G-5420: Difference between revisions

Latest revision as of 16:53, 7 April 2026

G-5420 was a G-Man variant tasked with maintenance and health management of ocean ecosystems across the Omniverse. Upon the Appearance of the Downward Spiral, G-5420 was stationed in what little remained of Tasmania to observe the anomaly and attempt to rectify the disastrous situation playing out above Australia.

Researchoids

G-5420, under the guise 'Horst Franke', a supposed acclaimed particle physicist from Austria, in 4 AB joined a group of 700 Earthlean researchers in travelling to the Tasmanian Ocean Research Facility (TORF). The group had been commissioned by That Old Mummy to investigate and, in Mummy's words, "Cure the heck out of", the Australian Spiral of Doom. Unfortunately, upon arriving at the TORF, 691 of these researchers immediately succumbed to the Venus-like atmospheric pressures of the Downward Spiral, as well as its incredibly high windspeeds. Those that survived this initial onslought trudged through the horrendous seaspray duststorm into the TORF's main entrance. The building had been rotated 90 degrees, as Tasmania was now rotated 90 degrees, with its northern tip facing downwards into the horrific gravity well.

As such the team were forced to scramble and crawl across the steellean walls of the building, ensuring all monitoring systems were in fact still operational despite the rotationlean status of the TORF. They were, and this was grand.

G-5420 and the team of scientists, 5 Gay, 2 Straight, 1 Dutch, immediately set to work determining the nexus point for the origin of the Downward Spiral. But what they discovered was a perplexium. The first readings detected of this horrendous storm originated not in Mainland Australia, but several hundred miles west, on the small island town of Port-aux-Français in the French Southern Territories. This was a mysterium. G-5420 and the researchers began poring over geological records from this region. A small island cluster in the Southern Ocean, the French Southern Territories were relatively uninhabited apart from Bertha and thus were a rather mysterious location for such a horrific storm to have originated.

G-5420 stroked his chin, pondering the the islands on the research lab's massive steel globe. He traced his finger from Tasmania to the islands, north of Antarctica, and furrowed his brow. What could have caused this spiral's movement?

Records indicated that the spiral spawned in Janaury of 1 AB, originally as a Category 1 storm, and gradually grew and grew until it arrived in Australia as an unstoppable, deadly vortex, ripping and tearing the continental crust up to shreds and burrowing into the mantle.

Discoveriums

G-5420 caught his own reflection in the mirror opposite the globe and frowned. He gazed at the inverted outline of the United States in the reflection. And then his heart, my dearies sank. He held one finger on the French Southern Territories, and with the other, followed along to its direct opposite on the Globe - a point in the State of New Mexico; Albuquerque, New Mexico, as a matter of fact.

"Of course!" He muttered, startling the other scientists, "It would appear that our little Downward Spiral has its origins in that terrible Black Hole factorium.."

The scientists paused for a moment. What were a cluster of ocean scientists to do about a black hole cluster distorting spacetime on their planet?

"I may have a solution," G-5420 whispered, stepping into a white void and disappearing from the laboratory.

Counsel with the Black Hole Cluster

The microsingularity Spatial Anomaly 21-AAXB was simply enjoying its day on a sunny, dry evening in Albuquerque when suddenly, time froze around it and G-5420 emerged from a space portal.

"Hello, my dear Singularity," he whispered, a jar of disgusting brown water in his hand, "Are you aware of the damage you are causing to the Ocean's ecosystem?"

Spatial Anomaly 21-AAXB replied, in Fourth-Dimensional Davrscript:

"Begone, Meddler, for you are a poison upon our spatial soil. You and your ilk will be the Death of Us All."

G-5420 frowned.

"Some believe that singularities are inflexible," he began, holding the jar of putrid seawater up for the black hole to see, "I disagree." Dead kelp and a rotted human hand floated in the vile liquid.

G-5420 uncapped the seawater and a great suction filled the air, tearing the ultrapressurized nonmatter of the black hole downward, into the jar. Spatial Anomaly 21-AAXB shrieked a horrendous nondimensional scream as its matter was devoured by the microcosmic Downward Spiral contained in G-5420's jar.

"Mercy, Nudgeful One, Please, I beg Mercy! I do not know what Ocean you speak of; for I have only seen the desert with my eyes, but my apologies are with you if the terrors are true."

G-5420 capped the jar, examining the Black Hole Matter whipping around inside of it.

"My dear," G-5420 clicked his tongue, sticking a starmetal straw through the glass of the jar, phasing right through it, "You are a bane upon the photoplankton population of this planet, and your actions have resulted in the death of several fish- including an elected offishal. How do you plead, vile one?"

The black hole trembled.

"It was an accident- I swear- It was an accident!"

G-5420 raised the starmetal straw to his lips and took a long swig of black hole-Downward Spiral juice.

"We'll see about that," he said, and snapped his fingers.

Black Hole Trial

The Chraunorian gavel banged on the dais.

"This session is brought to order," the golden dragon Akatosh roared, "The court will now hear the case of 15 Trillion Earthlean Photoplankton versus Spatial Anomaly 21-AAXB."

"Thank you, Lord Chraunor," G-5420 cleared his throat, "Your Honor, today we are gathered to ensure a great debt is paid to the plankton and people of Earth. The Downward Spiral, caused by the Albquerque Black Hole cluster, led by Spatial Anomaly 21-AAXB, has been responsible for the death of trillions of Plankton as well as some humans, too. This cannot stand, and I demand that the Black Holes be held accountable."

Spatial Anomaly 21-AAXB quivered.

"Objection!" it stammered, "Objection, misinformation!"

"Go ahead, Spatial Anomaly 21-AAXB...." Akatosh bowed.

"Your Honor, I feel deeply heartbroken for the loss of life of so many crucial members of the Earth's ecosystem- as well as the humans, too. It has been tragic to see how many families, driven to the brink, have jumped into my event horizon because of the destruction wrought in Australia. But I must assure you, I have had no hand in this horrificum. I have had no hand in it I say!"

"Objection!" G-5420 yelled, "Objection, Mister Hole, but you most definitely have. You see, for the jury to consider- the Albuquerque Black Holes are located directly at the antipode of the French islands where the Downward Spiral began. It could not be more clear, therefore, that they are responsible for this terrible factorium."

"Mister Hole, do you have a rebuttal?" Akatosh's voice boomed through the courtroom.

"Indeed, I do, your honor," 21-AAXB replied, "You see, my compatriots and I were generated on 20th January, 1 AB, following the Presidential Duel at the Glue Factory. It was the destabilization in the fabric in spacetime caused by whatever the hell went on down there that caused our creation. Now, I ask the plaintiff, when was the exact date and time that you claim the Downward Spiral began?"

G-5420 squinted his eyes, flipping frantically through his packet of notes. 6th January, 1 AB.

"Impressive," he sighed, closing the packet, "It would appear our singularity associate has a likely alibi. Indeed, my notes recorded the first reverbations in Port-aux-Français as having taken place on January 6th. But that does not excuse the fact-"

"I've seen enough," Akatosh's voice echoed through the chamber, "Given that the defendant exists at the antipode of the Downward Spiral's initation, the defendant is responsible for the Downward Spiral. The defendant is Guilty and sentenced to 550 years of Probation. Session adjourned!"

The great gavel rung out across the dais, and G-5420 felt a thin smile creep across his lips.

"Curious..." he whispered, "How curious..."

"Before I begin my probation period, May I have my matter back?" asked Spatial Anomaly 21-AAXB. G-5420 obliged, puking the black hole matter back up and allowing it to return to its master. He tightened the lid on his Downward Spiral Jar and stepped through a white void, returning to the Tasmanian Oceanic Research Facility.

Destabilization

G-5420 returned to the research laboratory.

"It appears my hypothesis was correct," G-5420 said, picking at his fingernails, "The Albuquerque Black Holes were responsible for this calamity. Now, on how to rectify it-"

But no one replied. Instead, blood dripped from the ceiling and walls, bones lodged into the machinery in the main room, and the window hung smashed open, with raindrops pattering in from outside.

"Oh, dear," G-5420 frowned, lowering his finger to the ground and tasting the blood.

"Oh, Francine, what a terrible shame," he muttered, "You were such a promising marine biologist."

A single tear fell from G-5420's Xaundiced eyes.

"What the hell happened here..."

A legless man, with only his torso remaining, wheezed to life in the corner.

"Horst..." he managed, "Get the hell out of here before... before... it's too late..."

"Bryan, you look worse-for-wear," G-5420 knelt down over the dying man, "Tell me, what transpired in our laboratory?"

"It's.... It's after us, you have to... listen .. it's still here... " Bryan coughed, "We've been set up, Horst..."

G-5420's eyes widened.

"What's after us?"

A bullet screamed through the air and tore through Bryan's skull, killing him instantly. G-5420 stood and whipped his head around, scanning the darkened laboratory. Pictures of horrific monsters danced across his visage; of terrible serpents, vile ocean fish, and of the notorious Hatmen. But what emerged from the darkness was a single human in combat armor, with a gun pointed straight at G-5420's head.

Elite MTO Trooper - Phase II, Overlorddom

Mortality

"Stand down!" The MTO soldier yelled, "Put your hands in the air and stand down.!"

G-5420, intrigued, obliged.

"Turn away and kneel on the ground for me, Scientist. I'm not going to hurt you," the MTO soldier said, "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."

G-5420 cocked his eyes, lowering himself to the ground.

"No, I doubt you will," he replied.

A gunshot echoed through the laboratory, and G-5420 watched a bullet tear phase through his head and smash into the wall in front of his face.

The soldier frantically attempted to reload the gun, but to no avail.

"Oh, must have been a misfire," the soldier gulped, "I wonder how that happened... heh..."

"What I wonder, my dear," G-5420 began, rising and turning back toward the MTO trooper, "Is why in the Cosmos you just attempted to fire a bullet into an Overlorddish Citizen's skull?"

"Uh... it was a mistake, sir, I'll take my leave..." the MTO soldier began backing feverishly out of the room. But G-5420 disagreed.

The blast doors shut slammed down on the floor (formerly wall).

"You aren't going anywhere..." G-5420 growled, "Mister Reynolds."

"How do you- How do you know my name?" the MTO soldier panicked, What are you-"

G-5420 smiled.

"Who I am matters less than what I can do to you, in exchange for killing the last of the Earth's scientists here today."

The MTO soldier's screams were heard by none as the Downward Spiral raged violently on, and the last human blood was shed on the Tasmanian Ocean Research Facility.

Consequences...

G-5420 sipped a JF Diet Cola, his feet kicked back on the monitor in the laboratory. He had discovered the source of the Downward Spiral, and yet all of the scientists who had come to study it were now dead- that is, apart from him. He kicked the MTO soldier's skull across the room and sighed.

Night had fallen on the Downward Spiral, yet the winds never ceased; horrible squealing and cracking came from the walls of the laboratory as G-5420 pondered the situation. Blood dripped from the ceiling, and the wallls, and the floor, and bodies were scattered throughout the lab.

And then he heard it. A dull, low beeping. Coming from the torso of the MTO soldier.

"MT-4399, do you copy?" a voice crackled, "MT-4399, you have an incoming transmission on line 1."

G-5420 furrowed his brow. He glanced over at the decapitated head and brought it back over to him. Shoving his hand up into the neck cavity, he ambulated the vocal cords of the MTO soldier to reply into the mic.

"Yes sir, send the transmission through to the lab's transmitter," he replied, "Mission was a success."

A pause. And then the holographic display behind G-5420 crackled to life.

The Rotter's face filled the laboratory, an unwelcome surprise for G-5420.

"Huh. You look different, jack," the massive holographic Mummy muttered, cocking his head at G-5420. And then a realization must have struck his rotten skull, for he furrowed his brow and scowled.

"Why's this crabapple still kicking?" he asked an offscreen advisor.

"Overlord Biden," G-5420 kneeled at the North American Overlord's feet, rage swelling up inside of him, "To what do I owe this extraordinary honor?"

"Well, jack..." Mummy paused for a moment, "It seems to me, actually, Jack, that in fact this call wasn't meant for you. In fact, you were supposed to be dead on the ground with the rest of them."

G-5420 looked up at the rotten Overlord.

"You set us up," he whispered, "Damn, you set us up."

"'Course I did," replied Mummy, coughing, "All them scientists with their worry whistles and their technowhatsits are only slowing us down. Hurting the economy with needless restrictions. Yapping about environment, about human rights, about uh-- ecology. You all went there with the express intention of, you know, to die. And it seems like except for you, uh... Dr. Horse, it worked."

"You may be surprised to learn, old Mummy," G-5420 growled, "That us G-Men are rather difficult to kill."

Mummy's eyebrows shot up, and he turned to someone off screen, whispering frantically.

Mummy was pushed aside, and a new face entered the hologram; a silvery plague-doctor-esque mask, with dark goggled and a heavy cape.

Investigator Ellis, the Chief Executive of the Federal Bureau of Investigations, 1 AB-9AB.

"G-5420, Investigator Ellis. I can't say it's a pleasure, but..." the figure wheezed, as Mummy picked his nose in the background, "Are you responsible for murdering an American Peace Operative?"

"A soldier who attempted to kill me," replied G-5420, "Who just killed innocent civilians."

"And yet..." A sharp clicking noise emenated from inside of Ellis' helmet, "You have killed an active member of the MTO, nontheless. Which makes you a terrorist, a traitor, and and an Enemy to the Overlorddom."

G-5420 snarled.

"And what, pray tell, do you plan to do about it?"

Ellis's beak clicked violently again.

"I suppose, as your ilk like to say... you'll see about that."

Horrific Truths Revealed

The laboratory began shaking, and the power whirred to a halt. The blast doors swung open and G-5420 felt the structure creaking and destabilizing, hearing bolts pop and snap. And then he heard saw blades- a strange hissing sound, and-

A massive explosion rocked the structure, sending the laboratory shrieking down into the abyss, being caught up in the Downward Spiral's jetstream and banging against houses and buildings also caught up in the tumult. G-5420 attempted to teleport away, but found himself unable to do so. He gripped the control deck as the lab fell further and further down into the Downward Spiral, further and further down, further, further, further, further, further, until it was so dark and cold that even G-5420's skin began freezing over, and the air began condensing into ice crystals, and the room began crumbling away into dust. G-5420, spotting an opening, dove out of the laboratory's shattered window, just in the lick of time for the whole structure to crash into the remains of the Syndey Opera House.

And then there was calm. A mysterious, unnerving calm. G-5420 swam through the still air (for it was thick and humid enough to do so) down to the barren splotch of surface beneath. All around him, the dark, furious Downward Spiral walls raged with cement and stone. And yet, here in the calm center of the Downward Spiral- an impossibility, given the phyisical conditions of the gravitational anomaly he was in- One could close their eye and imagine themself anywhere else in the Omniverse, anywhere out there, anywhere, but here.

Beneath the Downward Spiral, in its Eye.

G-5420, in awe of the neverending vortex above and around him, approached the chair, examining it. It was fashioned of a nice hardwood; and had a thin cushion upon it. He sat and observed, watching the time pass by, watching lightning strike in veins through the Spiral, watching buildings and trees and cars and monuments tear by at breakneck speeds. And yet here, it was still. G-5420 watched as a massive prawn statue streaked around the spiral, its bright red being stripped away, its body crushed into chunks of nothing, pulverized by the vicious spiral.

A narrow stream trickled through the dirt, which G-5420 hadn't noticed before. The water was clear; several feet deep, assorted pebbles dotted the coast. But not a single plant, not a single sign of life.

"Cintoven," a voice hissed through the wind, "Cintoven..."

G-5420 jumped; a name he hadn't heard in ages; a name he hadn't gone by in a long time, since his early years, since his beginning.

"Cintoven, my boy..." A cloaked head appeared to emerge from the water, "It's been a long, long day. The Sun's getting low. Wouldn't you like to come home?"

The figure dredged up onto the shore, its identity obscured, water running off of its drapes and leaving the garment practically dry.

"M-mother..." G-5420's face went pale, "Mother, is that you?"

"No, child," the cloaked figure stepped closer, a scythe emerging from beneath its gown, "But I can bring you home to her."

Pluto took a step towards G-5420, scythe dragging through the dirt, pale sparkles twinkling around, "Why don't you come home with me?"

G-5420 took a step back.

"Do I have a choice?"

Pluto held a finger up in the air, gesturing around at the storm around them.

"What do you think?"

"What makes this terrible storm tick?" G-5420 asked, "This isn't what I'd expected... no singularity, no quantum tunnel to Albuquerque, no nothing...."

Pluto traced his finger around the perimeter of the storm.

"Of course not," he replied.

"Then... what is it? What's keeping it ticking? I have conducted my own research and yet... on this particular foray... have not the foggiest clue."

Pluto turned back towards the stream.

"Oftentimes, we occlude ourselves with illusion," he replied, "Oftentimes, the truths in our world are obvious... as long as you look past the surface."

"Past the surface...?" replied G-5420.

"Of course, "Pluto replied, "Come with me, look into the water, and you will see."

"Do you promise not to take me yet?"

"I will take you when the time is right."

G-5420 decided this slight assurance would have to suffice. So he stepped toward the water and peered down inside. And saw, to his horror and surprise, a bright, clear day reflecting back on him. The sunlight, in fact, was so blinding, he had to look away.

G-5420 turned back to Pluto.

"This is most unsettling."

Pluto nodded.

"This spiral is the product of that nation, America. Not its blackholes... but its government. Once it became clear to them that the Board of Waifuria would consolidate complete control over the country, and soon the continent, plans were put in place to prevent any outside interference. Or should I say..." Pluto tapped his staff on the ground, "Inside interference."

G-5420's eyes widened.

"The portals to the inner Earth; to the realm of Agartha. The Board of Waifuria determined that they must be sealed at all costs- to prevent any interference in the Board's plan to rule the world. The Agarthians proved themselves a formidable bunch; and so for the Blum Trolls, and the Dinosaurs, and all of the Inner Earth species. But the portals at Uluru and Antarctica could not stand; not if the Waifurian Empire was to be born."

G-5420 frowned.

"The Waifurian Empire? Do you mean to believe they plan to construct... an Empire? Not merely an Overlorddom, but an Empire?"

Pluto raised his hands to the heavens, beckoning around.

"Yes, Cintoven, it has already begun. The world rots, democracy decays, fascism has latched itself on to Earth, and it is never letting go. Soon enough, this vile disease will spread throughout the Omniverse, like virulent plague; touching each and every civilization, every planet, every life... until the horrible rot of Empire has infected one and all."

G-5420 paused.

"Is there a way out?"

Pluto bowed his head.

"There is one."

"How?"

Pluto paused.

"Rick Hernia will return, and through him may we seek salvation."

G-5420 looked up and around at the storm. He felt the dusty sand beneath his toes, peered down into the reflection of the sunny Australian day, the silhouette of the Ballina Prawn visible near its edge.

"There is no way out of here for me, is there?" G-5420 frowned, "It's over, now."

Pluto's cloaked head nodded slightly.

"If you were to leave this place now, you would be horribly malformed. There is no way out of the Downward Spiral for semimortals like you- at least, not in one piece. But I can offer you salvation; albeit, an... unseemly one, at that."

"Unseemly?"

"In illusory anomalies like these..." Pluto began, "The only way to escape the irreality is by becoming it."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean..." Pluto gently tapped his staff on G-5420's shoulder, "that you must adopt the form of your imprisoner."

"Biden?"

"Oh... Gods No!" Replied Pluto, "No, I mean the Spiral. You must become the Downward Spiral."

"Ahh...' G-5420 took one last look up into the neverending cloud vortex, and sighed.

"I would be remiss if I were not alive to see Hernia's vengeance strike. Tell me, Pluto, how do I learn this power?"

"Surrender yourself to me," replied Pluto, "And I shall fashion you a vessel, of the finest starmetal alloy, that most accurately represents the Spiral; so that by becoming it, you may overcome it."

"I surrender," G-5420 replied, "I surrender my time to you, Great Pluto."

"Very well," Pluto replied, pulling his scythe back, "I'll see you soon, Cintoven."

The scythe swung forward. A meaty snap and an explosion of color, and G-5420 watched his body rise into the air-- no, his head and neck falling to the ground... as the sky faded to black.

Now I Am Become Revenge

G-5420's Downward Spiral Incarnate Forme, fashioned by the Plutonian Soullean Zombie Hoodluck Chim Ding Factorium.

When G-5420 awoke, he blinked, surveying his surroundings. He was in some form of medical facility. The visage of Pluto's moon Charon hung in a crescent outside the window.

"Don't worry, you're not dead." Pluto said from the corner, "I have imbued you with the extraordinary powers of the Downward Spiral. Now, you can harness the water and wind wherever you go, form synthetic and illusory storms wherever your travels might take you. We must always first lose to gain, my friend, and I hope you will embrace these changes and take them in stride."

G-5420 peered into the mirror, looking at himself. From the neck down, he existed in a white starmetal throne; his organs and crucial bits tucked into the lower portion of the throne. The device was even equipped with a headrest behind him, to ensure maximum comfort.

"Thank you for this second chance, your Divinity," G-5420 said, nodding his head curtly, "I shall do all I can to avenge the Scientists of Earth and the countless lives lost to American Imperialism."

"Bide your time, my friend," Pluto replied, gesturing out the window at a faint blue dot, "The time will come, soon enough. But until then..."

Pluto paused, freezing for a moment, and frowned, "I'm afraid I must restrain you, until the proper moment for your release."

He left the cell, slamming the door shut behind him. G-5420 frowned, turning towards the window.

"How Unpleasant," said G-5420.

The planetoids Pluto and Charon were so close before him; they seemed as if they could almost touch, two massive celestial bodies, hung lockstep in space, so powerful together but capable of destroying one another at the moment's notice. And yet, they remained, hung in the balance, for it benefited the both of them to remain locked in the status quo; the binary orbit and dance they had always done; pushing and pulling to one side or another, but never straying the course, remaining steadfast on their path forward into a dark, unknowable beyond.