Captain Gargle

Chapter 4

Michael yawned as he trudged down the dimly lit street toward his apartment. The eerie quiet of the small town after his investigation with Belle had left him on edge, and his mind buzzed with the cryptic warning from the man at the diner. "They're coming," he had said. But who—or what—was "they"? Michael couldn't shake the feeling that something big was lurking just beyond his grasp, waiting to reveal itself.

He turned the corner into the park, taking a shortcut through the shadowy trees. His thoughts were focused entirely on Belle, the investigation, and the strange sense of anticipation that had followed him since that cryptic conversation.

Suddenly, a bright flash of light tore through the sky, lighting up the park like a firework. Michael froze mid-step, shielding his eyes from the intense glow. The light seemed to hover in midair, crackling with energy before it shot downward—directly toward him.

Instinctively, Michael dove for cover behind a nearby bench, his heart hammering in his chest. "What the hell was that?"

When the light faded, a figure stood in its place. Tall, armored, and imposing, the person's silhouette cut through the darkness, illuminated by the soft glow of their suit. As they stepped forward, Michael saw the armor gleaming in the faint moonlight—a mix of metallic silver and white, covered in strange, tooth-like symbols. The figure moved with purpose, and their eyes, glowing faintly beneath their helmet, locked onto him.

"Who are you?" Michael croaked, still half-hidden behind the bench.

The figure didn't answer immediately. Instead, they approached with slow, deliberate steps until they stood just a few feet away from him. Michael's pulse quickened. He considered running, but something about the figure's presence rooted him to the spot.

"I am Commander Floss," the figure finally spoke, their voice clear and authoritative. "Guardian of Planet Gargle. And Earth's last hope."

Michael blinked, trying to process the words. "Wait, you're from where? And—Earth's last hope? What are you talking about?"

Commander Floss removed her helmet, revealing a striking face—sharp, determined, with piercing silver eyes that held the weight of countless battles. "There's no time to explain everything. The Cavities are coming. They've already destroyed my home planet, and now they're coming for yours. Earth needs a champion to stand against them."

"Cavities? Like... like tooth cavities?"

Floss nodded solemnly, though there was no hint of humor in her expression. "Exactly. They consume everything in their path, spreading decay. If they reach Earth, this planet will rot from the inside out."

Michael blinked, trying to wrap his head around what she was saying. Cavities? An alien invasion? None of this made sense. "And what does this have to do with me?"

Floss took a step closer, her expression serious. "I've been searching for someone worthy of this," she said, reaching into a small compartment on her armor. She pulled out a small, shimmering vial of liquid. It sparkled in the faint light, casting a blue glow. "The Magic Gargle. The only weapon strong enough to counter the Cavities' corruption. With this, you will become Earth's champion."

Michael stared at the vial, his mind racing. "Wait—me? I'm just a reporter! Why would you give something like this to me?"

Floss didn't hesitate. "You were chosen. This magic doesn't seek out the strongest warrior or the most skilled fighter. It seeks the pure of heart. You, Michael, are that person."

Before he could protest, Floss pressed the vial into his hands. It felt cool and strangely light. "But I don't know the first thing about fighting," he stammered. "I'm not a hero."