Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X flings open the door to his dump of a shack, just on the side of the soot-covered Explosion Tower.
He could already feel it on the air when he was inside his very humble abode, but opening the door to the outside moat stings him like the kiss of a long-awaited lover.
The crazed minion takes a long, savoring breath of the fall air. The days have been hot up til now, with only intermittent coolness.
This one, for certain, is the day that begins the Fall.
“Ah! It is that time of year!” He says, springing out from his doorstep, slishing down the weaponry-and-garbage-filled mud hill in front of his house, and leaping once more to stick the landing in the rotting, exploded corpse of some loser hero that dared attack The High Overlord’s Realm.
Upon his landing,Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X smacks out a quick, sharp dab, and then gets right to work.
“This one’s going to be the scariest ever!” he hisses ambitiously to himself. Unlike the last few years, he’s got the perfect team in mind to make this year’s the most horrible All Hell-Ow’s! Eve of all time.
“Now just what the hell are you doing this time?” Sapper Minion asks, a banned cigarette hanging loosely between his jaws. He’s at the peak of the little hill of over-blasted, incredibly soft mud that makes up the landscape surrounding Explosion Tower.
Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X starts back indignantly through the mud as he peers up at the old soldier, “Wh-why the heck do you care, you stupid loser?”
Sapper Minion plucks the cig from his jaws. “Well you’re right about one thing, I don’t care about your stupid kid’s holiday, bu-“
“Hell-Ow’s! Eve is NOT a kid’s holiday!” the little minion snaps back, taking the care to still put the dramatized emphasis on the “Ow’s!” in ‘All Hell-Ow’s! Eve’.
Sapper Minion just gives a slight nod, as if confirming his suspicions. “Got it. Well, I was coming over here to tell you to get the hell outta the munitions shack. I don’t trust you to live in there and not blow it up – shit’s a pain to get.”
Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X scoffs with a slighted pride. He leans up to do his best to stand on the slant hillside of slippery mud. As is natural for him and his title as the most unhinged of minions, he begins wriggling at his feet in high-energy mockery: “Well what are you gonna do about it, huh? What’s the plan you absolute idiot, fucking loser… you gay bumbling asshole bitchass lit-“
Sapper Minion sighs heavily. “Look, dude. I don’t want to have to slap you around a second time this week. All I’m saying is that you got to clear out. I’m not asking you or picking a fight. I’m just saying if you don’t I’ll slap you, and then I’ll tell the Commander and he’ll slap you, got it?”
“Did I stutter?!” Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X returns tauntingly as he climbs up to the hill to stand at least as high as Sapper Minion’s waist. “I’m going to get a team of the coolest dudes together, and they’re going to beat the shit out of everyone! It’s going to be a holiday takeover! Chaos won’t even know what hit ’em!”
Sapper Minion, with his expression of frozen over disinterest towards everything, looks over to the horizon in thought as he replaces his cigarette for a drag. “I knew you’d fall off the deep end before long – you want to try your hand at the Commander?” he asks, the smoke streaming from his jaws like the opening of a forge.
Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X strikes a cool, daring pose, insulting both man and god in his pride. “You bet your ass, ya’ loser no-name. It’s natural in the course of great souls to rise over the heads of those that once ruled over them. Chaos will see for himself what happens when he double-crosses his own!”
Sapper Minion’s cigarette, hung barely on the tiny angular tip of his lower jaw, wedges down in a moment of utter disbelief. “You actually…” he stops himself. He wants to see how this will end up – after all, the little guy could live to learn a few lessons in humility. In Sapper Minion’s bright white eyes glow the machinations of a plan, just like when he was a man, planning where to set that one, mission-defining satchel of explosives.
“You know what,” Sapper Minion corrects, “I am a little bitch,” he says with a put-on smile.
Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X heaves to insult him again, but stops the second he actually considers the words. “Yeah you… huh?“
“You’re right,” Sapper Minion says, “That jerk’s got it coming to him. What are you planning to do?”
The little minion alights with pride and an immediate forgiveness as the words glaze over the roughness of the words exchanged only seconds ago. Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X looks about to see if there’s anyone nearby, and then waves Sapper Minion to come close enough for a whisper.
Hearing the plan, Sapper Minion nods several times, and does all he can to suppress the utterly delirious grin his face is trying to display – it’s not just a stupid plan; it is perhaps the stupidest ever.
Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X draws back. “So? Pretty fucking metal, right?“
Sapper Minion holds strong as he gives a firm, considerate-looking nod. “That’s… that will work. It seems unconventional, but that’s exactly the kind of plan the Commander wouldn’t expect,” he lies.
The little minion pumps his fist. “Hell yeah! A tactical dude like you would know what he’s talking about, so you couldn’t be wrong: I’m truly a genius!“
The tall minion, carrying around his rucksack of detonator cord and various munitions, gives an encouraging, entirely-faked nod. “Let me know when you’ve kicked his ass. I’ll join you right away.”
Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X nods as he passes him by for the trail. “You bet. You’re not such a bad dude after all, Sapper Minion. Sorry for calling you gay,” the small minion says with a rare, apologetic twinkle in his eyes.
“There’s literally nothing wrong with being gay,” Sapper Minion says.
Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X chuckles at what surely must have been a joke. He gives the tall minion a tiny tap on the elbow, which is the highest he can reach. “Oh you. You’re frickin’ hilarious, dude.”
At that, the little minion trots down the trail to construct his team and begin his plan.
Sapper Minion gives a long, cathartic sigh before moving his antennae about. He’s got to phone ahead and get in contact; after all, he wants to ensure the intended training audience won’t miss the big show.
Finance Minion’s opened the window today.
One might think it a deary office in Towerne’s Central Tower: It’s dull wooden colors and dim grays make the myriad of financial reports and earning statements almost blend in with them creating a bland swirl of business and responsibility. This is in no ways inappropriate, because Finance Minion is, in fact, quite responsible, and quite businessly.
The window stays open today, however.
Even if the occasional breeze rustles his papers a slight, it’s that rare cool air on his skin that makes it all feel so worth it.
An old smile crosses his face as he peers at some ROI reports behind his small, “for looks only” spectacles. He remembers back when he was a Lyrant, overlooking his wonderful desert home as the first autumn winds blew each year. Of course, he manages The High Overlord’s practically unlimited financial estate rather than grain stores and water sluices, but he’s come to prefer the peace and quiet of his safe office.
It’s a secure life, with secure days under the watch of someone who, better than most anyone else he knows, provides for those he rules over.
But the wind reminds Finance Minion of the days when he was the one in charge.
That biting wind, which his old feathers remember best as what he felt in his final week as the clan leader, hardly effects his black and white ether-infested body. Even so, he knows it’s there, past The High Overlord’s power, and it makes him just a little nervous again.
He looks out to the center of the plaza, as several minions cook up multiple pots of nice-smelling beverages – teas and fruity warm ciders, as well as the secretly-handled and spoken-only-in-whispers “PeeEssEhl” that so many of the lady minions are all up-ons about for some reason.
He spots others putting up Halloween decorations as well: lanterns of all sorts, ghosts, spider webs, witchy decor and general things that would be considered worrisome if encountered outside of the season.
He hears the Overlordship Minionry Band prepping a few dreary, spooky tunes for the big night on their wide variety of minion-sized instruments.
That’s not for him, though.
No, Finance Minion, sitting in his little office, is perfectly happy with the wind. Halloween and all that nonsense was never for him. In fact, he hadn’t seen a single fall leaf until he had become a minion in the first place. He closes his eyes with a smile, remembering the bite of the red and yellow forest he came-to within after Chaos found him out in the desert.
That’s what he remembers best – this time of year helps him reflect back on the past, and though it’s been hundreds of years, though his wife and children have all become elderly and passed on before him, though his nation may not even exist anymore, he can still keep the memories sharp in his mind.
Finance Minion takes a moment to appreciate the breeze pouring from the window a soft moment more before a knock raps upon his door.
“Come in,” he says calmly, pulling himself from his musing immediately.
There’s no reply.
Finance Minion opens his eyes and looks over.
“Come in,” he reiterates, “don’t be shy. It’s a wonderful day and you shouldn’t stay cooped up down in the office, you know. Come in and let’s enjoy this breeze,” he adds.
The door clicks, and opens slightly.
Just enough to show that which lies waiting on the other end.
In an upheaval of the previous emotion, behind the door is dense, saturated, silent blackness.
Immediately he knows it’s waiting for him to approach.
“H…hello?” He asks out into the dark.
An assuming hideousness overcomes Finance Minion. He’s never felt this way before, as in his planet it was his kind that were the predators.
“I… I’d like you to step out, please,” he requests, a short wavering in his tone.
Finance Minion looks out back to his wonderful, breezy window. Despite the calming, charming scene outside being unchanged, the breeze, that which he cherished most, holds a distinctly sour effect. His senses, wrapped in the immensity of ether around his body, twist in horror. He briefly considers jumping out the window to safety. He could make the landing easily, but he knows he must see what’s on the other side of the door.
He turns back to the dark entry. It’s especially surreal, as every other time that door’s been opened, it leads cleanly into the conjoining hallway, like any door should, but now his place of work has betrayed him, delivering him into the jaws of some unknown entity. Finance Minion takes a single breath, attempting to gather himself with thoughts of home and family left behind, but they do not come to him – it’s almost as if the terror has come alive and is pulling the recollections from his ancient mind.
Finance Minion takes to his feet and starts for the door. He grasps the handle, and throws it all the way open.
He can feel the invisible miasma of dread shattering through him like glass to pavement. He can feel its cut deep inside him as he stares down the engulfing, godless black, beckoning him within.
There’s something truly powerful about this darkness, Finance Minion is certain – even with his powerful infusia gaze bestowed upon him by his Dark Master, he can’t see an inch into the hallway.
Then he hears the deranged laughter of a small bundle of exceptional trouble from within the curtain of maleficence.
“We’re going to need some cash for this one – do you think you can spare us some change?” the voice asks, accompanied by what sounds to be an excited giggle and a then a truly, truly horrible laugh from a third voice.
Finance Minion steps back. “I… what is the meaning of this? I don’t have any money!”
The upstart voice gives a scoff. “Sure, but you definitely are managing quite a lot.” The darkness begins stretching out from the door and into the room. Finance Minion’s glasses slip and fall onto the floor with a hollow sound. “Let’s discuss the details, shall we?”
The darkness overtakes the room, and then the window itself.
“And that’s All Hallow’s Eve, everyone!” Teacher Minion says with a quaint nod of her head, bringing the pointer back to her side and away from the very colorfully-drawn up blackboard, covered in pumpkins, spooky bats, and various other holiday staples.
There’s nods of understanding and admissions of awe from everyone within the classroom, all until a single, blacker-than-pitch hand shoots up.
“But what’s the true meaning of All Hallow’s Eve, would you say?” a little voice squeaks. It’s none other than Teapot Minion, named such not because he’s small enough to fit inside of one like Sock Minion or Annoying Fly for Visitors we Don’t Like Minion, but because he is often tasked with holding onto Chaos’ tea set while he walks about the realm. He’s new to the Minionry, and it’s semi-but-not-really-mandatory to receive education on each of the holidays The High Overlordship celebrates – holidays are a big deal, after all.
Teacher Minion looks over with a genteel smile, her common, lashless eyes squinting with nothing but the appreciation of those she gets to guide through the world with knowledge. “Well, I’d like to think it’s mostly up to the people who celebrate it. You know, the origins for a day and the thematic they choose… the staples and images and songs they understand as belonging to the holiday, even, are all to support the feeling of it. All Hallow’s Eve started as one thing, and then it became another to someone else, probably the original practitioner’s children, and then another thing to theirs, and so on. That is a good question, so I’m glad you asked. Samhain, which is, again, consider the originator holiday for-“
There’s a long pause from the intense punctuation of the voice from seemingly nowhere.
Druid Minion, who always attends this class in particular to ensure accuracy of her precious holiday, rises up from her chair immediately.
“Alright, who goes there?”
The doors blast open to usher forth a welling magic darkness, grasping and pulling at anything close enough for it to grasp. Like a sheet of evil dough, it rolls across the room. Druid Minion, Teacher Minion, and some trim galea-wearing Minion, being three of the more proactive in the room, grasp at the newer and younger minions before rushing for the window, but none of them reach it in time.
The writhing curtain of enigmatic umbra seizes everyone in the classroom, lifting them into its presence, and casting them out into some unknown realm.
The next thing Teapot Minion is aware of is the feeling of the firm soil under his feet, as well as a sense of overwhelming spookiness.
“HA!” a voice exudes from all directions, “YOU want to know the TRUE meaning of ALL HELL-OWS! EVE, SUPLEX ULTIMA?!”
The little minion rises up to his feet, squinting his powerful, ether-assisted eyes to see through the blackness, and yet he cannot do even that.
“Who… are you?” He looks around as the voice emerges once more.
“I am the SPIRIT OF ALL HELL-OWS! EVE, SUPLEX ULTIMA!“
“…What’s that?” Teapot Minion questions, waving his way through the dark miasma clouding his vision.
Hysterical, disconcertingly-unhinged laughter erupts from all around him. “Oh, DEAR FOOL! Have you NOT WITNESSED THE MAJESTY OF THE SCARIEST, MOST HORRIFYING HOLIDAY EVER CONCEIVED? MACHINIZED BY THE GREAT MIND OF OVERLORD ULTRADEATH HIMSELF, THIS IS WITHOUT A DOUBT THE GREATEST CELEBRATION IN ALL THE VERSES!“
Teapot Minion wasn’t very privvy to the thought of becoming a minion in the first place – he was just a farm hand when Chaos tackled a dragon into his town’s windmill and then started infesting random people if they couldn’t answer his stupid riddle. That said, being infested by The High Overlord just a week ago and now with this tacked on, it’s understandable that he’s a little distraught.
“Look, I was just asking that to be polite. I don’t care about your stupid holidays,” he says, immediately winning a flinching gasp from the voice. “Caring about stuff like that is for women and those weird homosexuals,” Teapot Minion huffs as he blindly gropes his way about. “You’d be a fool to think I’m just gonna bend over and act like your childish tradition shit is worth my time.”
The voice takes a moment to consider this one.
Teapot Minion had unwittingly presented the owner of the dark power a grievous insult. The voice, more than likely belonging to a certain Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X, considers himself to be cool and manly – not female, and definitely not a lover of his fellow lads – perish the thought.
“I… Th… What the hell, dude?!” he mutters through the dark a moment as Teapot Minion is more than a little sure he can see some strange, orange, gold, and greenish lights in the distance. If he could just get through this fog, he could identify them, he’s sure.
“I… WELL, FOOL! GAY FOOL! I THINK YOU’LL SOON CHANGE YOUR TUNE ONCE YOU HAVE EXPERIENCED THE… THE DEADLIEST, MANLIEST, COOLEST HOLIDAY THAT’S EVER EXISTED. TIME TO GET SCARED, YOU LOSER!” the voice finally answers with a venomous tone.
At that, the fog begins to lift with an emotionally delicate laugh, as if simply doing its best to appear unhurt by Teapot Minion’s entirely offhand slight.
The Minion can see it all now.
Crooked stumps, jagged, leafless branches.
Jack-o-lanterns, skeletons, and candy everywhere – truly horrible things to Teapot Minion, who neither understands nor cares for their charm.
He rushes up to a few other minions – he recognizes most of them.
Druid Minion, Teacher Minion and another nerdy-looking one are standing side by side as a minion with a fancy jacket and spyglass peers over to a very large, very worrisome-looking house. On the jacketed minion’s side is the one from before with the galea helmet, standing firm with his arms crossed and stature intimidating.
The spyglass comes down, and the jacketed minion turns to teacher minion. “There’s little doubt. I can see their signatures in there somewhere.”
“We must save them!” Teacher Minion bleats with a tense certainty as she delivers a black fists into her open palm.
The spyglass-toting minion collapses his device back into its portable mode with a nod. “Miss, I will do anything in my power to make sure your students are brought back safely.”
“Oh, this is just like area eight of Ocean Heroes XI’s ‘Ancient Glory’ expansion!” the nerdy lass minion on the far right notes. “Don’t worry, I’ll be the healer!” she designates proudly.
No one understands her but Druid Minion, but she’s too displeased to even acknowledge her antics.
“It’s going to be defended,” the galea-wearing minion notes, nearly a whole third taller than the next tallest minion in the group – in fact he’s about the height of an average person. “We’ll have to enter quickly and boldly to rescue them.”
The jacketed minion rounds over to the muscular one. “Excuse me, who are you, again?”
“Apticus Pilate, Son of Adrian Pilate – S.P.Q… shit, eh, it’s ‘Legionary Minion‘, from the ‘War Tower’… It’s my first month,” he greets with a mild snick of his thin, keen jaws. “I serve your… our emperor now.”
“Nice to meet you. Navigator Minion,” the jacketed minion greets with a poised tone and a quick shake of the hand.
“Teacher Minion,” she introduces with a bow, “we’ve already met.”
“Cosplay Minion!” the nerdy one at the sidelines says with an awkward wave.
Everyone turns to Druid Minion, who by this point is hyperventilating in angst.
“A… A ROMAN?!” she spits.
Legionary Minion is put back slightly.
“You…” he identifies the antler-like antennae, and his expression blands immediately. His hand reflexively snaps to the hilt of his gladius, strapped smartly at the side of his thigh. “I see the Emperor allows for all qualities of servants – what a good-humored master he must be to be able to put up with your lot.”
Druid Minion reaches inside her confusion of cloak folds as she steps up to him. “Ahh, yes, he must have fine taste to allow arrogant slaughterers like you in the fold. You animals here to edge in on our land again?”
He leans forward, insulting her with his stature. “What would I care about some sheep-shagging, shit-smearing barbar-“
“Everyone, please!” Navigator Minion exclaims. “We need to work together!“
Druid Minion and Legionary Minion hold their gaze a second longer before immediately turning away.
“I’ll humor it to save the students,” she says with a pretentious gaze.
“It would be the Emperor’s will, despite my reservations,” Legionary Minion says with a scowl.
Navigator Minion gives a gentle sigh as he looks up to scan over the group. “Very good, now let’s… oh.“
The others look to where he’s peering at to find none other than Teapot Minion, waiting patiently to get noticed.
“Now just who might you be?” Navigator Minion asks.
Teapot Minion gives a short, unassuming nod as an introduction, in-line with how he and the others of his village always introduced themselves. “Teapot Minion, apparently. I’m new too. I guess we’re going in that house and getting the others out?”
Navigator Minion nods. “That’s right. That esoteric obfuscation has delivered us to various points throughout this strange realm…” he begins looking around. “It seems… a bit festive, don’t you think?”
Teacher Minion nods and Druid Minion closes her eyes with an air of indignancy. “Well, clearly it’s based on our little corruption of Samhain.”
“I was meaning to ask about that,” Teapot Minion asks with a slight frown, “I’ve never heard of any of this shit before I ‘joined’ up with you all. What’s the big deal about this holiday in the first place?”
“Commit rights and acknowledge the spirits,” Druid Minion notes.
“It’s whatever you want it to be,” Teacher Minion claims.
“To eat candy and have fun… a-and to dress up in slutty outfits!” Cosplay Minion explains with an uneven tone.
“To sacrifice the innocent for their inane rituals,” Legionary Minion says.
Navigator Minion is the only one that gives a shrug with his answer. “It’s an excuse to bring people together, like anything, really,” he says with a mild tone.
Teapot Minion sighs at it all. “We only ever had harvest and planting festivals. I don’t get all of this candy and pumpkins and such. It seems like a waste to m-“
“Get spooked!” a youthful cackle exclaims.
A massive, flaming, laughing skull flies at them from above.
Everyone dodges aside except for Teacher Minion, who is caught and pulled over by Druid Minion in the last available second.
The skull explodes in a violent blast of seasonal energy.
“Wh-what in blazes was that?!” Navigator Minion blurts as they look up.
On a sick broom blurting out a comfy trail of golden-brown, PSL-scented smoke, none other than Witch Minion rounds the corner with her massive hat and sparkling wand in tow.
“Wa-ha-ha-ha! Time to spread some Halloween Cheer!” she says with an unusually youthful laugh. She brandishes her hand at the ready as the minions all brace for movement.
“Wh-what is the meaning of this?!” Teacher Minion demands. “Give me back my students!”
Witch Minion leans back coolly onto her broom, exuding a uniquely witchy form of sensuality that is fully inhibited by the borderline cartoony proportions of her black and white ether body. “No can do, teach! As a matter of fact I’m certain we’ll be spooking the living heck out of your pupils. That is how a holiday becomes infamous, you know!” she says this with a wink as she gently floats up and down on her broom.
Both Teapot and Legionary Minion share a wearied, disgusted glance. They’re both wondering just why the hell all of this is so important.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but we’re setting you and all your cronies straight,” Navigator Minion snaps with a decisive, heroic point to the ground.
Witch Minion nearly keels off her broom with laughter. “Oh, poor children! Please, don’t fuss! Step on in and see for yourself how undefeatable the greatest of all holidays truly is!” Without a word of edgewise left for those below her, she turns stem and zips off into the glowing clouds of October enchantment spiraling across the sky.
Though none of them are particularly pleased about all of this, Druid Minion appears especially livid.
“Just who in Dagda’s sweet name was that?! What is wrong with people today?! This is my holiday!”
“Now Druid Minion,” Teacher Minion offers sweetly, “despite everything we can’t let their actions control us. We are going to save the students and then we’re going to have a calm, considerate talk with them, make sure we understand why they did it, and th-“
Her measured tone is cut short by the gladius being pulled an inch from Legionary Minion’s hilt. “The time for action has come. We will crucify them all for the glory of the Emperor.”
Druid Minion double takes to Legionary Minion, as if he had suddenly transformed. “Now that is a plan I can get behind. Let’s crush these fools!”
Legionary Minion draws his blade, firm in his grip and ready for the white blood of his fellow minion. “Charge!“
At that, the two rush forward faster than Teacher, Navigator, and Cosplay Minions can keep up, and faster than Teapot Minion would care to go in general.
“Yeah, you all have fun,” the little minion encourages with a short, careless wave.
Navigator Minion stomps his feet cutely. “Oh waffles! Wait up you two!” he shouts to no effect.
In only seconds the two rushing minions reach the doorway to the manor and bust inside, leading immediately to what must be at least a hundred spooky sounds and lights emanating all at once before returning to its general atmosphere of eeriness.
“Wow,” Cosplay Minion says with a hum. “That looks like a lot of fun.”
Teacher Minion gives a good-natured, though exasperated sigh. “Well, I suppose we simply have to go in and help,” she says with a steadily-shortening tone.
The remaining four trot forward as they’re treated to spooky xylophone music and generic scary soundtracks, like cackling witches and howling ghosts.
Reaching the front of the house, Navigator Minion takes up the front of the porch facing the door before turning to glance at the others.
“Alright. From here on I’ll take the lead. Don’t worry. So long as we stay together and tackle this as a team we will surely prev-“
A pull motor is spun loudly from around the side of the house, interrupting him for only a second.
“Guhuhuh,” a sluggish, deep voice moans out from just past where they can see.
Navigator Minion glances to see if he can see through the wall to make out the laughing suspect, but sees nothing. He clears his white infusia throat to continue. “We will surely prevail and g-“
Again the pull motor is tugged, this time spinning the engine into full speed as a merciless roar emanates from the machine.
The scent of gasoline fills the air.
The four minions watch in horror as the heavy-weighted footsteps make way to reveal a royal knight wearing a hockey mask.
“Who’s ready to get cut in half guhhuhhuh,” the supposed royal knight says with a tone of guttural murder.
The three “old-timer” minions loose blood curdling screams. “Get inside, oh Neptune, GET INSIDE!” Navigator Minion screeches with a complete reversal of his previous demeanor. He swings the door and both Teacher and Cosplay Minion collapse over one another to get in.
Teapot Minion isn’t fast, mostly because he doesn’t give a damn, up to the point that he actually helps close the door in front of him. Amidst the shouting mania of the trio inside, he turns sharply to the chainsaw knight, who by this point has vaulted up the stairs and is raising his chainsaw high.
“You’re dead meat,” the knight says, the inside of its visor bright white as if the wearer had glowing eyes.
Hardly a third of the killer’s size, Teapot Minion delivers a swift kick to the unprotected gap around the knight’s shin.
“Wh- ow!” the killer bleats as he topples over. “Owowowowowow-“
“Your holiday’s dumb,” Teapot Minion snaps, continuing the assault with a few more firm, well-earned kicks into the knight’s personal areas.
“Stop, I’m sorry! Stop!” the killer shouts, competing with the rattle of his chainsaw.
Teapot Minion doesn’t stop. It’s an entire minute before he takes up the chainsaw and goes to town on the costumed minion with utter impunity. He knows by this point that so long as his assault isn’t enchanted, whatever damage he does will repair itself. After suppressing the final shriek from the killer by bringing the swift teeth of the chainsaw down into his neck, Teapot Minion snaps up the mask from the killer’s face, revealing the shocked-stupid expression of the now-unconscious Creep Minion.
For a short moment, Teapot Minion peers down into the innards of the steel mask, and through the eye holes as if to a portal to another world.
The wind blows, and he smirks.
“We’ll see how you like it,” he says, an orange-gold spark igniting in his bright eyes.
“W-wah! A spooky ghost!” Cosplay Minion squeaks out as she clings tight to Navigator Minion.
The small cardboard cutout of a ghost, pulled via string tied to the drawing room’s one ceiling fan flaps about with horrific abandon.
Navigator Minion sighs. “You really don’t seem too worried considering we just lost that other minion.”
Cosplay Minion waves it off. “Baw, he wasn’t fun, besides, he was way shorter than me – I’m not into losers,” she says with a sly glance to the side.
Navigator Minion fires off a covert, disgusted glance over to Teacher Minion, who nods shamefully as if confirming that yes, Cosplay Minion is in fact like this all of the time.
“W-well that said, you are right in that we can’t let it slow us down. We need to keep moving,” he says, adjusting his glasses with a reaffirmed and unexpectedly handsome refrain.
She giggles as she pulls his arm close into her. “Are you going to protect me?!“
Navigator Minion nods. “Don’t worry. Like I said so long as we stick together we-“
“NO NO NO NO NOOOOOO!” a voice familiar to Teacher Minion erupts.
Her face twists with urgency. “That’s Politics Minion!” she identifies, twisting right for the door in the spooky mansion hallways that the scream came from.
“Who?” Navigator Minion asks, leading the way forward with his admittedly pretty cool jacket.
“He’s a new student. We’ve been getting a lot of them lately.”
Cosplay Minion hums smugly. “Big Master been going on another of his rampages, eh?”
Teacher Minion doesn’t respond as she steps up equal to Navigator Minion who opens the door immediately.
The three step into a loaded concert hall with all eyes on the two pedestals on the stage.
There he is, Politics Minion, trembling in his boots as a handsome, perfect lawyer-astronaut-war-hero-billionaire-triple-amputee-cyborg explains some bullshit theory about theoretical economics to a questioner.
“What the… goodness,” Navigator Minion mumbles with shock at the complete change of atmosphere.
“-and there you have it. More jobs, a stronger middle class, no more terrorists, free money for everyone for life, and basically you guys can do whatever you want. Furthermore, free stuff. Best part is that I know where we’ll get the tax dollars to do it – it’s not like those rich people need their money anyway, you know? I d-“
Of course, the politician is drowned out by the applause of the masses – he’s perfect.
“The votes are in!” a voice over a loudspeaker declares: “Chad Bestmann has won 100% of the vote! I don’t even think anyone was trying to run against him!”
The three minions watch as President Chad Bestmann swings his head smugly over to look at Politics Minion. “As my first act as president… I call it the minion wagon act: all past political opponents of any election that did not take office will be-“
“NOOOOOO!” Politics Minion leaps away from the pulpit and runs with all he has for the door.
“SEIZE HIM!” The President booms with a voice that has instantly shifted into a demoniac fury.
The entire audience rises up to arrest him the moment he gets up to the other three. “Get me out of here! I’ll do anything!“
Navigator Minion only needs to open up the door again to let them back through. No sooner do they all file through and close it behind them do the mirages of Politic Minion’s nightmare cease. The roar of the approaching crowd was there one second, but the moment the door closes, they cease.
“Yeah, this place is awesome,” Cosplay Minion says with an enthusiastic smile.
Politics Minion leans over to catch his breath. “That was… th-thank you.”
“Any time,” Navigator Minion says with a serious tone. “What happened to you?”
Politics Minion shakes his head. “Those damn liberals got a handle on the media, and then all the people wanted was wha-“
“No, like what actually happened,” Navigator Minion corrects.
Politics Minion squints at him with suspicion, as if it were an intended slight. “I suppose you’re meaning to ask what happened to me. It swept through the classroom, and next thing I knew I was in that horrible election day debate,” he says with a shudder.
“What could it all mean?” Teacher Minion asks, crossing her arms.
Cosplay Minion gives off a smooth, practiced shrug. “Well, the nightmare guy did mention the Wagon,” she observes, referring to that most-horrid of all punishments in all of Towerne.
Navigator Minion’s gaze intensifies. “It’s definitely other minions in charge of this… or perhaps that’s just what it wants us to think.” His expression stays severe as he looks up to the others. “We have to keep searching. There’s no telling h-“
A long, gentle laugh clears out the hall.
“Well, this won’t do at all,” a suave, though rather nerdy voice speaks out through the atmosphere.
The four of them stand at the ready, except Cosplay Minion, who reflexively strikes a cute pose as if viewed behind a camera lens.
“Who goes there? Show yourself!” Navigator Minion demands.
The laughing begins again the moment the magic darkness appears at both sides of the minions.
“Wh- no! NOT AGAIN!” Politics Minion shouts with a wild cry.
Teacher Minion grabs onto the three just as Navigator Minion has the same idea.
He takes a breath to speak encouragement the moment the blackness sweeps over them. “Hold on, it’s going to try and separate…”
And just like that, he’s been whisked away alone onto a small boat on the ocean.
“-us,” he finishes with a dry tone. They’ve been had once more by their mysterious tormentor.
Navigation Minion takes a moment to regain his bearings, but he realizes there’s no stars out on this ocean.
“The… Eversea, maybe?” he asks with a calm tone.
That is, calm until he hears the heavy, squeaking wheels of a wagon… The Wagon.
It’s under the water, and it’s far down, but he knows the sound of The Wagon when he hears it.
Immediately he jumps into action, the horror even affecting the body within him due to the sheer terror piercing into him. He raises the sail, fixes his hand to the rudder, and readies for movement.
There’s no wind – he’s a sitting duck.
Along the black water of the ocean, he can see a small sliver of what seems to be a wagon handle jutting out of the water.
“No,” Navigation Minion whispers to himself. “You aren’t real. You’re just a blasted illusion!“
The wagon handle resubmerges, but not for long.
It rears its hideous molded steel head, breaking up through the surface and flipping on its side like an enormous shark fin.
Navigation Minion, despite all of his meditation and introspection, cannot bring himself out of the horror of his situation. With a scream as manically loose at Politics Minion’s he falls to his knees in utter, horrified despair.
“Heh, good work so far, my dudes,” Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X says with a cool grin as he laxes on his sick halloween throne, complete with skeletons, jack-o-lanterns, bats, and some suspiciously-realistic unconscious minion bodies. In the secured central room of the manor, his fellow and attendants hold audience with him. Most of them have no clue why the heck he’s sitting on a throne right now past some stupid ego trip, but they are certain that they’re all having a lot of fun with this.
Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X takes up a bunch of grapes and then flicks away the stem. “Dimension Dude! Status report!” he commands, flinging himself up from his lazy position to a proper sit.
Dimensionomancy Infrastructure Minion, neither here, nor there, let alone fully in this dimension, pulls up a PDA and looks at the screen.
“Looks to me like the A.I. auto-miasma is doing it’s job. I have to say this ‘smart magic’ stuff the Librarium’s onto is really something. In fact with our p-“
“Don’t care. Shit. You’d think I asked you for your life’s story or something – idiot.” Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X turns over to his “cool” minions, Headless Horseminion and Strike Minion, who recently changed his name over from Baseball-Analogy Minion to sound cooler. “I do not get this guy.”
Neither of them respond – they were all under the impression that this was a “partner” type thing, and taking orders from a minion as unpopular as Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X would totally make them lame.
The little minion shrugs. “Everyone here just has no spirit. I don’t get it. We go through all this trouble to make the spookiest haunted house ever and you guys can’t even get into it! Do you not like my awesome th-“
“Ughhhh,” a minion set in the base of the makeshift throne moans as he starts coming to. “Wh-…. where am I?!“
Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X gives a slant glance to Strike Minion, who grins, raises his bat, and hits down with such immaculate force that the minion’s head explodes like a pumpkin, once again, all over the floor.
“How many times do we have to do that?” Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X asks with a chuckle. “They just keep regenerating!”
Witch Minion, sitting coolly by the wayside on her broom, gives a short hum. “You know, that’s kind of what we do. You can’t really kill one of us unless you use a lot of physical and magical force together.”
The little scarred minion raises up a finger in realization. “Of course!” he gestures down to all the collapsed and bloody minions making up his throne. “If you please.“
“Uh, no. I’m not killing people for your silly chair,” she answers.
“That’s what it is,” she notes cleanly.
Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X hisses and does a frustrated little breakdance move on the seat of the throne.
“It’s a throne! Overlords don’t have chairs, dumbass.“
There’s an awkward moment shared amongst them all at the utterance of the “O” word.
Strike Minion looks over with an indignant squint from under his baseball cap. “Right, but you’re sitting in it.”
Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X throws up his hands with a kingly motion. “Yeah? And what of it?”
Witch Minion hums. “You know, only overlords are supposed to sit in thrones, and I’m sure you remember what happened to the last guy that challenged Chaos.”
The crazed lord minion waves his hand dismissively. “I’d like to see him try. Overlord Ultradeath is the one in charge here, and that person is me!”
There’s another set of concerned glances shared among all the following minionry, with the exception of Headless Horseminion, who just sort of shrugs.
A beep emits from Dimensionomancy Infrastructure Minion’s PDA, and he looks down at it.
“Looks like there’s a disturbance on the second floor. Someone’s… oh my.”
The others watch him tap through his PDA’s touch screen a moment more before loosing a gentle, nervous chuckle.
“Yeah, this isn’t going to end well,” he observes with a faintly humored smile.
The so-called Overlord UltraDeath scoffs. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”
The scientist minion squints at the display of his PDA for a few seconds more, and then comes to a confirming nod. “It looks like your newly-announced overlordship is going to come to quite the swift end unless you can figure this one out. One of your ‘victims’ beat the ever-living goo out of Creep Minion.”
“He didn’t seem like the type that would last long,” Witch Minion notes dryly.
Dimensionomancy Infrastructure Minion gives her a poised look of disapproval, while Overlord Ultradeath just breaks out into laughter.
“Ohhhh snap! I’m so going to tell him you said that!”
Witch Minion, still leaning down coolly on her broom, gives an ineffectual shrug. “Alright.”
“That said,” the scientist minion continues, “at this rate he’ll be here in only a few minutes. He’s already cut down Sneak Attack Minion, Horror Enthusiast Minion, Occult Minion, and even Spider Enthusiast Minion!”
“Spider Enthusiast Minion is the least threatening of all of them, why would you-“
“Not my boy Occult Minion!” Witch Minion puffs with insult, cutting off Overlord Ultradeath. Her broom lifts her from her will alone and points down to the extravagant set of double doors. “I’m gonna spell this freak into bits! Don’t wait up!” she snaps before zooming out with her wand at the ready.
Dimensionomancy Infrastructure Minion jolts at her sudden brashness. “You really shouldn’t. We would need you guys to attack as a gr-” he sighs. “And there she goes…” he glances over to Overlord Ultradeath. “My recommen-“
“Ha! You think I need your advice?” the little overlord shouts indignantly.
The lab coat-wearing minion responds with an inexpressive stare, allowing his “master” to reconsider his words.
“W-” Overlord Ultradeath clears his white ether throat. “Well I mean I may not need your advice, but I still want it. Give it to me!”
Dimensionomancy Infrastructure Minion delivers a blank stare before returning to a courteous, ironic smile. “Why, of course, my liege! You need to get the killer off the trail and lead him into the A.I. miasma – that’ll pull him into one of the pocket dimensions and set him in a nightmare of his very own… all you need is bait.”
Overlord Ultradeath gives a curt hum as he looks over to his two fighters standing around.
Strike Minion shoots up a quick, cool hand as he rotates his bat between his fingers deftly. “I got you there. I’m ready to hit a real home run,” he says, stepping forward to the double doors with his bat resting now firm on his shoulder.
“Nice,” the overlord swings over to address Headless Horseminion. “Looks like someone cares about getting promoted.”
Headless Horseminion looses a low, guttural laugh at the utter irony of Ultradeath’s words, and this rightly makes the overlord feel uncomfortable.
“E-eh, nevermind, dude,” he says, moving back to his neutral “on the throne” position. “You just do your thing as… uh, the ‘penultimate boss’ dude before the overlord.”
Again, Headless Horseminion laughs, and now even Dimensionomancy Infrastructure Minion is feeling a little weirded out.
“So, eh, where did you find this… gentleman?” he asks to Ultradeath, who smirks back with a wince.
“Night Tower. Apparently that’s where most of these freaks hang out.”
Dimensionomancy Infrastructure Minion raises his head up with ironic agreement, gently gliding over the obvious humor that the person telling him this is perhaps the greatest freak of all the minions. “Ahh, yes. Where all the freaks hang out,” he notes with a terse smirk.
Ultradeath nods simply before catching onto the implication of his aide’s tone. “Wh- No, dude! I’m super cool! I’m not some loser!”
“Okay,” Dimensionomancy Infrastructure Minion says simply, winning a laugh from Headless Horseminion.
Ultradeath falls back into the seat of his throne with a sigh. “Whatever, assholes.“
“By the emperor, I’ll never give in!” Centurion Minion, tied up into a rather vulnerable position, says with a defiant arousal.
The unnaturally hot gang of druidic women around him, the most appropriate of which is wearing only a sheepskin-cape around her slender shoulders, are ensuring their captive is well-terrified before calling in their leader.
“Poor foreigner~” a blue-painted one starts in a lascivious tone, as she draws circles around his chest with her finger, “you seem to be really frustrated by something. It couldn’t be that you actually like a bunch of dirty, nasty druids like us, cou-“
“Never! Hadrian will hold you away, you stinking barbarians!” he yells defensively.
All of the girls share a foul-natured giggle at his expense. He’s clearly not very persuasive.
Then, like an eerie breeze, they all turn to the dark opening of the largest hut in the shaded village. All speech ceases as the smoke stops from the hut, as if its inhabitant had snuffed out the flame to leave.
The dark forest air picks up a distinctly horrifying sting, as if something that even the trees are afraid of is emerging from its den.
Centurion Minion has fought many foes, and served under the glorious Emperor Hadrian for many years, but never has he felt a horror like this overtaking him.
Then, it moves. Slow, squeaking wheels whine with the merciless, savoring abandon of a million, billion hells.
The shadow of the hut reveals the old wood exterior of none other than the Minion Wagon.
He gasps the same moment the sound of a rumbling chainsaw engine emerges from all around him.
Restrained there with a myriad of weed-rope ties, his white eyes widen with absolute disbelief. He’s never even heard about the wagon, and yet there’s just something to it. Deep within him, to his very primal core of urges and being – it’s like his very soul is reeling in disgust at the sight. Just what is it that his nature knows that his mind does not?
The sound of the engine abruptly cuts into high gear as a toothed blade splits through thin air. The nearly-revealed door swings open, its lock and handle destroyed.
With new-found motivation, Centurion Minion forces up with all his strength, readily escaping the binds, slapping one of the druids to get his gear back, and vaulting through the opening.
The very moment he exits back into the mansion, the mirage of the nightmare begins to fade along with all those gorgeous forest girls.
He takes a moment to catch his breath. Never has he felt so terrified, and yet so rewarded at once. Centurion Minion takes a final glance back into the room that contained him – a pleasantly-furnished room with sensible, if fancy tastes. The one thing standing out to him is the large, glowing ranged illusion slip on the ceiling.
Of course a mighty man of the Legion like Centurion Minion hasn’t the slightest clue what this is, and just mutters “witchcraft” before turning away.
Alone for only a moment, he starts down to the next door along the hall only to realize that whoever has been going by cutting open the locks to the doors has been making quick work of it.
The entire, scary hallway of nearly twenty doors stretches on, each door’s clock cut open with the exception of the last one.
A small, masked, chainsaw-wielding minion glances across to see Centurion Minion, who immediately grasps his sword at the ready.
Instead of an expected engagement, however, the chainsaw minion simply cuts open the final door before disappearing down one of the connecting hallways.
Centurion Minion huffs with a professional grunt. If there’s others there it would be wrong not to rescue them.
He goes to the next door, where a screaming Navigator Minion is swimming frantically for the door from a black ocean. Centurion Minion offers him his hand and easily draws him up onto the floor. The second he’s pulled out of the illusion, it shrouds and twists into a meaningless watercolor of illusory magic, right before disappearing altogether to reveal another nice guest room.
“Th-” Navigator Minion takes a deep, gasping breath. “Thank you,” he says, pushing his face into the tall Centurion Minion’s chest.
“N-Of course,” he responds, “let’s go.”
Through various means and through varying difficulty, Centurion Minion comes to the rescue of a multitude.
Fall Addict Minion, trapped in a nightmare where it’s Summer forever and coffee shops don’t exist,
Gourmand Minion, stuck in a room without fancy foods to try out, nor an internet connection to order some,
Gas Minion, forced to drive in a street race using a car he hasn’t tuned himself,
Geometric Shape Enthusiast Minion, whose nightmare consisted of Overlord Chaos and the Late King Rayda having a fight over a large golden pentagon for some reason,
Cosplay Minion, beset by the horrors of spending tons of time on her costume only to go completely ignored by even the basement-dwelling losers in attendance at the convention,
Minion by minion, nightmare by nightmare, they even found out Tormented Modernist Poet Minion, whose nightmare was actually just a pretty regular afternoon in a city square. The list goes on:
-Tidiness Minion in a room that randomly scrambled its objects every minute
-Trap Minion in a dungeon where everyone’s alert, skilled dungeoneers
-Cooking Minion on a rather brutal television show where contestants have to use one another as cooking ingredients; not that he was doing that bad at it,
-MLG Minion in a match where he cannot for the life of him land a single eyes-closed 720 no-scope
-Magic Minion in a universe where everyone can cast spells but her
-Teacher Minion in a perfectly normal American public school classroom
-Used Car Salesminion on a day where everyone brings pre-written bank checks to make purchases
-Party Minion in a world with no one to invite
-Cardio Minion in which there’s so many people she can’t make a stride in edgewise
-Falling Down Stairs Minion in a department store consisting of only one, endlessly long marble staircase
And in each of them, The Wagon makes an appearance. Sometimes it’s direct and threatening, and other times it’s looming and anticipatory, but it’s always there, however slight, waiting with its old rusty axle to feed off their dread. Centurion Minion does not claim to know what’s going on, but he does know he’ll do all he can to get his fellows under the Emperor to safety.
The final door has the bleating, excited tone of a familiar voice.
“N-no! Stay away you horrible invaders! I’m a beautiful and pure woman of the forest! Don’t touch me with your big-strong hands!”
Most of the minions share in a chuckle at the expense of whatever loser is on the other end, but for some reason Centurion Minion’s face flushes white.
“Juno’s ass,” he mutters before flinging open the door.
Druid Minion’s in a precarious place, set in chains that pose her in a rather compromised position, surrounded by a crew of buff, oiled roman soldiers, each one more pleased than the next as to their captive’s unquestionable beauty.
For some reason the minion wagon is up on a pedestal and wearing a toga – we can’t be held accountable for every little thing, right?
Druid Minion looks over to the dimensional opening of the illusion and sees Centurion Minion, looking at the scene with white-faced embarrassment.
There’s an awkward pause, but if the flushing of her face could make a sound, it would be like a jet engine.
With her pulled out by his hands, the two share a quick, immaculately awkward glance.
“I uh…” Druid clears her throat. “You guys are horrible,” she says, looking away with a spiteful disgust tacked onto her obvious discomfort.
“You barbarians…” Centurion Minion says with a sigh, “You’re all hideous creatures,” he says, turning away as well, but only slightly.
“Wow, get these guys a room!” Party Minion says with a quick wave of his hands.
“Only if you let me clean it first,” Tidiness Minion notes as she corrects the placement of a vase on one of the hallway drawers, “I can’t stand this place, and neither should you.”
“Hey Druid Minion!” Fall Addict Minion says, pushing up from the back of the crowd, “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
Druid Minion struggles to pull her hood over her antler antennae to hide her face. “Nothing. I’m fine.“
Centurion Minion sighs as he looks on. “Alright, let’s find our way through here.” He glances over to Druid Minion with a mixed expression. “We’re still finding the source of this evil and destroying it.”
Druid Minion gives an indignant “tsk” through her jaws. “Of course we are.” She starts forward in-step with Centurion Minion down the hall as the rest follow along.
The team travels through a hallway of spooky paintings of royal knights, up a staircase that five of them need to help Falling Down Stairs Minion with lest he automatically vaults down into a tumble, and through a rather impressive ivory-colored menagerie filled with hideous statues.
Just as they reach what seems to be a secondary drawing room for the upper layer of the manor, they see a solitary figure standing in the middle of the room, his feet planted firmly upon the marble tile and a large, fortified, heavy-wood bat poised over his shoulder like a broadsword.
“Who are you?” Centurion Minion spits in command.
“Oh, it’s Baseball Analogy Minion!” Gourmand Minion identifies with a pleasant tone.
The minion in the center reaches up and adjusts his baseball cap, bringing the brim down over his eyes as if to block out the sun and prepare for a home run.
“I’m afraid you’ve struck out. I’m Strike Minion now.”
“Okay, but that’s still a baseball analogy, you idiot-loser,” Cooking Minion snips.
Strike Minion brings his bat around with the force of a hurricane, the mere swing forcing a whooshing gust through the massive room. “The only analogies here will be your heads soaring over the stadium walls – ninth inning, all bases loaded… the plate is waiting,” he says with a severe tone. They see his slant, readied gaze, scarcely concealing a viciously murderous intent.
“Yeah, that was like… three or four analogies, dude,” Cardio Minion says, her bunny-ear-like antennae flicking curiously at his behavior.
The majority of the minions share a laugh at it all, but are cut silent when Strike Minion brandishes his bat like a sword in an upward stance. “Looks like I’m up to bat. Your championship run ends here,” he says, seemingly incapable of producing any information that does not also come packaged inside or at least with a baseball analogy of some kind.
The minions chuckle again at his words, but it all ends for good when he springs forward. With a critical, cracking strike into Cooking Minion’s face, literally splattering him unconscious across the room.
Everyone jolts back but Druid and Centurion Minions, the two rearing up for a fight.
“Play ball!” Strike Minion shouts with a tone filled to the brim with murder.
The two jockey and repose around Strike Minion in a bevy of swings and dodges. Druid Minion takes up her daggers ready for the kill the very moment Strike minion tosses off another missed hit.
It was a feint.
Trapped by her own momentum forward, Druid Minion prepares for the worst. She takes a breath and closes her eyes, her final vision being that of Strike Minion’s gaze cast under his bat, readied to smash her into smithereens.
A massive clang overtakes the room, and the surrounding minionry gasps.
Noting the distinct intactness she’s still feeling, Druid Minion opens her eyes to see Centurion Minion, shielding bravely with his sword as his forged steel takes the brunt of the strike.
“Wh-” she stops herself, she doesn’t even know what to say.
“You and I are one and the same – one heart for our emperor is as another. Your willingness to fight displays your loyalty,” he says with a firm, certain tone.
Her face flushes white again, unable to pull back her shock.
Strike Minion scoffs at the gaudy display, and rears back for another swing. “This one’s for the season!” he shouts, slamming the bat down, smacking through Centurion Minion’s blade like drywall, and sending them both soaring back.
Centurion Minion took the hit for his Druid counterpart, the two of them collapsing forward in a white-bloodied heap as Strike Minion is only scooted back a meter from the massive force.
He inspects his bat, only slightly splintered after completely destroying the blade. “Can’t get any better than league quality,” he says with a smirk, the very second he replaces his feet for another movement forward, depressing a small metal pin connected to a tie-string.
Activated by Strike Minion, a huge and deeply-complex system of ropes, springs, and metallic joints snap into action. A set of binds immediately set around him, hanging him upside down and putting his batting spree to an immediate end.
“The hell? I’m not ready to go to the pit yet!” he spits indignantly as he begins swinging wildly to free himself.
Everyone looks over and sees none other than Trap Minion, resting with his arms crossed while he appreciates the efficacy of his art.
“Wh- how?!” Navigator Minion bleats in shock.
Trap Minion shrugs, “practice,” is all he says with a cool grin.
The lively churning of a small engine overtakes the room.
“What’s that?” Gourmand Minion asks as she collects up Cooking Minion’s steadily-regenerating body.
Druid Minion squints in thought as she and the others turn for the doorway they came from.
But it’s not quite so simple.
From the ceiling he falls, the chainsaw-toting killer minion with his metallic teeth a-turnin’.
Everyone jolts in shock, but Druid Minion makes the connection quickly.
“Teapot Minion… is that yo-“
She’s cut off as he practically flies by. Like a bolt of death, he lays his blade into Strike Minion, cutting into him and shearing white infusia across the floor in a murderous splattering.
Everyone watches in mixed horror as Strike Minion cries out, pulling in breath to give just one more baseball analogy, but he cannot push it out in time before the blade cuts fully through his neck, splitting him in two as his pieces dangle gruesomely from the ropes of the trap.
There’s an awkward silence, as Cardio Minion slowly, savoringly opens her black jaws. “Looks like you… struck out,” Cardio Minion notes, winning either a laugh or a groan from almost everyone else.
“Teapot Minion?” Teacher Minion addresses with a concerned tone.
He only turns to her the way a cool, dejected anti-hero might before taking the bat from his opponent, and running on further into the manor.
“Bro, that’s Teapot Minion?” Trap Minion asks.
Gas Minion snaps his shades down under his eyes with a flick of the head, revealing a cool gaze of what must be distant admiration.
Navigator Minion shakes his head indignantly. “There’s no time to stare. Let’s get after him! He could be running head-first into danger! Follow me!”
They bypass traps, spooky hallways, gardens, rooms filled with coffins, libraries of only emo poetry, and many more horrible, quite spooky things, hot on the trail of the chainsaw minion. It’s not hard to track him down considering he’s cut through nearly every door he’s gone through. Most of the group can’t blame him – chainsaws are super cool when you’re the one using it.
The gang of escaping minions pour in through the double doors of the manor’s grand office, doubling as a sort of marble-clad throne room for none other than The Omniverse’s newest overlord.
There he is, atop his gilded throne of cool stuff and half-conscious pulverized minion bodies, Overlord Ultradeath, drinking a glass of Irish coffee, among the most forbidden of substances within The Minionry, as it contains both coffee and alcohol, goodness me. Standing before him in a pose of vigilant defiance is Teapot Minion, his chainsaw ready to go to town on this goon.
“Ahh, if it isn’t the loser train from loserburg turning into loser station,” Overlord Ultradeath says, his unhinged gaze overtaken by a superior air as he greets them all. “I suppose you’ve enjoyed my little fun house?” he asks, looking down to the minion about his size.
There’s silence, only the rumbling of the chainsaw’s motor.
Overlord Ultradeath draws back with a scoff. “Ahh, a bit of a quiet one, eh? Well, you know what they say…” He pauses dramatically to take a big, defiant sip of his alcoholic coffee. “Only nerds stay quiet,” he says with a pretentious gaze, dripping in superiority. He glances over to Headless Horseminion as if to gain approval for his words, but he just shrugs, headless as always.
“Really?” Overlord Ultradeath asks out to everyone. “Only nerds stay quiet? That’s like… how do none of you guys get that one?”
“That’s like, really specific,” Falling Down Stairs Minion says.
“Yeah, like I know you’re referring Ormai Scramble,” Cosplay Minion notes, “but it’s not funny at all. Using a catch phrase does not automatically make it a witty thing to say,” she explains, also not really catching the reference.
In a rather cute grunt, Overlord Ultradeath tosses his glass aside, shattering it on the floor and wasting good Irish cream. “You’re all garbage, really. I stuck my neck out to give you guys the scares of a lifetime, and this is how you thank me?!”
“No one wants this but you, Maniac Minion,” Druid Minion claims with a cool tone.
“It’s an affront to the Emperor to insult his vassalage like this,” Centurion Minion adds.
“Your decorum is severely lacking,” Tidiness Minion notes, her gaze icy with contempt.
“There’s no tasty snacks!” Gourmand Minion criticizes.
“The costumes weren’t that great,” Cosplay Minion adds.
“There weren’t enough traps,” Trap Minion says with a plain tone.
The others glance at him, and he shrugs.
“I’m telling you guys, haunted houses aren’t fun without traps!” he explains with a haughty scoff as if talking to a group of only trap plebeians.
“Silence!” Overlord Ultradeath says with a raised hand. “You’ll not utter your foolishness in my domain.”
“Serious balls talking to us with that attitude,” Magic Minion says, preparing a spell using nothing but her hands.
Overlord Ultradeath belts out a hearty laugh, as if he was truly in charge of this all. “Fools!” He turns over to address Dimensionomancy Infrastructure Minion, leaning next to a window by the side of the large room. There’s a gasp.
“You too?!” Fall Addict Minion whines.
He shrugs. “This is the kind of thing I live for. Experiments all day are so boring,” he explains with a mischievous smile.
“Do the thing!” Ultradeath commands
The hazy, pseudo-existent minion slips out a small control device from under the folds of his quite winsome-looking laboratory coat and presses a big red button.
Instantly the universe feels as though its woven fabric is being crossed with another.
“Wh-what’s happening?!” Fall Addict Minion cries, leaping over to hold onto Druid Minion for support.
Navigator Minion’s eyes slant. “He’s merging dimensional spaces – not simply moving reality, but shifting it.”
“Is that even possible?!” Gourmand Minion bleats.
“Nothing’s out of reach when you’re drawing mana from a font like the Planar Sphere,” Magic Minion explains, “with know-how like Mister Dimension, he could shift this whole place into food if he wanted to.”
Gas Minion gives a mild look of disapproval as Gourmand Minion gasps, her viewpoint on the situation changing immediately.
Their dimension is shifting into a glorious, final-boss-esque summit of a great black tower, fitting for one that would dare raise a hand against the One True Overlord.
Ultradeath guffaws in bellowing euphoria. “FOOOOOLS! Behold the power of the new overlord! With the ability to shift the fabric of reality at my badass, throat-tearing hands, I’ll be able to take over the entire Omniverse!” He looks down to the masked intruder at the forefront, standing in defiance. “Now just what do you think of that?“
Teapot Minion simply revs the chainsaw, his gaze wide with phantasms of violence.
Ultradeath shrugs, and steps down from his throne as if accepting the challenge. “Headless dude.”
Headless Horseminion’s torso twists over.
“Keep these goons busy while I handle anti-hero over here,” he spits smugly.
This is what the Horseminion’s been waiting to hear all night.
With a ghastly, otherworldly cackle, he reaches his gloved hand to draw his sword, crusty-black from its numerous victims.
Centurion Minion, unlearned as to the pecking order among the minionry, steps forward to draw the broken hilt of his shattered sword, but is held back by a swift hand from Druid Minion.
“Night tower assignees are on another level,” she explains, “but we have someone who can make short work of him.”
The minions look over to the one among them they know is crazy enough to go toe to toe with such a high-ranking fighting minion.
“Shapes,” Navigator Minion starts.
Polygonal Shape Enthusiast Minion looks up from the nice, almost symmetrical diamond-shaped brick floor. “Eh?”
“Help us!” Magic Minion says with a scoff.
“O-of course! I will not let down my friends, especially if we are protecti-“
A smug Overlord Ultradeath snaps his fingers, cuing Dimensionomancy Infrastructure Minion to press a few buttons.
Immediately the floor changes to absolutely perfect, even, symmetrical pentagon-shaped tiles.
“R-Rayda! Let me help you!” Polygonal Shape Enthusiast Minion spits out with instant delirium, falling to his little black knees as he works his hands along the even angles of the nearest tile with an almost soul-crushing severity.
The minions jointly try to get his attention, but he cannot be consoled from the glory of perfectly polygonal shapes – they complete him.
The moment before they change strategies, Headless Horse Minion flies in for a strike. As if pushed by the power of a cursed stallion, he lunges into the crowd with the unhinged viciousness of a man searching for a new head.
Gas Minion, a hero even without a car, leaps to match the strength of the strike, but his adorable, mascot-sized body isn’t nearly enough to halt the oncoming blade of one of Chaos’ most deranged minions.
It’s a manic clash, with swings and grapples from all sides of the conflict as Teapot Minion and Ultradeath have it out, both a surprising match for one another in the dramatic backdrop of the great white moon looking down on them.
Then, a presence shifts.
As if from the reflex alone, everyone’s antennae, even the pre-occuipied Polygonal Shape Enthusiast Minion’s, raise alertly – they all know the feeling, as if passed on by their master.
A human-sized figure in a suit of armor steps out abruptly from the side of the room, drawing an enchanted sword ripe for the slaughter of ether-framed minions.
Everyone stops, even Headless Horseminion, who considers himself too cool to show fear, almost trips over himself at the sight.
“Prepare for a most untimely demise…” the armored one says with a horrific tone as it approaches with its drawn broadsword.
The near two-dozen minions shear off to the side of the room to the side of Dimensionomancy Infrastructure Minion, who, with a knowing smile, clears his throat.
“Oh no! The dimensional space has been penetrated by the royal knights!”
Overlord Ultradeath practically trips over himself twice to run to the corner of the room. “Wh- how?!“
“They’re a resourceful bunch. They must have been lured here by your power,” the science minion notes with a perceptive squint.
Overlord Ultradeath cannot believe this is happening. Peering into the armor with his powerful enchanted gaze, he can only see an immensity of mana, a signature that would challenge even that of The High Overlord.
“Who the hell is this guy?!” he squeaks in terror, writhing for escape. He swings to look at the scientist. “Get us out of here!“
Dimensionomancy Infrastructure Minion gives a nod as he looks to his little device. “It’ll take me a few seconds to coalesce something up, but I should be able to get all of you out so long as someone’s willing to step forward and stall him.”
“Protect us, overlord!” Fall Addict Minion notes with a sunken expression.
“Yeah, protect us!” Gourmand Minion bleats in horror.
The knight takes a step forward, its armor clamoring with a disembodied din of horrific focus.
“You have made a foul mistake,” the knight, his voice deep and cultured, asks like a howling gust of wind. “Where is your overlord to defend you?”
The group unites to push Overlord Ultradeath to the forefront of the group. Despite his pressing back, the others easily overpower the little minion and present him front and center to the phantasmal knight.
“Do your best!” Navigator Minion says.
“You got this, pal,” Falling Down Stairs Minion adds with a smirk.
“You can do it, overlord!” Cardio Minion throws in with a giggle.
Immediately he’s standing in front of the knight, as wide and as tall as a high dragon-kin – a monstrous frame with a strength to match, no doubt.
“Any last words?” the knight breaths out, like the wind of night speaking as it raises its blade up to slaughter the new overlord.
“I… I… I’m SORRY!“
Silence overtakes the final boss throne room and tower summit. The knight holds pose to strike down at a second’s notice, but it appears as though it’s interested in hearing the minion speak.
“I…” Ultradeath clears his throat to continue. “Look, mister: it was just a prank, okay?! I didn’t mean nothin’ by it! Everyone always expects me to step it up! You know, push the limit, so they can know what’s okay… but it’s obvious I’ve gone too far. This isn’t a cool way to spend All-Hell-…” he sighs. “Halloween. It’s not cool at all. I thought having Dimension Dude build a super complex pocket dimension horror mansion with minion wagon jump scares would be awesome, but no one’s felt that way, not even me, and I was the one in charge!”
He turns around with a defeated gaze. “I… I’m sorry, everyone. I really fucked the dog on this one.”
Fall Addict Minion winces. “Did.. did you just say what I think you sa-“
“Don’t worry about it,” Magic Minion cuts in. “Honestly it was a major-dick move of you to assume we’d suddenly be okay with the idea of being transported to our own personal nightmares, but I have to admire the effort you put in.”
Gas Minion, silent and in the background this entire time, finally steps forward and places a supportive hand on Ultradeath’s shoulder.
“Yeah, man,” Gas Minion chimes in, “it wasn’t cool what you did, but we’re family. We’re here for yo-“
“Portal’s up,” Dimensionomancy Infrastructure Minion chimes dryly.
“Sorry, pal,” Gas Minion says with a jolt to safety.
There’s an immediate mad dash for the coalesced portal while minions pile over each other to get in as quickly as possible. Even those who wanted to stick around (actually just Polygonal Shape Enthusiast Minion) is peeled away from the tile and pulled into the portal.
Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X, ditching his overlordship even faster than he had taken it up, leaps to enter the gate and get his freedom, but the hideous cold gauntlet of the knight catches him by the arm.
This is it.
Dimensionomancy Infrastructure Minion, neither here nor there, waits around to watch. With a smug look, he taps a button to immediately close the coalescence portal.
“Did you truly believe you could escape?” the knight asks, looming over the tiny minion.
Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X breaks out into inconsolable sobbing, kicking his little minion feet in the air as the knight holds him up. “Please don’t kill me! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so sorry!“
The knight scoffs, jiggling the minion by the arm in a way that’s almost tender. “Why would you apologize to me of all sort-“
The minion clasps his free hand up to his face and closes his eyes in desperate prayer. “If you’re out there, daddi-o, save your little gumdrop. I promise I’ll never say anything bad about anyone ever again! No more schemes, no matter how cool they are. No more playing hooky. No more raiding the fridge at midnight. No more leaving the table without asking to be excused. No mor-“
The knight interrupts him with a laugh as he puts the minion down and crouches down. “Now, do not go too far. I need a little bit of fun so long as you promise not to overstep your boundary within the cosmic ladder.”
Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X bright eyes squint perceptively. “Wait… there’s only one person I know that talks like that.” He looks up to the knight’s helmet.
The figure flicks up his visor, and reveals a pair of bright white eyes quite a lot like the maniac’s.
“D-DAD?!” he spits.
Chaos, armored in what is unmistakably authentic royal knights gear, gives a winning grin. “How do you like my costume for this year?”
“You!…I can’t.. how did you know I was here?!“
Chaos glances over to Dimensionomancy Infrastructure Minion, who grins cheesily. “It was passed along the antennae that you were thinking of succeeding and striking out on your own-“
He’s interrupted as the little minion leaps up and embraces his neck. “I’m sorry! Holy shit! I am so glad it was you and not a real knight! they would’ve torn out all my squigglies and jumped rope with ’em! They’d throw me in the oven and bake me into a pie, and then leave me out on the windowsill for the bears! They’d make me exercise, and give up cool plans, and get a mortgage a-“
“Take a pause,” Chaos says, slowing down his hyperventilating underling. “You have to be more responsible. You’re a crafty one, but running about threatening people with the Minion Wagon is quite the serious business. These poor souls only want a holiday to relax and have fun if they choose to do so, not actually be terrified.”
Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X sighs, takes a pause, and comes to an accepting nod. “Alright, you got me there.”
Chaos takes off his helmet, sits down, and the minion follows along immediately after. “Has everything been alright, recently?”
The maniac glances away in embarrassment. “I just… I’ve been lonesome, I guess. I’ve been cooped up away in my shack for so long that I guess I felt like I’d be… I dunno, a loser if I didn’t show up and impress everyone after so long.”
Chaos’ jaws, more than capable of tearing out a dragon’s jugular, forms into a grin. “The explosives warehouse?“
“I…” the minion sputters with an awkward smile. “I like the way it smells… and you know, it’s kind of like ‘crazy‘ and would totally make me look cool.”
Chaos nods. “Well you do understand it’s not a very safe place to live in. It’s filled to the brim with explosives.”
“That is why it’s called the ‘explosives warehouse’,” Chaos adds with a gentle smile.
Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X’s antennae flick proudly. “That’s just the kind of guy I am.”
The High Overlord raises his mighty black hand and places it ripely on the minion’s little head. He scratches between the antennae with a tender consideration and a deft skill. “I suppose that is the kind of guy you are,” he agrees. “Do you feel like you’ll be able to get out a little more and talk to the others? I’m sure it would brighten up their day to see you around.”
“Wh- no. Dude, you just don’t… I don’t think they’d want to see me unless I was throwing something in, you know? Causing trouble.”
Chaos pats him on the head. “I think they’d like to know the you that isn’t always up to something. I’m sure you’re perfectly fun to the right folks without so much effort – as a matter of fact I’m sure there’s sorts around Towerne that are entirely comfortable with you simply being as you are.”
Unhinged Super Maniac Minion ALPHA X scoffs at it, looking over with a defensive glance to Dimensionomancy Infrastructure Minion, who’s still standing to the side with a smug, if pleasant look on his face. “I… I don’t really think there’s people around that would be okay with me being just… boring, you know? Like, I can’t think of anyone that actually finds me interesting when I’m not up to something.”
Chaos gives another pat, this time on his back. “I do.“
Immediately the little minion’s crooked grin twists in emotion. He looks up to The Overlord with a look of gobsmacked awe. “R-really?!“
The tall one nods. “Whatever you were, or are, I accept that and appreciate that. If people cannot appreciate you for who you are, it simply means that they have not yet developed the taste for your personality. Of course, we all have to be responsible with how we manage who we are and try not to cause too much discomfort, especially when our identity comes in conflict with the well-being of other people.”
The minion glances away slowly, dejectedly – he knows exactly what Chaos is referring to. “I… I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s easy to get caught up in it all and distracted.”
Chaos’ smile gains a hint of pride, and he looks over to his little one. “I’m quite demanding, I know it, but I think it would be for the best if you could trust me.”
In an action that none of the minions would ever expect to see, Maniac Minion leans in and gives Chaos a big, tight hug. “Okay, dad. I trust you.”
Chaos nods as he taps him on the back. “Now get on out there if you’re ready, I have some business to finish here and I’m certain everyone would like to see you.”
Maniac Minion gets up to his feet alongside Chaos. “Alright, pops… thanks again for setting me straight.”
“It is always a pleasure to guide you all.” The High Overlord tears a portal to the heart of Towerne, where the Halloween celebration is certain to be at its heaviest. “Be on your way, then,” he adds.
Maniac Minion places a single foot into the rift, admiring the glow of the lights and the scent of cider coming from the other end. “Alright…” he looks back. “Will you do a jack-o-lantern with me?”
Chaos grins. “I thought you’d never ask. I’ll be right there in just a few minutes.”
The vassal gives a broad, rich smile, far more genuine than any other in the minionry would expect of him. “Alright. It’s gonna be sick: It’ll be Order puking her guts out!“
The Dimensional Destroyer’s grin does not waver. “I look forward to it,” he says.
The little minion nods back a final time and then hops through the portal, winning cheers and a few shrieks all around from the crowd on the other end.
The portal closes, and Chaos gives a sly, bemused glance over to Dimensionomancy Infrastructure Minion.
“Well done,” Chaos says.
The labcoat-wearing minion renders a congenial nod. “Of course, sir. Ever a pleasure to serve in your schemes.”
Chaos steps up as he looks about the scenery. “I must say, you’ve gotten much better at dimensioncraft.”
The minion nods again with pride. “I have been taught by the best.”
“And yet it seems as though the student has surpassed the master,” Chaos says, brushing his hand along the intricate rococo stylings of the room, effortlessly and seamlessly combined with an alternate space. “What amazing things we have made through magic. I really feel like this whole Halloween thing is growing on me in a silly sort of way.”
“I don’t suppose there’s harm in that. It’s charming, after all… nice armor,” the minion notes, looking over Chaos’ large, wide suit of armor.
Chaos’ eyes shine at the compliment. “Thank you, but it’s not mine… I borrowed it.”
“Without permission, I assume.”
The Overlord smiles. “As if The Knights were ever worth such a grace.”
The two share a gentle chuckle.
“So, how long do you figure the clean up will be?” Chaos asks.
The minion shakes his head, “seconds. I had started the folding process once the ‘main’ group went in – none of them had a reason to backtrack, so it was pretty easy. It’s just this room now, and then we should be good. It was a fun little show, but didn’t last nearly as long as we had planned.”
“Maniac’s not that easy to lead around when he gets twisted into a certain way of doing things, you know… and we had this one kid, new. I don’t know when you picked him up but it couldn’t have been more than a few weeks… a Teapot Minion?“
Chaos cranes his neck back in recognition. “A fine fellow. Loves to run about with that teapot.”
Dimensionomancy Infrastructure Minion gets a twisting smirk. “I’m not so sure about that, Director, sir. That guy was cutting down everyone and everything in his way. In fact the planned failure didn’t even get started by the time he beat the goo out of poor Creep Minion.”
Chaos hums. “We do need to change that name.”
“He’s lightened up a lot. Anyway this little dude started chainsawing pretty much everything. Clean up crew told me they found Witch Minion in a pile, and don’t even ask what shape they found Occultist Minion in!”
“They’re well, though?” Chaos asks, the moment the quiet rumbling of an engine takes precedence in the room.
“Restructuring at the typical speed. The chainsaw wasn’t enchanted, of course… it’s not like he knew about this whole thing so I think he was just reacting as if it were all re-” Dimensionomancy Infrastructure Minion stops himself, his antennae raising alertly.
Chaos’ are already up.
With an easy swing, Chaos seizes the chainsaw’s blade, stopping it immediately and causing the feed to tear itself out, ruining the machine with an effortless display of agility.
Teapot Minion, having climbed the rafters to ambush him, is now staring down at The Overlord and holding tight to the chainsaw’s handle.
“Well, that’s quite the way to say hello on a day like this,” Chaos muses.
“This was your plan all along!” Teapot Minion snaps, leaping up from the handle and flicking out Witch Minion’s wand to cast a spell.
Just as the little guy lands, Chaos says “oops!”, tears a portal right below his feet, and sends Teapot Minion off to Central Tower where he can enjoy the festivities whether he likes it or not.
Chaos looks over to the scientist, who chuckles.
“Uh… looks like he waited behind,” he explains.
“I’m going to have to have a talk with him, but now is not a good time. It should be near dawn in Aerna,” Chaos says.
“Yeah? What’s go-” the minion laughs. “Ahh!“
“Then I’ll get in my real costume. This has been fun, though. Good plan!”
“Thank Sapper Minion. That guy has way too much time on his hands.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Chaos says, tearing another rift to leave the crafted dimension. “You’ll do your best to get down there and have some fun too, won’t you?”
Dimensionomancy Infrastructure Minion gives a slight, conceding hum. “You can count on it, sir. I’ll go down get and drink for myself and Finance Minion… the whole thing really spooked him, I think.”
Chaos shakes his head. “All the more reason to protect those easily frightened. I will speak to him as well.” The Star Destroyer steps halfway through his portal, and gives a slick wave. “Happy Liberation Day!”
The minion gives a swinging nod, overlooking the fact that his master isn’t even sure what holiday they’re celebrating. “You too, sir.”
At that, they part, and the minion works on getting all the half-conscious minions plucked out of the stupid-looking throne.
Lord Knight Law is marching up to the second floor of his manor with his squire. The delicate chill of the Fall air pours through the windows alongside a few crimson leaves.
“Right, sir, and there was candy, and games and costumes! It was all so much fun! I really hope they do it every year!” Knight Perran Tuttilane describes in an awed tone.
The dragon-kin just shakes his head. “They do it every year, ever since Chaos made it popular. I assure you,” he says between a grunt and a hiss. “I hate it.“
Perran gives a knowing sigh. “How entirely like you, sir. I don’t know how someone like Love could have raised a brute like you,” she says, rounding the corner leading to the arms and fitting room down the left hallway.
Law scoffs through his fortress of teeth. “She was addicted to childish pursuits to avoid the pain of her burden. I only realize now that she spent every chance she could to run away from her past… it’s tragic, but we all have such sins we have to tangle with.”
Perran’s brows, colored to an improper cotton candy blue from alteration magic, furrows dimly. “That’s… That’s not right, sir. You shouldn’t speak of the dead like that. She was a great woman.”
“You never even met her,” Law snips as he reaches for the door handle to the fitting room. “She was my mother. I think I have as much right as anyone to anyone to say what she struggled wi- the holy hell?“
“What?! What is it? I can’t see past your-“
Rayull steps aside to give her an unhindered view of the arms room.
“What!?” she spouts.
The room looks entirely fine.
Rayull’s scaled brows drop severely. “My armor’s gone…” he sniffs the air. “Jasmine.“
Perran looks over to him. “What’s so bad about jasmi-“
Before she can finish, Rayull closes the door and begins in halting Latin a spell that will, if anything, at least alert the other knights as to his death.
“What’s wrong?!” Perran asks, completely clueless as to the significance of the situation.
Then, a knock on the door of the arms room.
Rayull, using magic that would be considered exceptionally difficult for even a human, expands his magical signature out through the house. Surely Knight Sensitivity, in the township proper, will feel the abrupt removal of his soul should something happen. He does not stop Perran from opening the door.
She twists the knob, and the scent of jasmine is now twisted with something else.
“Uh, what in Rayda’s holy name…” she mutters, sticking her neck into the arms room. “Oh! Your armor’s back!” she says chipperly.
Rayull sighs out the final word of the spell. “Well, if he’s going to kill us, there’s nothing stopping him.”
“What are you on about, sir?” she asks, glancing back.
The dragon-kin shakes his head. “What’s done is done. Let’s take the bait.”
She’s interrupted as Law steps into the arms room, fully expecting to be slaughtered like a lizard under a shoe in an instant.
“Hmm, looks like one of those rumored games of his,” he explains.
Perran steps up with a strut. “Whose games? Can you please explain just what’s going on?!” she demands.
Rayull looks around the room with his slit pupils, resting finally on the armor rack. There’s a couple things added along with it. Law steps up with a dull gaze, noting the small note tied to his armor on a piece of string. He takes it up and reads.
“What’s it say?” the squire aid asks.
He shakes his head with a tired sigh as he turns the note over for her to read:
“Thank you so much for letting me borrow your pathetic armor, serpent-human. Your ignorance is only matched to the courtesy provided by your incompetence.
Mortality truly is a curse to be protected, isn’t it? The question is whether or not it is a gift to be cherished. Humans are such frail things. Don’t you think?
(P.S. I like your vassal – She recollects of Meeo, I think.)”
Finished reading, she looks up to Law with a confused look, “Who?”
Perran jolts back, drawing her sword and scanning the room in alert. “Wh-he-how-is he-“
“Simmer down. He was just here to bring it back,” he says.
She looks back at her master with a look of pure indignancy. “He brought it back?”
Rayull crosses his arms, the cloth sleeves of his robe soft and comfortable against his scales. “We don’t really tell trainees about that, and it’s definitely not brought up in school, but he’s… kind of a weird one.”
She steadily sets her blade back into its sheath. “Weird?“
Rayull looks over to the other object left behind. “Next example.” He waves over to it.
On the left shoulder of the armor rack is a steaming hot mug of tea – probably as thanks.
“Wh-… is that for you?“
Rayull scoffs. “I don’t want it,” he says, taking it up and offering it. “All yours.”
She takes the black and white mug into her hands, but she looks hesitant. “B-… but don’t you think it could be poisoned?“
Rayull scoffs. “I am telling you: if he wanted to kill us he would have.”
She sighs, sniffs the tea, and takes a sip.
“How is it?” Rayull asks with a mixed smirk.
“I… wow, it’s good!“
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, you are like her,” he says with a bland tone, though there’s an undercurrent of pride in there somewhere.
She addresses him with her gaze. “What?”
“Nevermind,” he says with a smile.