Memoirs of a RAFian

[Gaz]

Lettin ya know that I'm still here!

[Cloak]

Are you subtly telling me that I'm underusing you, Gazzy?

New chapter.

BOOK CLXXVII:
SWARM OF THE SUPERMEN
CHAPTER ONE:
Nitro Generation

Azguard went to the location of the fiend, which proved dangerous to pedestrians and motorists alike. The motorway had to be cordoned off, and the RAFian was sent in to deal with it, as local law enforcement was deemed unable to handle the kind of threat that this fiend provided. He had to pound the pavement in order to get to the fiend's nest, which it jealously guarded.

He walked the motorway's streets until he came to a latter on his right that let him ascending into an enclosed structure over this motorway. A building of some sort. When he reached the landing that that ladder led to, he saw a large step up to his right was . . . another ladder. But this one was longer, because the ceiling was high. Az quickly scrambled up the ladder, only to quickly duck down. This ladder led directly up to a highway, but, fortunately, it wasn't busy. Because this entire motorway was closed and cordoned off. But there was always the chance of a cranky commuter ignoring that and plowing through the motorway -- so it would always be prudent to exercise caution, Az felt.

Az saw a short latter above him, that was too high for him to jump and reach. He didn't have any superhuman jumping ability, but he did have cryokinesis. So he pulled an Iceman and ice bridged his way up to the latter, and dissipated it once he could climb up. He supposed he could have used that abandoned bus to jump up . . . but there was no way that he would have been able to jump to the top of the bus, or climb it. There was no convenient footholds or handholds.

Az pulled himself into the structure above this highway, wondering why this structure was here. But no matter. The fiend wasn't here. He would have to move onward, and meant the ascending ladder straight in front of him. He took the ladder and found that it led him to . . . another highway. HOW was this safe?! Who had the idea of making a highway Jenga?

Az did the same thing as before and ice bridged his way to the short ladder above the highway, into another structure above this highway. Az was sure that OSHA never would have allowed this motorway to remain operational -- unless someone greased some palms. And he took another long ladder which led to . . . another highway. This was seriously getting ridiculous.

Az did the same thing that he did twice before. Only this time, he fell down into an open manhole. He didn't do it by accident, but dived down and landed in what appeared to be another building-like structure . . . only to realize that this was just a platform. Over another highway. What the heck was with this place? Was it a highway funhouse? A highway graveyard?

Az dropped down to the highway, and walked onward. Then he dropped down into another uncovered manhole, and came to a sewer-like structure with a sheer drop to his immediate right. He took a breath, and ice bridged his way down, afraid of the drop. When he landed, he came to a hallway coiled like an "S". Then he came to a drop-off which he dropped down. The ground was bumpy and uneven here. The RAFian, undaunted, proceeded further into this cavernous motorway structure. This led Az straight into the nest of this fiend. The room was a perfect cube, and all the surfaces were smooth. It wasn't long before Az saw the fiend.

The fiend's head was like a pale green motorcycle helmet with a black vertical stripe, with a black visor that covered its human-like eyes with pale gray sclera and black irises. Its neck was hidden by it's chest piece, which resembled the front of a green motorcycle with handlebars on its shoulders. It had motorcycle wheels on its back, and its shoulders were green and spherical. Its upper arms, crotch, and thighs were white, while its lower arms and hands were green. Its waist and wrists were gold. Its shins and pod-like feet were black.

The fiend stared down Az for a moment, before riding around in its bike mode and tried to ram into Az. Afterwards, it performed a wheelie, rode up the wall, change back into his normal mode, and fire metallic wheel buzzsaws at him. It also threw several wheel buzzsaws while on the ground. It started with only one of these wheel buzzsaws at a time, and never performed wheelies. Then it graduated making his bike mode extremely fast and running a short path again and again instead of across the room.

Az just formed ice spikes on the ground in the right spots that it froze it in place and destroyed its wheel buzzsaws. It clearly did heavy damage to the fiend, so Az kept it up. The fiend didn't last very long. . . .

Az wondered if this this was the last fiend, or if they had even more to contend with in the future. Demos wouldn't say . . . claimed he lost count. . . .

***

Demos called it a "nitorosapien". He claimed that he designed it to be a stunt driver, though this claim kind of fell through logic quickly.

***

Malice continued pacing around, trying to come up with a scheme to stay relevant.

[Gaz]

Just lettin ya know I'm still around. lol

[Cloak]

Ah.

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWO:
A Forgotten Remnant

Malice had gone to investigate some debris, which had gone unnoticed by both the RAFians and this region's military -- which was incredibly rare. You'd have better luck finding 209 shiny Pokemon back-to-back. Malice was secretly pleased by this unexpected boon -- assuming that there was even anything worthwhile inside. The debris was what was left from Brainiac's ship . . . and it was dangerous, in a way, for Malice. This was dangerously close to RAF -- it was basically in their backyard! And they weren't even aware of this minute remnant of something that happened Dweller months ago.

Malice ignored the minor wreckage (there wasn't a lot of it, and it was mostly coin-sized wreckage, as if a quarter of a Helmacron ship decided to break apart inexplicably), and quickly seized the crown jewel of the site, unnoticed and unrecognized by the RAFians and this region's military for what it was. She quickly scuttled back to her burrow, her nest, her hideout. She was unnoticed by anyone, which was an embarrassment to the RAFians. The military would have a better time saving face for this, as they could just through the RAFians under the bus for it.

And Malice realized all this. She cackled happily as she scuttled off, carrying what appeared to be an Assist Trophy, only slightly smaller. It wasn't clear what this item contained, as the glass dome was opaque and not transparent. But Malice clearly saw a clear value to it . . .

And she was absolutely elated -- estatic -- that he scheme drought was now finally over. This item will be of use to her, she was sure of it.

***

It was a very remote area, a cavern adjacent to where that monstrous MP3 creature had once rested over a Dweller year or so ago. The RAFians had never come here and investigated in any sort of thorough capacity, so she felt that it was a very safe place to execute her plans, her schemes, from interference. She couldn't help but continue to cackle happily. Her scheme drought was finally over! She could use this . . . she could weaponize this . . . and if they don't comply with her, then they'll regret it.

She could now do more than just send a fiend out, one at a time, in the desperate hope of staying relevant. She actually had a plan . . . granted, she was probably taking a lot for granted. She didn't have all the necessary information that was necessary or available to her. But she was just so excited to be able to actually do something, that she had some inspiration!

Cloak had better not forget his archenemy, she thought savagely. She was starting to have a rather unhealthy fixation on him, on causing him misery and hurt all that he held dear. Not to mention she was at least fifty Walker years his elder (five hundred, if you're using a Dweller calendar). She didn't really like being stymied as he and his little RAFian pets constantly handed her. But she had grown complacent, always sure that she would have a scheme to fall back on. Only to find what it felt like when she didn't have a scheme at the ready.

She looked at this item, with a glowing affection. Not because she loved it -- the concept of love was foreign to her -- but because she adored what this item meant for her. But there was still much work to do. She couldn't leave anything to chance -- though, that might be fun, too. She was just so excited and happy. She would get to be the villainess again! She had been sidelined so much! Oh, how she missed committing acts of her namesake! She should have gotten out and been proactive a LONG time ago!

Now, it would be time to get to work.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER THREE:
The Kandidorians*

Kandidor was a bottled city of eighty or so individuals of varying ages. Kandid was never a big city, even before . . . the incident. It wasn't long before a psychopathic despot decided to claim power for himself. To declare himself leader without any input from the other Kandidorians. He called a meeting where he basically declared his leadership, and he wasn't willing to take any resistance from anyone. So, he made sure to intimidate every man, woman, and child in this small city. He swiftly began the meeting.

This despot, Nye-Mar, said, malevolently, "Oh, I know I'm not a pretty boy. But I used to be . . . quite a looker. A star."

Then he sang, not a tone of lament in his voice, but rather embittered resentment:

"I was striking suave, ambitious,
Foot to head, so delicious.
Now I'm vile, I am villainous,
And vicious. Oh, and malicious"

He paused, but only briefly.

"I had it all! Prestige. Women, too!
I was tall. Over six inch two!
Then they got a pretty bimbo to fill my shoes!
That's why I am so evil,
Why I do what I do!"

Despite outnumbering him considerably, the other Kandidorians shrunk away from him, terrified. A few of the bravest managed to squeak out a chorus:

"He was a superstar."

Nye-Mar allowed it, as he sung:

"So young and vital!"

"He’s nasty!"

"A Kryptonian idol!"

"He's a suspicious man."

This, for some reason, irritated Nye-Mar.

"Who said that about me?"

"A very vicious man."

"I'll have you rotisseried!
I'm a well-dressed freak
With a tweak.
A political murderer.
You think you're badder than me?
I've never heard of ya!
I'm evil."

The marginally brave chorus sang:

"He's a nasty man."

He seemed to like this refrain, and he sung:

"I'm invincible."

The chorus sang:

"He's ghastly!"

He smiled at that, and then sung:

"I'm un-minceable.
I'm un-washable.
Un-rinseable.
Like an abandoned school,
I have no principle!
All of you Kandidorian dullards,
All eighty dullards,
I'll tell you what I'm going to do.
I'm going to make you --"

"Shut up now. Shut up!" he snarled at this singing chorus vocalizing, "It's just me."

"I will make you ugly… too…"

Then he cackled evilly as he left, saying, "Happy nightmares!!"

Of course, he didn't stay on top. Tyrants are always inevitably toppled, given enough time. Of course, this was all after the city of Kandid in which they resided was essentially bottled and separated from the rest of Krypton. They never found out by who -- they just knew that they had plenty of light, red light, and all their biological needs were met. Yet they could not see through the opaque walls of their bottled enclosure.

They lived as such, in a democratic system of governance, for years. They had lost count of how long that they been here. There was at least one generation born in this bottled city, but they just replaced the old ones who died of old age. Imagine their shock when they heard a voice . . . one they could understand.

"I will save you all," she had said, "IF you serve me."


SOURCE SONG: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S6DOxuucAEk

* I assume Kandor, the shrunken city that is home to the Kandorians, came from "candor", and "candid" is a related term, so . . . "Kandidor" = "candid"-"c"+"K"+"or"

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER FOUR:
Gonna Kill Off RAF

Cloak knew that he was dreaming. As with most dreams, Truth Dreams, of this nature, he was perfectly lucid. It seemed to be happening more and more since he destroyed the diary of Destiny. It was incredibly tempting to peek inside and read about the future. About his personal future. But his good sense wouldn't allow it. Even if it was just a possible future, anything he read in there could have been changed just by his decision to read it. One should not meddle with time -- even for Realm Walkers, things tend to get confusing. You must just actively and decisively shape your own destiny, and not depend or rely on some prediction someone made.

Anyway, he was watching an odd gathering of the RAFian's rogue gallery. Some faces he recognized, others he did not. But they seemed to have gathered for one reason, and Cloak thought he knew the reason. Why else would anyone else's rogue gallery gather and essentially unionize? To destroy or outright kill their enemies.

Regiaeros said, "You've probably heard the rumors."

Regifloras continued the thought, "About this plucky little forum called RAF."

Regiumbras added, "They're coming to defeat us and thwart our hard-planned schemes!"

Regitoxicos concurred, "And we need to stop them."

Regiaeros sang -- the fact that this wasn't that uncommon probably should have been concerning:

"Hey! They're coming this way, so BEWARE!"

Regimagis sang, concluding with a belly laugh:

"Say! Let's shoot them out the air!"

Regicryos sang:

"I could put them on ice myself."

Regifloras sang:

"And this veggie won't be so good for their health!!"

Regilithos sang:

"Let's just smash 'em!"

Regihydros sang:

"Or whack him with a trout!"

Regifisticuffs sang:

"I could thrash them."

Regiumbras sang:

"And then pour their insides out."

All gathered sang in chorus -- and admittingly catchy chorus:

"We're gonna kill off RAF!
We're gonna make it die!
We're gonna kill off RAF!
With a big goodbye!
We're gonna kill off RAF!
We're gonna make 'em PAY!
Their debt to us
Is coming due today!"

Regiphaetos sang, punctuating it with a scream:

"I'll . . . make sure that their lives are cut SHORT!"

Regientomos sang:

"While I call the cops to come and bee support!"

Then a Fmek in an exosuit sang:

"WHY NOT GIVE THEM THE RIDE OF THEIR LIFE?!"

Regifloras sang:

"And shank those shnooks with a briar as sharp as a knife!"

An oozy, purplish man sang:

"Let's use SCIENCE!"

Then Shenecron sang:

"And arm ourselves for WAR!"

Then Regiaeros sang:

"Sky-high violence
Is what they have in store!"

Then all of them sang:

"We're gonna kill off RAF!
We're gonna make it die!"

Regihydros sang:

"We're gonna make them fish food!"

Shenecron sang:

"And we'll make them fry!"

Then they all sung as an ensemble.

"We're gonna kill off RAF!
We're gonna make them PAY!
Their debt to us
Is coming due today!"

Regiaeros sang:

"One . . .shift of the stars and the tide is sure to turn!"

Regifisticuffs sang:

"Too . . . bad that RAF's about to lose BIG!"

Regidracos sang:

"Three . . . heads will hunt them, until they feel the burn . . . "

Larry Dunn sang:

"For the rest of their headlining gig!"

Shenecron sang, addressing some kid directly, apparently unaware of Cloak:

"They call me Shenecron,
'Coz that's who I am!
A royal pain whose diabolical plan
To close some contracts needs a sucker or two . . .
So, come on, Moreau. Kid, I'm talking to you!
Come, shake my hand.
We got a deal?
Good, because now it gets real!"

Then a being who looked like a masculine Dark Necrofear sang, addressing Cloak directly:

"You agreed to my game, and LOST!
You accepted the costs,
And now you will cough . . . up the cost!
Don't screw with me, kid, or I swear . . .
I'll take my tea from your skull like cheap chinaware!"

Regiphaetos sang, not addressing Cloak directly:

"SCARE THEM!"

Regipyros sang:

"SCORCH HIM!"

Regineuros sang:

"Let's liquefy their brains!"

Regielectros:

"TAZE THEM!"

Regipyros:

"TORCH THEM!"

Regiterras:

"And then bury his remains."

Then all sang, in an ensemble, again:

"We're gonna kill off RAF!
We're gonna make it die!"

The Fmek sang:

"It's their final curtain!"

Regiphaetos sang:

"And their end is nigh!"

All sang in an ensemble again:

"We're gonna kill off the RAFians!
We're gonna make them PAY!
Their debt to us
Is coming due today!
Is coming due today!
Is coming due today!
Is coming due today!"

The strange, blue-skinned creature sang:

"Is coming due today . . ."

It was at this point that Cloak awoke.

***

Malice decided only to allow seven Kandidorians out, all wearing stasis collars of her design that would ensure their obedience. She wouldn't elaborate on just how these particular collars would affect them negatively. Considering the spikes, one could assume that it would be by delivering controlled electric shocks. She would only allow a small group of Kandidorians, seven in this first case, freedom from their domed city prison.

Their names Rath-Ir, Lus-stl, En-vi, Gu-La, Pry-De, Slo-Oth, and Ava-Ris. Malice handpicked them for qualities that she sensed in them that might make them even more easy to control and manipulate, thought each was outfitted with one of Malice's patented stasis collars.

Rath-Ir was anger-prone, with a hair trigger. He was the built the largest and most fit and athletic of the seven. He took great strides to improve his strength and intimidating physique. He was a brute by nature, believing that physical might outweighed that of mental might. In his opinion, might made right -- and he didn't bother to know anything else really. His techniques tend to be, while passionate, sloppily executed and poorly thought out. But he loved fighting. He lived for it. But he wasn't particularly pleased with serving Malice, who he saw as weak and frail. This is why he worked at a gym in the city before being handpicked by Malice for freedom.

Lus-stl was desperate for love and affection of a romantic nature. As such, he had a habit of falling deeply head-over-heels for any female that he meets. He didn't just fear Malice, but he told himself that he loved her. Despite the fact that he really didn't -- he didn't even know what love really was, romantic or not. He just wanted romance that badly, the hopeless romantic that he was. He had a svelte, thin build with little visible muscle on his frame. As he would tell it, he was a lover, not a fighter. He worked at a confection shop before he was handpicked by Malice.

En-vi was prone to envy and jealously, making him one of the easier ones to manipulate. He was always selfishly jealous towards others that could do things that he couldn't do. Even when there was no possible way that he would be able to things that others could. He was short, stout, balding,with an obvious paunch and sallow, sagging skin. He was the furtherest thing from athletic, and he couldn't be bothered going to a gym or something. He wasn't all that attractive or cool or smart . . . and he was rather touchy about the subject. Before he was handpicked by Malice, he was basically a mail room clerk at some facility that he hated, and he thought that he deserved more. He despised being in her service, believing that their roles should have been reversed.

Gu-La was a glutton for punishment and poor decisions, and very easy to sway with the promise of food rewards. He was tallest and fattest of the lot, with an considerably amble belly, thick, flabby, flappy limbs, long, greasy hair, small, beady eyes, a large, prominent Roman nose, and tiny feet and hands in comparison with the rest of their body. He was full of insecurities -- about his height, about his weight, about the size of his hands, about his hair, about his gluttony --  and he worked the night shift as a janitor for an office building when he was handpicked by Malice. He was pretty much the only one that isn't outright hostile toward Malice's control, and being forced into her service.

Slo-Oth was one who preferred the easier way of doing things and more hedonistic pursuits in life, preferring not to have to break a sweat for anything. He was a lanky man with long arms -- longer than his legs, short hair, and a blunt sort of face. who seemed to be perpetually tired, despite never doing anything to warrant such exhaustion nor putting forth any more effort then what was needed. He worked at a cafe when he was handpicked by Malice, which half of the time, he made poorly thought through excuses as to why. Naturally . . . he wasn't employed very much. He wasn't very thrilled to be in Malice's service, but was willing to do it to be free of the dome.

Ava-Ris never could have enough, he had to have more and more -- be it materialistic needs or new things to experience -- he always hungered for more. What he had was never enough. He always wanted to have more, to experience it all. It was rather hedonistic in a way. Ava-Ris was of medium build, average height, and short-cropped hair. He was also a workaholic, earning more and more currency so he get the materialistic things or experience new things and new services. When Malice handpicked him, he was working at his fourth job -- which he really didn't need to work, with the system of representative democracy that they had in place. One that hadn't devolved into an oligarchy or plutocracy yet. He was secretly excited to leave Kandidor, to experience new things, he didn't care that he was in forced servitude to Malice.

And Pry-De was probably the most difficult one of the lot -- he had copious amounts of hubris. Excessive pride. He managed his own small business, which was one source of pride. He was also the father of four, which was another source of this pride. He worked hard, as both a business owner and a father. He worked hard, with his wife, to make a home and a comfortable living. He was a moderate weight, height, and build, with a buzz cut. When Malice handpicked him, he was the only one of the seven who resisted. But, in the end, he went along with it when she threatened his family, but he secretly resented her for it.

Malice also held Kandidor above the seven, threatening to destroy it without a second thought if they showed even a moment's hesitation. There were seventy-three individuals left inside, and none were infants, though there were several children. She also refused to elaborate how she managed to unshrink these seven and return them to their normal sizes. She deftly outfitted them with the collars, and demanded loyalty and utmost diligence in whatever she commanded.

They had to agree.


SOURCE SONG: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kzaTxSLzP6A

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER FIVE:
The Price of Disobedience

Malice waited until all seven had managed to absorb enough of Earth's sunlight to be effective for her goals. See, she knew and understood Kryptonian physiology as well as Cloak himself did. The seven were not too fussed about this waiting around, and when they got their powers, when they manifested, Malice decided to wait a bit further while they became accustomed to them.

Superhuman strength. Invulnerability. True flight. Superhuman speed. X-ray vision. Heat vision. Telescopic vision. Microscopic vision. Superhuman hearing. Super breath. Superhuman stamina. A healing factor. All of which could be useful to Malice.

Rath-Ir certainly reveled in these powers, being the clear strongest of the seven. Pry-De was resistant to them, believing he never needed powers to be or do want he wanted or get what he needed. Lus-Stl hoped that it would impress Malice enough to give him the time of day, he was convincing himself of a devotion to her. En-Vi reveled in these powers, though he secretly wished that none of the others got them and he was special in this regard. Slo-Oth was less than enthused as it meant that he was expected to do more, even more than he wanted to do. Gu-La was unsure about this development, and felt even more insecure about his performance with these new powers. Ava-Ris relished this. as these powers offered all new gains, in both experience and materialistic gains.

Malice allowed them to revel and cavort in their newfound powers, and learn to control them for only a moment before reining them it, calling them back. Rath-Ir's discovery of his powers made him arrogant, and dismissive of the person who freed him from Kandidor.

"You don't order me around, ya old bitty!" he snarled.

"'Old bitty'?" Malice said, with honeyed tones. This was a clear indicator that there was something wrong, but Rath-Ir was too full of his own ego and arrogance to notice. The other six did, and visibly recoiled away from him. He snorted, "You cowards. We could break her in two. It would only take one of us!"

"Have you forgotten our deal?" Malice asked, with venomous sweetness.

"I have changed the deal," he sneered. "Pray that I don't change it again."

Malice raised an eyebrow -- she was noticeably smaller than him, but she exuded an aura of fearsome intimidation. Something that Rath-Ir didn't seem to pick up on. She gave a twittering, girlish laugh, "You changed the deal?"

"I have, you old bat," he said.

"'Old bat', am I?" Malice said, dropping the honeyed tones. It was a bit of an insult to a Realm Walker to refer to them as a form that they they are not. Malice was a Tasmanian devil, not a bat. The two things were not even that similar other than being mammals. "You forget, Dweller, just WHO holds the cards here."

"You can't do anything to me!" he scoffed belligerently, with a deep, belly laugh to match. "Even your dumb shock collar can't hurt me!"

At this, Malice smiled, "Why my dear Kryptonian . . . whoever told you that they were shock collars?"

Rath-Ir's arrogant grin faltered. It was true that no one told them what the collars would do, and Malice still wouldn't.

"I guess a demonstration is in order," she said, her malicious smile grew as Rath-Ir's faltered. "I must admit, you clearly were a poor choice. That's my mistake, I'll acknowledge that."

"What are you going to --" Rath-Ir began.

"Make an example out of you," Malice said, raising her hand, pulsating with a less volatile form of her energy. The collar . . . reacted. Veins all over Rath-Ir appeared, glowing a radioactive green for a bit. Then it transitioned, very quickly, into red, blue, white, reddish-green, gold, silver, and into a jewel's opulence. While this was happening, his muscle mass was decreasing exponentially until he was severely emaciated. And this process was deliberately painful -- an excruciating amount of pain -- designed as a powerful punishment to make the collar-wearer regret of having defied Malice. Then the veins turned pink, black, orange, and periwinkle, before going back to that virulent shade of green.

Rath-Ir's mouth worked, as if he wanted to say something, to beg forgiveness. But his voice was long lost. Even if he could speak, Malice was not one for mercy. She only ever was willing to show mercy, if she found it entertaining. And she never found mercy entertaining, but found, conversely, mercy disgusting and those that practice it weak and pathetic.

Rath-Ir was now dead. His death was slow and excruciating, with him regretting his arrogant rhetoric and finding himself welcoming death when it finally came to him. His body was so emaciated that it appeared his skin was stretched tightly over his skeleton. He breathed no more, his heart beat no more, and his corpse became dead. Unlike Cloak, the fact that Dwellers leave behind remains when they die didn't unnerve or disturb her. Rather, it just disgusted her and reinforced her belief that Dwellers were dirty, lesser beings.

She turned to the remaining six, and said, returning to her sickly honeyed tones, "Remember this demonstration, dearies. Lest it happen to you, as well."

The threat had landed, as she stripped Rath-Ir's corpse of the collar. Without turning around, after distributing a single sheet of paper to each one of the six. Then, without looking at them or turning around, she said, "You have your lists. Go and fetch the items on them. Do not fail me. Unless . . ."

She gestured to Rath-Ir's remains. The message conveyed was clear as crystal to all six.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER SIX:
ATTENTION, RAFIANS! MY MINIONS ARE IGNORING YOU!

Lus-Stl was disturbed by Malice's callousness, but he dismissed it as surface-level cruelty. He still told himself -- unconsciously, of course -- that he was in love with Malice, that she would change by his love. He was so determined to believe this, that he was willing to ignore the obvious, making excuses for her. Lus-Stl didn't know what love was, but he was so desperate for it, he was willing to ignore anything that contradicted his fantasy. He rejected anything that interfered with his determined false reality.

For his self-proclaimed love, he would do what she asked of him, though she frightened him with her disregard for his life and the lives of the others. This should have tipped him off that any relationship with her would not be anything remotely resembling a healthy one. He was falling for the very same trap that Ab found himself in. But, unlike the late hippo Realm Walker, Lus-Stl wasn't about to shake him from the fantasy. He was in far too deep -- and he was that way due to burying himself that deep, deliberately.

He proved himself loyal to his "love" by easily obtaining the components that she desired. He gathered it with deft skill and excellent time. He delivered them to Malice in a timely matter. Malice was aware of his manufactured infatuation with her, and -- instead of firmly dispelling this ridiculous notion, telling him that she would never see him in any sort of romantic light as she believe romance was for fools and nitwits -- she did the very same thing she did with Ab. She played into his fantasy, she pretended that she might be interested in him romantically, despite not having a chance. It made him more useful, less likely to fail her.

Not to mention that she found it fun, especially as he was the only one that didn't arouse attention for stealing their part of the components she needed. Something that actually pleased Malice.

***

En-Vi was quite off-put by Malice's cruelty. But he knew better than evoke her ire. He did not envy Rath-ir, and it was a novel feeling. If anything, he envied those that still resided within the bottled city of Kandidor. He regretted ever coming here. He knew very well that his life was forfeit if he made even the smallest mistake. He sorely envied those that didn't have to suffer this burden, and wondered why he was so foolhardy to agree to this . . . though Malice might have killed him on the spot, had he refused. . . .

He was so worried of meeting the same fate as Rath-Ir, he was hesitating in collecting the necessary components. He severely envied anyone not in this position, wishing that he was them and they were he. He was discrete in getting the components, but not that discrete in avoiding the security cameras. He didn't even stop to consider them, and his theft raised the notice of the GH who was walking by on his way home from work -- where they made him wear that damn mascot outfit again. He barely registered what was happening, considering he had his mind on other matters. And not other works, but the . . . things that happened*. He was still parsing it out together. He hadn't really told anyone about it yet.

But when he saw En-Vi fly away from the store he stole the components from, GH knew at once that this was RAFian business. Granted, it was too late to really do anything about it. He would have to report it to the others in any case. It was always something, wasn't it?

***

Gu-La was unable to look away when he saw Rath-Ir die. He was still numb from bearing witness . . . he was still in quite a deal of shock from the death. He was terrified of Malice now. He was a glutton for punishment, it was true. But that was usually due to his own ineptitude and insecurities, his own poor decisions. He was cognizant of this, and he was deathly afraid of failing Malice. He didn't want to die. He especially didn't want die like . . . like that! He couldn't fail, but he wasn't the most coordinated being in existence -- he was quite clumsy, and this petrified him.

He was quickly found out when he stumbled with the components, his fingers fumbling with the delicate components. He dropped one or two of them and they, fortunately, didn't break. If they did . . . Gu-La didn't want to consider the consequences. He didn't want to know the dire ramifications. He was already terrified as it was. His hands were shaking, he nearly dropped the components, and they were delicate instruments. He hadn't a clue what Malice intended to use them for, and he didn't want to know.

But his clumsy fumbling had alerted someone relatively nearby. Hunter was coming to investigate, having heard the fumbling with the small, sensitive items. Hunter easily noticed the evidence of a break-in. And he caught Gu-La's scent, but the Kryptonian's super hearing heard Hunter's approach. He panicked a little, and made a hurried decision. The prudent thing would have probably to use the doors, but, in his panic, he just burst through the roof and fled directly toward Malice's little nest. However, Hunter couldn't fly, and the scent was out of range of his nose, as Gu-La decided to fly that high up and Hunter's eyesight wasn't superhuman. But he would have to report this to the others.

***

Pry-De realized immediately what kind of company he was keeping with the death of Rath-Ir. He had looked away, unable to bear witness of this depraved death. No one deserved to die in such a way. Not even the most vitiated, the most debased, the most vile individual deserved such a horrid, execrable, abominable end! The mere fact that Pry-De was forced to serve such a monster . . . it sickened him in a way that no one else could know, lest they been enslaved to a similar master. He would never be able to look his wife or children in the eye now. This was shameful servitude.

He hated himself for this, but he had to do this or die. And, despite the state of mind he was in, he didn't want to die. He wanted to live -- even if it was in shame, he wanted to live. But . . . still . . . he hated himself. He hated himself for even accepting this servitude. Then he reminded himself that he did this to protect his family -- she threatened to kill them, as well. His hand were tied. This was a Hobson's choice -- a choice that was no choice. He didn't just hate himself, he loathed himself.

Perhaps, subconsciously, he wanted to fail. Which is why his hesitation in getting out with the components that witch wanted was enough to attract the attention of Cloak, who witnessed him speed away on foot. He didn't fly -- almost as if he wanted someone to catch him. Almost as if he wanted to fail, despite knowing what would happen to him if he did. Was it an accident or self-sabotage? It was hard to tell, and he would never admit to the latter. But he knew that they all were just expendable to Malice. It was just a matter of time before their usefulness to her would have ended. . . . It was just a matter of time. He knew that his days were numbered, but he didn't want to admit it. He still had so much to live for . . . his wife, his children . . . what would they think of him? What would they think of him, for what he was being forced to do?

***

Slo-Oth's breathing was ragged now. He was experiencing more fear than he had ever cared to. All he wanted to do was do things that he wanted to do, pursuit hedonistic activities that were very pleasurable to him. He didn't want to work hard or otherwise. He only cared about doing what he wanted to do, and now there was this. This . . . this thing hovering over him. If he wasn't careful, then Rath-Ir's fate would be his, and he really had no interest in enduring that fate. He felt his body shaking from fear -- and he really found that he didn't like feeling terror.

Why did he go for this? Did he honestly believe that she would just allow him to do what he wanted? Did he honestly believe that she was truly offering him freedom? . . . Yes. Yes, he did. And he was a fool for it, he thought harshly. He should have known better. His parents had always warned him of such people -- but he never believed that he would fall for something so stupid. And, yet, here he was, with this poor decision. Now he hadn't any other option but complete and utter compliance to a being with questionable sanity and even more questionable morality and ethics.

He never noticed that green anole lizard, that clung toward where the ceiling met the upper wall, as his mind was already full of enough things. He was unaccustomed to this amount of activity. His movements tended toward the sluggish and clumsy, and why would he even concern himself with such an inconsequential creature. He got what he came for, all the components Malice wanted, and he left. He never noticed that the lizard was looking at him with far more intelligence than it should have had. . . . because it was Underseen.

***

Ava-Ris wanted new experiences or materialistic gains. But what he didn't want was that experience. And this was the first time that he ever known not to experience something. But, seeing Rath-Ir's death and how . . . heartless and indifferent she was towards it. She acted as if it was nothing . . . that's all their lives meant to her  . . . nothing. They were all expendable to her . . . little more than toys for her to play with. This was not only a sobering though, it was a depressive one, as he realized that he had no choice but obey her.

He was reluctantly gathered all the components that Malice wanted. It was a heavy burden he found him under. He never wanted this. He didn't. But he no longer had a choice in the matter. He was . . . he was enslaved. He had to do what Malice wanted on the threat of death. There was so much for him to regret in his life to this point. He used to be a great souvenir hunter, a item representative of both an experience and a material item, but there was only so many souvenirs he could have gotten from the places in Kandidor.

He was discovered, though unnoticed by the Kandidorian. He never saw Broken, Disillusioned against the wall. In any case, Ava-Ris had a lot on his mind to parse through. Unless something flew into his face, he probably wouldn't have noticed. Broken discretely used Legilimency on him -- something that he usually refrains from doing, and he wasn't planning on digging deep. And it wasn't like Ava-Ris was too guarded with his thoughts, anyway. But, as he left, Broken reeled from the information he gleaned.

***

Malice didn't really have any faith in those six in accomplishing their mission. She held no attachment to them, as she never did. Abomination didn't mean anything to her, Mega Maul didn't, either. Neither did Rumor. She disposed of all of those idiots when they outlived their usefulness, and she would do the same with these pawns. But this was blatantly obvious to anyone who had come to know her -- she didn't bother to comprehend concepts like love or compassion, as she saw them all as useless.

She went through the "masses" of Kandidorians, to select even more slaves to her whims. She mulled the potential candidates -- an intelligent, logical man devoid of any emotions; a quite rude, arrogant, cowardly man who is seemingly unable to feel guilt for his actions; a creative and ingenious man; mute, energetic and very intelligent twin historians; a caring, loyal, nurturing, bighearted man who was often a peacemaker; an artist with powerful perception; a female fighter; and a thoughtful man full of humanity. Malice evaluated their potential usefulness, and how well they could be manipulated.


* The events of this tie-in took place during the last book. GH and I talked about this. (And I think it should be pointed out that GH has written the most tie-in books at this point.)

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER SEVEN:
Some Course Correction, Some Insolent Imperfection

"Lus-Stl, you did a wonderful job," Malice said, patting him on the head. "You got me what I required without being noticed, identified, or caught."

The other five seemed to cringe at this. They feared that they knew what was coming next, but they all hoped that she would be merciful. They didn't really know all that much about her. And how could they? They didn't know much about the outside world since Brainiac shrink their city, and added it to his . . . his collection.

"As for the rest of you," she said, her voice harsher and far more dangerous. The honeyed tones were gone. The five should have fled for her wrath -- but there was no escape from it. "Your abject incompetence, you insufferable STUPIDITY! Each of you five were noticed! Not by the stupid local law enforcement -- but by the RAFians!"

They cringed at each word, able to see where this was going. Malice had ways of surveying any place she wanted to see. Kind of like the orbs at the Diamond Authority's various moon bases -- the technologies were not that dissimilar.

"I was monitoring each and everyone of you," she scolded them, very harshly. "And each one of you five attracted the attention of a RAFIAN!"

All five -- and even Lus-Stl, who Malice didn't direct any of this displeasure towards -- flinched horribly at every word.

"The items I gave to procure shouldn't have been that hard for you to acquire, unseen. Unnoticed. And be unidentified for what you are." Malice critiqued, "And you couldn't even do that. You disappoint me."

This dressing down was almost as bad as what they anticipated would happen next to them. All five seemed to have been resigned to the fate that was destined for them. None of the five were fighters at heart, didn't consider attacking Malice before she could kill them, nor considered escape -- having already wished for death.

"You . . . have . . . outlived . . . any usefulness . . . that you . . . could have provided me," she said, deliberately dragging this out. She waved her hand, glowing with her energy, in front of all five, and they slowly met Rath-Ir's fate. Was it fair? No, but Malice only concerned herself with "fairness" as it pertained to her, herself.

"Wait here, Lus-Stl," she said, as the Kryptonian was sure that her sparing him was case and proof that she reciprocated his "feelings", the feelings that he was subconsciously telling himself to feel. "I'll bring out the new recruits."

***

"The question is," Dino said, as the RAFians had gathered and were briefed about what happened, "what will we do with this information."

"Kryptonians. On a planet orbiting a yellow sun. Controlled by Malice" Cloak said. He actually had to suppress a shudder. "That's a very dangerous prospect."

"But what are we going to do about it?" Faerie asked, bracingly. She wasn't one to give up so easily. "We have this information. They don't know what that we have this information. We should use it somehow."

"But how?" Dylan asked. "How do we use it?"

"There have been six sighted," Aquilai said, trying to marshal together everything that they know. "We know that they took some components -- perhaps we should be seeing what those components used together will do?"

"Judging by the components stolen?" Goom said, throwing his hands up in frustration. Or he would, had he even possessed hands. "It could be a million possible things. We just don't have enough information in that regard."

"Why doesn't she just take over the world then?" Kane said with his usually arrogant cadence. He still hadn't learned curb his condescending tone.

"Why'd we invite him again?" Saffa snarled.

"Because global conquest isn't what interests Malice," Cloak said. He thought that this was obvious, and wondered why Kane was unable to grasp it when everyone else could. Granted, he still was relatively new . . . but still. "It's the same reason why she never bothered to overtake and usurp the Realm Walker Council. She doesn't find that entertaining, and everything she does is about her own amusement. Her callousness and cruelty and utter disregard for life is just a byproduct of it."

Kane scoffed, as if he knew better than Cloak, "So she thinks we're toys?"

"That's precisely how she sees Realm Dwellers," Cloak said, putting him off-guard. "And Realm Walkers, for that matter, as well. She sees everyone else as NPCs -- unimportant and expendable. She is willing toy with their emotions, play people against each other, and manipulate them so that they are loyal to her. Many beings lives take a decidedly downward spiral when allying with her."

"There's a reason that she's called 'Malice', Kane," GH said, in a contemptuous voice that he didn't really use that often. Kane was pretty much the only person in the forum that he commanded Leatherhead to stay away from, and it wasn't without good reason.

"So," Dino said, trying to pull everyone back on track, "what's our next move?"

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER EIGHT:
Forcibly Recruited and Confrontation Call

Malice showed Lus-Stl their replacement, as she pooled the components together. There were ten of them. She didn't give them any choice in the matter, and put the collars on them. Their names were Bra-In, Chri-Plu, Mar-La, The-Re, Fo-Ur, Joh-Re, Cri-Glo, Jenn, Fre-Ta, and Eli-Wo. They were all adults, with The-Re, Fo-Ur, and Eli-Wo just barely making it to manhood, and Jenn, the only one who fought back when ambushed, was the only woman. Malice tasked Lus-Stl with training them while she went and found more possible recruits.

Bra-In was a cerebral sort of person, devoid of emotions, with a rail-thin physique and a swollen head -- in both senses of the word. He was without remorse or compunction for any action he made. He held contempt for those he considered to be of lesser intelligence, of lesser appearance, of lesser financial clout. He considered them dirty and unrefined, and something to be avoided whenever possible. Just his luck as the ten Kandidorians around him were precisely the "peasants" that he despised. He came from a fairly wealthy background in Kandidor, and didn't really have to work to get what he wanted.

Chri-Plu is overly-cautious and cowardly man who had a medium build with salt-and-pepper hair. He had leadership qualities which quickly devolved into dictatorial tendencies, prone to berating people who do not obey his whims. He was unaccustomed to people not following what he wanted -- he could have been a good leader, but he always fell to abusing that power and authority on others. He was quite rude with his rhetoric and seemingly lacking any guilt with his actions. But he wasn't technically a bad man -- more like an insecure one. Before being ambushed and forcibly recruited to do Malice's bidding, he was a politician.

Cri-Glo was a visionary, as far as Kandidorians go. He was an eccentric artist and writer. He was seen as partially insane, and he may have very well have been so. When he spoke, it was often in a confusing manner to most other Kandidorians around him. He was of moderate build, with wild, flyaway hair. He wore a jacket and pants with pale gray stripes on them. He gave off the impression of being decidedly deranged and possibly dangerous. He was institutionalized when Malice came and forcibly recruited him. He gave her no resistance, almost as if he saw this coming.

Eli-Wo was a friendly and spirited person, with great courage and an adventurous outlook on life. He was a natural problem solver, but his curiosity can lead to his detriment. He was just coming of age when he was accosted by Malice. He didn't know why he was chosen, but he was.

Fre-Ta was a brutish ruffian of very little brain. He had a distinct fondness for bladed weaponry, and held a fascination with magnets . . . and inebriation. This Kandidorian didn't take much effort on the part of Malice to recruit forcibly. She probably could have just convinced him to come and serve her, without needing to us much cunning or manipulation. Before Malice recruited him forcibly, he was working as a bodyguard to Chri-Plu, who seeming didn't care about him and Fre-Ta was completely unaware of. Fre-Ta really didn't have any more depth than that.

Fo-Ur and The-Re were twins, with The-Re being the older of the two. At the time of being ambushed and forcibly recruited by Malice, they had just come of age, and started working as historians. It was kind of odd having two Kandidorians so young acting as historians, but they really knew their stuff, despite both being mute. The-Re is slightly more outgoing, and Fo-Ur is more timid. But both have the same thirst for knowledge, childish playfulness, slight shyness, and strong loyalty. They were smaller than the rest, and The-Re was a bit chubbier than his brother, and they had blonde bowl-cut hair.

Jenn was a fighter. She was a legitimate and professional fighter, and she actually forced Malice to exercise some effort in capturing her and forcing her into Malice's servitude. She tended to be rebellious and a bit of a loner, though she seemed to have a motherly fondness for The-Re and Fo-Re, having known them before being forced into this slavery. Jenn was a risk-taker, and not too abashed by it. She was athletically thin and agile. She was a force to be reckoned with.

Joh-Re was a caring, nurturing, bighearted, and loyal man. He was a skilled peacemaker and healer. He is a diligent worker, a meek spirit, and a devoted friend of his people. He worked as a prestigious doctor, though he didn't really care about profitability of it. He ran a free clinic, and was willing to do pro bono work from time to time.. He has a large frame and was quite tall. He was afraid of conflict, despite being rather good with children. He was just a big softie. But that's not what Malice saw when she ambushed him and forcibly recruited him into her service. She just saw someone who she assumed would be a brute.

Mar-La was kind, wise, if not a little delicate. He had a moderate built and bald. He was fascinated with garbage and how they could be used to as parts for his various inventions. He had a love for exploring wastelands to find said garbage, which he saw as free resources to use. It was mostly because of him that Kandidor didn't really have all that much of a junk pile that they were sitting on, that they never seemed to have a resource shortage. He was actually pretty integral to their society, despite him not even really paying any attention to that, until he was ambushed and forcibly recruited into Malice's servitude. Before then, he was, naturally, an inventor by trade.

Lus-Stl eyed each one of these newcomers, as Malice said, "You shall lead them, Lus-Stl, while in the field. To accomplish objectives that I give you."

Malice turned her back on the eleven of them, "As for now, just train them in their new powers. Do nothing else."

Then she scuttled from the room with her components.

***

"We're getting a call," Goom said, bring up the screen behind him. On the screen was Lus-Stl. None of the RAFians recognized him, as none of them had caught him, found him, or identified him. But they could surmise who and what he was based on context clues.

"RAFians," he said, with the ten others behind him. There was a nervous quaver in his voice.

"A Malice stooge, I take it?" Cloak said, acidly. He took note of the quaver in this new minion of Malice.

"You will not besmirch her name like that!" he replied hotly.

Cloak said nothing for a moment, not masking his surprise at all. Then Cloak sighed heavily, "First Light. Not another one."

"You mean like --" Dino began.

"Him, yes. Another foolhardy male who tells himself that he's in love with Malice," Cloak said, sharply.

"I do love her," he said, "and she loves me."

Cloak scoffed noticeably at this. "Malice knows nothing of love. She doesn't care for love. She just uses it and those that feel it as a tool to manipulate and control others. You delude yourself, sir, by forcing yourself to believe that which Malice is incapable of feeling. Malice has no lovers. Malice has no friends. Malice has no confidantes."

"I'm different," he said, and Cloak could tell he believed it. Or, rather, he wanted desperately to believe it.

"You are no different -- open your eyes." Cloak said, bluntly.

"I AM different," he roared, eyes glowing as if he was yearning to use his heat vision on him. "She does and will love me!"

It was then that Cloak saw the fate of this poor sap written on the wall. This was a replay of prior events . . . this was history repeating itself. Only difference was that this time it was a Dweller. Which meant that Malice would see as even more expendable. Cloak could clearly see nothing he said would change Lus-Stl's mind. Cloak wondered if there was any way that he could save him from this fate -- but given the limited time frame he likely had . . . it didn't seem possible. . . .

"I'm sending you coordinates," he said. "Meet us there, and DIE."

Then the communications blipped out, and was met with silence.

"It's gotta be a trap," Cloak said.

"I hate it when he says that," GH noted.

[Shenmue654]

I'm just amused beyond belief that I'm Belle in that post. XD I guess we kinda look similar in the brunette-who-owns-the-color-blue sense. I approve! >D <3

[Cloak]

 

Releasing tomorrow's chapter early.

New chapter.

CHAPTER NINE:
Triggered

The coordinates lead to somewhere were collateral damage wouldn't be a big worry. It was a location that would richly benefit Cloak, with its smooth, stony terrain and sparse plantlife. Cloak had decided to confront all eleven directly, although he had a plan for backup that he revealed to the others. Well, except Kane, who had fallen asleep during the call. Rotiart was always more useful than him, and Odie was far less obnoxious.

"So, you came." Lus-Stl said. "Where's the rest of you?"

"It's just me," Cloak lied. He was remarkable believable in this assertion. "Take it or leave it."

"I ordered for all RAFians to be here when I gave you the coordinates!" he whined. This was clearly a ploy to curry favor with Malice. Lus-Stl was apparently unaware that Malice didn't care about her minions "taking initiative" and doing things on their own, without her say-so. "You defy me?!"

"Yes." Cloak said, clearly not intimidated.

"Don't you know what we can do to you?" he said.

"I could say the same of you," Cloak replied easily.

Cloak's flippancy seemed to be getting to Lus-Stl. "You're NOTHING compared to us! NOTHING!"

"There's a Dweller saying, I believe," Cloak said, mildly conversationally. "'Doth protest too much', I believe it is."

"What are you implying?" he said, looking more foolish and foolhardy by the minute. Although this was good -- it meant that he was willing to talk, and willing to put off violence for a moment.

"What I'm saying is that you're telling yourself that you love a person who knows nothing about the concept of love," Cloak said. "And you're not the only one who was desperate to love, and be loved in return, to fall into this trap. The previous soul was slain by Malice herself -- Malice has no loyalty to anyone but herself. At the first opportunity, or when your usefulness to her ends, she will end you."

Cloak noticed Lus-Stl's flinch at this, and his covering up of it was poor.

"And clearly you already have bore witness to this," Cloak said, calling him out. "And, yet, you still tell yourself that you love her?"

"I do love her," he said, unwilling to let go of the fantasy.

"But she doesn't love you," Cloak said.

"YES, SHE DOES!!" he practically screamed. The ten other Kandidorians behind him looked at him and at each other, wondering what they had got saddled with.

"I see," Cloak said, sadly, "You've chosen to tie yourself to the fantasy."

"DIE!" he roared, eyes glowing with his heat vision. Cloak sighed, upset with the fact that he was unable to sway him.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TEN:
You're Pitiful!

Lus-Stl dove at Cloak, who didn't move nor did he flinch an inch. It was at this moment . . . music played. It sounded almost lazy at first, before plucking into a familiar tune.

GH, still unseen, sang:

"Your life's a joke.
You're just pathetic.
You're always broke."

Lus-Stl's attention was no longer on Cloak. He was stunned by that verse.

"Your homemade cosplay
Really ain't impressing me.
You're suffering from delusions of . . .
Adequacy."

Lus-Stl was still recovering from his shock at the song, and Cloak was feeling a little miffed himself. This wasn't going to help things.

"You're pitiful!
You're pitiful!
You're pitiful!
It's true!"

Lus-Stl's anger was building, and Cloak wondered why GH thought this was going to help.

"Never had a date
That you couldn't inflate!
And you smell disgusting, too!
What a bummer, being you!"

"WHERE ARE YOU, PIPSQUEAK!!" Lus-Stl roared, as the ten others shared glances. They clearly were wondering about Lus-Stl's sanity. His hands were shaking with rage. He hadn't thought of using his powers.

"Well, you just can't dance.
And forget romance!
Everybody you know
Still calls you 'Farty Pants'."

"HOW DARE YOU MOCK ME, YOU INSECT!" Lus-Stl snarled. Cloak sighed, knowing that this would just escalate matters.

"But you'll always have a job.
Well, I mean,
As long as you still can work
That Slurpee machine!"

Lus-Stl hadn't a clue what a Slurpee machine was, and that stymied him. Cloak hoped that GH would take the opportunity to stop.

"You're pitiful!
You're pitiful!
You're pitiful!
It's true!"

"COME OUT, YOU PIPSQUEAK!!" he roared, apparently forgetting that he had powers. Jenn didn't realized that her collar suddenly came off.

"You're half-dressed.
Eating chips off your chest
While you're playin' Bubsy 2.
No one's classier than you!"

"COWARD! YOU ARE A COWARD!" Lus-Stl shouted.

"La la la la
La la la la
La la la la --
Loser!"

"SHUT UP!!" he shouted, sounding more childish than threatening. The-Re's and Fo-Ur's collars fell off, and neither noticed. This was a calculated risk on the RAFian's part, Cloak mused.

"You're pitiful!
You're pitiful!
You're pitiful!
It's true!"

"I AM NOT!!" he protested hotly. Cloak noted that he seemed to be exhibiting a lot of restraint. But, then again, he was clearly one of those "a lover, not a fighter" types.

"Your dog would much rather
Play fetch by itself.
You still live with your mom
And you're forty-two!"

"BE SILENT!" he roared, completely distracted. Again, he was sounding more childish than intimidating.

"Guess you'll never grow a pair, too.
Well, it just sucks to be you!"

"I'LL KILL YOU!!" he roared. "WHERE ARE YOU?! WHERE ARE YOU?!?!"

Eli-Wo's collar fell off his neck without him noticing.

"What the Veil do you think you're doing?" came a new voice. It was calm, but it radiated rage and anger.


SOURCE SONG: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cVGoOBTmDA8

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER ELEVEN:
You're Forcibly Conscripted

Meanwhile, just moments before Malice had gathered what amounted to her "third wave" of Kandidorians. She had designs of using all of them, other than the useless babies. Of weaponizing them all for her purposes. After all, in her view, that all they were good for. If they died, then it was of no consequence to her, and, as far as she was concerned, meaningless. Their lives didn't matter to him at all.

Agu-Co was in his late teens, a star athlete, and he was a brave and courageous boy. He had a lot of hair, which was stylized in a very much anime way. He wore goggles of some sort on his head, and he wore a loose brown suit, with a white dress shirt and black loafers. He had a fiery personality. His courage could go far enough into the realm of arrogance and disregard to the opinions of others. But whenever he goes down that path, he is humbled back to his starting point. He has had some leadership capability, as well. He aspired to become a diplomat of some sort.

Gab-Fr was in his late teens, a musician, and he was very sociable, having a lot of connections and friendships. He was thinly built, moderately tall, and short, messy blond hair. He wore a white button-down shirt with long sleeves under a closed green blazer jacket, gray pants, white socks, and brown shoes. He could come off as cold and icy to those unfamiliar with him, but he was friendly and optimistic to those who were familiar with him. He put a lot of emphasis on the strength and power of his friendships. He was attracted to Biyu, but he said nothing of his affections. He aspired to be a musician and to see what lied beyond the opaque dome.

Palm was in her late teens, a traveler (as much as one could travel within a single city), and very sincere and pure-hearted. She was svelte and had changed the color of her hair to pink with some sort of glitter in it. She wore a midriff-bearing blue and red T-shirt with a white collar and white stripe across the chest, as well as a yellow star in the middle. She also wore a white skirt and tall white boots with beige platform heels and a maroon strap. She loved growing her own food. She aspires to be a chef and a nutritionist.

Biyu was in her late teens, another star athlete, and she was very loving and compassionate. She had an athletic build, shoulder-length brown hair with her bangs combed to the right, and wore green and white sailor-esque uniform with a green skirt and a blue neckerchief, white stockings, and blue shoes with white soles. She. She had an affinity for birds, and aspired to be a fashionista and a fashion designer. She held an attraction for Gab-Fr, but kept it to herself, afraid of rejection.

Gom-Re was in his late teens, very studious, a star student, and he was very reliable and punctual. He was rail-thin with straight, black hair and glasses. He wore white button-down shirt with long sleeves, a blue blazer jacket, white pants with a brown belt and blue slip-on shoes with yellow soles. When he was younger, he had a tendency to be a bit neurotic. He aspired to be a doctor, and was a strong swimmer. He loved the water, and enjoyed swimming..

Ten-No was in his late teens, very tech savvy, and very smart and knowledgeable. He had brown hair, a cherub face, short, and wore a white button-down shirt with long sleeves under a closed green blazer jacket, a dark blue tie, gray pants, white socks, and purple and grey shoes. He had a lot of curiosity and could come off as a little obsessive-compulsive. He had a rather modest aspiration just to be a researcher, and he had some interest in entomology.

Pat-Ho was about twelve, experienced in fighting, and very hopeful. He had short, blond hair, moderate height, and an athletic build. He wore a yellow and teal long-sleeved shirt with a high collar, a pair of teal shorts, dark purple socks, green boots with grey soles, and a white bucket hat. Pat-Ho was a very cheerful and amiable person. He doesn't like when others are fighting or sad, and will do anything in his power to make others happy. He is very protective of his loved ones, and takes his duties very seriously. He is rather optimistic, and always tries to keep a smile on his face. He aspires to be an author.

Gato was about twelve, experienced in fighting, and had powerful spark of light in her. She had a slight build, brown hair that was pulled to the side with a hair clip, and wore a sleeveless white and pink turtlenecked shirt, pink fingerless opera gloves with an oval cut from the top of the palms, yellow shorts with a brown belt, white stockings, and pink and gray boots with black soles. She also tended to have a deeper understanding of things than people around her. She aspires to be what was analogous to a kindergarten teacher to Kandidorians.

Vee-Da was about twelve, a moderately bad athlete, but cowardly and shirks off any attempted friendship. He was extremely stubborn, selfish, and pessimistic. He has an unrequited crush on Gato, who doesn't notice his attraction. He was loud, abrasive, and tended to get into trouble by happenstance. He's only superficially loyal and a deeply hateful person. He held grudges and never gives anyone a second chance. He tends to give up easily and prefers to be alone. He was impulsive and reckless. He wore a pale orange bomber jacket with a green and purple flame pattern at the bottom and over a dark red shirt. He also wears pale scarlet shorts, pale orange socks, and blue and black boots. His ambition is to own a noodle business, but has no idea how to go about it.

Arm-Co was about twelve, poor martial artist, and he wasn't very smart or knowledgeable or reliable. He was not very serious or wise, and quite immature. Yet, he doesn't see the world as black-and-white. He was not very stubborn, He isn't very curious of the world around him, and he doesn't really question things, and he has being known to be flaky.. He wore a khaki tunic buttoned up with a single square button, a wide collar and yellow trimmings. He also wears a purple undershirt with a high collar, yellow pants, white socks, and pink and black slip-on shoes.

Hawx was about twelve, a poor worker at her parent's convenience store, and she was fairly hateful and insincere. She was a sluggish and unconfident, though she was quite blatant about her feelings. She wasn't very stubborn, cheeky, or impulsive. She's incompetent when it comes to technology. She wore a dark orange shirt with a turtleneck collar under a beige vest with pockets on either side. She also wears black gloves, green pants that are puffy around the thighs held up by a white belt with a gold buckle, and tall red and black boots with a zipper. On her head, she wears a blue helmet, made of a malleable material like leather. She has a love-hate relationship with Wor-Ke, and aspires to be housewife -- because she assumes that she could just sit on her butt and do nothing all day as a housewife.

Wor-Ke was about twelve, a poor student, a poor athlete, and he was fairly unkind, with cruel intentions. He was harsh and sadistic with his rhetoric and actions. He was quite impolite and discourteous towards others. He was brutish and unintelligent. His hair is straight and rather long, reaching his chin in the front and slightly shorter in the back. He wore a brown jacket with his school's symbol on the collar, brown pants and white shoes. He has a love-hate relationship with Hawx, and aspires to be a police officer, for the authority that he intended to abuse and misuse, even at this tender age.

Malice was satisfied with her new recruits, not caring about whether or not they wanted to be recruited. She would have that smitten twit train them to use his powers, with the other ten helping to enforce his authority. To enforce her authority. Imagine her great displeasure when she discovered that Lus-Stl took the other ten to confront the RAFians. Against her wishes, against her ORDERS.

"COME," she ordered to the children she forcibly recruited. "Or you'll regret it."

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWELVE:
Malice's Displeasure

"What the Veil do you think you're doing?"

Malice was apoplectic with rage, incandescent with fury. It was palpable enough that all of the Kandidorians shrunk away from her, and backed away Lus-Stl, leaving him to his fate. Which was obviously not going to be a good one . . . or a particularly long one. Upon being found out that he technically defied the woman he believed to be his love, he began to babble incoherently. He didn't expect this negative, hostile reaction to her.

He believed that he was doing her a favor in getting rid of the RAFians, the beings that vexed her so much. He imagined her gratitude when he, as he imagined, when he had triumphed over them. He had anticipated getting fully into her good graces. He was not so foolish enough to be oblivious that she, in fact, was not happy with his seemingly sudden initiative.

"I did not tell you to babble!" she snarled, sharply.  GH, Cerulean, and Cloak were at a lost for words, and seemingly sidelined by this . . . event. "I told you to answer my question!"

"F-forgive me, my love," he said, with a simpering servility, "I j-just thought--"

"Who the Veil told you to THINK?!" she snapped. She clearly was determined to be livid at the Kandidorian before her. He defied her simple orders! All he had to do was train these ten newcomers in their powers. She didn't tell him to engage with RAFians, and yet, he "took initiative". She hated when anyone other than herself having that. It was her right to have initiative, and everyone else was to obey her wishes.

"I -- I -- I . . ." he stammered, unable to find a plausible enough excuse and he was horribly intimidated by Malice, despite her being smaller than he was. She was at least a full head or two shorter than him.

"Spit it out, Kryptonian," she snarled. "I'm waiting for an explanation"

Lus-Stl continued to babble and stammer, nearly incoherently. This just served to further annoy Malice.

"Be silent!" Malice scolded harshly. Her patience had been severely strained taut, near breaking point. Then she spoke to him, as if he was quite slow. "I asked you for an explanation. An explanation as to why you defied my orders. They were simple and clear-cut. And, yet, you ignored it. You deliberately misinterpreted it, and twisted them to mean something you knew very well that I would not accept."

Lus-Stl didn't try to defend himself. There was too much evidence against him on this, and any argument would just serve to stoke Malice's . . . displeasure, even more. There was no way around it, and, even if there was anything he could do or say to change Malice's mind . . . they didn't come to Lus-Stl's mind. He knew what was going to happen next . . . all because he was sure that she would appreciate his initiative. his ingenuity, his guile. He was sure that that would make her love him more deeply. He was sure . . .

But Malice would have never been happy with that. Malice demanded absolute compliance and abject loyalty. He should have known this, but he was so desperate to have someone love him and have his love returned. He was so desperate to feel that, to feel whole and complete . . . he allowed it to blind him from the obvious truths.

"You disobeyed me," she said, all emotion seeped from her voice, as if it was being vacuumed, siphoned off elsewhere. "You ignored my simple instructions. You engaged with the RAFians against my wishes."

Lus-Stl, still wanting to believe that he loved her and what she was doing was somehow right and noble . . . accepted his fate. Because he wasn't so foolish that he wasn't able to perceive what would come next. He didn't want to die, of course, but he was doing this thing as some sort of stunt, to showcase how devoted to her he was. To hopefully have her grant him some mercy from what she planned to do next.

But Malice knew no mercy.