To say it has been a while would be quite hilarious, if you ask me. And I suppose, since it is 2020, the year where anything can happen, I might as well post my yearly update of this probably-thought-to-be-dead-fanfic!

Toxic, yes, yes Mole has! Let's see where he ends up. Smarvin, it is my pleasure, and I do hope you enjoy this one if you ever do see it. Guest! Same thing I said to Toxic, we'll find out today. Alex, Z, and their creator, hopefully no dogs this time but uh, no spoilers ;) Max, yessss yes I am. About a year and bit too late but still! Jonathan I hope I have taken enough time with this one. As for the green bitch, huh, never thought of Mole to be Edna but it does fit. And the last Guest! Thank you very much, I hope you.enjoy this chapter as you did with the rest of my stories!

It would be a bit meme-like for me to say that I hope to update more frequently, as I said that for the last 3 chapters and well, yeah. But I actually mean it this time! I think…

Also if you notice that this chapter may contain a bit more detail than the rest, well, I figured I should stop being so lazy with my writing and actually step it up a notch! Seriously, this made it 4 thousand words so I hope it's worth it.

Alright, enough of me talking, enjoy the chapter!

Overlord's PoV

"What the fuck is this doing in my manifest?" I glare at my henchman through the eyeholes of my red mask. Throwing his clipboard on the table, he hurries to pick it back up.

"I-I don't know, Sir. It was a special request from… well from him." Even my men, those who are meant to be loyal to only me, fear ONLY ME, can't even say that psycho's name.

"Hey, you can't come in here- ARGH!" I hear the muffled voice of the guard outside the room, abruptly cut off by equally muffled thuds.

Speaking of that helmet wearing bastard…

The door slowly opens with a loud, drawn out creak. Stotch- I don't call him by that stupid fucking moniker he has so proudly adopted. The only time I ever had was out of pure sarcasm. It's fitting though, such a childish name for such a childish character. At least he's changed out of that ridiculous outfit for something more… respectable. He still wears that dumb helmet though, well, actually right now it's held in his gloved hand, a bit of blood staining the top of it.

I nod to my man, who swiftly vacates the room. Stotch pays no attention, better than having his throat cut, I suppose.

"Do you always have to kill my men?" I lean back in my velvet armchair, crossing my legs. He moves towards my selection of alcoholic beverages, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and examining it.

"He was being, rude." Is all he says as he pours himself a drink. "You're lucky I didn't kill the other guy." He smirks before taking a sip, and then spitting it out almost immediately. "How do you drink this stuff? It tastes horrible.."

"Cut the shit, what's all of this crap you've brought to my safehouse." I ask him. "Like, where'd you even get half of this shit?"

He sets the glass down and turns to me. "Now where's the fun in telling you that? If you want me to do what you've asked me to, then you really shouldn't be questioning my… methods."

"What the hell does a bunch of cop stuff have to do with your 'methods'? I'm trying to keep my little operation away from those cunts, but here you are, drawing attention to yourself as always."

"Then maybe, you should've hired someone else." His stare, unnerving, focuses on me like a bird of prey. He tilts his head, in a somewhat challenging manner, though it doesn't phase me.

"Fine." I scoff. "But remember what you're here for. I want these so called 'heroes' to never cross me again."

"Ah but here's the thing, the game's changed. Mysterion's unexpected return has certainly shook things up a bit, it's only a matter of time until he really finds you. Hell, the Coon already had once. Last time I checked, this is the only location you have now right?" He snickers, like he's mocking me.

"At least there's a silver lining in all of this. You ever wonder where The Coon gets all of these fancy toys?" I raise my eyebrow. I always figured Eric had a resourceful friend, but I don't exactly have the manpower to find him out myself. Don't tell me…

"You know who this person is?" I ask.

"They're trying to keep this a bit more secret, but I believe he goes by the name, 'Mole.' Rest assured, he won't be a problem for you any longer." He then moves towards the exit.

"And these, experiments of yours? Are they going as planned?" He simply turns, places his helmet on his head and says, "Oh believe me, the real test will come soon enough." He smiles, slowly closing the door behind him.

His freakiness aside, this is the edge I needed! With this "Mole" gone, Eric has no one else to turn to…

Kenny's PoV

"I'll see you tomorrow, boss." I half-heartedly say while walking out the door. Other than Cartman's earlier visit, this day's been pretty uneventful. The occasional text from Bebe, a few from the others but that's around it.

The noise of a helicopter overhead fills the air. The city isn't too active around these parts, but I notice the blue stripes that signifies a police helicopter. That's a bit unusual…

"Neeeeeeeenawwwwww" At that moment, two cop cars speed past, sirens blazing. My eyes follow them until I see a small crowd gathered around a shop window. As I move closer, I hear mentions of "Coon" and "Hideout", making me quicken my pace. I move through the crowd until I reach the source of their discussion: numerous TVs displaying a news broadcast of what looks like a police raid. The headline displaying "COON'S ACCOMPLICE FOUND."

"What the fuck-" I say to myself until my phone cuts me off. A text message. Not from Bebe, not from Stan or Kyle or anyone else, but from Cartman.

"We need to talk." Is all that's stated, except for an address….

At Heidi's House

I arrive at a fairly old looking house on the outskirts of Denver, south of the city. Parked sloppily on what looks to be a driveway is, well I can't really tell. It's got a giant tarp over it but it's much larger than any traditional vehicle I've seen, my rusty old car included.

I pull over near the house, not like there's much road around here, more like this is in the middle of a field if anything. It's an odd place for Cartman to hide out but I suppose it makes sense. Not much to worry about all the way out here.

I exit my car and walk towards the door. I raise my hand to knock, but I notice that the door is slightly ajar. I slowly walk in, the wooden floor making a loud creak that startles me just a bit. I do hear a bit of muffled noise coming fro-

-SHATTER-

There, coming from there. Quickly followed by a sharp shriek too. I hurry to where I think the noise comes from, around a corner and-

-almost into the path of an old lady?!

To my surprise, she wasn't as startled as I was, I guess I didn't expect to see an elderly woman in a wheelchair.

"I-I, uh," I stumble through my words as I try and hastily explain why it seems I've broken into her house. "I got a text and I didn't think the door would be open and then I heard the noise and-"

She held up her hand, pausing me, "It's alright, I was told to expect visitors." She smiled at me. A door to her left then opened to reveal a much more messy looking Heidi Turner, who definitely had a more startled reaction.

"K-Kenny? How did you get in?" She said with a raised eyebrow.

I pointed behind me to their entrance hallway. "Door wasn't locked and I heard-"

"CARTMAN YOU FUCKING IDIOT! AT LEAST LOCK THE DOOR WHEN YOU BARGE IN HERE!" She yelled back into the room, startling the shit out of me. A short grunt followed by some coughing was the reply she got. "Sorry," She turned back with a welcoming smile, grabbing the elderly woman's wheelchair. "I see you've met my grandma."

The woman extended her hand "Please, call me Cyndie."

"Kenny." I responded, shaking it.

"Oh I'm aware, my granddaughter was bouncing up and down the house this morning saying "Kenny is Mysterion!" over and over again like a-" She was interrupted by Heidi pulling me towards the door.

"Okay! Probably best not to keep Eric waiting," Heidi then shoved me through said door before rolling Cyndie away.

"She's a nice woman," I turn to find myself in a kitchen, or dining room. Probably both. Cartman was sitting at the centre of their dining table, and to my surprise, still wearing his Coon gear. Minus the helmet of course, which was set on the table to his right, along with 2 empty beer bottles, a third being in Cartman's hand. "Both of them are, too nice to be dealing with me." He brought the bottle up to take a sip.

"I heard the news before you texted me. I'm assuming that the Police have arrested-"

"Mole." Cartman finished, gritting his teeth. "His own fucking men turned on us," Cartman paused before correcting himself. "Turned on him. Pretty sure most of them were against me from the start." Eric scoffed as I sat down.

"I suppose the police might find out who you are now?" I asked. He looked at me before chuckling to himself. "Mole's crew was stupid, sure, but not stupid enough to leave their names laying around on any written records. Even if they did, place has basically burned to a crisp. Besides, the only ones left alive were Mole and myself and well, Mole won't talk."

"Only ones left alive?"

"Of course you would zero in on THAT information. The ones loyal to Mole killed the ones who weren't, and vice versa. Cops cleaned up the stragglers and took Mole in, I escaped." I sighed in relief. "Of course, that didn't stop those pricks chasing me across the damn city! I only got free about half an hour ago." He grumbled before taking another drink.

Before I could respond, the door behind me opened. In walked Heidi once again, carrying some medical shit in a tray. I couldn't tell since I never have to use it. She sat it down on the table before-

-SLAP-

"Ow! What was that for?" I shriek in pain. Seriously what the fuck did I do?

The answer came soon enough. "Scaring the shit out of my grandmother." She glared. Cartman smirked.

"Wasn't it Cartman who forgot to lock the door though?"

-SLAP-

"Argh!"

"I know." Heidi rolled her eyes before pulling out a dustpan and a brush. "Eric, you could at least try and clean up the bottles you break." She knelt down behind Cartman's chair and swept some unseen glass. So that's what that shattering was.

"You said I startled Cyndie? She didn't look like she was startled." Cartman scoffed at my words.

"She was probably more annoyed that you almost made her miss her soap operas." Heidi giggled a little. "Besides, she is a war veteran, don't think you almost running into her would make her burst into tears." I raised my eyebrows at that.

"War veteran?" I asked, as Heidi dumped the broken glass into a bin.

"Second World War," She said, picking up a damp cloth that was lightly stained with blood. "and Vietnam. She was a combat medic so it's not like anything Eric gets into is gonna phase her much." She dabbed underneath Cartman's right eye, which I noticed was quite bruised. Actually, a lot of his face was bruised.

"Heidi picked up quite a lot from her." Cartman added, raising a hand to his face only for Heidi to slap it away. "She's a bit assertive," That earned a glare. "but it helps when you're constantly getting shot, beat up, almost stabbed, you know, the usual." And that earned him an eye roll. Also a slight smile on Heidi's face, not like Eric would care to notice.

"You know what I don't get?" Heidi turned to me. "How the fuck does Eric always come to me looking like he came out of a cage fight, yet you always come to school looking like your usual, scruffy yet attractive self?" And THAT earned a glare from Cartman. "You are Mysterion, after all. Shouldn't this stuff be a daily occurence?"

"I-"

"He kills himself every night." Cartman interrupted before I could speak. Heidi looked like she had gone into shock, almost fainting if Cartman didn't catch her, and set her down on the chair next to him.

"What? How? Why?-"

"I'm kind of unkillable." I glared at Cartman as Heidi burst into another fit of questions. "And how do you know I did that?"

"You have a gun in your belt yet you gave me some righteous bullshit about not killing people. I'm not that stupid. And before you ask," He turned to Heidi. "I once drank Kinny's ashes and he sort've, invaded my soul, or something, so that's how only I can remember it."

"Everyone else forgets and by the time I wake up the next day, nobody else can remember it even happened. It's like nature's cruel joke of a superpower." I sighed.

Heidi rubbed her forehead. "Why did I get involved in this?"

"Why am I even here? What did you text me for?" I ask Cartman. In all the chaos that ensued for the last 10 minutes I almost forgot why I was even here.

"You saw the news, I thought that was obvious?" Cartman stared. Oh for fuck sake.

"I'm not helping you break out your partner in crime." I groaned. I have Fitzgerald hunting me down for being a vigilante. Breaking someone out of police custody is something I absolutely don't need, or want to deal with.

"I'm not asking you to help me with the whole breaking him out thing, I just need to find out where he is." He continued as Heidi went to check on the back of his neck.

"You're lucky I'm even allowing you out tonight with this amount of damage." She muttered, rubbing some form of cream on his neck.

"You're not my mother."

"She does sound like your wife though." Both Cartman and Heidi growled and hissed, respectively, for that comment. Totally worth seeing a bit of colour appear on their cheeks though. "But what makes you think I can find out where Mole's being kept?"

"You mentioned knowing the old Police Chief, well enough that he knows who you are under that mask. How else would you know to attack the nightclub? You clearly have some form of police contact." Cartman smirked at his correct deduction.

"Well you certainly paid attention. How come you never did that in class?" Heidi stifled a laugh.

"Because there's lives at stake now." Cartman's tone suddenly took a serious note.

"Funny, you don't seem to care about too many lives." I snapped.

He slammed his fists on the table as he stood up, making Heidi jump. "I'm not gonna kill fucking cops. Well, maybe not the new Sergeant, since she's pissing me off so much." I rolled my eyes at his poor attempt at humour, standing up.

"While that is somewhat reassuring, this is your problem. I'll promise not to interfere, but that's the best I can do." I moved towards the kitchen door, hearing Cartman's sigh.

"You know I won't be the only one looking for him, what if Tenorman gets to him first?" I reach for the door handle. "What if Butters does?" I pause.

The room fills with silence for a few moments.

"I should get going, before I start my night shift." We both knew what shift I really meant. "Goodbye Eric, Heidi, I hope things go well." I say to them before leaving.

That could've gone worse. I think to myself. Then again, it could have gone better. I walk towards my car, stepping in and turning on the ignition. I wait before driving off, before pulling out my phone and dialling a number.

I take a deep breath as he finally answers. "Hey, uh, I need some info."

Ze Mole's POV

I have had the pleasure of being involved in many interrogations.

Most of which in the first half of my life had me being on the receiving end of them, of course this is to be expected if you ever indulged yourself in the life of a mercenary. For some reason, some countries don't seem to care even if you were under the age of 14. In fact, most of the dipshits that dealt with me were around my age, considering child soldiers were the norm in guerilla warfare.

After all, I was raised as one.

"Excuse me."

Of course, it wouldn't be that bad as they were still fairly young and didn't understand how to use the true hard hitters.

Oh, but the ones that do.

"Excuse. Me."

Well, neither do they to be fair. My group was usually sent to deal with local idiots. Typical raiders that can be easily infiltrated and dismantled from the inside. Never anything too serious, and my enemies were usually subpar, which was good.

I actually have some fond memories of being interrogated. It's actually how I claimed my most valued possession.

"Excuse me!"

My precious shovel! I obtained it after being forced to dig my grave with it, but the dumbass in charge of me forgot to turn the safety off the gun, and before you know it, shovel hits head, body falls into hole, shovel fills hole with dirt whilst captor may or may not be still alive.

And I've been using that baby ever since.

"EXCUSE ME!" The woman in front of me screeched. If I wasn't handcuffed to the table, I would have been rubbing my currently-ringing ears.

"What? What ze fuck do you want, beetch." I wince in pain. She groans and pinches the bridge of her knows.

Yeah, out of all the interrogations I've had to deal with, this is probably bottom 10.

"I'll ask you one last time. Who. Is. The. Coon?!"

Eh, probably bottom 3.

"Jeezus lady, you a leetle tired zere. Per'aps you need a lie down, hm?" I smirk. I was captured at around 3 o'clock this afternoon. When I look at the clock sitting above the door to this room, it displayed the time to be 9 o'clock.

What a productive day this has been.

"Fine. We'll do this the hard way." How many cop movies has this woman seen? That's like one of the most cliched lines ever.

She removes her overcoat, revealing the outfit she usually hides underneath it. A very pristine white shirt that has the top button undone, and sleeves coming along to just above her elbows. Her shirt was very neatly tucked into her skirt, which matched the greyness of her overcoat and hugged her form until it came down to just below her knees.

"Hey, eazy zere, I do find myzelf attracted to ze older woman at times, but zis eez a beet too much, don't you t-" She interrupts me with a punch to my jaw.

"Domeenatrix, I like eet!" Another one, this to my nose. Didn't break it of course, I'm tougher than I look.

"Yeowch, okay, I can take ze heent. I can also see ze reeng on your finger, not a fan of married women but, anything for you, mon amour." I smirk. I might've gone a bit too far there.

"YARGH!" She yells before delivering a stiff haymaker to my cheekbone.

Okay, definitely too far.

The woman was panting as she sat down, must've been quite a lot of effort into that punch.

"You look eegsausted." I say honestly. And I mean it, I truly do. She looks as if she's about to collapse. "Leesten, Emily, can I call you Emily?" She glared. "What aboot your meedle name, Fiona? Or Emily-Fiona?"

"Fitzgerald." Emily gritted her teeth. "But to you it's ma'am."

"Alright madame, I think you should 'av a rest. Maybee a leetle bite to eat, no? You 'ave 'ad less food zen me seence I have come here. I should know, you 'ave been watcheeng me zis 'ole time." She rolled her eyes, deciding to put her coat back on herself.

"And leave you where you may try and escape? No. I don't think so. You may believe that I think you're just scum, which you are, don't get me wrong, but you're not brainless. I know your reputation." Her words caused a smirk to appear on my face, but it soon vanished.

"Eemplying I 'ad a place to go. My men turned on me, zhey are all dead now." That still hurt, y'know? I've spent years trying to build that business up, only for it to crumble just in the matter of hours. "The only theeng I can wait for eez someone to come, not to help mee eescape, but to keel me before someone else does."

Suddenly, sirens began going off, both inside, and outside the room, while the place was filled with red light coming from the ceiling.

"Seems like you won't be waiting long." Emily growled before reaching for her radio. "This is Sergeant Fitzgerald, what the fuck is going on?"

A voice was soon heard replying. "Ma'am, it's him, he found us!" I cocked an eyebrow. "What is that eediot doing." I muttered under me breath so she couldn't hear.

"Who is it? Speak officer!" She demanded until the radio chimed in again.

"We need reinforcem- ARGH!" And then silence. For a moment, the Sergeant looked as if she was afraid, but only for a moment.

She flicked on her radio again. "I need every man I can get, with me, and at least two guards on the prisoner. We can't let him escape, at any cost!"

She took a long last look at me, before leaving the room.

3rd Person PoV

-THUD-

SWAT officers were lining a corridor, all placed in position as the wall at the very end of it was beginning to give way.

-THUD-

All of them have heard about the rumours. About how his rampages left nothing but blood and death behind.

-THUD-

All of them knew that he would be coming through that wall at any moment. That they would have to face him, head on.

-THUD-

All of them were equally terrified.

-CRASH-

The vehicle breached the wall, as it did with the one beforehand. The SWAT team tensed up, steadying their weapons as the car opened.

Out he stepped, only to be met with a hailstorm of bullets being fired in his direction. Quite a lot hit him, making him stumble back until he was backed up against the hood of his car. The fire continued until every single one of them were out of ammunition.

And he remained unscathed.

His fists clenched, his crimson cape blowing in the wind let in by the hole he created, and they all realised that it would all be over soon.

Meanwhile

Sergeant Fitzgerald was cautiously moving forward, closer towards the corridor where SWAT was deployed. It had been deployed in every side of the station, but it was over here where the scene was truly horrific.

She couldn't tell what was louder, the gunfire, or the screaming. The sounds of death echoing through the hallway. It was so close to her, just down the corridor she was in, and past a corner, and she would see it all.

Her men, slaughtered, by an animal.

The gunfire grew fainter but the screaming continued.

Her men, slaughtered, by a monster.

And then, an unfortunate officer was thrown into her view, slamming against the wall violently, blood pouring out of his chest. The officer slid until his lifeless corpse collapsed onto the ground, staining the pristine white brick wall and the black floor beneath it with crimson blood.

Her men, slaughtered, by the Coon.

Or so she thought, until…

"Heh, hehehah.." Out stepped a man, wearing turquoise body armour over black clothing, and a long dark green trench coat. All of which was stained with blood, along with the katana the man was wielding. The most notable feature of course, was the silver helmet he was wearing, along with the gruesome scar where his left eye should be.

"Oh my apologies." Leopold Stotch, better known as Professor Chaos, giggled with murderous glee. "It seems I've made quite a mess here!"

A/N: If I'm leaving you lot for another year I might as well leave things on a decent cliffhanger!

Not much to say to be honest, other than the usual, but I do hope everyone stays safe during these troubling times. We'll get through it folks!

That being said, if you liked this chapter or have any feedback whatsoever, please do leave a review as that would be very much appreciated!

Thanks for Reading!