[AMY IN DISPATCH (2025)] CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Robert Robertson III had never been particularly good at goodbyes, and he was worse at them when the thing he was saying goodbye to had been part of his family for nearly fifty years.

The press conference was over. After everything that had led up to it, the reporters, the cameras, the questions, and the carefully rehearsed statement he had kept folded inside his jacket, it had taken less than an hour. Less than an hour to stand in front of the world and tell them that Mecha Man was retired.

Robert stood alone in the backstage corridor, leaning against the wall as he listened to the muffled voices of reporters on the other side of the doors. Somewhere out there, people were already discussing him, his father’s legacy, his grandfather, the suit, Shroud, and whether he had failed.

He already knew what some of them would say. They had called him a disappointment before, and he had no doubt they would call him worse now.

Robert closed his eyes and let his head rest against the wall.

He could still remember the first time he had worn the suit as Mecha Man.

He had climbed inside it years earlier, of course. He had been seven years old, barely tall enough to reach the manual release, when he had sneaked into his family’s workshop and climbed into the cockpit. His father had found him there, sitting in the pilot’s seat and pretending to fly.

“You’re going to break something,” his father had said, although he was smiling.

“I’m not gonna break anything.”

“You’re going to break something, and then your mother is going to break me.”

Robert had laughed.

That had been the first time he had ever sat inside the suit. Years later, he would climb into it again, except this time he would be wearing it as Mecha Man.

He could still remember the weight of the armour settling around him, the thrum of the Astral Pulse vibrating through his bones, the smell of ozone and heated metal. His father’s voice had crackled through the comms.

“You’re not replacing me.”

Robert had laughed when he heard it. Of course he wasn’t. Nobody could replace his father. All he had wanted was to continue what the Robertson family had started.

Prime had done it, building the suit from scrap and stubbornness and protecting a city that did not yet know it needed protecting. Astral had done it too, refining the design, joining the Brave Brigade, and bringing an era of peace to the Southland.

Robert had believed he would do the same.

Except now his father was dead. His grandfather was dead. The suit was broken beyond anything he could repair, and the legacy they had built together had ended with him.

The family tradition had finally caught up with him.

Robert opened his eyes.

“That’s the legacy, then,” he muttered to himself, his voice hollow in the empty corridor. A family that kept putting men inside the same machine until eventually one of them didn’t come back out.

Except this time, Robert had survived. He wasn’t sure whether that made him lucky or a failure. Maybe both.

He pushed away from the wall and started walking. The lobby was still packed. Security kept reporters back behind their barriers, but Robert had enough space to move toward a side exit. He kept his head down, shoulders tight, moving like a man who’d forgotten how to stand in a crowd without armour.

He just wanted to go home. Maybe drink something. Maybe sleep. Maybe—

“Robert.”

He stopped.

That voice.

He turned to see Blonde Blazer standing several feet away.

Mandy.

She wasn’t alone. Hunter stood beside her, arms folded across her chest, her sharp eyes scanning the room as though she were cataloguing every exit and potential threat. Amy hovered slightly behind them, wearing her Panacea costume beneath a jacket, her hands shoved into her pockets.

Robert stared at them for a moment.

“…You came.”

Mandy gave him a small smile. “I said I’d be here.”

Robert looked around. “No cameras?”

“No cameras.”

“Reporters?”

“Not unless Hunter decides to become one.”

Hunter raised an eyebrow. “I heard that.”

Amy lifted one hand. “I brought moral support.”

Robert stared at her. “Yourself.”

“Exactly.”

He couldn’t help it. A laugh escaped him, small and unexpected, but real.

Mandy smiled when she heard it.

“I thought you might want to talk somewhere without fifty people shouting questions at you.”

Robert sighed. “Yeah.”

He looked down at himself, at the dress shirt and the tie he had loosened halfway through the conference, then at the empty space where the armour normally would have been.

“I just told the entire country that I’m done.”

“I know.”

“And I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

“You don’t have to know yet.”

Robert looked at her. That simple answer somehow hit harder than anything the reporters had said.

Mandy stepped closer. “Robert, I’m not here to convince you that retiring was wrong.”

He blinked. “You’re not?”

“No.” She glanced towards the doors, where the muffled noise of the press corps still filtered through. “You were hurt. Your suit is destroyed. You need time to heal.”

Robert nodded slowly. “So what are you doing here?”

Mandy smiled. “Offering you another way to help.”

Robert’s brow furrowed. “Another way?”

“You’ve spent years fighting criminals. You’ve led teams. You know powers. You know how heroes think. You know what happens when they panic, when they improvise, when they don’t listen.”

Hunter snorted. “Some of them are really bad at listening.”

Mandy gave her a look. “I mean a specific group.”

Hunter shrugged.

Robert almost smiled.

“SDN needs experienced people who can teach younger heroes how to operate in the field. Not just how to punch harder. How to make decisions. How to coordinate. How to keep civilians alive.”

Robert stared at her.

“A desk job.”

“A very active desk job.”

Amy raised a hand. “And you get to yell at superheroes.”

Robert looked at her. “That’s part of the appeal?”

“Apparently.”

Hunter nodded solemnly. “You’d be shocked how many people deserve it.”

Robert looked back at Mandy. “And what exactly are you offering me?”

“A position as a dispatcher.”

He laughed softly. “Me.”

“Yes.”

“Robert Robertson III.”

“Yes.”

“Who spent his entire life being Mecha Man.”

“Also yes.”

“And you want me to sit behind a desk and tell superheroes where to go?”

Mandy’s expression softened. “I want you to tell them how to get there.”

Robert went quiet.

He understood then what she was really offering him. It had nothing to do with the suit or the Robertson family name, and everything to do with the experience he had spent his entire life gaining. She wasn’t asking him to become Mecha Man again. She was asking him to help other people become better heroes.

“You think I’d be good at it.”

“I know you would.”

Robert looked away. He didn’t know what to say to that. For years, people had asked him what Mecha Man could do. Very few people had asked what Robert could do.

Then there was the other part.

“You said something about resources.”

Mandy nodded. “SDN can help rebuild the suit.”

Robert’s head snapped back towards her. “You’re serious.”

“Very.”

“Even after what happened?”

“Especially after what happened.”

Robert swallowed.

He looked towards Amy. She was smiling, and there was something different about it. It wasn’t the sort of smile people gave celebrities or the one they gave superheroes because they were impressed by them. It was simply warm and genuine, as though she had already decided he belonged here.

Something in his chest tightened.

“You know,” Amy said, “you don’t have to decide immediately.”

Robert looked at her.

“But?”

“But I’d really like you to come work with us.”

“Us?”

Amy gestured vaguely between herself, Mandy, and Hunter.

Hunter snorted.

“You’re making it sound like some secret club.”

“It could be a secret club.”

“No.”

“Fine.”

Robert looked between them. Something about the exchange felt normal, warm and ridiculous, and he hadn’t realised how much he had missed that.

Mandy stepped closer.

“You don’t have to be Mecha Man right now.”

Robert’s jaw tightened.

“You can just be Robert.”

That almost broke him. He looked away quickly, blinking hard, grateful that none of them mentioned the way his eyes had gone glassy.

After a moment, he nodded.

“Okay.”

Mandy blinked. “Okay?”

“I’ll do it.”

Her expression immediately brightened. “You will?”

Robert managed a weak smile. “Yeah.”

He glanced towards Amy. “And if you people are actually willing to help rebuild the suit…”

“We are,” Mandy said.

“Then I guess I have a reason to stick around.”

Hunter smiled. Amy looked positively radiant.

“Yes!”

Robert laughed again. “What?”

Amy clasped her hands together. “I don’t know. I just think that’s good.”

“You’re strange.”

“I’ve been told.”

Mandy shook her head. “Welcome to SDN, Robert.”

Robert looked at her, then at Hunter, then at Amy, and smiled again.