropped from the webs above. They were imposing and armored, covered with chrome that mirrored the streetlights. They each carried strange glowing weapons that hummed like stars.
Dylan stepped back. "Uh… they don't look friendly, bro."
The first robot hefted a cannon and fired. A beam tore through the a whole city block, sidewalk exploding, buildings shaking. Satoshi didn't bat an eye. The blast hit him, enveloped him in light, dust blowing in every direction.
When the dust settled, he was standing unharmed. Eyes glowing. Green aura pulsating around him.
He shattered the ground underfoot, propelled himself forward, and punched. A robot sailed through the air, its body bursting into metal powder that rained down on the block. Another slashed with a knife — he caught it on his pinkie, snapped it, and headbutted the machine until it fell apart.
Shade Harvest didn't move. He merely watched, webs throbbing behind him, orchestrating the fight from the shadows.
Additional robots dropped down. Dozens now. Their arms charging, locking on in unison. Grape Man roared and clapped his hands together, the shockwave blowing them off, some ripping apart in the air from the pressure.
Yet the robots adapted. One opened its chest, launching a miniature sun blast, the light searing across the city. Another unfurled wings, firing solar flares in concentrated beams.
Dylan hid behind a vehicle. "Yeah, nah, I ain't made for this! You deal with that grape juice power, I'ma just… survive, later!"
Satoshi stamped his foot, and the earth cracked with it. Grapevines burst out of the earth, wrapping around robots, crushing their metallic bodies until they exploded. He breathed deeply, then sneezed — the gust ripped through another six, tearing them into pieces.
Shade Harvest finally came down from the rooftop, alighting silently, laser silk flowing off his shoulders like a cloak. He looked Grape Man dead in the eyes.
"You fight like chaos. No control. That is why I have brought them. My Harvesters. More powerful than I. Powerful enough to witness what you are truly capable of."
The other robots lined up, eyes shining, weapons humming louder. Grape Man cracked his knuckles, green aura burning around him like wild fire.
"You want me tested? Fine." He spat a grape seed on the ground, and it sprouted at once, vines wrapping around his fists like gloves. "But you're going to regret it, my seeds can become anythingi imagine, and i mean anything".
The highway quaked as Sour Grape Man charged ahead, robots firing in unison, Shade Harvest weaving his silk through the battlefield, every step measured, every trap had already sprung.
The harvest had begun...
The robots moved like soldiers, but not human soldiers. Their steps didn't clang, didn't crunch gravel, didn't shake ground. They were too clean, too perfect, too finished. Each raised an arm, gleaming cannons pointed in flawless synchrony.
Sour Grape Man faced them and Dylan, pale Green body glowing, grapevines curling around his arms like tattoos. Dylan was muttering a curse behind him, "Whole damn city about to go up in smoke… and you just standin' there like it's freaking Tuesday."
Shade Harvest's voice cut the silence.
"You're not a hero. You're not a god. You're just an accident. And accidents…" His laser silk threads shimmered, wrapping around the robots like puppet strings. "…get destroyed."
The robots fired.
Not bullets. Not beams. Miniature suns. Compressed flares of plasma, screaming through the night. The city lit up like it was daytime.
Sour Grape Man clenched his fists, turned, and… clapped his butt cheeks together.
The shockwave propagated outward, a violet ripple crushing the plasma flares into nothingness, squashing them like tin cans. Light distorted, air vibrated, and windows across the street shattered. Dylan covered his ears with his hands, yelling, "Dude, you just canceled the SUN with your butt, what he hell!"
But Sour Grape Man did not smile. He stared at Shade Harvest.
"You utilize machines to conceal. Why?"
Shade's laser silk shimmered. He stepped closer, slow, calm. "Because my will is stronger than yours. My laser web is more intelligent than your chaos. These machines are extensions of myself, flawless art. You are rot. Decay in green skin. Grape husk masquerading as man."
The words hurt more than the beams.
Grape Man remembered the clerk dropping the bottle of wine. The kids pedaling away in fear. The looks on people's faces as he rode past them. He clenched his teeth. His vines tightened around his fists until they bled purple juice.
One of the robots attacked, blade-arm slashing downward. Grape Man evaded, grabbed it by the throat, and sneezed. The sneeze ran through the robot, shaking every bolt, every screw, until it disintegrated in dust.
A different robot shot a solar beam. Grape Man grabbed Dylan by the collar and farted, the air pressure knocking the beam off course, burning a skyscraper to ashes instead. Dylan coughed in the smoke. "Man, I'ma die smellin' grape farts before I die from a laser."
Shade's eyes glowed brighter. "Your reflexes. unnatural. You are not simply surviving. You are adapting." His silk threads expanded further, creeping across buildings, turning the whole block into a spider's web. "Then we test further."
The other robots changed. Their armor opened, their bodies elongated, each of them sprouting new four arms, silk wings, and glowing red eyes. They were no longer soldiers. They were hunters.
Dylan whispered, "Aw hell. He put DLC on the robots."
Grape Man cracked his knuckles. "Then I put work on 'em."
He charged in, faster than the eye could follow. His fist hit one, imploding it into a crater of sparks. Another jumped with needle-arms, but Grape Man sprouted a shield of grapevines, the needles plunging fruitlessly into the green. He spun, swung, and crushed the machine with the vines.
But Shade was watching. Thinking. Every step Grape Man took was being inscribed in silk vibrations. His webs intersected the city, every contact reporting information to Shade.
"You think you're free," said Shade. "But every step you take, I already know it. My silk is attuned to your weight. My silk feels your breath. You are not resisting me, Sour Grape Man. You are within me."
Grape Man stopped.
The webs glimmered. Buildings around them collapsed into lasers, walls becoming vibrant blue, the whole block falling into Shade's domain. The sky above trembled, stars vanishing, replaced with holographic shining silk constellations.
Dylan gasped. "Bro… he turned the city into his web."
Robots crawled across the new silk city, hundreds of them now, eyes blazing red, wings spread wide. Shade loomed in the middle, cloak of silk flowing like liquid darkness.
"This isn't your Clearlake anymore. This is my Harvest Ground."
Grape Man looked around, fists shaking. His voice rumbled like thunder.
"Then I'm gonna smash it. All of it."
He stomped the ground, and vines shot upward like skyscrapers, tearing through the silk city. Grapes the size of Busses grew and exploded into purple mist, corroding the webs. He grabbed one robot, bit into it like fruit, spat the parts aside, and yelled "GRAAAAAAAPE".
The silk quivered, but Shade kept his calm. He smiled.
"Good. Now I see what you really are."
The robots fell one by one, sparks raining down on the silk city. Each explosion lit up the night like fireworks, but Shade Harvest never moved. He stayed in the middle of the web, cool, calm, strings coursing through every part of the battlefield.
Grape Man tore through another machine, grape vines whipping out, wrapping around its arms and ripping them off. His chest was heaving, his breath coming hard, but his aura still blazed violet. Dylan yelled from the rooftop of a building, "Man, you wreckin' the city worse than the robots!"
Shade raised his hand. All of the other machines stopped. Threads pulled back, retracting, and for the first time, it was just him and Satoshi, face to face.
"You showed your strength," Shade responded, his voice echoing across the world of silk. "But strength is not control. You are a storm without a course. If I don't stop you now, one day you will destroy more than you save."
Satoshi's fists tightened. His voice cracked low. "You think I wanted this? You think I asked to be stuck in a room, burned alive, turned into this?" His aura pulsed harder, vines trembling with rage. "I ain't chaos. I am no rot. I protect. That's all.
Shade stepped closer, silk flowing at his shoulders like wings. "You protect now. But tempests don't choose what they destroy. They consume everything. The people fear you for a reason."
The words hurt more than the robots' gunfire. Grape Man saw the faces again — the clerk letting go of the bottle, the children riding away, the silence of a city that loved him in fear.
Dylan shouted down, "Don't you pay attention to him, bro! He don't know you like me! You saved this entire damn country in three hours, don't you forget? Earthquakes, hurricanes, tsunamis, and many more — you ain't devastate, you saved!"
Satoshi's head bowed. His vines quivered, but this time not in anger — in determination. He looked Shade straight in the eye. "You right. I'm dangerous. But dangerous don't gotta be evil. Dangerous can save too. You reap? I sow."
The silk city buzzed as if Shade himself hesitated. His eyes narrowed, yet his threads hesitated.
Grape Man stamped the earth then. Grapevines erupted everywhere, bursting through the silk foundations, tearing down entire walls of Shade's web. The domain trembled, the sky above tearing open as stars reappeared. Shade leaped back, silk wings unfolding, but Satoshi was faster.
He leaped high, fists glowing violet, grape aura boiling around him like a galaxy. Shade spun thousands of threads at once, forging shields, blades, and spears.
Their collision shook the city.
Vine crashed into silk. Aura crashed into shadow. The impact toppled cars down streets, shattered windows for miles, lit up the skyline like dawn.
It was minutes of nothing but blow upon blow — fists against threads, needles against vines, two forces crashing until the night itself trembled.
Finally, they parted, both panting, both standing on broken ground.
Shade's silk cloak undulated, threads burst. He looked at Satoshi, not with hatred, but recognition. "You… are not what I thought. You are not mindless. But you will always be dangerous."
Grape Man wiped purple juice from his chin, his voice level. "And you'll always be behind webs. But you aren't my enemy. Not if you want to protect too."
The silence drew out.
Then Shade turned, silk receding, wings shutting. "Our fight isn't over. One day, you'll lose control. And when you do… I'll be waiting."
He melted into the darkness, leaving behind only strands drifting in the night air.
Grape Man didn't stir, aura dissipating. Dylan rushed up, coughing in the smoke. "Well… that was somethin'." He clapped Satoshi on the shoulder. "You didn't just fight him. You proved him wrong. Don't forget that.".
Grape Man looked up at the stars, the same stars he once shattered a meteor under. His voice was low, thoughtful.
"I ain't just Sour Grape Man. I'm still Satoshi. And I'm still here."
Somewhere far away, in the quiet edges of Clearlake, Burberry the Blueberry hummed to himself, stacking crates. Mrs. Cherry watched from her window, a sharp smile curling across her lips.
The smoke dissipated, the city still shaking from the battle. Sour Grape Man wiped his grape-juice stained hands clean. Dylan sprinted up, panting.
"Yo, bro, it was like *Vengers* on a ten-fold out here. You out here clappin' earthquakes, sneezin' hurricanes, now you throwin' hands with Spider-Silk Dracula. What's next, huh? You gonna burp away global warming?"
Satoshi side-eyed him. "Maybe."
Dylan slapped his knee laughing, "Oh man, I'd pay to see that—" then immediately tripped on a busted curb and face-planted into the hood of a random car. *HONK!* The airbag popped right into his face, and the car rolled forward.
"Wait—WAIT—BRO, I CAN'T DRIVE!" Dylan shouted as the car jolted down the street. It slammed into a stop sign, bounced off, spun around like a Beyblade, and smashed into a fountain.
BOOM. Water shot up like Old Faithful. Dylan was slumped over the steering wheel, glowing faint yellow like a busted nightlight.
In the rubble, his body seethed with unnatural energy, his eyes convulsing closed. His glow pulsed harder, then grew gentle.
On the other side of the block, Satoshi merely rubbed his temples and muttered, "Man, this city just can't catch a break." He didn't even notice the light pulsing from Dylan's chest, brighter, then fainter, until Dylan lay still, unconscious.
The fountain gurgled. The glow lingered, casting ripples across the water, unnoticed by Sour Grape Man as he stared into the skyline.
Somewhere, Burberry the Blueberry sneezed. Mrs. Cherry giggled in her kitchen.
And the night went quiet.
Clearlake mornings were all the same, gray with a touch of fog, like the whole city was still half asleep. Satoshi was at a little diner across the street from the ruins of the lab. He had a craving for pancakes. Pancakes and nothing more. But whenever the waitress poured syrup on his stack, the syrup would fizz and turn to wine. The table smelled like a vineyard explosion.
"Bruh, you ruined breakfast again," Dylan said, sitting across from him with his arm still bandaged from the accident. He was poking at his eggs as if they had disappointed him. "You the first man alive who needs to have a designated driver just to eat. Imagine having to tell them that at AA."
Satoshi let out a sigh. "I'm attempting, alright. Grapes just… do now." He moved to take the butter, but the handle of the knife started to glow purple and sprouted a vine that curled around his wrist like a snake. The older couple at the adjacent table stared in dismay, whispering to each other.
"See? This is why folks say you're cryptid," Dylan said, smoking a cigarette. "Clearlake Grape Mummy. Juice Demon. Wine Guy."
In the corner of the diner, there were kids with their faces pressed against the glass window. One yelled: "Yo make the sky grape juice!!" and they all laughed.
Satoshi looked away, muttering. He had wished for a peaceful life, but that desire had been crushed by a single purple meteorite.
Satoshi walked around town after breakfast, with Dylan tagging along. The city was starting to change since the meteorite. Mailboxes, streetlights, even fire hydrants had purple stains that wouldn't come off. People were starting to notice.
The mailman was yelling at his mailbag. "I swear it ain't me! These letters keep turning purple! Somebody cursed this town!" He glared at Satoshi like he knew.
Kids trailed again, asking questions, pulling grape leaves off his trench coat. One little boy asked, "Mister, can you juicebox the moon?
They stopped by Burberry's Juice Shop. The door jingled, and Burberry the Blueberry waddled out, a tall man with shiny blue skin and an ever-present grin. "Welcome welcome! Free sample today—strawberry shake with extra *zing!*" His cheerfulness was suspicious, like he was hiding too much energy under the grin.
Mrs. Cherry was on her porch swing across the street, knitting something red. Her voice carried without her apparently trying. "Fruit attracts fruit, Satoshi. But it also attracts flies. Be careful who's watching you."
Dylan snorted. "Lady out here talking like fortune cookie." But when he looked at her, he could have sworn her eyes glowed dark red.
For a moment, Dylan's head reeled. His eyes went yellow, his whole body vibrating. A gentle glow seeped from his skin before he blinked it away. Nobody noticed. Not even Satoshi.
A man in the shadows of one of Clearlake's alleys was watching Dylan. His voice was low, a whisper into the night:
He will come of age soon. Pineapple Man must not fall into Sour Grape's hands. The fortress of soup is waiting for him underground."
The shadow turned, and several sewer grates banged open, billowing steam.
The same week, Dylan chaperoned the local school field trip to the Clearlake Museum of Natural History as the adult representative. He wouldn't go, but the teacher bribed him with gas money and a six-pack, so he rolled up anyway, still limping from the car accident.
"Don't touch anything, don't damage anything," Dylan told him as he lit a cigarette at the museum entrance, ignoring the enormous NO SMOKING sign. Kids sprinted by him, crying about dinosaurs and mummies.
Inside, there was quiet, spookily too quiet. The whole first floor smelled of dusty and lemon-scented cleaner. Dylan followed behind the kids, looking at the skeletons of ancient beasts, yawned. He stood in front of a ginormous fossilized pineapple statue within the "Ancient Foods of the World" exhibit.
For no reason whatsoever, his chest glowed faint yellow again. The fossil seemed to pulsate back at him.
One of the kids pointed. "Mister Dylan, you glowin' like a light bulb."
He didn't get a chance to respond before the museum lights began to flicker. Sirens outside commenced wailing. A piece of ceiling cracked and fell, kids screaming. Dylan stumbled backward as his glow blazed into the whole room in golden light.
The statue disintegrated, powder spilling in every direction, and for a moment Dylan's eyes turned white. His flesh burned, veins lighting up like lightning, and a soft pineapple tiara pulsed around his head like a spectral halo.
He fell to the marble floor silently. Out cold.
The kids screamed harder thinking he was dead. The teachers tried shaking him hard, but his body was warm, emitting as if it were a furnace. Everyone ignored the shadow man in the museum lobby corner, watching everything. His coat was on the floor, soaking wet from sewer water, and his voice was only heard by Dylan's unconscious ears:
Sleep now, Pineapple seed. The soup fortress will harvest you soon. Sour Grape cannot protect what he cannot behold."
The man vanished into the ducts, and there was nothing but the sound of clicking pipes.
Somewhere far away, in another area of town, Satoshi was peacefully watering his backyard garden, oblivious to the turmoil. He whistled to himself, annoyed that his roses kept on turning into grapevines.
Satoshi headed back to his own small backyard, his fingers in the ground, trying to prune his grapevines without turning them into yet another mini-vine disaster. The sun was hot, birds chirping, kids yelling somewhere in the distance. It almost felt like Clearlake could be normal for a second.
Then the grapes started to twitch. Leaves quivered. Vines wrapped themselves around like serpents. The grapes vibrated a pale violet, in rhythm with something Satoshi could not sense.
"What now?" he growled, standing. His boots crunched into the shattered earth as he looked out over the empty street. Cats spat at empty corners. Birds passed overhead, their wings beating in small circles. Even the dogs on the corner were howling in harmony, staring at nothing.
The yellow light from Dylan's museum spilled out onto the street. No one made notice — except Satoshi. He blinked. "That… can't be good."
Meanwhile, a man from the darkness saw Dylan's lifeless form inside the museum. The man's eyes were subtly yellowed, the same as Dylan's aura. He moved stealthily, his pace very much like a breeze curling around a burning flame, carrying aglow vials and strange vessels that softly clinked.
"Later, Pineapple Man…," the shadow man panted, voice low and wily. "You will realize your fate. The fortress beckons… and power needs to be honed, not wasted.".
He zoomed through a ceiling air vent, slipped under the shattered museum skylight, and hoisted Dylan's limp form. The light grew more intense, streaming over the floor tiles as waves on water. Blocks away, Satoshi felt an untamed surge of energy erupt through the city. His vines shook.
"What… what's that?" he shouted around frantically, but the streets were empty. Dylan was gone.
The shadow man vanished into the darkness, drawing Dylan toward the underground castle of soup. Steam hissed from vents as he strode, warm containers nestled under his jacket like precious cargo. The city, happily unaware, went on with its mundane chaos. A hotdog vendor cursed his now-yellow-colored cart. Children laughed at the strange light bouncing off the walls of the museum.
Satoshi's grape aura flared briefly as he sensed the energy. "Something's wrong," he muttered. "Dylan…?" But the trail had disappeared. The only evidence left was the faint yellow glow fading into the distance, like a whisper in the dark.
And deep beneath the city, in tunnels no one had ever so much as glimpsed, the shadow man stepped into his fortress. There were steaming cauldrons of soup simmering, exuding a ghostly, white light, to power weird machinery. He laid Dylan down carefully.
"Time to learn," he said, leaning over him. "Time to show you something Sour Grape cannot… something he'll never get to see."
The castle pulsed with light, a yellow heartbeat, and Dylan's body began to shudder under its might, glowing brighter than anything ever seen.
Clearlake beyond was yet silent, not knowing the first lesson of Pineapple Man.
The fortress smelled of. soup. Hundred different types of soup all simmering together, steam curled and dancing like living things. Vats glowing yellow softly lining the walls of the fortress, pouring shimmering light over every surface. Hushed machinery clanking, stirring the soups for it mechanically, yet something alive in the fortress, something vibrating with energy.
Dylan woke up slowly. His yellow eyes continued to glow, and for a moment he wondered if he was dreaming. Shadow man loomed over him, unmoving and silent, his coat flapping down the steamy floor.
"Where am I?" Dylan groaned, his voice grating from the fall.
"You're here to learn," the shadow man informed him. His tone was level, near to that of a father, but with an unforgiving edge to it. "Sour Grape may defend the world, but safety is weakness without control. Energy without domination is wasted energy. You will not waste yours."
Dylan tried to lift up, but a barely visible jolt of yellow energy forced him back down. Blue sparks danced along his form as the aura burned out of control.
"Relax," the shadow man told him, placing a hand on Dylan's chest. The light subsided slightly, but it hummed like a live wire. "Your body is not harmed. It is waking up.".
"Waking up. into what?!" Dylan roared in a mixture of fright and astonishment. He waved towards his glowing hands. "I. I'm not a fruit, I'm not a superman. I can't even drive a car and almost kill myself on the way here!"
The shadow man smiled quietly. "Pineapple Man. That you shall be. You shall master the glow. Bend it, nudge it, combat with it, control energy like it is. soup." He gestured toward the vats surrounding them. "All this is energy. All this has potential. And you will learn to harvest it. Or perish."
Dylan tensed. "Soup?! You're telling me. I have to cook in order to battle people?!"
The shadow man's smile was hungry-looking, threatening. "No, child. The soup is a conduit. It is life, energy, power itself. You will learn to control it, control yourself. Sour Grape is strong, but he knows not creation. You will.".
For the first time, Dylan felt a shock of. excitement. Or maybe horror. The vats around him glowed in synchrony with his pulse, yellow energy thumping off the ground, off the walls, into his skin.
He tried to lift a hand. A blast of golden light illuminated into the nearest vat, whirling the soup maddeningly, scooping up spoons and mountains of vegetables into the air. Dylan shrieked and staggered backward, hitting a boiling pot of tomato bisque.
The shadow man's voice boomed out, as always unflappable. "Mistakes are the start. Learn to taste the soup, to feel it, to understand it. Only then will you perfect it. Only then will you be Pineapple Man."
Dylan complained, quietly glowing as he wiped tomato from his face. "I… I'm gonna have to practice a lot."
The shadow man nodded. "Good. Then let us begin.".
Outside, Clearlake lay resting, unaware of the advent of a new fruit hero — or villain.
Dylan sat cross-legged on the floor of the fortress, still with a soft yellow glow. The shadow man hovered nearby, arms crossed, watching with studious demeanor that made Dylan fidget.
"Fine," Dylan said, his voice shaking. "So. I'm Pineapple Man now? That's what we're calling it?" He hesitantly explored his glowing hands. "Do I get a cape or something?"
"No capes," the shadow man said flatly. "Caped fruit men are dead first. Focus.".
Dylan groaned. He tried to lift his hands again. A gout of yellow energy burst out, reflecting off the vats, spinning vegetables into the air like a tornado. A tomato hit his forehead. "Ow! This is not controlled!"
The shadow man crouched alongside him, eyes that glowed yellow like the light. "Control is achieved by knowledge. Sense the soup inside you. It is power, it is energy, it is. you. You can't control it until you own it.".
Dylan groaned. He sat up, taking a deep breath, and stared at the glowing vats that filled the room. He imagined them as giant fruit bowls, each one pulsing energy. He carefully reached out a hand to one. A ripple formed. Carrots floated, green beans spun like spaghetti, and a meatball orbited in a tidy circle around his hand.
"Whoa," Dylan breathed. "I… I did it?"
Yes," said the shadow man. "But this is only the beginning. Not only will you be able to manipulate energy — you will be able to create it, to hurl it, to battle with it. You will be stronger than any man. Perhaps even stronger than Sour Grape Man himself."
Dylan's eyes went wide with awe and he blinked. "Wait… stronger than him? Bro, I just turned a tomato into a little bitty flying creature!
The shadow man smiled, thin and white. "Any master starts with one tomato."
Dylan rehearsed for the next hour. He turned soup into a miniature tornado. He shot noodles like strands, mashed potatoes like dull bullets, and inadvertently made a glowing pumpkin roll on the floor. With each mistake, he glowed brighter, with each success, the vats throbbed.
He sneezed once — and a wave of yellow energy knocked over a nearby crate and sent it sailing over a vat of broccoli bisque. Dylan collapsed to the floor, glowing with such intensity that the shadow man shielded his eyes.
"Cautious," warned the shadow man. "Even a sneeze can be a disaster. Or a weapon."
Dylan winced. "This is nuts. I can't even operate a car without nearly being killed, and now I get to fight with soup and glowing hands?"
"Madness is a gift," said the shadow man. "And you will master it. Tomorrow, we will begin combat training."
Dylan rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. Yellow light danced across his features. "Yeah… tomorrow. Great. Not scary at all.".
The shadow man turned away, inspecting a row of glowing vats. "Fear is useful. But only mastery will save you. Pineapple Man… your story begins now."
Outside, the city slept. Somewhere far above, Satoshi's grape aura tingled faintly, sensing Dylan's strange new energy but still unaware of the fortress below.
And deeper yet, the vats bubbled, the soup frothed, and the shadow man began plotting the first step in Dylan's metamorphosis — not just into a hero, but something new altogether… unpredictable… unstoppable.
Dylan woke up the next day still slightly yellowing and moaned as he rolled over in a bed of hot glowing broth. The shadow man in the corner pointed to a huge training room full of vats, wires, and suspended vegetables.
"Today, Pineapple Man, you learn fighting," stated the shadow man. "Control, projection, precision. Don't fail."
Before Dylan could even respond, a gigantic creature burst into the room. He was tall, round, orange, and. unapologetically a carrot. He wore a blue cloak, a tool belt adorned with strange gadgets, and boots that squeaked with each step.
"Be Mysterious Carrot," the man answered, his voice deep and booming. "Your instructor in chaos. If you survive my gizmos, you may survive the world in general." He flipped a gear on his belt, and at once dozens of tiny robotic vegetables shot across the floor like pinhead-tiny armor-plated ants.
There was a blink from Dylan. "Wait… wait. You're a carrot. You're a fat carrot. And you're… training me?"
Mysterious Carrot cracked out a crisp salute, his goggles sliding down his nose. "I am not one thing, Pineapple Man. And you will become. more than you imagine."
The figure stepped aside, crossing his arms. "Observe. Only enter if required. This is your trial."
Dylan let out a deep breath and stood up, extending his shining hands. "Alright, let's have it."
The robot veggies blazed away. Some spit mini lasers, others spun like drills, and others shot little soup bombs. Dylan erupted into hysterics of panic, sneezing, radiating, and hurling waves of yellow energy in all directions. Broccoli bits flew across the ceiling, carrots orbited in circles, and a meatball was launched from the air and struck the wall with a goofy *plop*.
Mysterious Carrot clapped. "Better. More anarchy. Master it!"
Dylan shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and imagined the energy inside him as actual pineapple juice. Slowly, the glow steadied. He launched a vortex of shining light, splashing the cybernetic vegetables into pots of frothy soup. He sprang, snapping noodles around like whip strands, entangling the final bots in a flypaper web.
Mysterious Carrot nodded with approval. "Good. But raw power is pointless without strategy."
"Strategy… uh… don't get hit by the flying broccoli?" Dylan ducked as a small robot launched another soup bomb at him.
"Yes, exactly!" Mysterious Carrot roared. "Then strike back with greater power!"
Training went on for hours. Dylan sneezed, farted, and accidentally sprayed glowing noodles everywhere, but slowly he began to get the hang of his powers — creating energy blasts, throwing soup-based projectiles, and even employing floating vegetables with precision.
Soon, Mysterious Carrot hovered in mid-air with something on his belt, twirling frantically, firing devices and igniting carrots at Dylan. Dylan retorted with a burst of power that transformed the flying carrots into harmless mashed potato balls.
The shadow man watched silently, arms folded, pleased with the turn of events. "Yes… potential is building. Soon, Pineapple Man will be present. Even Sour Grape Man will see it."
Dylan fell to the floor at the end, gasping, glowing softly. "Man… I'm never going to eat pineapple again."
Mysterious Carrot smiled. "You will eat it. You will glow. You will fight. And one day, you will surprise even yourself."
Steam curled from the vats, mixing with the wispy yellow light that danced around Dylan. The soup simmered somewhere in the fortress, whispering as though alive, waiting for what the new Pineapple Man could actually be.
Dylan stood in the door of the enormous obstacle room, squinting at the mess in front of him. It resembled a blend of a soup plant, a carnival, and a robot warehouse all shoved together. Pipes hissed, vats frothed, and gadgets hung from above like glowing fruit chandeliers.
Mysterious Carrot hung back, arms crossed, goggles slouching down over his bright orange face. "This is your gauntlet, Pineapple Man. Every device, every trap, every floating vat… it's designed to test your control, your reflexes, your cleverness."
Dylan growled. "You mean. I have to make my way through *all this*? And you're referring to it as training?"
"Right!" boomed Mysterious Carrot. "And defeat is. distasteful." He slapped the button on his belt. Instantly the room came alive. Soup pots spat, spilling syrupy liquid in loops. Little robot vegetables rolled up like metal soldiers. Metal spoons swooped in chains overhead. The entire floor buzzed as if the fortress itself were alive.
Dylan's yellow aura exploded involuntarily. He sneezed, and a spout of energy splattered soup about the room, knocking a dozen robotic vegetables into a pot of chili.
"Not bad," said Mysterious Carrot. "But that's just the start."
Dylan leapt out of the way of a swooping ladle and found himself on a mashed potato conveyor belt that launched him through a row of spitting carrot-shaped drill cannons. He flailed about wildly, unconsciously creating a glowing pineapple shield that deflected the drills, causing them to fly into a bubbling vat of minestrone.
He sneezed once more. Yellow energy burst outward, hitting a cloud of flying broccoli drones, flinging them into the ceiling. "Ugh! I'm not controlling this!" he bellowed.
The shadow man, silently standing on a balcony above, said in a low tone, "Control is learned in chaos. Accept it… or be consumed."
Dylan nodded sullenly. He curled his fists and focused. Rather than firing out energy willy-nilly, he visualized all the robots and gadgets as ingredients in a giant soup. He fired out sheets of glowing energy to stir the soup, entrap robots, and whip noodles around like whips.
The vats struck back, creating mashed potato bridges, rivers of radiating broth, and even vegetable platform rafts floating through the air. Dylan leapt over them, dodged drills, and unleashed a flash of golden energy that sent Mysterious Carrot's tiny army of robotic vegetables flying in full arcs.
Mysterious Carrot laughed so hard, he shook the room. "Yes! Adapt, innovate, survive! Pineapple Man… you may just take the title!
Dylan, panting and glowing softly, fell onto a drifting broccoli slab, drinking in the ruined, hissing room. "This is insane… and awesome. And kinda creepy. Mostly creepy."
The shadow man spoke boomingly down from above. "Good. But the true test is coming. Only when you face the unanticipated will you know your power… and your purpose."
The vats churned more frantically, the room shook with energy, and Dylan's aura burned brighter than ever. Somewhere deep in the fortress, soup boiled with a hissing roar, anticipating the next trial.
Mysterious Carrot drifted nearby, spinning gadgetry with his thumbs. "Take a rest if you must, Pineapple Man. Your real lesson begins now… and there is no return."
Dylan sat in the midst of the fortress, surrounded by bubbling cauldrons and metal vegetables everywhere. His body still glowed faintly yellow, but his mind churned with irritation. Whatever he tried to soothe the energy, it coursed out of control. He hurt, ached, and plain flat-out mad.
Mysterious Carrot hovered nearby, spinning gadgets like juggling balls. "Frustration is power waiting to be claimed," he said. "Use it, don't fear it. Embrace the chaos, Pineapple Man. Or… let it consume you."
Dylan clenched his fists. "Consume me? What does that even mean? I'm not some… villain fruit!"
The shadow man's voice echoed down from atop the balcony, devoid of emotion and calculated. "All heroes possess a seed of darkness within. All powers have a choice. The fortress shows the truth… and you are not special."
The vats foamed furiously. Broths and soups and glowing liquids rose into the air, forming whirling whirlwinds of energy. Robo vegetables swirled around Dylan like trapped animals, emitting sparks and projectiles. His glow blazed out in a wide fan, illuminating the fortress in a wave of yellow-gold.
Something inside Dylan shattered. The anger, the terror, the sense of being small against this impossible chaos—all burst out. He sneezed violently, and a blast of gold ripped through the fortress, hurling robots, tipping soup vats, and breaking walls.
Dylan stared at his hands, afire so intensely they looked melted. He laughed—first softly, then more loudly, a mad, churning noise that echoed off walls.
"I… I can do it!" he shouted. "I don't have to follow any rules! I don't have to be a hero!"
Mysterious Carrot's eyes blazed behind his goggles. "Yes… yes! Feel it, Pineapple Man. Let it motivate you. Let it transform the world."
The shadow man's voice grew deeper, more commanding. "Let it overwhelm the weakness. Let it steel the power. Accept it… embrace it utterly."
Light pulsed through Dylan's body. The vats began rising, spinning around him. Broccoli, carrots, noodles, and diced potatoes coalesced into spinning shapes at his command. He blasted a trench in the training room with a wave of his hand, whooping wildly.
As the light dimmed, Dylan was in the center, burning brightly. His yellow eyes flared, and a gleam of pineapple-tipped energy quivered above his head. His grin was wide, intimidating, full of raw, uncut power.
"I… am Pineeapple," he boomed, voice resounding. "The world will see… what a pineapple can do!"
Mysterious Carrot clapped slowly, proudly. "Excellent. Free, wild… unscripted. You are no longer just a fruit. You are a force."
The shadow man nodded from the balcony. "Now, formal training can begin. Pineeapple… let your power reshape destiny."
Steam hissed out of the vats, darkness twisted up walls, and the fortress seemed to pulse in rhythm with Pineeapple's thudding heartbeat. Outside, Clearlake peacefully remained unaware that a new, zany bad guy had been conceived in the glow of a yellow light—and that Sour Grape Man's peaceful city was on the cusp of its most absurd threat yet.
The fortress walls shook as Pineeapple laughed, firing bursts of golden soup energy at robotic vegetables, melting vats and ripping through reinforced steel like tissue paper. His glow grew wilder, brighter, less stable, and the fortress itself seemed ready to collapse under the weight of his newfound chaos.
Mysterious Carrot shouted from the sidelines, both terrified and thrilled:
"YES! Pineeapple, you've surpassed the fortress! Break it all, claim your destiny!"
But before Dylan could unleash another burst, the entire fortress suddenly froze. The soup stopped mid-bubble. The robots halted mid-step. Even the flames on the cracked walls stilled, locked in an unnatural stillness.
Then—everything cut to black.
Silence. No fortress. No soup. No Carrot. No sound.
A deep, commanding voice echoed out of the dark void:
"You're loud, chill. Too loud. And not nearly ready."
From the gloom emerged a leaning form—muscles chiseled like marble, flesh green with a perpetual emerald radiance, eyes throbbing red and green galaxies. Each step warped the black nothingness into waves of green light.
Denzel Broccoliton had arrived.
Pineeapple stepped back a stumbling pace, still yellow-glowing, his bluster faltering. "W–who… who are you?"
The smile grew, hard and unshatterable, across the figure's face. "I am Denzel Broccoliton. Defenser of the Vege Realms. Bringer of destruction to Multiverses. And you, Pineapple boy… are disturbing my peace."
With a toss of his fingers, the vacuum split asunder. In a flash they were standing in SPACE—on no platform, in no citadel, but merely *standing* in the emptiness itself. Galaxies spun this way and that, stars exploding, black holes imploding, all radiating more brightly under Denzel's light.
Pineeapple gasped, but his yellow radiation preserved him.
Denzel moved slowly, and entire solar systems shifted around like pawns. He put his hand into a black hole, drew it inside out, and tangled it up before sweeping it away like a rag. His green aura became even more brilliant, extending infinitely until it connected a number of timelines. "These. are my playgrounds."
Pineeapple's glow flared in defiance. "You think you're better than me? I'm not scared of some… broccoli man!"
Denzel laughed, the sound like collapsing stars. "baby steps at best, Pineeapple. Cute. But look…"
He flicked a finger, and universes split apart, folding into each other before realigning into infinite kaleidoscopes. "This… will work. This is what strength really means."
Pineeapple balled up his fists, radiating so intensely it eclipsed surrounding suns. "Then I'll catch up… I'll beat you!"
Denzel crept in close, his green energy almost engulfing the yellow radiance. "Beat me? Heh… then demonstrate it, fruit boy. Prove to me you're more than a privileged snack. Prove to me you can climb higher."
And thus, the two auras burst yellow and green furious, disrupting constellations, breaking comets, and rippling waves of energy through infinite dimensions.
The battle was only beginning.
On Earth once more, Clearlake shook under the perpetual scurrying of Shade Harvest's robots. They creaked from their hinges, their red glowing eyes swept over every street, and their polished steel paws tore through asphalt like paper. The town was less town and more chessboard upon which Shade Harvest played pieces with practiced ease.
Sitting upon the side of the CBLR skyscraper, Shade Harvest himself didn't move, body dressed in Silver armor with a black vest pulsing and has blue webs running in his Wrist gauntlets, four metal gliders on his back like wings. His mask was stronger than before, his eyes unyielding as he gazed below for anarchy.
"Clearlake is mine, I need to protect these people" Shade Harvest breathed, his words metallic, doubled by the artificial echo. "You people are nothing but variables. And variables… can be erased."
But then CRACK.
A purple-green smear zigzagged across the sky and exploded onto the street with enough violence to fling all the robots in a block length into walls, store fronts, and lampposts. The resulting crater pulsed softly purple as dust settled, and out of it stepped none other than Sour Grape Man, his body radiating wine-stained energy.
Listen here, Web-boy!" Sour Grape Man shouted, wiping grape juice from his chin. "You arrived in my city carrying a dump truck full of toys, but I don't play games."
Shade tilted his head, scornful. "Primitive. You are a chemistry error. I am a design of destiny.".
The initial salvo of robots launched. Sour Grape Man slapped his hands just once—a huge sonic blast shot out, vaporizing hundreds of robots into pools of liquid metal. "Oops, did I juice your toys?"
Shade's gliders snapped open, his body blasting forward in a streak of blue webs and sparks. In an instant, he lashed a Smart Web at Sour Grape Man, the threads sharper than blades, weaving midair into a cage. "You're slow. Predictable. Trapped."
But Sour Grape Man screamed into a more burly grape in the midst of combat, he broke wind, and his aura exploded outward—scorched through the Smart Web like sugar water through a blowtorch. "Predict this!"
He moved a step and was behind Shade Harvest, his fist brimming with grape-wine power packed. He punched Shade in the middle of his chest, and sent him flying through three skyscrapers in a row.
Shade reeled back onto his feet amidst the wreckage, gagging, but grinning under the mask. "Good. Good. Very good. Let's see what you do against this."
He pounded both fists onto the ground. Instantly, hundreds of giant robots, machines out of his personal arsenal, appeared from buried bunkers beneath Clearlake. Their core glows glowed like small suns, and their guns thrummed with resonance of annihilation.
The city shook as all their eyes locked on Sour Grape Man.
Sour Grape Man cracked his knuckles. "Guess I'll just have to turn Clearlake into grape juice."
In 3 seconds, Sour Grape Man was zipping along at light speed. He slapped aside one mech's planet-cracker beam. He sneezed, and another careened off into orbit. He headbutted a third with enough force that it exploded. His aura blazed across the skyline, blowing a thousand drones at a time out of existence.
Finally, he leapt into the air, landing in front of Shade Harvest. With a grin, he shoved two fingers into his mouth, let out a thunderous grape-flavored whistle, and the shockwave shattered Shade's gliders into shards.
Shade dropped to one knee, panting. "Impossible… you're just… fruit…"
Sour Grape Man crossed his arms, standing tall as the last of the robots crumbled into smoke behind him. "Fruit beats shade every time."
The crowd of Clearlake residents, who had been hiding among debris, began to cheer slowly.
But Sour Grape Man's face turned serious. He looked out on the horizon, where a sickly yellow light called from distance. a light he had never seen before.
The smoke lifted above Clearlake. Citizens poured out of their shelters, cheering as Sour Grape Man towered above the ruins of Shade Harvest's army of robots. Fire engines wailed, children waved boxes of grape juice high like banners of victory, and Dylan's empty car seat stood alone in the ruin of his wreck, faintly radiating yellow… undetected.
Sour Grape Man stood heroically, all goofy. "Don't fret, citizens of Clearlake! Your grapes are safe once more!"
One older lady tossed a basket of real grapes at him. He intercepted it, stuffed the whole bunch into his mouth, and grinned, puffed cheeks like a chipmunk. The crowd laughed, but that ended as soon as the sky *flickered black*.
Far out from Earth, in frozen black nothing between the stars, Pineeapple floated helpless, senseless, his golden aura dimly glowing. Then a giant shadow moved through the void. His flesh was carved from broccoli-stalk armor, his veins smoldering with burnished green. His eyes burned like two suns.
Denzel Broccoliton had arrived.
With a voice that shook galaxies, Denzel bent over the recumbent Pineeapple. "Do I… really need to exert 0.1% of my power?"
The broccoli titan's very breath distorted the starlight. He reached out with one colossal hand and, waving it, sucked whole strips of asteroids into whirls for effect. Then he sighed and shook his head.
"You're not ready. But… you *will* be. Someday, boy, the universe will hang in the balance on whether Pineapple rises—or festers."
In ridicule at the solemnity, Denzel's stomach grumbled so loudly it warped nearby moons. He flushed for a moment. ".Okay, maybe 0.2%."
The reality screen shattered like broken glass. The audience's eye Clearlake's eye chopped back to black.
And all that was left was the sound of a laugh from a fat carrot… somewhere deep within the ground.