TOS - Vol 2, Pt 2, Ch 23

The Overlord Saga

Vol II. Versus

Chapter 23: Back In the Game

The Overlord stood in her office, back to the door as she stared into the churning flames. She closed her eyes, feeling the heat of the fire against her face. “Who was he?” she heard his voice from behind, deep and rumbling. A faint smile on her lips was replaced by a troubled, distraught expression on her features- but she tried to hide it with a simple shrug.

“He was like the brother I never had,” the Overlord said simply, her green eyes casting their gaze onto the picture above the fire. She swept her gaze quickly to the final person in the portrait- the one she hadn’t seen in years.

“What happened to him?”

“He just left one day...” the Overlord found her voice quivering. “Gone...” She turned and looked at the Theurgist, her green eyes fighting to keep their usual calmness.

“Did you love him?”

The Overlord began to speak, but her gaze moved to the door as it swung open. Standing in his full suit of armor, the Nemesis loomed in the doorway, machete in hand. With each menacing step, he drew closer to the Theurgist, who stood calmly still. Eyes locked onto the Nemesis, the Theurgist didn’t even seem to budge as the Nemesis pulled his machete back and impaled him- directly into the heart. The Theurgist sank gruesomely to the ground, dead before he hit the wooden floors.

Drawing back in terror, the Overlord held up her hands, trying to summon her scythe, but feeling hopeless- powerless. The Nemesis’ eyes bore into hers, and she felt her entire body become rigid- frozen in horror. As he drew closer, she felt the warmth in her body leave- replaced with an unexplainable chill. He reached out, a gloved hand snagging her neck and lifting her into the air.

As she struggling in midair, the Theurgist’s voice rang loudly in her ears.

“Well? Did you?”

---


The Overlord sat across the fire from Elwell, unsure why her old mentor was awake in the first place. Having vacated her tent because she was unable to sleep, the Overlord was plopped down on a stone next to the campfire, gently poking at the flames with a stick. “We’re going to need more than this to take on DIB,” she glanced at Elwell, “You always had brilliant ideas. Let’s hear one now.”

“I took something from the Room of Wises before I left,” Elwell admitted, quietly, “I had to have it reassembled afterward, but... I think it works now.”

“What did you take?”

“The computer.”

“... The TIME machine?”

“Yes.”

The Overlord stared at Elwell quizzically, trying to get the mental image of Elwell sneaking out with a computer. But it then dawned on her how valuable the time machine was- she could raise an entire army of soldiers from each century. She could mass an army of soldiers for the ANF so great that DIB would be crushed in minutes. Her eyes brightened in excitement and she stood up, fist pumping the air, “Let’s try it, then!”

“The only problem is that it needs power. A plug,” Elwell warned her, “You could figure something out, I’m sure.”

“I’m sure I could. I’ll have to make preparations,” the Overlord nodded her head.

“Where... Or, when, I should say, are you going?” Elwell inquired with an evil smirk.

“Oh, I was thinking... the Era of the Three Kingdoms,” the Overlord gave Elwell a knowing look, then took her staff from where it was leaning against a large oak tree.

“I hear you’re familiar with that time period,” Elwell remarked with a snicker as the Overlord dashed off excitedly. However, upon approaching the tent where Sexist and the Soul-Keeper had been staying, the Overlord almost collided into her new underling, straightening as she glared at him. Sexist didn’t say anything to her, but turned his head away rather stiffly, not daring to make eye contact. A single step forward, and he was stopped again, by something attaching itself to his leg.

In confusion, he glanced down, holdings his hands up at approximately shoulder level in fear as the little blue person hugged his leg. “Smurf!” one of the Smurfs yelled, another flying into Sexist in a tackle-hug. Sexist stood as still as he could, a few heartbeats away from hyperventilated. The Overlord merely leaned back and watched in amusement as the entire tribe of Smurfs began surrounding him, forming a small blue crowd.

“Smurf, Smurf, Smurf!” they chanted.

“They seem quite taken with you,” the Animal Tamer remarked with a laugh. The Overlord had noticed that the Animal Tamer was feeling better, despite a nasty limp she had. She was using her staff to walk better, but had been spending a lot of time sitting on Fluffy, who could take her to various parts of the camp. The Evocator had spent a lot of time healing her wounds, but the Ninja-Lord’s death seemed to be the one wound that no one could heal.

“Oh, I’ve gathered that much already,” Sexist said sourly.

The Overlord trotted past, flashing him a smug smile before entering her tent. Pulling her katana out of its sheath, then slinging it into her belt, she strapped her staff to her back and began attempting to calculate who would be the best options to take to the Han Dynasty era. She presumed the Soul-Keeper would be a poor option, generalizing this statement on his ability to begin casting random spells. While magic was common in the Between, the more primitive Han Dynasty Chinese were bound to be baffled by conjuring spells. But, a second thought flashed through her head, and she grinned- no, perhaps the Soul-Keeper wasn’t the right guy for the job, but she knew who would be. The Grasshopper would have to come, merely for the experience. She presumed Jamie would show up, possibly the Witch, and the Twin was guaranteed to want to help. The Overlord scratched the back of her neck, knowing that the Rebel Commander was still potentially searching for their camp.

“Leave the Soul-Keeper in charge,” the Theurgist leaned against a post holding up the tent, “He works well with Centurion Ifill. Take the Evocator. She’s the only one you’ll need for this.”

“The others will be pissed,” the Overlord glanced back at him, “See, that’s the thing about being an Overlord. You make a decision and SOMEONE isn’t going to be happy with you anyways.”

“Your plan involves trickery, doesn’t it? You don’t need an army for that,” the Theurgist pointed out, “They’ll understand later.”

“I guess one part about being an Overlord is...” the Overlord sighed, “You can’t think like everyone else.”

“I hear it’s a lonely job,” the Theurgist remarked.

“It is,” the Overlord nodded her head briskly, then walked out of the tent. The Theurgist took his chinchilla form, and scurried up onto her shoulder, muttering a small complaint beneath his breath. The Overlord couldn’t help but smirk, but it quickly faded as she caught the many gazes staring at her. ‘They all want to know what my next move is,’ she thought, stifling a groan. Sweeping her gaze across the campsite, she ignored the pressing stares from the majority of her army, instead looking for the Evocator. When she spied her by the Soul-Keeper, the Overlord gestured for her to follow.

“I’ll be back soon,” the Overlord grabbed the computer that Elwell was carrying and began walking away, into the forest.

“What about the rest of us?” the Advisor pressed.

“Sit tight,” the Overlord shrugged, then continued walking, the Evocator following her awkwardly. Looking over her shoulder at the Evocator, the Overlord flashed her a grin before shoving the computer into her hands as soon as they were out of sight. “At least they didn’t follow.”

“Eh...?” the Evocator looked down at the computer in her arms, then glanced questioningly at the Overlord, “Need I ask?”

“Nope!” the Overlord frowned, then snapped her fingers, “We need one more person!”

“Huh...?” the Evocator raised an eyebrow as the Overlord vanished in a puff of smoke. Seconds later, she reappeared, holding onto the Lieutenant’s arm.

As the Evocator gave the Lieutenant the heavy equipment, the Overlord began trotting onward a few steps before stopping, casting the leafy forest floor a disgruntled look, then grabbing onto both the Lieutenant and the Evocator. A second puff of smoke and the three were sitting at a cafe, listening to what sounded like melodramatic elevator music. The fresh scent of coffee flooded her nostrils, and the Overlord purchased a cup for herself, downing it as the Lieutenant plugged the computer cord into the wall. Ignoring the suspicious glances they were receiving from the cafe workers. The Lieutenant checked the batteries on the mouse, frowning and testing the sensor. Frantically, the Overlord rocked back and forth on her feet, finishing off her coffee.

“So, how does this work again?” the Lieutenant asked, scratching the back of his neck.

“You put us at approximately... 190 AD,” the Overlord nodded, “Han Dynasty. China. We’re going there and picking up a... Very old inspiration of mine.”

“Inspiration?” the Evocator quirked her eyebrow.

“More like an attack dog. Every Overlord needs one,” the Overlord remarked. As the Lieutenant began operating the computer, the Overlord turned to face the Evocator, “Now, we’ve an hour to persuade this guy to join our forces. He’s a bit of a brute, not gonna lie. He likes killing things, so we’ll offer that up on a silver platter.”

“Sounds charming,” the Evocator said dryly, but smirked nonetheless.

“Enchant him with magic. It’ll be like showing a cavemen a bonfire,” the Overlord added, “Follow my lead. Naturally.” Casting a gander at the Lieutenant, she waited until he gave the appropriate ‘thumbs up’. ‘Let’s think of all of the things that can go wrong...’ the Overlord thought to herself as she clasped hands with the Evocator. ‘We end up getting eaten by a dinosaur because the Lieutenant threw us back too far. We end up getting arrested by some crazy people that don’t even speak English... We end up getting eaten by cannibals...’

There was a blinding flash of light and the Overlord decided it was best to think optimistically.


---


The Maverick was, as it turns out, an interesting entity. Over the course of the past few days, the Ninja-Lord had come to realize that the Maverick’s caverns were nestled somewhere between the Fortress and Fort Effort, meaning she knew that on one side, she would have to deal with the Nemesis and the other side, the Insurgent Leader was probably still looking for her. The tunnel system was dimly lit with glowing mushrooms, which the Ninja-Lord had previously thought were poisonous, but then caught Maverick occasionally nibbling on them (then again, Maverick’s sanity was very much in question). A few openings in the rock walls let in dim light, and there were small cliffs that could overlook the scenery. The red-stoned mountains, the Ninja-Lord realized, were more hollowed out than she had ever realized.

Days spent usually inside involved the Ninja-Lord attempting to run errands for Maverick, who was busy at work with some sort of metals in a back room. The Ninja-Lord found many reasons to traverse the caverns system, and had watched the sun rise and set each day from a particularly small overhang that viewed the Fortress. The fearsome dragons had been her main concern upon looking at the frozen wastelands, watching as they patrolled the skies. Occasionally, a massive, long-necked dragon would land on the roof above the Overlord’s office, and she would watch as it soared away in the evening- usually bearing a rider. It would head over the mountaintops and towards Fort Effort, no doubt to pay the DIB soldiers there a visit. The wasteland between the forest and the Fortress was a solid block of ice, unable to travel on without serious problems. The dragons that flew out to the horizons only made things more difficult.

The Ninja-Lord had, therefore, not left the caverns, unsure of where she could go. Her energy was not up yet for her to make a between-world jump, knowing that the ANF armies had probably written her off as dead. Instead, she continued her exploring, though had found a particularly odd looking door somewhere in the heart of the mountains that had been inaccessible. When she had attempted to open it, Maverick had come swooping out of nowhere, forcing her away from the ancient door angrily. Something told the Ninja-Lord that a strong magic bound the runes that marked the edges of the door- she probably couldn’t open it if she tried.

Since then, the Ninja-Lord had done her best not to get onto the Maverick’s bad side. She usually did what she was told and found that Maverick was quite pleasant company, despite her insanity. It was evident that Maverick was trying to help her, though the Ninja-Lord was unsure how she really could. The answer eventually came on a particularly boring day, while the Ninja-Lord had been sitting on the usual ledge, watching the dragons as they flew high above the Fortress.

“Soulless one bored?” Maverick cooed from the depths of a small opening back into the caverns. The Ninja-Lord raised her eyebrows and looked at where Maverick’s head had popped out of the dirt seemingly, hood still drawn over her features, “Wants to fly like dragons?”

“I don’t have wings. I can’t fly,” the Ninja-Lord stated flatly, rather irritated with waiting.

“Soulless one would be crazy if she thinks that she can be like bird or dragon,” the Maverick cackled, “Maverick knows... Soulless one cannot fly. But she can fight.”

“I lost my sword arm. In case you hadn’t noticed.”

“So I makes her a new one.”

The Ninja-Lord stared at Maverick silently as the hooded being plopped down on the ledge next to her. Maverick produced a silver arm from the inside of her robe (the Ninja-Lord hoped she had been keeping it in a conveniently large pocket), holding it up for the Ninja-Lord to see. Surprisingly enough, it was well crafted, glinting dangerously in the setting sun’s light. The bolts and plates were smoothly secured and the Ninja-Lord pressed the arm against her shoulder, watching as small, tendrils of wires attached themselves to her shoulder, probing her skin lightly. The arm was suctioned onto her, an electrical sensation crawling up the Ninja-Lord’s spine. She gasped, the hand opening wide in shock.

“How did you...? What the....!?” the Ninja-Lord breathed, the silver arm twitching, “Is it enchanted? No... It’s like... a robot! How did you make this!?”

“Maverick’s friend told Maverick how,” Maverick answered gleefully.

“Well... Tell him I said thanks!” the Ninja-Lord stammered.

“He’s dead,” Maverick said plainly.

The Ninja-Lord rose from the ground, holding up her arm so that it caught the light, “I’ll need to wear long gloves... But this will work. I-I can’t believe it... I’ll be able to fight again!” She drew her sword from its hilt with the new hand, taking in a deep breath. “This is perfect...” She’d be able to fight Blondie once more. She could be of use to ANF, instead of just an one-armed nuisance. The Ninja-Lord flashed a smile at the overthrown Fortress, unable to stifle a gleeful laugh. She was back in the game!

“Rose,” the Maverick held out her hand.

“What?” the Ninja-Lord turned and looked at Maverick, confusion evident in her eyes.

“My rose. You give me rose for arm,” the Maverick insisted, hand still held out for the Ninja-Lord.

“I... Uhhh don’t have a rose,” the Ninja-Lord stammered, feeling a stab of guilt in her chest for being unable to repay the hooded hermit.

“Fine. Then Maverick waits for pay. Soulless one gives Maverick pay. Or Maverick will take arm back!” Maverick folded her arms stubbornly. The Ninja-Lord looked Maverick up and down, biting her lip as she tried to think of how she could sway the old hermit to leave her alone.

“Isn’t my thanks enough?” the Ninja-Lord tried desperately.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. You wait here for the rose.”

“No.”

“What?”

Maverick’s eyes glinted madly behind her hood as she stared at the Ninja-Lord, “Maverick join you. Join Anti-Nemesis Faction. Can help. Can help, but wants roses. More roses. Lots of roses.” As the Ninja-Lord began to speak, the Maverick continued, “Wants to see the Firebrand. Many years since I seen her. New name for herself, methinks she might have. Firebrand always gives her roses. Beautiful, rosy red! We go find them. Go to Earth. Defeat the ice, defeat its master.”

“I...” the Ninja-Lord sighed, realizing she didn’t have much of a choice, “Okay...”