The pounding on the door was just getting worse and worse. I choked back a sob, staring at the hinges as they shook, the wood beginning to splinter around them.
“I’m…I’m sorry,” I said, feeling the strangeness inside of me roar out at the admission of guilt. I just wanted to make them happy, why weren’t they happy? Why wasn’t I happy!?
Suddenly the slamming stopped, a chilling silence replacing it as I heard the sounds of footsteps begin to approach from the other side of the door.
I tried to squeeze further and further into the corner of the room, a new terror gripping my heart as I held onto the drawing pad in my arms, the sharp point of my sketch pencil digging into the pale skin of my leg.
A soft knock came at the door. A pause, one that felt gentle, before a deep baritone voice tinged with something else filtered through the cracks of the wood.
“Your drawings are wonderful.”
----------------------------------------
“Blugh,” I opened my eyes, too tired to really jerk awake from such a visceral dream. Leaning up, I cracked my neck and rubbed my forehead, looking around me.
A dozen pairs of eyes looked back. From Megadon, the crime boss of Shadow City, to Lillytosh, the cybernetic tech genius mastermind, no one seemed willing to give me a pass for falling asleep during the regular meeting.
“Monstart, thank you for joining us,” the dark, disembodied voice echoed out from the spectral ball of dark energy at the head of the long table we were sitting at.
The first time I’d fallen asleep and I’d gotten called out, I’d been filled with shame. Now? I sighed, falling back into my chair and still felt it nip at the back of my mind.
I was just used to this amount of shame now.
There was silence in the room for a moment and I realized that I still hadn’t answered, looking up to my…boss and nodding, “Sorry, Overlord. Long night.”
Overlord nodded, or rather, the spectral energy that his damaged, sealed form was composed of fluctuated in a burst of purple and dark gray acknowledgement.
“Continuing on,” some of the other losers at the table looked a little peeved that I was getting let off easy, “the Armageddon Alliance faced a heavy loss this past weekend. General Draconich was soundly defeated after the newest Champions awakened to their latest new forms.”
A small projector, operated by one of Overlord’s Inklings, flashed onto the wall, showing off the freshest Champions in their flashy new suits and wielding their new spectacular weapons.
I barely paid attention, having gone through this song and dance before so many times. It didn’t matter how many Champions you smacked down, there was always going to be more of them.
Like, yeah, poor Draconich, he was some ancient draconic spirit that had possessed a Russian dude and styled himself as the returning king of dragons, but I’d only met the guy once. Also, after meeting, like, over a dozen king of dragon variants, the appeal starts to fade.
Similarly, no matter how terrifying the new Flowerpatch Champions looked with their thorny whips and aroma guns, I just wasn’t as enthused as some of the other members of the alliance.
“However, we have a new recruit,” Overlord continued, the projector seamlessly turning off as the lights came back on. “Everyone, please meet Talongar the Ruthless.”
Please, please don’t be another king of dragons. Or a princess, for that matter. Although Lady Pearlscales had certainly done her best to give me some lessons on poise before getting gutted by the Virtuous Champions.
Walking into the room was more or less what I expected. A hulking behemoth covered head to toe with spiked armor and forceful attitude. Yet, instead of scales, he had dark black and red feathers that covered the parts of his skin and face uncovered by metal.
Talongar coughed, standing at attention in front of us, before beginning, “I am Talongar the Ruthless, recently unearthed from my protective slumber that I succumbed to before the comet wiped out my people.”
Wait, comet? Did he really mean…?
“My people, that which you have named dinosaurs, were proud and advanced,” he said, and he proceeded to give a very long winded speech about how he would, with the help of the Armageddon Alliance, destroy Earth’s mightiest defenders and claim part of the world for himself and his people.
Man, so dinosaurs really were feathered. Damn, that makes all those dinosaurs I drew kinda fake now, huh? I liked the leathery skin look a lot more than this feathery chicken thing though.
I was kind of in the mood to doodle now, but Talongar might take offense if a chicken started walking around the meeting room introducing itself as him. I didn’t need to piss off my newest colleague too quickly.
“That will conclude today’s meeting,” Overlord suddenly said, making me blink. I must have really zoned out, because these things usually took a lot longer. “Monstart, please come to my throne room.”
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Lillytosh, that bitch, threw me a superior look that was just begging to be reminded how many wannabe tech genius masterminds had come before her, but I sighed and nodded.
Time to face the music.
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Overlord’s throne room wasn’t just called throne room for no reason. It was big, probably the biggest room in the whole extra-dimensional plane of existence the Armageddon Alliance had built their headquarters in.
I passed by a few Inklings, their dark, gremlin forms all giving me a little hug and squeeze as I walked by, obviously happy to see me. Once, when I was a kid, these little guys made me feel proud of my work.
Now, of course, I wondered how I ever felt pride about them. They were just little ink blots with squiggly arms and legs. Overlord never let me make him a better batch to replace them, probably because he wanted to hold them over my head. Make sure I stayed humble and remind me of my place.
Walking in, it wasn’t hard to see the dark, spectral floating energy ball that was Overlord, resting a few inches above the surface of his throne. It wasn’t as imposing as when he had a body, but a lot of things weren’t the same since he’d lost his body. If I ever got my hands on the Virtuous Champions...
“So, are you Overlord for this conversation or am I finally talking to Dad?” I let one of my arms hang loosely as I grabbed my loose elbow with the other. It kinda hurt talking to him like this, but any shame I felt was balanced by my irritation at him.
The spectral form continued to float silently and I felt my nerves begin to act up. He usually said something at this point, telling me how disappointed or concerned he was. It was even worse now, the dark purples and pinks of his weakened form barely giving me anything to work on in-terms of expressions. Was he frowning? Smiling?
I had to stop my breath from quickening, my nerves threatening to take over as my shoulders began to shake. I hated how fucking weak I was in front of people, in front of Dad. It took up too much time and energy for something I didn't enjoy, especially when anyone I talked to had a pretty high likelihood of not being around much longer, give or take a week or so.
“Juliet,” the sound of my father’s low baritone voice echoed throughout the room, filling me with a sense of calm that would be my only warning against the storm, “where did all of your talent go?”
My heart stopped. It had finally been said. The words that I’d been asking myself for months, said by the person that I’d never wanted to hear them from.
“Um, haha,” I stumbled, my world spinning, “I might’ve never had it.”
“No,” the word was a vice grip around my throat. “I remember a very talented, inspired girl painting me an army of powerful, terrifying monsters, their forms and abilities keeping the Champions on their toes.”
Yeah, I remembered that girl too. Eager to please, everything seeming so exciting, getting to spend time with her father after her latest creation beat the shit out of the latest Champions.
Dad continued, “And now, the last few monsters have felt uninspired, carbon copies of old designs, beatable designs that Champions are treating like practice for newer recruits.”
This was fucking embarassing. Was I crying? Fuck, I was definitely crying. Nothing had been worse than seeing a dozen or so Silent Knights that I had rushed get used as training dummies by the Buccaneer Champions.
“I’m sorry, Juliet,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m worried, you don’t seem to be enjoying your work anymore and I don’t know what to do.”
“I…” I could hear the raw desperation in my voice, silencing myself before I could fuck up and end up as an even bigger fool. Did I enjoy my work? What was I even doing now? How could I not be enjoying my work!?
For years, I had been Monstart, the backbone of the Armageddon Alliance, filling the holes left by other members with awesome monsters with powers born from my mind.
And now? Now, I…I…
“Juliet, am I overworking you?” No, no, you aren’t overworking me, Dad. I’m slacking off and rushing things and I don’t know why I do this shit to myself. “Do you need an assistant? Perhaps I could find someone else to help you-”
“No!” I said, feeling my heart jumping out of my throat, “I can…I promise, I’m just, uh, just going through a slump, ok? I don’t need…I don’t need you to find a repl-an assistant or anything!”
The spectral ball of energy that was my father said nothing for a moment, before bursting with a rare flash of dark blue, “A slump? Hm, perhaps there is a solution here that I had not considered.”
I said nothing, my tongue feeling like a heavy weight of iron. What was this solution? Get Mister Clock to rewind me back to when I was actually useful? Honestly, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad…
“When was the last time you left the headquarters?” My breath left me, my dad almost physically hurting me with that suckerpunch of a question.
The last time I’d left the headquarters? Home? The safety of having literally an entire army of monsters and creatures and villains around to protect me? Wait, was…was Dad…?
“Are you kicking me out?” I was horrified, but maybe this was what I got for letting my value slip this far, for-
“What!?” Dad roared, making me flinch back, “Juliet, what are you…how could you even…no! I am not kicking you out!”
I frowned, gritting my teeth. “Then why do I need to go out, huh? You’ve never sent me out before, you called me too valuable! Am I less valuable now?”
I knew that was the truth, that letting me out into the world was now a gamble he would take if he thought it would get me back to my old, valuable self.
“You were a child, Juliet. One that I wanted to keep safe! Going outside was dangerous for you then, but now, you should be able to take care of yourself!” My father’s form was fluctuating now with a dangerous red.
The last time I’d left home, I’d almost been hit by a car. My bodyguard, Jerry Gunray, a space pirate, had chewed the driver out until the Champions showed up and attacked us.
Dad had planned to take me out to places himself, once upon a time, before…
“So, what’s the big idea?” I asked, feeling tired again. There was a comfort in being tired. I didn’t have to do anything if I was tired. “Leave, get inspired by all the wondrous things the world we’re trying to conquer has to offer, and then come back?”
Dad was silent for a while, before responding with more hesitation in his voice than I expected. “Yes, see this as a vacation, please. We’ll get by without your monsters, so please take the next few months to rest. I’ll arrange a place for you to stay on Earth.”
The next few months? I thought this was going to be for, like, a week or two! How was I going to survive for a few months!? Did Dad want me to get hurt or something!?
Still, I wasn’t going to say anything else. I’d already used up every iota of argument I had in me.
Once upon a time, I thought that I was different then the other members of the Armageddon Alliance. Unique, special, better than the dime a dozen genius that thought they could help Overlord rule the world.
Turns out, I wasn’t.