TOS - Vol 2, Pt 3, Ch 32

The Overlord Saga

Vol II. Versus

Chapter 32: Impromptu

The Apprentice was having trouble sleeping. Though she couldn’t erase the events from the previous day from her mind, she found that her dreams actually didn’t involve the brutal slaying of the blacksmith. No, instead, they involved being watched. Everywhere she turned, there was a man in a black robe. And he was watching her. Always watching. She couldn’t shut her eyes without seeing him, his emotionless gaze locked on her. The second night since the murder, the Apprentice was resting easier, however, than she had the night before. Previously, she’d spent the majority of the night counting up the armor and weapons that had been stolen from Skingrad. There was quite the collection now, and she suspected that they would be bidding Cyrodiil farewell soon. And she was glad- perhaps she’d leave behind the dreams of the eerie robed man, too.

Sitting up in her bed, the Apprentice rubbed her eyes, glancing over at where Jamie was snoring softly in the bed next to hers. And beyond her was the Evocator, curled up with a book under her arm- the Theurgist’s journal. The Apprentice sighed, then looked over to her other side, at where the Animal Tamer was sleeping. However, her view was blocked... By a large, black form. Slowly craning her head back, the Apprentice found herself staring at a partially concealed face- the face of a man draped in black robes.

“You sleep soundly for a murderer,” the man whispered excitedly, eyes alight with emotion, but a kind that the Apprentice did not want to see. There was a scream. There was a bolt of lightning. And then, the Apprentice was looking down upon the robed man once more, her eyes wide in shock and her hands clinging onto the railing of the bed frame.

That night, Jamie decided it was best if they departed from Cyrodiil at once.


---


Fort Effort was bustling with activity the following morning. Fish and McCoy were still in poor shape, though the Sorceress had arrived and had begun seeing to the two injured ANF soldiers. The Twin had taken charge of the ANF alongside Jamie, and both had come to the agreement that they needed to begin equipping the soldiers, despite the Overlord’s absence. This caused a tremendous amount of chaos, as the waiting line to receive better armor grew as the hours went on. Rather annoyed with the mayhem in Fort Effort, the Ninja-Lord walked alongside the Twin and Jamie, listening to their concerns.

“No contact. In about a week now,” the Twin remarked, glancing at Jamie worriedly, “I’ve half a mind to send the Ninja Squadron after her. Ninja-Lord, would you protest?”

“Of course not,” the Ninja-Lord replied, “If she’d not answering her cellphone...”

“It’s not just that, it’s the Soul-Keeper’s, too. And the Advisor’s,” Jamie explained. “Then again, the Sorceress said that she’d talked to them yesterday at her lair. They have to be okay.”

“But they didn’t come back from the base. What if DIB has them right now?” the Twin sighed, “What if the Nemesis has her? I would... No. I would not allow that.”

“Maybe wait a day...?” the Ninja-Lord suggested with a simple shrug.

“OY!” a loud voice boomed down the hall. All three girls spun around to see the Lieutenant waving his arms about in the air. “The Overlord’s at the gates! Captain’s letting her in now! She says she hasn’t found the last Elite member yet!”

“Venice,” the Twin groaned, “Of course.”

“Who?” the Ninja-Lord inquired.

“She was a grand warrior a long time ago. Used to lead the Elite, but she vanished right after the Great War. She taught the Overlord a few special tactics with a sword. No one’s seen her in ages,” the Twin explained rapidly, “The Scholar mentioned that she’d last been seen on a world called Spira. But that was a long time ago.” Looking at the Lieutenant, the Twin nodded, “Tell her to meet me in the meeting room. We’ll go over our plan then. It’s high time we strike the Nemesis.”

“Will do!” the Lieutenant saluted her smartly, then vanished down the corridor.

“Well, she’s back now,” Jamie nodded, “That solves one crisis.”

“And opens a lot more problems. I hope she’s okay. You know she’s been acting odd ever since the Theurgist died,” the Twin remarked. “It’s like she’s distracted.”

“No. She’s not distracted, trust me,” the Ninja-Lord replied, “If anything? She’s focused. But she... Doesn’t want to face the Nemesis. Not yet. Why? I don’t know. I suspect she’s scared. Because something happened when the Nemesis attacked. Something she hasn’t told us.”

“She said she almost died,” Jamie said with a shrug, “That’s more than enough motivation to be scared.”

“Hm. But not for her,” the Ninja-Lord remarked, “That’s not the Overlord I know.”

---


The meeting hall was crowded, yet quiet. The Overlord sat at the head of the table with Jamie, the Twin, Elwell, and a few of the other ANF leaders. She rested her chin on a clutched fist, elbow pressing into the table. Down the sides of the table rested the Overling Council, each armed adequately and adorned with new armor. The Overlord eyed the fresh robes that the Soul-Keeper was sporting, the ANF insignia on his cape.

“I do approve of the new uniforms, by the way,” the Overlord remarked lightly, straightening up, then glancing down at where the Scholar sat. She and the Scholar had already discussed the Nemesis’ plans- though the Overlord couldn’t say she was surprised. It seemed cliche, almost to the point of flat-out ripping off from other criminals. The Overlord had told herself that she would not allow the Nemesis to win, and she knew she was going to stand by those words, even if it took years to take him down. Clearing her throat, the Overlord began, “You said you’ve heard from Venice?”

“She’s on Spira, so I’ve heard,” the Scholar replied, “She regularly attends concerts, specifically ones performed by the new pop sensation Yuna. There’s actually a concert that Venice has tickets for that’s in the next day.”

“So we find her at this concert?” the Overlord asked, leaning back in her chair, “Easy enough.”

“Not so fast, there’s a catch.”

“Of course.”

“Concert’s sold out. And there’s no way to get in unless you’re the songstress yourself,” the Scholar shuffled a few papers around in front of her. “Now, Spira is reliant on a type of technology called ‘Dresspheres’. Dresspheres are outfits that have been made from memories, right? I merely extracted a few memories from hardcore Yuna fans, and received a dressphere of my own. She always performs in the same dress.”

“I don’t think I like where this is going,” the Overlord’s voice dropped to monotone and dull, staring at the Scholar from across the table.

“Let’s face it. You look kinda like her. Granted, your hair needs to be cut and dyed a bit, but you could easily pass for her. In the right outfit, the right lighting- you’ll be a perfect Yuna,” the Scholar folded her hands rather politely, staring at the Overlord evenly.

“Uhhh there’s no way I’m doing this. I can’t even sing!” the Overlord exclaimed.

“I’ve made arrangements. The Captain and the Lieutenant will nab the real Yuna. The Apprentice has karaoke powers? She can cover the singing and the music will be live. We have an instructional video for choreography, so you can learn that today. All you have to do is look like you’re her,” the Scholar shrugged, “And then, you find a way to get Venice backstage with you, then explain the situation.”

The Overlord stared across the table at the Overling council members. ‘This might be fun’, she thought for a brief moment, rubbing her forehead, ‘But this is something that the Soul-Keeper will never let me live down’. She glanced at the Twin, “What do you think?”

“It’s the only way. Either we do it and get Venice, or we don’t and fight DIB without her,” the Twin shrugged.

Sighing, the Overlord stood up from the table, glancing sideways at the giggling Evocator, Soul-Keeper, and Animal Tamber. “... As long as no one films this and puts it on Youtube... Eh, why not?”

“That’s the spirit!” the Scholar threw an arm around the Overlord, “Now, we need to get your hair cut, a Garment Grid for the dressphere, and you need to start learning the Real Emotion dance! This’ll be fun!”

The Overlord immediately felt a pang of regret.

---

Spira proved to be an odd world indeed. Though the previous night had been spent at Fort Effort, the Overlord had been doing some hardcore research on Spira and its inhabitants, concluding that anyone in their right mind would steer clear of the place. Such thought made her fear for Venice’s sanity. What if her old friend and mentor had lost her mind completely? Walking the streets of Luca, some harbor city that seemed to be the hub of sports and entertainment, the Overlord found herself running her hands through her now significantly shorter hair. It had been weeks since she’d spiked it last, letting it fall straight and down. Her hair was now lighter as well, with a more burgundy tint to it, though it was hardly different than Yuna’s own hair color. A few blonde streaks ran through it, contrasting to the dark brown it had been.

“The fashion here isn’t the greatest,” the Ninja-Lord was in a disguise as well, though had shirked the more skankily clad Spira clothes. She wore a yellow suite of some sort, decorated with buckles and red plates of armor. A set of goggles sat atop her head, adding onto the oddness.

“What beggar did you take that get-up from?” the Overlord snorted, though, knew her own elegant robes were a little out-of-fashion.

“Funny. The Scholar told me to give you this,” the Ninja-Lord handed the Overlord a small circular device with a few gaping crevasses in its middle. “It’s a Garment Grid. Apparently, you put the dresspheres in them... There’s four in there now. I don’t know what the other three are, but this one...” she pointed at the one in the middle, “... Is the Songstress one.”

“Great...” the Overlord took the Garment Grid, then pocketed it, “Any word from the Captain and the Lieutenant?”

“They have, as they call it... ‘bagged a ho’,” the Ninja-Lord grinned, “Looks like we’re on for tonight.”

“Great,” the Overlord nodded, “I’ve about had enough of that song and the dance to last me awhile. Guess I’ll be ready for the big performance.” She sighed running her hand through her spiked hair one last time, “I haven’t had enough Monsters for this.”

“The Scholar wanted me to remind you that we’ll have extra body guards around the place. She’s stationed the Soul-Keeper and Sexist at one entrance, me and the Twin in another, and the Captain and the Lieutenant are guarding your dressing room. Jamie is running security on the second floor. The Apprentice will be out of sight somewhere near you. Your back-up dancers are the Witch and Kunoichi.”

“Fitting,” the Overlord nodded, “Let’s hope this works... Why so much security?”

“Just to be safe,” the Ninja-Lord shrugged, “Wouldn’t want you to get trampled by a thousand dedicated fans, now would we?”

“Oh, you’re so funny,” the Overlord scowled, “Why did I sign up for this?”


---


The day had flown by rather quickly for everyone. Patrolling the halls, Centurion Ifill walked in her guards’ outfit, pike in hand. She glanced around the corner, looking at where some of the fans were flooding into the concert hall. On her walkie-talkie, she discreetly said, “Centurion Ifill, in position. It’s about to be showtime. I have a lot of fans coming in from the north.” She stopped, taking note of Belarus and China on the far side of the crowd. “Security staff is present and prepared for anything. How’s the second floor?”

A few seconds later, there came a reply, “Quiet,” it was the Animal Tamer’s Pet, “Well, not quiet... but there’s no trouble. Just a lot of fans.”

“I hear ya.” It was Underling Willma who spoke next.

“Main entrance is clear.” Sexist, no doubt with the Soul-Keeper somewhere by the front. Centurion Ifill nodded to herself, glancing up at the fans as they entered. Something caught her eye, however, a particular uniform. Dark eyes narrowed, she began to follow the crowd in, stepping into the auditorium as a particularly slender man started down the stairs. Fighting back a gasp of surprise, Centurion Ifill turned, fought her way through some of the fans, grasping her walkie talkie.

“Code Red. I have a visual on Jester,” Centurion Ifill whispered. “Red hair, skinny as can be, jeans that cling onto his butt like a girl- it has to be him.”

“What floor?” the Twin asked, “Hold on... Ninja-Lord, those are DIB soldiers!”

“Ohhhhh boy,” Centurion Ifill remarked, “DIB soldiers are here? What for?”

“Probably know what’s up,” Jamie sighed from her end of the walkie talkie. “Sexist, Soul-Keeper, shut off the doors once the last fans are in. We’ll trap them in here. We have half the army in this concert hall, we can fight them off here.”

“There’s innocent people here!” the Evocator protested suddenly, “We can’t just...!”

“We can. And we will if we have to,” the Twin said firmly, “But only if we have to. Don’t go charging into a fight. And don’t tell the Overlord. She’s nervous enough already.”

“Don’t tell her? That sounds like a GREAT idea,” Sexist remarked sourly.

“The show must go on!” the Soul-Keeper said dramatically, “And WE have to make sure it does!”

“... Colby, you’re insane,” the Evocator stated flatly, and the conversation ended.

---


It was show time before she knew it. Glancing at the Garment Grid, the Overlord activated the central orb, causing her outfit to alter into a sleek purple and white dress. She glanced down at the outfit, noticing her mid-drift was showing. In the mirror, she looked at herself, feeling very unnatural in the dressing room. Turning to leave, she caught a glimpse of something from the corner of her eye. Spinning around, grabbing her sword, unsheathing it, and pointing it at the person, she yelled something, but it was incoherent.

“Relax,” the Theurgist sounded amused, “I just got here. I haven’t been watching you change, promise.”

“Not helping,” the Overlord retorted, but sheathed Kagi. “Where’ve you been anyways? I was looking for you.” She was suddenly reminded of the haunted mansion and shuddered, recalling the twisted version of the Theurgist she had seen at the end of her venture. “Off on some spirit thing?”

“You could say that,” the Theurgist stroked his facial hair thoughtfully, “We need to talk, but after you’re done with your...” He eyed the outfit skeptically, “... Thing.”

“My thing? That’s very eloquent,” the Overlord retorted.

“Well, for once, you’ve rendered my vocabulary useless. I have no idea what to call whatever it is you’re wearing,” the Theurgist retorted.

“Try ‘dress’, Alexi,” the Overlord responded with her usual cynicism.

“Okay. Dress,” the Theurgist chuckled, arms folded.

From outside, the Captain could be heard, “HEY! You talkin’ to yourself in there? It’s about time to go! Witch and Kunoichi are already on the stage!” The Overlord glanced from the door to the Theurgist, shrugging. The Theurgist grinned then waved at her.

“Break a leg.”

“Oh you know it.”

Opening the door and stepping out into the hall, the Overlord didn’t look at the Lieutenant and the Captain, “I feel like I’m about to go poledance,” she remarked, then continued down the hall with a rather sullen expression. When she reached the door to the stage, she cast a glance back over her shoulder at where the Theurgist was giving her a partially see-through ‘thumbs up’. She flashed him a very fake, very sour looking smile, then stepped onto the circular stage.

It was then that the Overlord realized that Spiran technology was more advanced than Earthian technology. The stage, a brightly-lit circle, ascended into the air, poised several feet above the first row. The Overlord wondered, briefly, if they could look up her skirt, and felt extremely self-conscious. ‘But it’s not me they’re looking at. It’s Yuna... So that makes it better... Right? Right?’ The more logical half of her answered, ‘Wrong.’

She knew the music was about to begin. Glancing at where the Witch and Kunoichi were both in their own disguises, she offered a half-smile, catching sight of Apprentice just below them. What happened next, the Overlord was unsure, but some glow in the Apprentice’s eyes caught her attention, transfixing her entirely.

“Overlord?” the Witch asked very quietly, but her voice was lost in the screams of the fans.

“It’s showtime!” the Overlord announced, and the roar of the crowd filled the auditorium.

---

Sexist and the Soul-Keeper had shut off the entrance to the stadium, and were standing in the doorway on the first floor. “What is she wearing?” the Soul-Keeper snorted with laughter, arms tucked into the sleeves of his guard outfit. Sexist, who was leaning passively against the doorway, shrugged carelessly, though watched in interest as the music began playing.

“There’s a place downtown where the freaks all come around
It’s a hole in the wall
It’s a dirty free-for-all
When they, they, they...”

“That’s not the right song!” the Soul-Keeper’s eyes widened in horror. Sexist perked up and looked at the stage in confusion.

“What is she doing!?” Sexist muttered, brow furrowed.

“When the dark of the night
Comes around, that’s the time
That the animal comes alive
Looking for something wild.”

“N-now we lookin’ like pimps
In my gold Trans-AM
Got a water bottle full of whiskey in my hand bag
Got my drunk text on
I’ll regret it in the morning
But tonight, I don’t give a, I don’t give a, I don’t give a-”

“There’s a place downtown
Where the freaks all come around
It’s a hole in the wall
It’s a dirty free-for-all
And they turn me on
When they take it off
When they take it off
Everybody take it off!”

“There’s a place I know
If you’re looking for a show
Where they go hardcore
And there’s glitter on the floor
And they turn me on
When they take it off
When they take it off
Everybody take it off.”

“Oh my God, what is she SINGING!?” Sexist added incredulously. He gazed across the crowd, but they all seemed to be enjoying it... Except... “The DIB soldiers...” Sexist grabbed the Soul-Keeper’s arm suddenly, pointing at where Jester was watching the Overlord perform in suspicion. As Jester’s eyes swept across the area, Sexist ducked, dragging the Soul-Keeper with him. “This isn’t good. They’re going to realize it’s the wrong singer.”

“She’s really rocking out up there...” the Soul-Keeper remarked.

“Will you focus!?” Sexist hissed angrily, grabbing the Soul-Keeper’s arm.

“Lose your mind
Lose it now
Lose your clothes in the crowd
We’re delirious
Tear it down
‘Til the sun comes back around.”

“Now we’re gettin’ so smashed
Knockin’ over trashcans
E’erybody breakin’ bottles
It’s a filthy hot mess and
Gonna get faded
I’m not the designated driver so
I don’t give a, I don’t give a, I don’t give a-”

“There’s a place downtown
Where the freaks all come around
It’s a hole in the wall
It’s a dirty free-for-all
And they turn me on
When they take it off
When they take it off
Everybody take it off!”

“There’s a place I know
If you’re looking for a show
Where they go hardcore
And there’s glitter on the floor
And they turn me on
When they take it off
When they take it off
Everybody take it off.”

“Oh, oh, oh
Everybody take it off
Oh, oh, oh
Everybody take it off
Right now- Take it off
Right now- Take it off
Right now- Take it off
Oh!”

As that was repeating, Sexist caught a glimpse of the Twin on the far side of the concert, looking as confused as he was. He tried to catch her attention, but realized that Jester had seen her as well. As Jester grabbed a knife, Sexist launched an icicle at the DIB member, pushing over a Spiran as he did so. The Soul-Keeper pulled out his staff and began firing bolts of lightning at the DIB soldiers as they drew their weapons. The Twin drew her bowstring back and fired as Jester recovered from the blow. He knocked the arrow aside with a dagger, then launched a throwing knife at the Twin.

“ANF members! Attack!” Jamie yelled through the walkie talkie.

As the DIB members rallied, the ANF members began to take their battle positions. Jamie jumped from the second floor, grabbing onto a nearby railing with lights and slid down, drawing her pistol and firing at Jester as he rushed at the Twin. Sexist pinned a soldier to the ground with his claymore, then looked up as the Overlord finished off the song.

“There’s a place downtown
Where the freaks all come around
It’s a hole in the wall
It’s a dirty free-for-all
And they turn me on
When they take it off
When they take it off
Everybody take it off!”

“There’s a place I know
If you’re looking for a show
Where they go hardcore
And there’s glitter on the floor
And they turn me on
When they take it off
When they take it off
Everybody take it off.”


“You’ll never find her!” Jester sneered, drawing a sword from its sheath at his side. “She’s ours!” He turned to face Sexist, gnashing his teeth together angrily.

“You have Venice!?” the Twin aimed another arrow at his back.

“Took her as she entered the concert. Probably halfway to the bottom of the ocean by now,” Jester spat at her, moving to where he could see both Sexist and the Twin. “Stupid ANF... Can’t even set up a proper security system...”

“No. The Venice I know wouldn’t be caught by a scrawny-ass punk like you,” the Twin sneered back, releasing the arrow. Jester turned and sliced it in half, but was unprepared for Sexist’s charge. A gush of water struck him in the side, knocking him away into the crowd. By this time, the crowd had begun to panic in the midst of the battle. Gunshots were being fired, and mayhem was starting to ensue. The Overlord was partially collapsed on the stage, halfway dazed and watching the events from above in horror and fascination.

“The ‘Venice’ you know? She’s sorta standing right behind you,” a voice added. The Twin turned and looked at a slender figure as she stepped from the shadows, sword drawn in one hand and covered to the handle in crimson. Her medium brown hair was tied back into a ponytail, her armor smeared with sanguine as though it had been splatter-painted. “Sorry. Had to rough a few guys up in the alley,” She didn’t sound remotely apologetic.

“Damn it!” Jester swore, holding his sword so tightly that his knuckles were white. “Ugh... Why can’t I ever do anything right?”

“Hey emo bitch, go cry yourself to sleep,” the Captain had appeared, rocket launcher over his shoulder. As he fired, Jester vanished in a puff of smoke, warping out of the way. Venice and the Twin threw themselves to the side, Sexist moving behind a pillar to avoid the missile as it hit the side of the stadium.

“We should... Probably go now...” the Soul-Keeper stammered. “Someone grab the Overlord, she looks lost.” He gestured with his staff to where the Overlord was standing on stage still, a far-off glint in her eyes.

“W-what happened?” the Overlord stammered as Jamie began guiding her away from the stage gently. “Why don’t I remember...?”

“Shhh... It’s quiet time, Emmy,” Jamie patted the Overlord’s head gently with one hand, snatching the Apprentice’s hood with the other. Although attempting to give her a scolding look, Jamie couldn’t help but crack a smile. Hissing under her breath, Jamie remarked, “You could’ve at least picked a decent song.”

“Eh. What can I say?” the Apprentice retorted with an uncertain chuckle.

TOS - Vol 2, Pt 3, Ch 31

The Overlord Saga

Vol II. Versus

Chapter 31: Twisted

The Overlord awoke without a start, but with a giant headache. She groaned, rolled over onto her side and blinked, realizing she was not on the usual prisoner’s cot, but on a bed. She forced herself to slip from the mattress and onto the ground, her feet wobbling as she tried to support herself. The staff appeared in her hand and she used it to stable herself. Moving to the door from what looked like some odd bedroom, the Overlord found herself in a small stone corridor, curving around to an unknown destination. She began to walk, only because she felt unnerved by the thought of what could happen if she stood still.

Her pace quickened, breathing parallel, and eyes darting toward the shadows. As she glanced over her shoulder in paranoia, the hallway curved suddenly, snaking around and catching her off guard. Slamming straight into something, she, at first, believed she had hit a wall. A few moments later, it dawned on her that she had run straight into someone’s back. Staggering back a few paces, the Overlord’s right hand summoned an orb of flame, lightning the dim corridor.

“What the hell!?” the Overlord demanded, the fiery orb pulsing with an unseen animosity.

“Oh,” a brief pause. “You’re awake.”

Vision snapping into place, the Overlord took notice of the long, flowing navy robes that draped over the woman’s torso, stretching down to the floor and covering her feet. The woman’s hair was an inch or two past shoulder-length, a mixture between brown and blonde, and framed her face. She had a pair of glasses that sat neatly atop her nose, giving her a more intellectual look than the goons that stood behind her, who were far more rough and brutish. Her left hand was on her hip, her right hand carrying a well-designed metal staff that was topped with some clear sphere.

“Sorceress,” the Overlord said suddenly, eyes stretched wide in realization. The orb of fire vanished instantly, and she lowered her guard, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Way to trespass onto my territory,” the Sorceress remarked, her voice not edged with the usual friendliness that the Overlord was used to. Brows furrowed, the Overlord’s shoulders tensed, debating on whether or not she should summon the fire back. The Sorceress flung her arms around the Overlord suddenly, taking her off guard, “Chica, I missed you!” The Overlord grinned in response and hugged the Sorceress back.

“Scared me for a moment,” the Overlord chuckled, then released the Sorceress, “So... You were the guys that ambushed us?”

“Yeah, we thought you were... Someone else,” the Sorceress said, slightly abashed, “But, hey, whatever, it’s cool now, I guess, right?” She sounded overly hopeful, but the Overlord wasn’t about to make any moves to anger her.

“Sure,” the Overlord shrugged, “So long as you bail me out of some trouble.”

“DIB?” the Sorceress asked, quirking an eyebrow and catching the Overlord by surprise. Before she could ask, however, the Sorceress explained, “They were by here. A group of them. Looking for you. We thought you guys were them, so we attacked. Their leader wasn’t the nicest of people...”

“The Nemesis...?”

“No. Some scrawny, pissy guy.”

“Oh. Jester.”

“Yeah, that was his name.” There was a pause of silence as the Sorceress motioned for the Overlord to follow her. As the two began down the stone hall, the Sorceress began talking once more, “Your friends... The boys... they were half-crazed when we got them here. Kept ranting and raving about these hallucinations they were having. Took me a bit to realize they’d consumed some of the local cactus juice. Not a smart idea out here.”

‘Figures. Sexist would totally have crap luck like that,’ the Overlord thought with a wry smile. “Are they okay?” the Overlord asked, glancing at the Sorceress. In response, the Sorceress giggled, gesturing for the Overlord to enter a door to their left. As the Overlord turned the knob, she heard various voices in the next room, recognizing one as the Soul-Keeper’s. Feel a twinge of fear, the Overlord opened the door, stepping in to see a few of the Sorceress’ cronies attempting to feed the Soul-Keeper some sort of concoction. The Soul-Keeper was running around the room, flailing his arms about in protest.

“I DON’T WANNA, I DON’T WANNA, I DON’T WANNA!”

“Oh Lord,” the Overlord facepalmed.

“The antidote speeds up recovery. Even if he doesn’t take it, he’ll be fine in a day,” the Sorceress said reassuringly.

The Overlord snorted, “Serves him right.” Glancing over at where Sexist was curled up in the fetal position, she frowned, then began to walk over to him. He sent a kick to one of the goons’ groin, knocking him over, before returning back into his huddled stance in the corner. The Overlord knelt down next to Sexist, who was shaking uncontrollably. “Psst. What are you doing?” the Overlord whispered to him, motioning for the cronies to give them some space.

“It’s awful,” Sexist whispered back, “They want to give me this drink. I think it has date-rape in it.”

Puzzled, the Overlord stared at Sexist, frowning at him, “Why do you say that?”

“Because it’s a conspiracy,” he whispered back, a very serious expression on his face.

The Overlord’s eyes widened, “Ohhh... Gotcha...”

“I usually don’t like talking to trees. But you’re a very nice one,” Sexist added.

‘... Oh wow, he thinks I’m a tree,’ she thought dismally. The Overlord stood up, glancing back at the Sorceress, “... I don’t care if you have to strap them down to something, make sure they’re better within the day. I have a lot I need to get done.”

“So I hear. Your Advisor was telling me about your travels,” the Sorceress remarked lightly, “She told me that the Corporal is with you...” There was a certain light in her eyes that made even the Overlord smile- albeit ever so slightly.

“Mmmhmm,” the Overlord gave her a knowing look before glancing back at the Soul-Keeper and Sexist. The Sorceress’ minions were starting to calm them both down- either that or the two boys were beginning to snap out of their delusional states. Absent-mindedly, the Overlord added, “The rest of the Elite will be there. You should come. It’ll be just like old times.”

“I haven’t fought since the Great War,” the Sorceress mused, leaning against her silver staff in thought. “I haven’t seen the others in years.”

“The Elite was formed to banish darkness like the one we face now,” the Overlord replied firmly, “And I know you’re dying to see him again. You can wipe the dazed, love-struck grin off your face.” There was a chuckle added at the end of the phrase, and the Overlord had the satisfaction of seeing the Sorceress blush.

“Perhaps I’ll go... Then,” the Sorceress said softly, unable to keep the smile suppressed. The Overlord nodded her head vigorously, though said nothing for awhile. The two women slipped from the small room where Sexist and the Soul-Keeper were being kept, and began down the hall in silence. As the walls opened up, the Overlord took note of how big the Sorceress’ lair was, particularly as the corridor ended in a massive room, the ceiling reaching up what looked like miles. ‘We’re in a stone tower’, the Overlord realized, but the lack of sunlight only confirmed her theory- they were underground. Shafts of light poured in from above, however, so she made the assumption that the top quarter of the tower was at least above ground.

“Jester is still in the area, and I cannot allow that. He is a menace to the locals,” the Sorceress added over her shoulder. She had begun to walk once more, and the Overlord hurried after her. Stopping at a massive set of doors, the Sorceress continued, “He’s set up a base near here. It’s quite odd, though, I haven’t seen anything like it. It’s in a city. A mansion of sorts. There’s claims that he’s awoken the dead there.”

“Awoken the dead? Zombies?” the Overlord asked. ‘Of course. The one time I don’t bring the Captain or the Lieutenant with me...’ She folded her arms as the Sorceress opened the chamber doors, revealing what looked like an ancient library. The two stepped in and began walking down the main aisle, past what seemed like countless books.

The Sorceress guided the Overlord through a few rows of books, towards a desk, covered in novels, dictionaries, and a large map. Taking the map in both hands, the Elite member rolled the parchment up and handed it to the Overlord in a few brisk, yet flowing movements. “This will guide you there. I advise you investigate,” the Sorceress stated gently, “... Once Sexist and the Soul-Keeper are healed, that is.”

“If you’ll join the ANF, then I’ll investigate the mansion,” the Overlord promised confidently, pocketing the map without much of a care,“I’ll make sure Jester clears the area. Especially if he’s causing trouble.”

“Excellent,” the Sorceress said pleasantly.


---


“This is a bad, bad idea,” the Grasshopper looked up at the dark, foreboding building, her small, thin self falling within the mansion’s shadow. The Overlord stood next to her, hands on her hips as she eyed the eerie structure. It looked like a mixture between a temple and a house- awkwardly erected amongst the smaller houses and shops. She presumed that the mansion once belonged to the leader of the town, though, it looked abandoned with its iron gate, unkept grass, and grimy windows. Weeds were abundant in the flower beds, cobwebs clung to the window sills, and the Overlord sensed a chilling aura about the mansion.

“Meh. Who says DIB’s even here?” the Overlord said stubbornly, “Maybe we should just... Not go in and say we did. And say we found nothing.”

“Uhhh I think the DIB flag says that DIB is here,” Sexist pointed at a flag mounted atop the mansion’s roof, clearly expressing the letters ‘D’, ‘I’, and ‘B’. The Overlord’s eyes narrowed at him and she folded her arms with a huff.

“Oh shut up.”

“You promised to do this, remember,” the Advisor folded her arms, giving the Overlord a pointed look, “And you’re the leader. Why don’t you go first?” The Soul-Keeper gave the Overlord a little push forward, silently clutching onto his staff.

“Pft. Whatever. You guys are such wimps,” the Overlord began toward the darkened mansion, moodily pushing open the gate with a hand and not even bothering to hold it open for the Soul-Keeper. “There’s probably nothing in here anyways!” the Overlord hissed over her shoulder as she marched toward the porch, kicking a rock as she did so.

“Angry little thing, isn’t she?” the Soul-Keeper whispered to Sexist.

“Yep, pretty much,” Sexist nodded in agreement.

“ARE YOU COMING OR WHAT?” the Overlord yelled over her shoulder at her minions as they trailed along after her, feet stepping in a monotonous beat. She grabbed the doorknob and opened it confidently, eyes narrowed and chest puffed out.

“I’ll take up the back,” the Advisor remarked, pulling out her machine gun, “Just in case.”

“Good idea,” the Grasshopper nodded, “That way, you die first.” The Advisor shot her an unamused look as they entered the rugged building. The first thing that was blatantly noticeable was that the mansion seemed more like a long hallway, filled with darkness and without light but every few paces.

The Overlord marched forward, not even bothering to draw her katana. The halls seemed deserted in the house. Dust and dirt covered the floors, the tiles either gone or mostly eroded away. The chandelier in the entryway was a nest of cobwebs- the Overlord didn’t even want to think of how many spiders could have been lurking in the cluster. A few pale lights hung ahead, though it didn’t do much to banish the shadows the lurked around her. The only thing that really irked her was the smell- it was so musty and disgusting that she wanted to gag. The piercing silence wasn’t an issue... Until she realized that it was silent.

‘That’s not right.’

Turning around suddenly, the Overlord drew her katana, breathing in deeply and staring at the nothingness that followed her. The pure quiet, the shadows, the empty space where the Soul-Keeper, Sexist, Grasshopper, and Advisor should’ve been. Gasping, the Overlord drew back, then whipped around to face where she’d been going.

“What the...!?”

Where had they gone? Had they taken a turn without her knowing? How long had she been alone? The shadows were beginning to creep in on her, suffocating and closing in. The Overlord turned a third time, this time facing the wooden wall. Kagi’s blade glowed faintly in the unnatural darkness, the sword radiating such warmth that it brushed against her face. The hallway was cold, chilling, and reminded her of death- unchanging no matter how far down it she traveled. Shouldn’t she have hit the back of the mansion by now?

‘This place is a madhouse.’

She began moving faster down the hall now, suddenly taking a turn down another hall that looked almost identical. Almost, except for the light at the end. An exit? She hoped- and began to run, sheathing her katana despite her fears. This was just a mirage. An illusion- that’s what she hoped above everything else. ‘None of this is real.’ It couldn’t be. Her pace transformed into a sprint, her boots clanging against the creaking floor and her hands clasped close to her. Something was moving in the shadows behind her- she was certain of it. A rat? No, it was too big. A flash of something next to her and she swore she saw eyes. And there was breathing other than her- that’s what terrified her the most.

Glancing over her shoulder, a figure framed itself in the light, a mere dark silhouette. ‘Nemesis!’, her mind screamed as the glint of a machete was evident, even in the darkness. And from beneath the helm, she saw the frigid, winter eyes that pierced into hers, paralyzing her. Fearfully, she shut her eyes, trying to block out the image, but he was there, too, within her mind’s eye, glaring her down. The Overlord’s hand grabbed the hilt of her sword, but her shoulder collided into something else- something big. Staggering back, she stifled a scream, heart racing and hands shaking as she stared up at what she’d hit. Fear was overcoming her and she didn’t know why. There was just something so wrong about this place...

“You...” Sexist stammered, appearing in the light. His eyes shone briefly in the dim light, and the Overlord felt a wave of relief. Moving closer to him, she turned and took a gander behind her- finding that nothing was standing there any longer. “Was there something following you?” Sexist asked, too, looking back at where she’d come from.

“I thought...” the Overlord’s words were fumbling over themselves, so she shook her head.

“I got separated from the others,” Sexist admitted, “I can’t find them.”

“How did this happen?” the Overlord asked quietly, “I don’t understand...”

“Stay with me,” he sounded scared, but she didn’t blame him- she was scared, too. The Overlord nodded and the two began down the hall once more, so close to each other that their shoulders constantly brushed each other. Despite their previous animosity, both silently acknowledged that they were all they had to cling onto- whether they liked it or not.

Shuffling down the hall, the two found that the corridor was merely snaking throughout the entirety of the mansion. There were stairs every now and then, and when they reached those, the moved slowly. The Overlord caught glimpses of things moving in the shadows- pale eyes that bore into hers, then vanished as soon as she blinked. She was starting to think that everything within the manor was a part of an illusion. However, this theory was quickly disproved. Upon approaching a corner, the Overlord found herself almost within a foot from a large, masked entity- of what actual species, she was unsure. The only fact remained that it was there, it was humanoid, and it seemed malicious. In all actuality, the Overlord saw the wrinkled, distorted skin, and decided to attack rather than actually look at what was standing before her. This was fortunate as Sexist decided to do the same- and in a flash of both ice and fire, the thing was obliterated- knocked away and sent slamming into the far wall.

However, as soon as both the spells had been launched, the Overlord had thrown her arms around Sexist’s right arm and had buried her face in a high-pitched, ungodly scream that was only outmatched by Sexist’s own cry of fright. There were a few moments of panting and clinging onto each other before either of the two peered over at the entity that they had struck down, taking note that it wasn’t moving.

“Is it dead?” Sexist breathed, his nails practically digging into the Overlord’s back.

“I-I don’t know,” the Overlord’s voice was less than a whisper.

“Let’s go,” Sexist said suddenly, and the Overlord was not about to object. The two began down the hall swiftly, though, the Overlord kept a tight grip on Sexist’s arm, just for comfort’s sake. However, their pace eventually slowed, the Overlord’s limbs trembling too much to even walk properly. A glance over the shoulder was a glimpse at the shadowy version of the Nemesis that seemed to stalk her every move. Without even realizing it, she had moved to where she merely shuffled beside Sexist, her eyes shut and her face buried into his arm.

“Are we almost out of here?” she whispered quietly.

“I-I think so,” Sexist stammered. She hoped he was paying attention to where they were going. She hoped he wasn’t shutting his eyes too.

“You’re the man,” the Overlord said quietly, “You have to be strong and fearless.”

Sexist didn’t say a word in response but merely continued walking. The Overlord wasn’t sure what was happening around her, but she sensed his fear and paranoia. Every now and then, she’d secretly open one of her eyes, peer around them, then continue clinging. However, it became increasingly aware to her that something was bumping against them. Something heavy.

“Emily...” she knew it was bad when he used her real name. She didn’t correct him, though. “... Don’t open your eyes.”

Of course, the Overlord opened her eyes then because he had told her not to. Whether he’d intended for her to open her eyes or not, she did not know. But she opened her eyes, in time to see a large bag hit her gently, and for the brief glimpse of a marred corpse to be imprinted in her mind. There was a scream, then she buried her face into his arm again.

“I OPENED MY EYES!” the Overlord screamed.

“I TOLD YOU NOT TO!” Sexist yelled.

“WHY WOULD YOU TELL ME THAT!?” the Overlord shouted.

“Not my fault!” Sexist argued, and the Overlord figured she couldn’t presently come up with something in response to that. It took awhile before the Overlord realized that they were no longer by the body bags. She opened her eyes, but still kept a hold of his arm, looking around the shadows in paranoia.

That was when she saw the light. A few yards away a door edged with light. Beautiful, glorious light. Sexist began making a full-out sprint for it, leaving the Overlord behind completely. “COME BACK!” the Overlord yelled, pursuing him angrily. ‘Get me out of this damn building!’ she thought desperately, but something seemed to manifest itself between her and the ex-Insurgent. Slowing her pace, the Overlord saw the ghostly image before her as it slowly came into focus, a silvery green with crimson tinging its torso and face.

“... Alexi?” the Overlord’s breath was caught in her throat.

The gaunt version of the Theurgist wavered before her, then lunged forward, stretching its jaws out wide in an attempt to devour her. In response, the Overlord’s hand drew forth energy and fire, combining it into some quickened spell that was launched at the specter. As the swirling spell struck the ghost, it vanished into a puff of smoke, and the Overlord pressed on forward, pushing the door open and staggering into the blinding light.

Falling onto her hands and knees, the Overlord bent over for a few moments, a few tears stinging her eyes. Hands shaking, she collapsed, elbows keeping her from faceplanting the porch of the mansion. Crawling forward a few paces, she sat next to Sexist, who didn’t make a noise.

“Way... to... abandon me,” the Overlord murmured, falling back onto her back, breathing heavily.

“What did you see when you were in there?” Sexist asked quietly, looking at her. When the Overlord merely looked at him, he added, “I saw the way you were looking around. Like there was something there.” When she didn’t reply again, he nodded, “The Nemesis.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re easy to read.”

The Overlord forced herself to stand up, not bothering to help him up. “That’s what you think,” she spat, dusting herself off, then looking back out toward the iron gate surrounding the property. Catching a glimpse of the Soul-Keeper, the Advisor, and the Grasshopper standing just outside the gate by the sidewalk, she tilted her head to the side.

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone that you were scared,” Sexist added with a bemused expression on his face. The Overlord shot him a death glare, then began walking over to the others, angrily turning her back to the mansion.

---


Jester sat at the computer with a triumphant look on his face. A few of the DIB soldiers were sitting next to him, one with a bag of popcorn and the other slurping on a Dr. Pepper. As he played back the a video on the computer screen, he grinned, pointing at the two frightened figures.

“That’s that Insurgent that used to be with us, right?” one DIB soldier pointed at a frightened looking Sexist.

“And that’s the so-called Overlord,” Jester nodded, pointing at where she was clinging onto his arm. “Ha! This will make excellent blackmail...”

“So... What was the purpose of this?” the second DIB soldier inquired lightly, tossing a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“The Nemesis said to distract them so he could get something done. So... I distracted them,” Jester shrugged.

“And the things in the mansion?” the first DIB soldier asked.

“All fake,” Jester laughed, “But they don’t know that, do they?” The three began laughing raucously, Jester rewinding the video back to play the beginning, where the five were entering the “haunted mansion”.