Benjamin – Epsilon Zone #1 Level 100
“Your hollow! You see other peoples happiness and because your incapable of creating your own, you snuff out theirs! THE ONLY THING YOUR CAPABLE OF CREATING IS DESTRUCTION AND SUFFERING AND EVERYTHING YOU TOUCH TURNS TO SHIT! YOU ARE A MONSTER THAT NEEDS TO BE ENDED, NO MATTER THE LIVES THAT ARE SACRIFICED TO DO IT! ALL BECAUSE THE COST OF LETTING YOU CONTINUE TO EXIST IS JUST TOO FUCKING HIGH! YOU’RE AN ABOMINATION AND AN EVOLUTIONARY EYESORE AND I WILL KILL YOU IF IT’S THE LAST THING I DO!”
More spittle discolors the compacted sand beneath Calvin and the silence continues to hang after his clearly well rehearsed ranting. If only to drum home the fact that he believes hes stuck his proverbial landing and scored a psychological home run, manic joy supplants his recently distorted visage of scornful hate.
And though we unilaterally hate to concede any form of defeat, we grudgingly admit that that little oration stung quite a bit. Especially on account of the fact that when we factually parse his words, none of us can find fault in the tragedy we’ve obviously visited on the poor guy…
And yet…
No matter how many ways or how many times we revisit his list of grievances whilst a mind absently refreshes the gravity field, they are all situationally incidental carnage and hardly by our design...Where as the exultant man prostrated before us clearly suffers no such compunction for what he did to Peter...To Gérard... To Toni… Which in turn leads us to feel a jolt of sadistic glee at what we're are about to enact upon him.
That’s when it hits us.
The pleasure we're getting from doing this to him.
To the others weaker than us.
It’s what we always swore we’d never become.
Like Jack.
our torturer in chief.
Does this mean we are to give up?
Surrender to his justice...To human justice?
To forego the revenge for our only true friend?
For our allies who died by guilt from association?
No.
We just need to strive and be better than my adversaries.
Like we always have.
Be they imagined or real.
We will not shroud our selves in suffering to give them pleasure.
We will be strong enough to defend what’s ours.
We will be apathetic to those that wish to snuff out our hard won light.
We will not be like them and revel in pain and anguish.
We will remove them.
All of them.
Starting with the still jubilant, rapist and murdering turncoat, laying unrepentant before us.
We realize Calvin has been continuing to speak when the triumvirate rests and we only catch the end of his ongoing self aggrandizement.
“-ou get it now don’t you freak…The evil you’ve caused…The evil you are…Do everyone a favor...Please...Let it end…”
Pity fills us now, at how unfair everything must seem to him.
We could explain our plight.
Try and make him understand why things have turned out this way.
But we have tried that path years ago with those like him.
Even attempted it with him and his friends.
They still chose the path of conflict and violence.
No amount of words will ever, could ever, change his mind.
This we know.
Short of returning to him what he feels was unjustly taken.
Unilaterally resigned to the task.
A me offers.
“I’m sorry.”
Clearly not able to comprehend my's meaning he counters.
“N-now let me free and...And we can help you face justice…it won’t be easy bu-”
It’s better this way.
To still have hope.
No matter how delusional.
Right before the end.
As [Lesser Dimensional Absence] effortlessly removes a spherical void from within his skull we receive confirmation of my collectively humanitarian efforts:
You have slain Initiate Templar Level 99, unable to gain further experience due to Phase 1 level limitation.
Waiting a moment, three of me tense in dread for anything vaguely close to a positive emotion from our choice.
After several drawn out seconds of multiplicative introspection, many me’s breathe a proverbial sigh of relief at finding nothing even remotely close.
Counter to our collective dread we find regret mixing with our guilt and shame at the conglomerate of sheer cosmic fuckery that brought this state of affairs into being.
Existential abyss assuaged...At least for now...A me turns to the prostrate and armor clad Grandma Russia, to offer.
“Any last words love?”
Despite the anger and hate brimming on her face, she bites out..
“Last time we met.
You said I had free shot.
I have now used.
Release me.”
Well pan-dimensionally fuck us sideways and call us Cecil's.
It wasn’t like we forgot about the offer.
Our minds were now literally incapable of such addle brained feats.
It’s more the fact that the crafty old bat has waited until right fucking now to use it as a get out of fail free card.
Huffing, a me counters.
“You got me there love. Let it not be said I don’t keep my word.”
And with that a me cancels the skill and releases the old lady, who rises cautiously as if in anticipation of some nonexistent attack.
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Wanting to get on with leveling the city of thieving and murderous traitors, the most impatient me adds.
“Just so we are clear. The ledger between us is now even. Any more attempts to hurt me or mine, no matter how well intention-ed or feeble, gets met with death. Instantly.”
Snorting the Russian’s armor scrapes against itself as she finishes rising and tossing aside her severely dented helm, before replying acidly.
“I will not make same mistake twice.”
Clearly interpreting my incredulous eyebrow correctly, she grumbles and furthers.
“Ok wise grey man…third time...I will not be makink same mistake the third time.”
Nodding we survey the gathered rabble at the plateaus edge forming loose huddles as they talk and point, yet make no move to close the distance between us. To our collective surprise however, a mind is about to open a portal for some wholesome city...restructuring...When The old bat asks.
“What will you now do?”
Caught off guard by her non combative, frankly casual tone, a me supplies.
“Finish removing those who killed my…friends…then buckle up for phase 2 to start.”
Clearly unimpressed with my answer, she rejoins as if to a child.
“You realize, the more people you kill, the more enemies you have make, yes?”
Dejectedly a me counters only partly in jest.
“Then I’ll try to make the human races extinction as painless as possible.”
She doesn’t reply to our half truth and instead queries.
“Did you kill the little angry woman?”
Frowning a me counters.
“You mean the mage I just punted?”
She clenches her empty armored fists and looks like she wants to say something truly unkind, yet gradually concedes.
“Yes...that is the one…”
Shrugging a me offers.
“I didn’t get a kill notification, so she should still be alive...Anyway, I wish I could say that its been fun…”
Electing to part with the still scowling Grandma Russia, a mind opens a [Lesser Dimensional Portal] to just in front of City #143. Yet as a me turns to enter it, we hear from behind us.
“I could make it so they no lonker oppose you... So they no lonker must die…”
Annoyance flares as our experience screams in silent fury at the level of bullshit Grandma Russia is clearly attempting to peddle. Rounding on the woman quicker than all of me intended, the air cracks and she flinches away while the sand all around us is cast outwards by the incidental force of the move.
Closing our eyes to regain my's calm, a me cancels the portal before countering.
“I’m not sure you get what’s going on here darlin…In case you hadn’t fuckin noticed already, the world has gone to a new and unprecedented feudalistic level of shit. Everyone is so bloody hell bent on out cunting one another they can’t even see past their honeyed lies and noble agenda’s...”
She opens her mouth but the me who was just warming up cuts her off whilst pointing to her newly deceased ally.
“No! If I had left that sneaky bugger alive, he would have no doubt come up with some new way to try and kill more of those I’m responsible for, all because I killed his girlfriend after she tried to rob me by trying to literally teleport stabbing me in the fucking back, whilst I might add, four of her dickhead mates were about to do the same to my bloody face!
I gave the fucker two chances already!
SO TELL ME, OH WISE AND KNOWLEDGEABLE OLD LADY!
HOW THE FUCK ELSE SHOULD I TREAT THAT LEVEL OF HOMICIDAL STUPIDITY?”
A me that hasn’t been extolling the virtues of my lethal justice, points out that we've been yelling at the bruised cheeked woman and her bloody ears and equally leaking bloodshot eyes likely no longer have the benefit of interpreting our wisdom to the best of her under-enhanced brains abilities.
Huffing in irritation at our selves for kicking a proverbial puppy, a me retrieves a [Health Vapor Potion] from Mr Pocket and throws it toward her, trying its darndest not to utilize the majority of our monstrous strength attribute, lest my's attempted first aid distribution perforate any more of her organs.
Grandma Russia gives us the wide eyes of the recently traumatized, whilst reflexively catching the tossed glass vial before surreptitiously inspecting it for traps. After a few moments of looking to me then the vial, she regains some of her composure as she shrugs and downs it in one. Working her jaw like she’s recently experienced an altitude adjustment, a me notes that the bruise from our bitch slapping has thankfully receded.
She continues to study us silently, in a guarded fashion, eventually asking.
“May I speak now?”
Not wanting to seem petty and point out that she just did, many me’s elect to cede the roll of speaker as a judicious, if meager, form of apology. As a result one of our armored hands bids her continue, to which she thankfully complies.
“Calvin was blinded by revenge, on this I cannot argue... But if the right people are in charge, he could have been contained...”
As many me’s scowl at her, she hastily adds.
“As you may realize, the leaders of the people here are informed not so well. They are interested only in their gainink for themself.”
Relaxing slightly a me nods agreement, to which she furthers.
“Granted you alone did what they could not, but you cannot be everywhere at once, not be everythink at once…and although we have talked little, I have noticed that your negotiation skills are…lackink…”
The triumvirate can’t fault her points but one points out that she still hasn’t provided a solution whilst another adds that she might not even be aware that our own failed French solution was...Removed...Giving her some respect on account of her willingness to engage in discourse despite the unpleasant…situation...A me counters.
“I hate to be a negative nelly all the time love, but I have already tried that crap. Your dead pal there and the people he worked for robbed then fucking killed, my diplomat and…f-friend’s…”
We work in triplicate hard to muzzle our rekindled anger in the vain hope that maybe this little hiccup in our simplistic murder death kill plan, might hopefully be a lesser evil. Silently praying her words are not the false hope they appear. The canny woman takes my's morose silence as invitation, replying.
“That is exactly my point.”
She all but ignores our glower while endeavoring.
“The one responsible was Councilor named Cortez, he is worm of man and should be removed.”
Now triply confused, a me counters.
“I thought your whole sales pitch was ‘so they no lonker must die’?”
Chuckling throatily for the first time, her blood streaked face takes on a sinister smile as she rejoins.
“There are much worse thinks than death my grey friend…”
Letting the silence settle between us, a me notes a figure of oriental descent draped in a white robe approaching warily and after a moment the prescient old woman notices as well and adds animatedly.
“Here is perfect opportunity!”
Offering a brow of query a me asks dubiously.
“For?”
Waggling her blonde and grey streaked brows she counters.
“W-Will you allow me to deal with this while you observe?”
It doesn’t take long for three of me to realize that it couldn’t possibly go worse than any of us dealing with whoever the fuck it is, leading a me to not at all petulantly add.
“Fine. Have at it.”
What follows is the rather comical scene of the absolute unit of a woman clanking authoritatively up to the baulking white robed individual and giving him a dressing down in bastardized English for trying to brown nose and curry favor. Just when the triumvirate thinks she’s finished, she then lambasts the poor man further and says I’ll be making some changes in the future to how things are done and that he should pass this information to the other leaders who have been ‘too cowardly’ to come in person.
When the man tremulously asks when such a pronouncement will be made whilst flicking his eyes nervously toward yours truly, she bellows at him to run before a me changes our mind about sparing those in charge of overseeing this whole debacle.
After the cowed man has scurried as fast as his barely enhanced legs would carry him over the re-sculpted dunes, she waits until he’s far enough away before barking out a gruff laugh and returning to my's position.
Still not entirely sold on her approach a bit of mirth creeps into our tone as a me asks.
“So what, your just going to yell and belittle everyone on my behalf now?”
She shrugs before clarifying.
“Well not only me…but basically…yes?”
Narrowing our eyes one of me counters.
“I have no interest in overseeing a dictatorship…What was your name again love?”
Grandma Russia snorts and retorts.
“Because the thinks you have been doink until now have worked so well for you, yes?”
And before any of me can think of what to reply, she adds with a twinkle in her eye.
“And I am called by Oksana, and I will never be your lovink darlink.”
Nodding as three of me gladly concede her point, we bark a laugh before one of us rejoins.
“Fair enough. So who else did you have in mind for evil henchmen…or women…”
Releasing a dark chuckle she replies.
“For the team I wish, we will need to travel to couple of places…but I suppose that is no problem for you, yes?”
Smiling a me confirms in a guarded fashion.
“Not much of one, no. But before we go any further, I have to know why you appear to be willing to help me?”
Studying us for a moment she rejoins mater of factly.
“Because you are best means to achieving goal.”
Our collective yearning to know more intensifies, leading a me to prompt.
“And that is?”
This time she unflinchingly replies.
“I have lot of large alien lizards that need killink.”
The corners of our lips fight a me in the effort to climb higher on our face whilst another me rejoins.
“A woman after my own heart...All right henchwoman, where to first?”
Snorting derisively Oksana counters.
“First place we must be goink is Alpha Zone #1,962, is where City #792 is located.”
Not seeing any more reason to stand around in the sand, a me opens a [Lesser Dimensional Portal] to the zone and flourishes with an armored hand while adding.
“After you...Love...”
Barking a laugh she adds.
“Oh this…This I could get used to...”
Before unflinchingly walking into the proffered tear in the fabric of reality.
Turning to survey the still listing people at the plateaus edge, one of our selves voices its still held reservations about the current hail Mary of a plan. Another me wonders if we will have to kill them all after they try some collective form of backstabbing. However a third me is almost certain we don’t have it in us to end so many more of our former kind...
At least not yet...
On this at least, the triumvirate is in agreement.
Huffing, we mutely vowed to stop humming Paint It Black by the Rolling Stones and to leave the dread filled thoughts of futuristic retribution on the silent and sandy plateau of the Epsilon Zone. And instead turn to follow our newest minion.
To put together a team.