“Look, I understand your frustration.” He said, “But running away from them won’t do any good.”
“You have so much that you can do and nobody can do what you’re able to do as well as you can.” He tried, “We’re all in the same boat here and your drawings look to you for guidance; help them at the very least, we can’t amass that army without your help.”
“I get it if you want to go at it alone but you don’t have to; there are people waiting to help you, all you need do is reach out and they’ll respond.” BlackBelt told him.
By the time Blackbelt finished, Vladin was already in the ship. The door opened, and the engines slowly turned on.
Brock crossed his arms.
“Alright.” He began walking towards the ship. A long cord extended from his arm. It snaked into the ship and began dismantling the control panel.
It would not be possible, seeing that the control panel was inside. Seeing that Brock wad now attacking him, Vladin piloted the ship away, entering the light speed.
BlackBelt readied a Jutsu and tried to focus on Vladin, but, seeing he went to light speed, gave up on launching it.
“What the actual Karzahni?!” He yelled.
Jalerian entered the room as Vladin departed.
“And this only because we are not a democracy.”
Brock stood at the hatch where the ship had left. His body had begun to twitch uncontrollably, pixels flowing around him.
There was a flash of bright, white light as Brock changed into a large humanoid with green and black armor and spikes all over him. The humanoid stood up, it’s height about 8 feet.
“He will regret that…” he hissed, the creature’s voice a harsh, jagged sound.
BlackBelt immediately felt endangered and reflexively brought out his Keyblade, “Brock?” He asked, caution all over his tone.
“Yes?” asked the creature.
“Are you feeling alright?” He asked nervously, “You’re hulking out a bit.”
“Hmm? Oh. Yeah.” Brock looked down at himself. He snapped his fingers, and his armor conformed to a tuxedo with a green bowtie.
“I suppose you want an explanation?” Brock said, looking at BlackBelt, his green eyes searching the user.
“Yes, that would definitely be a good place to start.” He said, still holding his Keyblade at the ready.
“I’m a glitch.” Brock admitted.
BlackBelt immediately tensed up, ready to fight, “And, forgive my rudeness, why shouldn’t I try to delete you here and now?” He asked, brandishing his weapon. It was clear he didn’t want to fight but he also didn’t want another mess like before to happen.
“Wait, wait!” Brock said, backing up.
“It’s not what you think, I’m not a bad glitch!”
“And what proof can you give of that?” He asked.
Well, he hasn’t tried to attack us; I wish I had a Kanohi Rode. he thought.
He was unsure but still wary of Brock.
OOC: wait a minute, wouldn’t the other Glitches be aware of Brock in some way?
“I-I’m a glitched out glitch!” Brock said. “Please! Believe me!”
If Blackbelt were to look into Brock’s eyes, he would see the fear, sincerity, and pain in his eyes.
“W-when they found out, t-they tried to d-destroy me. I b-barely escaped.”
The Keyblade slowly vanished, “Who tried to destroy you?” He asked.
“T-The Glitchmaster.” Brock said. Green tears began to form in the corners of his eyes. It was beginning to become evident that Brock was actually quite young.
BlackBelt drew close to him, “Shh,” he said, “I’m not going to hurt you.”