Later that night, I went to pay Doc a visit to check on my new body, and what I found was a mess of villagers and elders standing around the kitchen table. They glared, and Doc stepped around to see me.

"Bravo, Redrim. Perfect timing."

"That," said one of the elders, "is Iskandar Redrim?"

Doc nodded. "It is."

Whispers and murmurs at the table. Their hesitant eyes fell on me, unsure whether to see me as the demon that I was the other day or as whatever fabled hero they had known me as. Or maybe not me, per se, but whoever the fuck the real Redrim was.

"Join us," Doc said. He headed back to the table and waved me over.

I followed. The other men shuffled out of my way. Probably out of respect, others out of fear.

There on the table was a map, and I stared long at it. It didn't look... familiar. The geography was the same as it had always been, sure, but the borders were so wildly different that it was near-unrecognizable.

Marianna's little pet empire had grown fiercely since I had been a trash can, and now that I remembered, there was some mention that time had passed between my defeat as a paladin and my rebirth as... well, a trash can.

Lambston, the once-city state under the umbrella of the Yarsian Empire, had somehow broken free and annexed most of its former master's holdings. Now it seemed to be sweeping across the world at a breakneck speed--which normally I wouldn't give a shit, but seeing the rebel populations marked on the map and the imperial borders seemingly chasing after, I could see clearly how it was a problem.

An army encampment had been placed a few day's march south of here--likely where that shard-hunting platoon had been based. Scanning the political borders nearby, I could see better the real situation we were in.

While I had originally thought they were chasing after the rogue trash can known as Redrim and his rebel friends, it appeared they were instead gearing up for an invasion of one of the northern kingdoms. This village just so happened to be in the way. It would be, by all means, convenient if they took a quick trip for some rebel smashing before or during a military campaign.

"So... what's the plan?" I asked. "Will you try to fight them?"

"No," said Doc. "We simply do not have the numbers." He tapped at the army encampment. "Easily two regiments are posted here, numbering in the few thousands."

"So... what's the plan?" I asked again.

He tapped a nearby city from across the sea, in the far, far north. On the map, the entire region was painted white. "An airship is already on its way," he said. "It should arrive just moments before the imperial army does." He nodded at the other men at the table. "We'll be setting several defensive lines to slow them if need be, but as long as everything goes exactly to plan, it won't be necessary." He dragged his finger across the map, from the village to a separate city on the Western coast. "We'll board the airship and ride it to there."

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"Why there?" I asked.

"There's an ancient naval facility housed there, and besides, we can unite with another rebel cell."

"Gotcha." I yawned. "So about my transformation."

"I'm still working on it," he said off-handedly.

"Will it be done by the time--"

One of the elders interrupted me. "What of the political prisoner?" he said.

I was about to snap at him for trying to talk over me, but I kept my cool since he was an old dude, and also because I was curious about the fate of the asshole punster. If anyone got to execute that sorry fuck, it was going to be me.

"We'll release him," Doc said.

I slammed my hands on the table. "Are you kidding? He's the enemy. He should be executed like the rest."

"No," said Doc. "We had intended to use him for political leverage, but that opportunity never came."

"Then cut his head off," I said. "He's useless."

"No," he said again. "Killing him will just anger the empire even more, and they'll sooner take no mercy against our kind in the future."

"They would do it regardless," I said.

"But that's why we're better than them," he countered.

I deflated, then turned to leave.

"Redrim," Doc said to stop me. "If that prisoner does not leave this place alive, then I will scrap the Transcendence project. Iskandar Redrim or not, I cannot allow such dishonor."

I turned back to him, and I really wished I had a face so that he could see my fucked up scowl. "Fine," I rumbled. "I'll trust you. For now." I turned on my skeleton heels and walked out.

----------------------------------------

We escorted him far outside of the village, to where the rooftops nearly sank beneath the horizon. Two armed miners pushed him to his knees and removed the sack over his head.

Vil sat there in neither fear nor courage, just resignment. It annoyed me. "Go on, then," he said. "Just kill me and get it over with."

One of the miners cut him free and backed up.

Vil rubbed his wrists and slicked back the side of his hair, now looking around at the others with the same bored expression he had a moment ago.

I watched from far behind them, but my presence was no less powerful. I stood with crossed arms and a stance that told him that I was gonna whoop his ass if he tried some sneaky bullshit out here.

I was onto him.

"You're free," one of the men said. "Go wherever you want." He pointed outward. "An imperial army camp is that way. They'll take care of you from here."

Vil wasn't listening. He stared past all of us to see a blond girl running to join them.

It was the bread girl. She carried a basket, and she was nearly out of breath by the time she reached them.

She spoke softly to him, something too far for me to hear, and he spoke back in that same hushed tone.

It was a short conversation, something about airships and armies, and I cursed that dumbass girl for telling him our battle plans--if she was. Vil's eyes flashed for a split second, a flash I had known all too well in my experience of dealing with evil men. The look in his eyes told me that he was planning something. Something nefarious. Something big.

The others just didn't see it as I did.

My hands itched to draw out a weapon to shoot him with, just a quick shotgun blast to the face to end it all, but now it was too late. Lara handed him the basket, gave him a pec on the cheek for good luck, and she ran back to the village with teary eyes.

What an idiot. She never knew how he was using her.

The men started off back to the village.

Vil glanced down at his basket of travel food, then looked out to the empty fields.

I didn't budge. I stared.

Vil turned around and looked back at me--no, not at me. At the village. The gears in his head surely turning.

I didn't budge. I knew he could feel my ominous presence, but even still, he didn't even acknowledge my existence.

He just stared at the fuckin' village for nearly a minute, studying it, then he looked back out to the empty plains and into the distant fog, and he started walking.