• Published 9th Mar 2012
  • 2,106 Views, 35 Comments

Maximum Ride: Cause Saving Just One World is Too Easy - Jspang

A Maximum Ride x mlp crossover cause why the buck not?

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Chapter 1 *Rewritten*

Author's Note:

So here's the deal: I've already said that I'm not happy with how this story was written, and now that I have more free time because I'm done with school until August, I thought I might try and give this crossover another chance at life. Please don't expect update speeds to be very fast, but I promise I will do my best to make them more frequent than they were when this story was in its infancy. I'll leave each previous chapter up until I put the rewrite up, but I think the initial story changes will be pretty apparent in this chapter at least. Hope you guys enjoy this.

I skirted around a flyboy so I could deliver a bone-crushing sidekick into the base of its spine, which, shocker, crushed its bones. The werewolf-like robot crumpled due to its critical design flaw, and I sneered with satisfaction before turning my attention to another. After dealing with that one with an uppercut that literally lifted it off its feet, I caught sight of Ari covering my back.

Ari, a genetically engineered werewolf from before they all went digital, also happened to be my younger half-brother (long story), and I could not be prouder of him as he tossed flyboys and hostile mutants over his shoulder. It was hard to believe he was only seven. As he lunged at a flyboy who had hit him with a vicious punch, Ari paused and slowly sank to his knees, looking confused. I felt my blood turn to ice.

"Cover me!" I screamed at what was left of the flock, not caring about the intense crack in my voice. I grabbed him underneath his arm, trying futilely to pull him to his feet.

"Max?" he asked, a puzzled look on his face.

"You hurt? You get shot? Where?!" I demanded desperately.

His eyes were full of fear as he stared into mine. "I just... Oh Max." In that moment, I saw the scared little kid that he really was deep underneath his wolfish exterior.

I felt him slump in my arms and his eyes glazed over. As I screamed his name and shook his shoulder, the noise of the battlefield faded away. Everything slowly disappeared until I could only see him as I searched frantically for a pulse I would never find. I knew, deep down, that he had expired. He had reached the arbitrary date those bastards we call whitecoats had decided would be his last day on Earth. Eventually, even his corpse faded away, and I was left in a blank expanse, with nothing to do but scream and choke back sobs.


I bolted awake in a cold sweat, still screaming Ari's name. I had been plagued by the same nightmare ever since that horrible day at Itex, despite finally being able to settle down in my mom's home. It was incredibly refreshing to wake up from nightmares to find a soft bed as opposed to waking up from nightmares to an unyielding cave floor, a tree branch, or even the ground. To be brutally honest, the regular forced reliving of Ari's death not even my first encounter with death, in nightmares or otherwise at the hands of the School, the sick and twisted laboratory where the we were created.

We, of course, being the flock and I. We were each taken or given from our mothers' wombs and grafted with about two percent avian DNA. That two percent goes a long way. We all have stamina, strength, and appetites far larger than those of the average human. In addition, all of our senses have been heightened. Also, there's the whole kids with wings thing. Due to our rather unique situation, the six of us have been the closest we've each had to a family for years. Up until recently, when we decided to stay with my mom, Dr. Martinez, and my half-sister, Ella.

As I got up to change out of my pajamas, I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. "You know, Fang, this has the potential to become both awkward and creepy." I turned to face the dark-haired boy, who was standing not even a foot from me before I noticed him.

He shrugged with a ghost of a smile. "Trust me, I've already seen more of you than I ever need to again." We're pseudo-siblings, remember? Don't make it weird. His not-quite-a-smile faded quickly, and his mouth became a grim line. "You had that dream again." It wasn't a question.

"I don't want to talk about it," I said stubbornly.

Fang grunted and shrugged again. "Dinner," he finished in his trademarked terse manner.

I glanced outside to see the sun beginning to set far out on the horizon. So my circa-whatsit rhythm's a bit off. Sue me.

As I descended the stairs behind Fang and entered the kitchen, I felt like I was walking into a war zone. This was nothing new, though. Every dinner at Mom's house for the past two months has been the same. At least she had finally taken our appetites into account. There was enough food on the table to feed a small army, or six birdkids, two normal people, and a small, black terrier who insisted that he sit at the table. That food didn't remain intact for long, though. Whether it was being shoveled into a flock member's mouth or thrown at another flock member, everything was being used, for better or for worse.

The flock makes for a strange bunch. For starters, there's me, Max, the de facto and semi-reluctant leader of our motley crew. Fang is the closest I have to a second-in-command and basically embodies the tall, dark, and handsome stereotype. Iggy is tall even by our standards, pale, and completely blind due to a failed whitecoat experiment. Us three are the oldest at fourteen. Nudge is the next oldest. The eleven-year-old is a sort of mocha-colored chatterbox who literally never... shuts... up. The Gasman is an eight-year-old with an affinity for explosions that gets him and Iggy into way too much trouble. Also, never stand downwind of him... ever. There's a reason he has the name he does. Finally, we have Angel. She and Gazzy are the only ones among us related by blood, and it shows. If Gazzy was female and not disgusting, he'd basically be Angel. The six-year-old, however, can be scarily manipulative when she wants to be, due to her ability to read and even influence minds to a varying degree. So yeah. That's essentially us.

"Could someone pass me the potatoes?" Total asked, lifting his muzzle momentarily from what used to be a steak.

Oh, that's right. We also have a mutant dog named Total who can speak fluent English. Don't question it. Everyone in our family is super weird. The only remotely normal members are Ella and Dr. Martinez.

I smiled to myself as well as I could while I stuffed my face and watched the chaos unfold. After the hell our lives have been up to this point, it was wonderfully nice for the worst of our problems to be whose turn it is to clean the kitchen. That said, I was still gonna try anything in my power to get out of it.

Finally, dinner came to an end, and I was unable to weasel my way out of cleaning up. Joy. However, I was filled with hope as I spotted Nudge walking to me. Perhaps I was to be saved from this torture by a loving sibling.

"Hey Max, I got that 'homework' you asked me to do. Good luck with the dishes."

So much for sisterly love. I pocketed the sheets of paper she handed me, grateful that she at least waited until no one was around to ask about the homework I had apparently assigned her.


It took about half an hour to clean up after everyone (mostly due to our less-than-stellar eating habits). When I finally finished, I retreated to Ella's and my shared bedroom to go over the "homework" that I had received from Nudge. Luckily, Ella was currently helping my mom with some random chores, so I was able to read privately.

You see, Itex has a nasty habit of funding hellholes like the School, so we don't really like the company all that much. On top of that, Itex was never fully dissolved. All we managed to do was put its CEO behind bars. Because of that, I had asked Nudge to keep an eye out for the mega corporation's sinister-sounding schemes through a high-tech laptop that was still connected to Itex's private satellite network. It may have been a strange thing to ask of an eleven-year-old, but the kid was ridiculously good with computers, due to mutations that happen in all of us seemingly at random.

I quickly skimmed through the sheets of paper. They outlined an "exciting and prosperous new investment opportunity" known as Project New Beginnings. To me, it sounded far too similar to the By-Half Plan, a cruel plot to literally reduce Earth's population by one half. If these wackos were at it again, then, like it or not, I had a responsibility to put a stop to it.

That's it, Max, an androgynous voice in my head quipped. Now you're focusing more on saving the world. You're on the right track.

Did I mention that I have a voice in my head who is hell-bent on getting me to save the entire freaking planet? I'm pretty sure I got it during the blue-light special at Kmart.

I sighed. Not now, Voice.

About ten minutes later, I had gathered the flock in my room and briefed them on the situation. We had each packed a small bag in case of an emergency, and were all anxious to make the day... day-and-a-half-long journey. The papers hadn't really said anything important other than the location and time of a demonstration not far from here. It was happening in two days' time, which wouldn't give us much time for a plan of attack. Luckily I had never been very fond of those.

Turning towards my window, I glanced over the short but heartfelt note I had left my mom. Satisfied that everything was in order, I threw open the window. As the cool night air rolled over me, I tightened the drawstrings of my windbreaker and relished in what was to come. With one last look and smirk at the flock behind me, I took a running leap through the window. A second passed before my wings snapped open, catching me just before I hit the ground. I whooped as I did what I was created to do and sailed off into the night, confident in knowing that the others had my back, both figuratively and literally.