The Rule of Cool

by jukori

Summary:

“It’s time!”

“Time for bed?” One of the Goyles wagged its tail and cast a longing glance toward the cozy dog bed in front of the fireplace.

“No.” Draxum pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s time to create the most powerful warriors in all of yokai history!!!”

OR

How Draxum acquired his turtles.

Notes:

• Inspired by 'What if' by red-rover-au

This plays before Huginn's and Muginn’s flashback in ‘goyles, goyles, goyles’

As always, if you find any mistakes, something that doesn't make sense, sound weird, or if you have any questions or plot ideas, let me know! I want to improve my writing and am open to any help I can get! Reviews are awesome! And so are you!

Chapter 1: ONE

Electricity sizzled in the air. He felt the shift and his heart leaped at the thought of what was to come - of what he would create. 

Soon. The inclination of a new dawn burned behind his eyes. Not long, and his people would be safe.

The alchemist cracked his neck and lowered his instruments. One by one, he stretched his aching limbs, as for tonight his work was done.

***

Baron Draxum dove through the dense mayhem that was the Hidden City Bazaar. The small shops with their candles and colorful collections of fabrics and trinkets bustled with activity. It was easy to get lost in the trivia of the small-minded crowd, easy to forget between laughter and happy smiles. It was also easy to stay hidden. Among the vendor’s shouts, praising fruit and bread and what else they had to sell, he was invisible. Still, he pulled his cloak deeper over his face as he moved on. 

He knew the path. The way to the back alley was a familiar one. 

The surrounding light wavered and with each step, the stores grew shadier. The air around was thick with secrets. Stolen weapons. Forbidden goods. Dubious offers. He waded further into the shadows. A sign stated in big, bold letters: ‘Murder Shop - Poison Doesn't Kill People, People Kill People’. 

The goat man rolled his eyes.

He kicked an empty flask on the ground, ignoring the matching drunkard in the corner. The sound triggered a cascade of wails and screeches. He smiled. His journey was nigh. 

Gradually, the smell of rotten fish flooded his nose. It mixed with the pungent stench of ammonia and death as rows of cages expanded in front of him. All kinds of mystical creatures crawled within them, and yet his eyes were fixed on one stall only. He had found what he was looking for. 

Draxum cleared his throat. 

A merchant turned, and his eyes lit in recognition. They had history together, which was important in business. The bond between customer and salesman was sacred. There was also a vague notion of helping the economy by supporting the local market. It was basically organic.
 
“If it isn’t my least favorite customer?” The Weasel-Yokai smirked, showing his sharp fangs. “To what do I owe the honor?” 

“I need something special,” Draxum announced, disregarding a variety of bunnies, squirrels, and a rather large otter, gnawing at the metal bars.

“More special than Moonbow?” 

Ah, The Pony. 

“Or last week’s Komainu? Or the Wendigo?” The vendor raised a brow. By now, the sheep must own nothing short of a petting zoo. 

“Children. I just can’t say no when they look at me with their big sad eyes.”

“Right.” Something about a niece or a nephew - the yokai didn’t care much about another man’s lies. “What can I do for you then?”

“I need surface creatures. Preferably sturdy ones. Something that can take a hit.” 

“How rough exactly are these kids of yours planning to play?” The weasel joked. 

“Very rough.” 

The merchant gulped at the flat tone. “The little ones can be quite a lot,” he agreed, laughing despite the chill that ran along his spine. He struggled not to ask.

“Well?” The alchemist inquired.

“How about a crawling nightmare? It's an all-time classic - a favorite of young and old.” He lifted the lid of a plastic container, revealing a fearsome-looking scorpion. The little freak of nature awkwardly spun around while poking itself on the head with its own stinger. Evolution didn’t have a plan. It made frequent and catastrophic mistakes. This was one of them. 

“It seems rather dull,” Draxum retorted unimpressed. 

Fair enough. “Perhaps Mademoiselle Fuzzy-Fluff is more to your liking?” He twisted and shoved a ball composed of eight hairy legs into the goat's face. 

“No. Spiders.”

“Okay, okay,” he assuaged the blank stare of his client. Picky bastard. 

Hm. The weasel stroked his chin as he watched the other yokai’s eyes linger on the reptiles. Snakes, salamanders, bearded dragons - all one's heart could desire. But this was the problem, wasn’t it? The guy was a snob on principle. Nothing would ever be good enough. He licked his lips. He got this. He knew how to play his cards. It wasn’t the merchant's first rodeo, and soon the fool would utter the magic words his heart oh so desperately longed for since he was 9 years old and had to share a room with his five siblings. 

“You might be in luck,” he said before his customer went out of patience. “Did you ever hear of turtles? Beasts as old and mighty as dinosaurs. Built for survival and defense.“

The Baron motioned him to continue, granting him his undivided attention. A questionable pleasure.  

“Their design prevailed over millions of years.” He paused to add a pinch of theatrical flair. “They also come with armor.”
 
“I suppose that will suffice." Draxum nodded with greedy eyes. "I take three of your most vicious turtles then.”

Hook, line, and sinker. 

“Hahaha, good one! They are impossible to come by. Incredible rare.”

What separated the novice from the master was how to reel the fish in. And what a big fish he had lured. 

“There is something I can do.” He looked around cautiously, glancing over first one shoulder and then over the other, peering into the dark as though someone might be listening. “A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, but it’s a rather pricey affair.”

“Of course it is.” Draxum snorted, however, he didn’t seem deterred. “Show me.” 

“Just a moment.” 

The merchant disappeared under the large table that acted as a line assigning the roles of this particular transaction. A spotted brown tablecloth covered its sides, reaching all the way down to the floor. In the absence of the Baron’s cold, piercing eyes, he allowed a sly smile to slip on his lips before rummaging through the junk which piled up underneath. He pushed some garbage aside until he located a worn-out cardboard box. 

“Hey! Shoo!” 

A rat crouched on top of it. The critter jumped up, its prey held tightly between crooked, yellow teeth as it fled in the opposite direction. 

With one egg gone, two more remained. The first was cracked. Carton absorbed the spilled yolk which had dried a long time ago, however, the other seemed fine. 

Perfect. He picked it up and rubbed it on his pant leg, cleaning the grim and dirt off. All that was missing was the right amount of drama. Where was - Ah! He rushed over to his stack of Fancy Boxes. The opulent cobalt case embossed with golden patterns and the midnight blue satin interior would do the trick. The weasel placed the egg inside and emerged.

“I’ll guarantee it’s one of a kind,” he said, presenting his treasure with a somber expression and utmost care. 

The lid opened and Draxum’s eyes grew wide in awe.

“Excellent!” The Baron exclaimed thrilled. “I want it!”

“Everyone wants it, but can you affor-”

“Money is no object.”

There they were. For a split second, the merchant's eyes fluttered shut as a pleasant wave of warmth filled his whole being. In your face, ‘dad’! 

“How do I hatch it?” Draxum asked after a second thought.

“With love, an incubator, and lots of patience.” 

“Very well.”

Coins were exchanged, and the deed was done. The Weasel grinned, pleased with the heavy bulk secured inside his pocket. 

“Remember, no take-backs,” he yelled after the goat man.

Notes:

Credit where credit is due:

Quote: “The air was thick with secrets.” - from the story 'Soldiers, Children' (go check the fanfic out if you haven't, it is amazing!!!)

Chapter 2: TWO

Never again. 

The hair over his eyes was limp and wet, and his face felt sticky. Rivers of sweat gathered under his fur. Beneath his feet, the earth was steaming. Literally. A thick milky mist slithered between his ankles. The humidity was unfamiliar. So was the blazing sun that ruled the creek with an iron fist. It knew no mercy. He smacked his palm against his forehead. And neither did the insects. 

Draxum cursed the foul creatures which had returned with the rising temperature. Shamelessly, they feasted on his life juices. He had squished thousands of them, and yet they kept coming back for more. His fur provided a reasonable amount of protection against the bloodsuckers’ relentless attacks, however, their numbers were only growing. It made him almost miss the earlier downpour. Almost. 

The day had started with a drizzle, and that drizzle turned into a sprinkle, and the sprinkle into a full-on rain shower. Soon enough, he had been drenched head to toe. And while the wet weather was what granted him safety from the current onslaught of stings in the first place, it also flushed down all hopes of finding any traces of a potential nest. He had wandered the creek for an eternity, looking for any turtle tracks whatsoever. Nothing.

Huffing and puffing, he continued his quest. His robe dragged through small puddles. The fabric torn by thorn bushes, was littered with twigs and leaves, a lot of leaves actually. 

It was getting gross. 

He sighed, inwardly bidding the beloved garment goodbye. There was no salvation among the musky smell of his warrior stink anyway. He would have to incinerate it later.

A branch hit him in the face, and he stepped in something squishy. 

“Eww!”

Great, now there was mud all over his boots. At least, he hoped it was mud. He tried very hard not to think about the pile of paper tissue on the ground. Once again Draxum cursed, cursed the filthy humans. He spent hours in this hell, poking around rocks, searching for turtles masquerading as plants or driftwood, yet all he had to show for his efforts were a few measly frogs and a rather rude perch that didn’t respect boundaries. 

“I shall not be defeated,” he muttered to himself. His ancestors had faced many hardships in their time and never gave up. He wouldn’t either. Arggh!!! If it weren’t for these pesky mosquitoes, he thought, furiously scratching his leg. Life would be so much easier with a henchman or two.

Draxum was about to call it a day when something caught his attention. He could have sworn he saw movement among the roots of an old willow. In the middle of empty bottles, floating flip-flops, and other trash entangled in the large tree, a creature scuttled down the mucky waters. It stuck out like a sore thumb. The Warring Warrior Scientist leaped forward.

Splish-Splash! 

A tiny turtle wriggled in his grip, its shell soft and crinkly. He flipped it on its back. The yolk sac was still attached to the belly. It must have hatched mere hours ago. The newborn softshell turtle trashed between his fingers. Its small beak clasped around them, biting down as hard as it could. 

“Nice try, little one, but you’re going to need more than that to stop me.” 

He inhaled and exhaled, before securing the feisty reptile in his pouch. This better be worth it. 

A cool breeze soared through the air. He stilled, embracing the calm of the creek for one last time. Mirrored rays of gold burned on the water’s surface. The yokai listened to the buzzing dragonflies, the bird’s late anthem, the note of infinity rustling within the crowns of the trees.

For a moment, he became one with the now, with its fragile beauty and - 

A mosquito landed right between his eyes. It rubbed its legs together, speculating on an easy meal. Draxum suppressed the innate urge to swat it. Instead, he allowed the needle-like stinger to drill into his flesh. There was no pain. He didn’t feel it enter, just a featherlight touch if he concentrated hard enough. 

He took a swing. His fist balled around the insect, trapping it between his claws. Calculating eyes followed the mosquitoe’s futile attempts to slip between his fingers. The goat man frowned. He held it for a second longer, before releasing it.

.
.
.

Like a giant, Draxum towered over the glass tank, his huge and distorted shadow cast on the turtle within. 

“Who’s a good lil’ agent of chaos and destruction?” The Baron cooed at his wee warrior beast. “Yes, yes, you are!” He continued to gush. 

The small hatchling chirped at him before its attention returned to the cage on the other side of the lab. Its gaze was glued to The Pony. The mare pawed her hooves, tail swooshing back and forth, grinding her teeth while she sharpened her horn on the damp stone wall. There was murder in her eyes. 

Full on captivated, the red-eared slider churred in delight. 

Draxum removed a blue plastic container from the workbench and placed it next to the open bag of vermiculite on the ground. Perhaps he really should hire some assistance, the yokai thought once more. 

“I got you your first General.”

With a satisfying plop, another future destroyer of humanity was dumped into the shallow waters of the tank. Immediately, the softshell scrambled to the deep end, hiding in the corner and hissing at the world. 

“He will be second in command.” 

Draxum smiled. One more to go.

"Welcome home, Number Two."

Notes:

Headcanon:
- Leo loves pointy objects and unicorns because of Draxum's pony
- Donnie can live in the sewers without going insane because the place where he hatched was filled with garbage as well

Chapter 3: THREE

The ding-dong of the bell chime mocked the very essence of his soul. Nevertheless, Draxum stepped through the doorway and straight into his worst nightmare.
 
Total, complete, absolute annihilation. Nothing would save them. The yokai gritted his teeth as he entered the world of a dying breed. They had it coming, he thought, while he walked down aisle after aisle filled with dog food. Why, oh why, would any species with higher cognitive functions feel the need to mold dry cow skin into the form of a donut? Honestly, he couldn’t tell what offended him more, the rainbow sprinkles shaped like miniature bones, or that the things were called ‘Oinkies’.

The warrior pushed forward, staggering further through purgatory, only to falter at an insurmountable wall of canine fashion. His brain cells withered in agony when his eyes fell on a pink camouflage beanie. 

“Your face looks funny, mister.”

He peeled his gaze from the sparkling rhinestones spelling ‘Bad Bitch!’ and glanced at the little girl in the puppy pen.

“It’s super hairy,” the child continued without a care. It was surrounded by furry fluff and piles of candy wrappers.

Draxum had no one to blame but himself when he made eye contact with the frail vessel of a bald baby monkey. Too late, he realized his mistake. The offspring of his mortal enemies stopped playing with the pooches and shot him a toothy smile. 

“Want some?” 

Sticky fingers dug into the pocket of a yellow jacket. 

The goat man braced himself for the next dumb human crap he would have to face. He was willing to deal with any- and everything to protect his people. 

She held up her palm. It contained a single, unremarkable bonbon.

“You got strawberry!!!” She cheered.

Draxum grimaced. This was most certainly not a strawberry. 

“I have orange, see?” 

Her germ hole opened wide. She stuck out her tongue, showing him a chewed-up lump of sugar. 

The warrior backed off. Disgusting!

“You can have another,” the lil’ bugger offered generously when the nobleman remained silent for too long. 

As soon as the words left her mouth, so did the piece of candy.

“Three-second rule!” She declared with a confident shout. 

Before Draxum could wrap his head around what that was supposed to mean, the horrid brat picked up the spit-covered treat and put it back between her lips. 

He shuddered when she pulled out a dog hair and sheepishly snipped it onto the floor. 

Baron Draxum had enough! At this point, the little menace was just quenching its thirst for chaos. To even entertain the idea of a response was a colossal waste of time. 

He pivoted on his heels, gifting her a last loathsome glare, and moved deeper into the pet store. 

God, he couldn’t wait to burn this place to the ground.

With a bitter aftertaste, he left the child behind and pursued a path paved by sweets. To his great annoyance, it led him towards his objective. The aquatic section. He would not fail. 

He knew he was close. His eyes strayed to the big and small fish scurrying in large tanks. Victory was imminent. 

The scientist came to a halt. There they were, three large terrapins. The glow in his eyes dimmed and he wrinkled his nose. Pathetic. Draxum despised the lethargic drifters. Weakness shone in their every fiber. They had no fire. Their deformed carapaces were lumpy and bumpy, their skin sickly and bland. It was downright insulting to compare them to One’s spicy, red-hot patterns or Two’s piquant agility. 

He tapped on the glass. No reaction. 

“May I help you?” A gruff, monotone voice asked from behind. 

Draxum slowly turned. 

The pet shop employee paused as he took in the yokai’s appearance. “Sir?”

They locked eyes. The man had the stature of someone who’d picked up heavy objects and put them down, and then done that again a few billion times. For a second, his brow furrowed with concern before the all-consuming apathy he’d acquired over years of customer service smoothed his features back into a carefully robotic mask. As promised, the goat man had nothing to worry about. 

Draxum’s hands tightened into fists. He could do this. He had practiced. The Warring Warrior squared his shoulders. 
 
“Hey, T-Dawg. What is up in dis…” He glanced at the cheat sheet written on his hand. “…Hizouse? I am looking for a tiny tot, Chocolate Rain.” 

A lonesome cricket chirped in the background.

“Okay, yeah, I will take the turtle pellets for sure, and a basking platform. What else do you got?” Draxum continued to deliver the performance of a lifetime.

The guy remained stock-still. 

“Nonono. I’m going to take the pellets and the platform,” Draxum repeated. “But, like, what else you got? Right?” 

His ape brain went ‘brrrr!’ as his mind rebooted. 

“You know, I saw something on TokTok where it sort of said that, like, uhm - Sorry.” The yokai squinted his eyes and wished he’d written his script more legibly. “Where it sort of said that, uh, you can, like, put cheese on top of a blr- Blizzard and then you can sort of mix that up to bring out the flavor.”

It was still buffering and the poor soul of a minimal wage worker forced it to adjust faster.

“So I was just wondering like maybe, you know, maybe -um- and then, uh, like a lemonade.” 

Finally, the part that cringed was dead and the employee’s mouth could move again. “What?” 

Draxum ignored the question, delivering his next line dare he say it perfectly. 

“I know you don’t do that here, but I was wondering if I could try a lemonade. Okay? Yeah! What do you think?”

“Are you trying to buy drugs?” 

“No? No! You don’t do that here. Though momma raised no quitters and I have cash to spare.” 

The brute’s stoic facade faded into something familiar. Draxum grinned. The warrior doubled down in the face of an opponent's weakness. “What else you got?”

“Follow me.”

Nailed it. Draxum was giddy with excitement when he was taken to the back of the shop. His plan worked. Not that he had any doubt, of course. 

A harsh light from above illuminated the room. The yokai scanned his surroundings. Gray walls. Stale air. The concrete floor wet. Pallets and shelves held their goods in too-small cups and overcrowded tanks. In short, it reeked of questionable legality.

He shook his head and frowned. How was it, that even in a place like this, there was still candy on the floor? Maybe it was a human thing. 

The alchemist was led to the side, where the turtle hatchlings awaited him in a trist glass prison. It was bleak, no decor or enrichment. 

“This one,” the goat man pointed at the most magnificent specimen of a turtle he’d ever seen. 

“Sorry,” grunted the pet store employee, “Not for sale. This lovely fella belongs to my daughter. She found our little firecracker near the highway. He's the only survivor of a molded clutch. A real trooper and such a sweetheart.”

Draxum barely listened.

“He means the world to her. I could never -”

“No, not the small one,” the Baron interrupted dismissively. “I want the big guy!”

“Oh.”

Both human and yokai eyed the reptile in question. It looked like a little angry old man who was currently terrorized by a tot half its size. Not bothered by the larger snapper in the slightest the tiny bully nipped at the poor turtle’s feet whenever it moved away. He seemed anything but friendly. 

“I must warn you, alligator snapping turtles get huge.”

With remarkable persistence, the tangerine baby turtle climbed onto the spiky back of its victim to claim the best spot directly under the heat lamp. 

“Are you sure?” 

Draxum blinked. “Huh?” He cleared his throat. “Yes. Yes, of course. Bro.” 

The bodybuilder look-a-like half shrugged before reaching into the tank. His hand aimed for the box turtle on top first and he nearly lost a chunk of his finger. The alligator snapper growled protectively at the threat, ready to give it another try should he come too close again.

Immediately, Draxum’s attention returned to his chosen subject. The ideal warrior indeed. The innate hate for mankind exceeded even his wildest dreams. 

“Nuh-uh, playtime’s over,” the guy scolded. “Come to Daddy!” He fished out the orange rascal. 

Fluttering limbs flailed in the air and Draxum’s jaw clenched. 
 
“Whooo~” The hatchling was lifted up and down. “And the flying turtle goes up~up~up aaand home!!!” 

The little one trilled exhilarated. Mr. Muscle nuzzled their cheeks together, eliciting another series of happy sounds, before putting the tot into a green bucket plastered with dinosaur stickers. "Here you go, Rexy,” he cooed with one last gentle pat on the head and turned back towards his customer.  

The display of affection was ridiculous and highly unnecessary. 

“And now to you.”

He exited the pet store with a new basking area, a heater, and a brown carton box with the words ‘Handle With Care’ written on the side.

The alchemist rubbed his hands together. Mission accomplished. He’d done it! His quest was over. The three mighty warrior beasts were his, and his alone. He took immense pleasure in the knowledge that the downfall of mankind would come in form of their own ignorance. 

Hah! All glory to Baron Draxum! He did not look back. Why should he? 

This called for a celebration. 

Notes:

Headcanon:
- Draxum took an improv class on 'How to haggle with humans'. It was a giant bust. Not that it mattered. His acting skills are abysmal, and the concept of improv just went straight over his head - aka he practiced in his lab and that's why the twins are such theater kids
- Raph loves dinosaur trampolining, cause he associates it with Mikey's visits

Random trivia: the candy is from a popular German brand called 'Nimm2'

Inspiration:
Dino stickers
Dialog

Chapter 4: FOUR

“Three is fine,” Draxum answered the barkeeper. He bristled at the uncharacteristically wistful tone of his own voice and continued to stare away in silence. 

Three was good, perfect even. Omne Trium Perfectum. Three mighty warriors. Three wishes. Three magic words. A natural cadence, the recurring pattern complete. His power trio. 

He looked down. 

The light from the orbs around him cast long shadows while they projected the battle within. 

It had always been the plan. 

Beginning, middle, end.
Past, present, future.
Mind, body, soul.

What else could he ask for? 

“It is fine,” he repeated. Because it was.

The yokai behind the counter lifted a brow. 

Three was enough. It oughta do it. He didn’t need more, and yet his thoughts kept circling back, back to the tot left behind, the small box turtle still in the enemy's grasp.

The alchemist chucked down his drink and put the glass next to the other two. They formed a perfect triangle, divine and whole. 

Screw it, Draxum decided. The barkeeper blinked. A portal ripped into existence. He’ll get one more. 

The warrior arrived in the little girl’s bedroom, home to a dozen doodles of animals and smiley faces of all kinds. The goat man let out an annoyed huff. It looked like a unicorn had puked all over the place. 

Curled up in a cozy blanket burrito the child was fast asleep. Draxum couldn’t care less. He went straight to the turtle tank on the desk and averted his gaze in the same breath. The heinous decor burned the backside of his retina. What was wrong with humanity? 

The yokai needed a moment before his thoughts cleared. With two fingers he lifted the plastic pineapple house and there he was, snuggled on top of a soft pillow. 

The little tot cracked his eye open and blinked fuzzily. It yawned and instincts forced the Baron’s mouth to respond with a little ‘aww’ of his own.

He reached down, grabbing the baby - saving it. There’d be statues in his honor. 

Draxum paused. A slow grin spread over his face. He rummaged inside his pocket and left a piece of black licorice in its place. 

Chapter 5: Bonus-Chapter

Summary:

A little prolog

Draxum knelt before the council. His heart pounded in his chest. This was his moment. The moment he'd been waiting for all his life. The moment he was destined for. He would prove himself and show them.

"Baron Draxum, for centuries you and your family served us and all our kind well," the three mighty heads above him said in unison. "At last you will learn our most sacred secret."

Yes! Giddy excitement spread through the Baron. Finally. 

"Behold, the prophecy of prophecies!"

A curtain rose and he could hear the drums inside him. An ancient wall encrypted the words of destiny. The fate of his people was hidden between these letters. Like a moth to the flame, Draxum was drawn to them. He read. And then he had to read them again. 

"Pink, squishy flesh thingies will destroy us all." Draxum's lips moved on its own. 

The heads nodded in approval. They said nothing, giving the yokai the opportunity to process the impossible.

"..." Draxum was still stareing at the wall of fate. "So, basically humans?" He asked. 

"Meh," the head to his left replied. 

"It seems terribly vague." 

"Rather inconclusive," the one in the center agreed. 

It was at this moment that Draxum realized his bosses were idiots.

Unbelievable! He took one last glance. The mystical symbol in the right corner started to look suspiciously like a winking smiley face.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Heroes in a Nutshell