[Capitaine]

  I tossed a bullet at the opposite wall. With the right angle and force, the bullet would clatter against the stone and ricochet back into my hand. I did it again and again and again; a captivating little party trick that I was able to meticulously develop over the past days and weeks.

  But how so very dull it was. No cellmate, no jailor interactions; just me and my beautiful mind creating beautiful thoughts about many things. My daydreams put me at the pinnacle of the world. Everything was a party; a soiree that those that came from Europe liked to speak of with drinks and dancing and as much food as you could imagine. I had the power to grant any wish and I would only give it to those that amused me the most.

  I smirked at the bowing heads of the great and powerful, forced to lower themselves and smash open their pride for a few scraps. It would all be in the palm of my hands.

  And I wanted that ability from the shapeshifter. I could look like whoever I pleased. Every day I could have a new face; a different display of beauty. I would infuse that into others and demand they look their best as well. The world would be better if everyone was beautiful.

  I sighed. Even staring at the greatest painting in the world would not satisfy the eyes forever. I was growing accustomed to my new abode

  “Is this really what you wanted?” I asked with a sigh. “For me to be imprisoned?”

  I felt my flesh crawl. Two lumps formed on my neck. They separated to create a void in my flesh; the mouth of my master.

  “Done giving me the silent treatment?”

  “I’ve grown bored,” I admitted, throwing the bullet again and having it land perfectly in my palm. “I was wondering if this has gone to plan.”

  “But of course,” the voice cooed in my ear. “And what charming little dance you did to appear as a harmless little weasel. I saw the look in Charles’ eyes through your own. There wasn’t a single moment of hesitation; you were written off as a liability in seconds.”

  “I don’t understand why me being in a cell helps you at all,” I grumbled. “I could have done much more as a member of his organization.”

  “Are you playing dumb because you’re bored?”

  “Maybe.”

  “A demon like Charles is far too paranoid to let you accomplish anything without his knowledge. Being caught betraying him would get you in a death loop. Being a moron allowed you to be here. I was able to see so many interesting sights; so many interesting experiments. Thanks to you, I have a mana signature for where the connection to his pocket dimensions are the strongest. Now, I can jam a blade in his plans if he ever wants to get uncooperative.”

  “I think I’d rather have the death loop than whatever Ishmael would have planned when he hears about what I did.”

  “That’s up to you to figure out,” the mouth said before closing up again.

  Nothing I can do about it now. All I can do it belief in the vision of the future that the Eight-mouthed Liar has planned. It could all be honeyed words, surely. I know that I’ve given my fair portion of deceit to the world, but, at the same time, my master has been the easiest person to understand.

  Just then, I heard the mechanisms in the cell door unlocking. My ears perked up in attention as the demon made of shadow stood on the other side.

  “Come,” he ordered.

  “Gladly,” I quipped, but the boor seemed completely disinterested in any humor. It was a continuation of the pallid world of which I resided.

  Either way, it was nice to stretch my legs. We marched up the stairs and out of the darkness of the pocket dimension to reach the light. It wasn’t the same chamber that I met Charles in, but it had the same furniture.

  “And there they are,” Charles announced, gesturing towards the two of us.

  My eyes flicked over to see the goat demon standing next to a massive black lizard. Ishmael. He looked at me with the same gaze that one might offer an ant. Bizarre as it was to say, this was amongst the kindest looks that he had ever given me.

  “I’ll leave the two of you to it,” Charles said, excusing himself from the room. As he did, all of the personal touches melted away; a sign that he didn’t want any of them damaged, I imagined.

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  Finally, I was given the challenge that I wanted to miss; avoiding the jaws of certain death. Oddly enough, there was something…sad about his demeanor; as if he had let something crucially valuable go.

  “Friend, it’s good to see you,” I opened with a smile. “Have you been well?”

  “Is it true that you went to Charles in order to betray me?”

  “Never one for small talk,” I said with a chuckle. “I was simply testing the loyalty of your new second in command. I found it bizarre that I heard word of your arrival only to find that neither Vendetta nor Yoshitsune were here. Instead, I find a goat man that sits in your throne room like he’s king. How was I not supposed to be worried?”

  Yoshitsune’s name elicited a burst of fire from Ishmael’s body. The room lit up and immediately fizzled out again. His eyes actually looked at me for the first time since I’d gotten here.

  “I wonder, if I cut out that golden tongue of yours, how much could I sell it for?”

  “Billions of XP, I’d hope.”

  The body language was strange. The threats sounded tired. There was no feeling inside of this interaction.

  “Don’t worry, Vendetta is here now.”

  As soon as Ishmael spoke the words, a puff of smoke appeared in the room. Vendetta arrived with the corpse of Armaros. He was covered in wounds and his clothing had been burned off of his body.

  “Ah, Vendetta, you tracked down your great adversary once again,” I commented as I gave the demented fire beast a genial wave.

  She grunted back at me, the brute. This was why I was hoping for Yoshitsune; she was the only one that knew how to have a half-decent conversation. Too bad I saw her falling in with the godly crowd. Now there’s no life here.

  “Get rid of him,” Vendetta requested.

  My fur bristled in momentary worry until Ishmael summoned a massive mouth that swallowed Armaros whole. Only a few blood splatteres remained of the man. I swallowed dry, acutely aware of the fact that such a thing could be my conclusion as well.

  As the body disappeared, Vendetta bowed at Ishmael’s feet. I was startled by how devoted such a proud woman looked to him. I supposed that acting as a jailor to her greatest enemy tore down those structural walls that made her who she was. What dim embers that emitted from her skull now that her fury was swallowed.

  “I am now yours to command,” Vendetta said. “Your enemies are my enemies, your hate is my hate, so long as Armaros resides within your hidden tomb.”

  “No need for such ceremony,” Ishmael said with a bored expression. “You know where you need to be now. So go.”

  With a puff of smoke, she was gone again.

  “So, you were worried about me?” Ishmael asked with a raise in his brow.

  “Would you believe me if I said it was so?” I asked in response. “Do you think that I would be so stupid as to walk in the front door and immediately throw my loyalty behind a stranger? When have I ever done things so blatantly?”

  “And what of the Eight-mouthed Liar?”

  “Interested in chaos and nothing else,” I assured. “They were interested in witnessing the experiments that Charles houses behind closed doors. They are too similar and therefore my master was far more wary about him.”

  “Yet they likely make their own play for the throne,” Ishmael reasoned correctly. “If Charles managed to be foolish enough to take your offer, you were still going to make a play after me. If, for nothing else, than to slow me down to give the Eight-mouthed Liar time to perform whatever they needed to in order to win. Am I correct?”

  I offered an exaggerated bow in response. There is no purpose to lying at this point. It’d only look sad if I stammered my way through an ill-conceived lie. When the truth is hit dead on, it’s hard to use it as misdirection.

  "It wouldn’t have been personal, I assure you,” I answered. “I would have loved to join your organization directly, but I had not heard a single word from you in years. I wasn’t going to sit around while all the interesting things happened above. I have to ask, what was the cause of your great delays?”

  “I was hunting for an epiphany,” Ishmael answered absent-mindedly. His claws unfurled from his fingertips. “My fighting has evolved multiple times since we last spoke. You wouldn’t recognize me anymore.”

  “What do you plan on doing with that epiphany?”

  “The same thing that I always planned on doing,” he replied, clenching his fist. “I’m going to kill every demon worth fighting and then take the top for myself. If I die on the way up, I die on the way up and I can be satisfied in knowing what my current ceiling is.”

  “What will you do if you reach the top?”

  “Are you asking, or is your master asking?”

  “Both,” the mouth on my neck opened to answer in my stead. For some reason, this seemed to amuse Ishmael.

  “Good,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve been searching for that answer the entire time. I wanted to create a world of endless fights, more than what we have now. It needed to have spectacle. Demons of near identical strength need to fight each other for dominance; a never ending tournament with me at the top.”

  “That sounds very much like you,” I commented.

  “Flattery is wasted. I have learned that very few share my love of bloodshed. Violence is but a tool to reach other ends. For me, it is my ends. My kindred spirits are few and far between. Even those can be warped beyond recognition. Ultimately, it’s driven a wedge between me and Yoshitsune.”

  My eyes widened slightly at Ishmael’s willingness to show that vulnerability in the presence of the Eight-mouthed Liar.

  “I want to end this pitiable place,” Ishmael continued. “If what I want won’t bring me satisfaction, there is no purpose in continuing this foolishness for any longer.”

  “Why not just wish the end of existence for only yourself?” The Eight-mouthed Liar spoke through my neck.

  “Consider it a favor to all of those that would rather be freed. I can still be persuaded. Yoshitsune wishes to suggest her ideal future together with me. I also promised the Follies quite some time ago that I’d hear out their request. If either can suggest something interesting enough, I could be convinced to go with that. For now, it means little. I won’t know what my soul craves until I taste the top. I want to focus on my next move first; killing the Aspect of Wrath.”

  “Why are you telling me all of this?”

  “Because,” he said, he red eyes boring into my soul. “There’s not a damn fucking thing you can do about it now.”