Welcome, fellow creative minds, to the first chapter of this story. This is the first of many things for me. For one, it's my first story posted on the 'net in a LONG time. As in, about half a year, at least. Secondly, it's my first fanfiction using the Cyberchase and Wordgirl settings. Finally, this is my first published crossover, though, hopefully, more are soon to come.

I do not own Cyberchase or Wordgirl or any underlying components of either show. They are both trademarks of PBS, and Wordgirl is also a trademark of Soup2Nuts.

Now, we start. Enjoy!

Beep… beep… beep… beep…

The sounds of all sorts of cybernetic constructs and monitors filled the fairly-sized foyer-like cockpit. It wasn't loud, really- so quiet was it, in fact, that it only magnified the effect of the lonely silence that would be there without them. This was certainly taking its toll on a figure sitting at the main control console.

Hacker sighed, as he rested his head on his hand. The same cycle of mental energy had been going on for what felt like full hours, now. His eyes would occasionally travel up to look at Cyberspace's vast expanses- which would only return his mind to his goal of taking it all.

What was wrong with him ruling Cyberspace? Why did everyone object to him taking hold of what was rightfully his? Fair enough, he had proven several times over the extent of what he was willing to do to get his way… but…

Not wanting to continue in a direction where he couldn't give- and wasn't getting- any answers, the green-skinned Elvis-like cyborg ventured to another question: What was wrong with his plans? Every time he concocted an ingenious way to destroy Motherboard and seize Cyberspace, Dr. Marbles would invent something to foil it, or another villain jealous of his absolutely unrivalled brilliancy would stand in the way (Wicked, of course, was the most prominent example). Many times, his former henchman Digit would help to get in the way, too. However, there was no denying that none of these would happen if it weren't for the real obstacles: those darn kids. Or, in their own words, the "Cybersquad".

Yes, for almost three years now, those three youth had been coming in and stomping on his plans consistently. Throughout this whole time thinking to himself, even Hacker knew that really, it was pointless to ask why they would beat him every time- he knew as well as anyone. Oh, to think that he always ended up relying on an obstacle to the Cybersquad's progress that doubled as a puzzle just waiting to be solved… it made him shudder in shame. Be it common Mathematics skills, or just plain common sense, they were always beating his conquest tactics with things most elementary students should know.

"Hey, Boss!" a gruff voice sounded from behind the chair. Hacker flinched in surprise, looked behind him, then shuddered. A short robot with a face unanimous with his body and arms and legs tinier than the rest of him was standing in the middle of the room. It was Buzz, Hacker's incompetent, donut-loving henchman.

"Buzz… I am in the midst of wallowing in my shame-" Hacker thought about this. He then corrected himself with a bluff: "Er, uh, I mean… coming up with a new plan to rule Cyberspace. Why are you choosing now, of all times, to barge in?"

Buzz knew what the Boss had really been thinking. But, letting it slide for sake of his job- and possibly his survival- he continued, "We got the machine ready."

"You came in here for that?!" The green man exclaimed angrily as he got out of his chair and raised his fist, causing Buzz to cower, "Why, I-" Hacker paused. Buzz didn't leave his cowering posture, though. Hacker seemed to stare into space for a bit. Then, a smile graced his face.

"Ah, yes, I forgot! My Trans-World Board!" Hacker said in realization, "Excellent! Let's test it out."

Tick… tock… tick… tock…

There was nary a sound in the room, save for the passing of the clock's hands. Granted, a bit of paper rustling here, and whirring of the computers there, but other than that, it was almost deathly silent. Of course, the fact that only a librarian and one visitor were there probably had a lot to do with that.

"Hm... let's see now..." a lone voice with a slight British accent muttered. The shaded figure whom it came from trailed his finger across the row of books, "Nope... not this one... no... I would think not... why is it there's such a limited selection?"

Theodore McCallister III, or Tobey, as he preferred to be called, sighed in disappointment, adjusting his glasses. He had been searching for thirty minutes for a book on Nanotechnology- a search that had yielded no results. How was he possibly going to improve the Artificial Intelligence of his robots if he couldn't even get a viable source of information?

Tobey walked out from between the aisles over to an armchair to sit down and relax. This, however, was futile; every time he sat down to relax- which he had been doing repeatedly since he had arrived at the library- he'd think about what he did know about AI, which would lead him to ultimately think about the same question: What was wrong with him?

Two weeks prior, he had let one of his fifty-foot robots get out of control and attack a local grocery store. And, as was usual, he was grounded for the destruction it caused.

'Confounded Machine,' Tobey cursed as he remembered the incident, 'I was aiming for the Bowling Alley.' Still, it was good enough, he supposed. At least it wasn't the store his mother went to. But what really bugged him was the fact that he probably would've been able to enjoy seeing the destruction, even if it wasn't his original target, if it wasn't for that one person who made his life so confusing: Wordgirl.

Goodness, how he loved- how he loathed- that girl. Every time he got angry at the world, he'd set anywhere from one to fifty of his robots on whatever insufferable places (and sometimes, people) were ruining his life. Nothing wrong with that, right? Justice. Then... she comes along. The city's superheroine. Always showing up with her freakish super speed, strength, and flying ability; displaying her obnoxious, enlightening vocabulary; destroying his robots and making those snobby, intelligent remarks; batting those gorgeous eyelashes and adjusting those beautiful, curly locks...

Not wanting to continue with thoughts that went absolutely nowhere at all, he stood back up and went over to check out the books once more. Maybe there was something on Psychology- that'd be close enough.

Hacker gazed in pride and awe at his creation- The Trans-World Board, a huge screen overlooking a control panel. The recent incident that led to its creation played in his mind like a record:

Hacker groaned in annoyance. He'd been waiting in the Cockpit for the refeuling and restocking of his ship, the Grim Wreaker, to be finished since those hours ago that he'd landed in this desolate part of Happily Ever After's Southernmost continent- partially so he could refeul without getting arrested, and partially to avoid being in the same neighborhood as Wicked. This time, though, he wasn't looking for anything to help him rule Cyberspace. Nope, he was taking a break from his usual hobby-slash-mission. Right now, he just wanted a place to stock up on necessities. After all, cyborgs or not, Hacker and his henchmen had to eat. In particular, the feul pipe had been clogged, preventing long-term travel.

"Hey, Mistuh," A blue cyborg in plumber attire called as he passed through to the exit, "Yo' pipe's workin' again. Found this in the system." The Feul-Plumber handed over a piece of paper coated with oil. The blue cyborg left without another word, knowing better than to ask the lunatic twice about a payment that had already been made.

Hacker looked closely at the piece of paper, as he rubbed some of the oil off. He squinted now, trying to figure out the writing on it. He then realized what it was. He pulled a sharpie out of his chest pocket, got another piece of paper, and started to take notes.

"Hey, Boss!" an elated voice blared, snapping the Hacker out of his flashback. He looked down- and, as suspected, it was Delete, his incompetent, animal-loving henchman. Slightly taller and a lot thinner than Buzz, and possessing a head and neck separate from his body, Delete was also a cyborg of Hacker's creation.

"Boss!" Delete continued, bouncing up and down, "We did it, we recharged the machine!"

"I know..."

"Oh! Buzz musta told you! Anyway, it's right over there, so-"

"I know! Now let me get by!"

Delete got the message and backed off without a sound. The green cyborg now walked up to the control panel. He then cracked his knuckles and starting dialing some buttons, and adjusting a few levers. Buzz and Delete looked at each other nervously.

"So... er, Boss?" Buzz started up nervously, "What's this thingy-ma-jig gonna do?"

"This 'Thingy-ma-jig', as you rust-buckets call it, is going to allow me to see into, travel in and out of, and interact with the human world. With that in mind, I shall find a way to stop that so-called 'Cybersquad' from ever coming here again. Then... Cyberspace will be MINE!!!" Hacker cackled dramatically.

The two underlings exchanged glances once more. Then, they started to chuckle along, as well.

Tobey entered his bedroom without a sound. Dragging his feet, he sat down on the edge of his bed. He never before realized just how useless the library could be when he had to rely on it most. The more he tried to hate the library, though, the more his thoughts drifted back to continuing the subject he had pondered in the library- Wordgirl.

Yes, Tobey's whole life was a conundrum, and Wordgirl was the biggest paradox of it all. Did he want to just have a 'bot squeeze the breath out of her... or did he want her for himself? To just make up his mind somehow, and achieve either objective, would be such a relief.

'But neither could truly be,' he thought. She probably hated his guts- most of all for that homing device incident a few months back, he was willing to bet- and since he occasionally hated hers, such a union could offer nothing. Likewise, there was no way he'd be able to make a robot that could actually teach the superheroine a lesson.

But for all this, for all the confusion in his life, there was one thing Tobey was sure of: he hated how the world functioned. Bullies who picked on him for his not-so-athletic figure, the teachers at school who never even gave him a chance at theater auditions...

Sometimes, he wished he could just teleport away from it all. To be whisked away to some parallel land, and to find a niche there... oh, what a rejoiceful thought. He wouldn't have to worry about Wordgirl or ostracization anymore. He could just... be.

This was the last straw. He bounced off of his bed, headed over to his desk, and began some new sketches. Boy, was he going to punish that darned city good tomorrow...

Well, how was it? Please, tell me what you think! As a developing writer, I need all the help I can get.