[MS] "The Burning Legion" Travels (Day 1-)

[Karl Jak]

A scowling yet wild-eyed Azula marched toward parts unknown, with those behind her working to keep pace with the fiery adolescent.

"The Burning Legion" consists of General @Azula, her Lieutenants, Soldiers, and probably troops, given the nature of this contest.

 

[Azula]

Almost since birth, people of all kinds and stations -- high-born, pathetic commoners, friends, enemies -- had told Princess Azula she’d go on to do great things. Everyone meant it in a different way, naturally. Some supposed her destiny would be to make her family proud the way women in the Fire Nation often did. Others, of course, wrote her off as a monster, assuming her hint of sadism would carry her to dark, bloody pastures. Still more saw her clear prowess as a leader and as a person of power… an heir apparent, especially as her brother sank further and further into his role as the family disappointment.

Whatever destiny she’d been put on that earth or in this realm to accomplish, greatness would undoubtedly greet her. This… was not it.

An underling? she seethed, leaning against a wall near to a prettyboy in golden armor. She scoffed under her breath as this ‘Roy Mustang’ laid out his plan, intricate details abounding and moralistic platitudes about the monsters in the north souring any tactical acumen he may have been displaying. In another corner, she saw him, the winner of last year’s competition who’d gone much-maligned in her thoughts, bouncing his foot absentmindedly — and still sporting that godforsaken cowboy hat. Every ounce of self-control she had, she poured into not matching over there and burning him alive right this very moment.

Pretenders, she thought. Every last one of them.

After what seemed like years already, the chief pretender finally wrapped up his dribble. The plans had been made, the paths had been set, and so his fancy moving desk folded itself back into place and he slid out from behind it to dismiss them all. For awhile, Azula simply stared at him through eyes so narrowed they almost disappeared. He made pleasantries with the others as everyone started to slowly make their way to their jobs.

“Something on your mind?” the blonde-haired, golden-armored man near her whispered. Azula’s eyes darted to her left to see that he’d taken a step forward and now gazed at her with what she could only describe as… suspicion.

“Nothing that concerns you, mongrel,” she spat, pushing herself up from the wall and turning away. The blonde sputtered as she walked away, but any words he’d had planned were halted by the appearance of their fearless leader himself in Azula’s path. The fire princess froze as she met eyes with Roy Mustang, and didn’t move; saluting, in particular, was far from her mind.

“General Azula,” he nodded.

“…Commander Mustang,” she scowled through gritted teeth.

Roy looked as though he was about to say something, but the princess had already whipped past. She’d heard enough from him during his speech. She didn’t need to be disrespected again by regurgitating her assignment with him.

She shuddered at the thought as she absconded from the room, trying her best not to speak to anyone else. As she made her way through Caer Thannith’s labyrinth of gorgeous hallways, a few lesser competitors tried to jockey for her attention — whether because they wanted to get in good with the general or because the idea of a sour young woman as a general offended them, most likely.

As she passed through the corridors and twisted into the armory, she could’ve laughed as many a supplier thought to hand her a weapon — a flamethrower, which seemed to have become the customary implement amongst her wouldbe comrades. Normally she wouldn’t have missed a beat to mock the fools, to show them a display of her abilities, but feeling as she did — livid — she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Azula let them all pass without sparing too many thoughts on them, because wheels were already spinning about how she could still prove her worth, how she could show them all… who really deserved their fucking respect.

Next to this Mustang, she would be a dragon.

***

Fire cannot kill a dragon, she reminded herself as she trudged at the head of her unit through the hot sun.

Morning had barely broken on the island when Azula and her not-underwhelming charge had set out from Caer Thannith. By now, however, the sun lingered above their heads, bending toward the west, casting its much too bright, indescribably hot glow on the entire cabal of soldiers. The fire princess wasn’t one to falter under a sweltering afternoon’s heat — being a firebender, that much was in her nature — but she remained, regrettably, human, so the humidity of this beach still made her sweat bullets. Behind her, a formidable band of servants marched along with her every step, but the occasional glance back showed they already tired from the nigh-unbearable heat.

She scoffed. She’d submitted the name ‘the Burning Legion’ to Mustang more as a commentary on their shared penchant for pyrokinetics, her best effort at finding common ground between them. At this rate, though, she’d have an actual burning legion on her hands if something didn’t change, and soon.

A few Lieutenants nipped at her heels. They seemed more qualified than the rest — seemed to be holding their own better, anyway — but she’d always assumed the higher-ranking officers would be made of sterner stuff. In some cases, they literally were; some were made of fucking metal.

The characteristic thump-thump of some weakling breaking under pressure reached her ears, and immediately, any idle chatter that persisted in the ranks near the general silenced. Her gaze drifted over her shoulder, and she saw a group of soldiers huddled together closer than their formation called for. If their ineptitude at keeping form hadn’t already alerted her to something amiss, the glances downward would have. Behind them, large swaths of soldiers dutifully marching slowed to a stop.

She turned fully around, clasping her hands behind her back and making an approach. The soldiers huddled closer together.

Hmph, she thought, disappointing. Disappointing that so soon in her tenure as general, so many dared to be insubordinate. She was certain she must’ve cut an intimidating figure — she’d been fashioned in a blue officers’ outfit not altogether unlike the one the commander swaggered around in, and had managed to tame her hair, finally grown back evenly after her disastrous cut, into a tight bun once again. She might’ve been shorter than many a soldier marching behind her, but not one of the men, women, or between folk there doubted how tall she stood. Even those who thought little more of her than a sniveling child would admit she carried herself with the confidence of ten hulking men.

That confidence was won and earned in moments like this one. She stared down the group of almost cowering soldiers, trademark scowl gracing her face. The simple lift of an eyebrow was enough to part them, and when they did acquiesce to her wishes, she saw a soldier in the worst position she could imagine — already on his knees.

She stalked through the path the parted soldiers had lain, and stood above the young man. He withered beneath the combined force of his general and the sun’s beatdown, probably no more than nineteen years old. This, of course, meant nothing to the girl before him two years his junior — simply put, if she could handle it out here, there was no reason for someone like him to be this pathetic.

Slowly, his trembling green eyes, swelling with either sweat or tears or both, lifted to look at Azula. “G-general,” he sputtered, forcing himself to his feet as his legs almost buckled again, “I—“

A finger pressed against his lips, and he shut up.

“That’s better,” Azula smirked. She removed her finger, wiping his dribble off on the side of her coat. Her eyes fell to his own uniform, and the name emblazoned on his dog tags. She reached out and grasped them, lifting them up for a closer look, twisting them this way and that just a tad too forcefully in an attempt to avoid the sun’s glare.

“Hmm,” she mused, “Gemrick, is it?”

“Y-yes, ma’am,” he sheepishly replied.

“Private Gemrick,” she nodded.

“Corporal, ma’am,” the young boy gulped. Azula caught the lump in his throat with her fingers, wrapping them around his neck and squeezing… gently.

“Private Gemrick,” she repeated, and he nodded in her grip. Tentatively, she released him, and spun on her heel, taking some steps away. A few meters removed, she turned over her shoulder again to get another look at him. “You’re too hot, I assume?”

He gulped again. “It… it is very hot, your generalship,” he swallowed his pride.

Azula chuckled. She lifted a hand — the same hand that, seconds ago, had been just a little force shy of choking him — and made a fist. Sapphire flames wreathed around it, dancing and bouncing around her knuckles with some speed. She let her eyes fall, once again, on the newly demoted Private Gemrick.

“Blue fire is the hottest fire on the planet,” she said, looking from Gemrick to the sun. She stared directly into it, barely squinting. “By the time her rays reach us, they are nothing.”

Soldiers around her began to squirm. Her gaze drifted over them, and she noted the push and pull of their moods. Intimidation was a tool at her disposal, yes, but… a leader simply was what they were. They thrived on respect, whether they respect came from fear or something else. For her part, Azula liked the fear. It fed her, in a way. It was what separated her already, she knew, from Commander Mustang, and what drew her to the thrall of so-called monsters amassing to the north. Deep down, those instincts emblazoned her with the same seal: the one they carried, the one her mother had bestowed on her when she was a mere child.

Monster.

And yet… being monstrous wasn’t necessarily always useful.

“Lieutenant… you,” she spat, reaching out and snapping her fingers at the ridiculously branded, spandex-clad robot who’d been at her left shoulder as they marched along the beach. Pepsiman bounded to attention, breaking through the trembling soldiers and rushing to her side.

“Yes, loyal customer?” the bot whirred. “Are you in need of refreshment?” As if from nowhere, the cyborg conjured a glass bottle full of this ‘Pepsi’ nonsense. Azula swatted at it, and stepped back.

“Not me, you imbecile,” she shuddered. “Take your swill away from me. It’s him.” She pointed to Private Gemrick, whose knees were fully knocking. “Make sure the private feels fully refreshed, will you?” She watched, in horror, as Gemrick’s face lit up. The sight disgusted her, so she turned away from it immediately and marched back toward her forward position, glancing up at the sun in the sky once again.

It sank deeper and deeper into the west with every passing moment.

“You,” she reached out and yanked a soldier out of formation, dragging them close. “Spread the word. We’re setting up camp on that cliff-face just ahead.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the girl replied.

“And tell everyone to use this rest to steel themselves,” she nearly threatened. “We won’t end our day so early again.” She turned away from everyone. Let them try and underestimate me, she thought.

It will be their doom.

 

[Sigmund Vrell]

Stheno had taken her appropriate place in Commander Mustang’s briefing, attentive but not incredibly enthused. The mercenary was sure that he would make a good leader, and that their strategy would play out well if they followed his plans, but her itch for a fight was driving her mad. It had been far too long since her last battle and Ladon was practically calling her name. Regardless, she was a professional, and she made sure to take a mental note of every word that came from Roy’s mouth. Soon enough, the assembled contestants were dismissed from the meeting and ushered through the halls of Caer Thannith.

In all honesty, her attention had started to wane as soon as she didn’t need to retain any information that was going to keep her alive, but she quickly perked up when she realised where the soldiers were heading: the armoury. All of a sudden, the gorgon felt like a kid in a toy store as she glanced around, wondering what she should use in her ‘performance’ on the island. Her considerations didn’t last long as a flamethrower was offered to and quickly accepted by the mercenary, a wide grin crossing her face.

“Well, well. Looks like Ladon has a new friend.” Stheno thought to herself as she admired her new weapon. A large, unwieldy monstrosity made of brass, with various pipes, gears, and valves running along its length, it would look more like a bizarre contraption than a weapon if it weren’t for the barrel and trigger identifying it as something you didn’t want to stand in front of. It was perfect.

After receiving her weapon, Stheno received a bullet-proof vest as well as a new outfit in the form of the blue military uniform sported by her new commander. The jacket was agreeable enough, but the miniskirt she was initially provided with brought a raised eyebrow and a chuckle from the mercenary. After deciding that she wasn’t about to enter a war zone with her legs bare and demanding a pair of pants, the gorgon was ready and eager to get to work.


~~~


As soon as she had realised that they wouldn’t be expecting any combat for the first few days, Stheno’s excitement had rapidly evaporated. Soon enough, she found herself marching along under the command of her slave driver of a general. Sure, for the mutant, the march was barely any harsher than a moderate hike, but the average soldier wasn’t fortunate enough to have ECHIDNA’s training or bio-arcane modifications. While this was a fact she was well-aware of already, it became more evident to the mercenary with each passing moment as the soldiers around her faltered and stumbled, barely keeping pace with the army.

“Typical. At least they’re doing better than Gemrick...” She murmured to herself, wondering how a rather competent mercenary such as herself managed to end up with Caboose and Zenitsu in the dojo, only to find herself placed with the weak links of the army once she got onto the field. Still, the warrior couldn’t help the feeling of pity that was descending into her gut, and when a particularly scrawny-looking youth stumbled in front of her, she sighed and helped her to her feet. “Come on, kid. Gimme your stuff.”

The young woman glanced up at Stheno with a horrified look. Though they hadn’t been close enough to see their general terrorise the faltering Gemrick, word had spread quickly, and the young soldier was obviously expecting to be the next on the chopping block. After a moment of cowering, however, she realised that the gorgon wasn’t threatening her. Instead, the warrior held her hand out expectantly, a look of slight confusion crossing her blindfolded visage.

“O-Oh… thank you but I will have to turn down your generous offer.” The youth said, her back straightening as much as it could in her fatigued state as she attempted to put on a brave face. “This is nothing, I-“

“Yeah, yeah, okay, okay.” The mutant sighed, smiling a little in spite of herself. Judging from her accent, she guessed that the girl was Erde Nonan, and probably of respectable standing from the way she spoke. Maybe some sort of knight in training? “I’m just trying to make sure you don’t end up like Gemrick up there, but if you’d like to get chewed out by the General…”

The soldier had a moment of contemplation as her pride struggled against her fear of Azula. Before long, however, self-preservation ultimately prevailed and she handed Stheno her pack with a little mumble.

“Thank you.” She sighed, finding her voice as she fell into step beside the gorgon, finding it much easier to keep up without the heavy load weighing her down. “If there’s anything I can do to repay you, just say the word.”

“Pfef, don’t mention it.” The mercenary said, waving off the soldier’s offer before pausing. A moment of thought passed before Stheno flashed the shorter woman a grin. “Actually… if you get the chance, get me a drink from lieutenant Pepsiman, would you? Then we’ll call it even.”

 

[Jak]

As Connor and the T-800 leaned against the wall waiting for Commander Roy to speak his words, John observed from the side taking notes of what and who they would have to face in the incoming war. Every so often the hardened soldier would observe Roy. It felt weird being in a position where he would have to take orders, but he was used to it. When he was training, he worked with some of the best soldiers out there his mother or him could think of.

Even though Connor had been leader of his own specialized squad of soldiers working under him named Tech-Com, he went to meet the soldiers that would be eventually fighting with him.

Fate and Hope// sound to go with post
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NLlu8OCUWQs&list=RDMM&index=6
(Have some scene music)

This crowd was somewhat quiet, soldiers talking to each other.

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The T-800 turned and reminded him it was time to leave by the woman named General Azula.

The fire clip on the General’s hair must have warned Connor of the General’s “fiery” nature as he frowned, waiting for the T-800 to follow suit in line. His terminator was following suit in line as orders were quickly yelled out to move forward outside the castle.

He gave a weary stare to the other Lieutenant of the group, Pepsiman. What was he exactly? He forced himself to turn and march, carrying a heavy load of items.

It was like Azula’s yelling reminded him a bit too much of Ashdown and most of the other Resistance Generals back home who decided they were better than everyone.

For a moment, he swore he heard the old american general’s voice in Azula’s for a second.

“GET YOUR ASS MOVING.”

The Tech-Com Commander found himself moving forward, staying in step with the other soldiers. The weather outside felt like it was sweltering and they had stopped due to a soldier in their group who was younger.

Emotions were already running high as the unlucky 19 year old private both lost his pride and his rank all in one status.

The General looked over at Pepsiman and everyone stopped for a drink of cold pepsi on the strange “cyborg”. The T-800 rejected the offer as Terminators don’t need liquids.

John simply took some and took a long slug of Pepsi. The weather on this beach and the weather back home were two different things. Nuclear Winter had taken over much of the earth after Judgement Day and it was cold back home. Connor was starting to regret wearing his fur lined flight jacket.

 

[Gildarts]

A swirl of everything and nothing all at the same time.

This is the meaning of life, for it contains balance. This is matter, both empty and full. This is energy, composing all the minuscule pieces that make up the grand and uncharted universe. Yin and Yang.

The cat rolled with time as it flowed and ebbed, his gentle focus flowing with breath that filled and released within him. The commotion, the sounds, the chaos always fell away. Time was merely a motion enchanted by the perception given to it.

The parade of events continued. With them, Ki hung at the very back of the conversation with his head tilted in observation, ears perked and directed to those who were talking. He’d received his particular set of orders and found himself surrounded by so many humans. The once forest-dweller found himself immediately faced with this unwelcome surprise.

Where were all the different creatures of the world? The monks he’d grown so fond of? The creatures that held so much knowledge and wisdom with the tradition of simply being?

Ki’s tail darted back and forth with residual agitation. He had spent very little time with humans yet each time, he found they had little respect for the life around them. Like all things, he would not let this alone define his perception of them. Instead, he would take the time to learn what was in their hearts. Are humans capable of the compassion that nature innately had? Nature, when anything died, used every piece of degradable material for beautiful new creation. Humans built cities of rusted steel that were never meant to fall. Never meant to live within the cycle of growth and rebirth.

Ki resolved to himself that he would find the meaning of humanity. He would learn the lesson offered to him with this opportunity and his introduction to mankind would soon begin.

During his travels, Ki found that footsteps were stomping down all around him and one in particular came too close to stepping on his tail. His gray pelt was an unassuming color and so too, was his reduced size compared to that of men. He remained out of the eyeline of everyone who walked around him and took the precaution of moving, instead walking on the very outskirts of the group rather than be mistakenly trampled.

It was there where he found himself closest to the fauna popping up around him. The sounds of the forest listened, present, yet hiding behind their alluring lull of life. Immeasurable sounds, all so full that they fell into the background of conversation.

A scent that particularly tickled his nose was that of one belonging to a car, yet it walked and appeared like a human. Ki sniffed again, expecting to detect sweat. Instead, the scent carried that of oil and gunpowder.

The cat blinked quizzically and his whiskers twitched. He directed his voice at the odd smelling man next to the one in the military uniform, “Excuse me, what is your name?”

 

[Jak]

The T-800’s mission was simple and complicated at the same time. It was supposed to kill John Connor one day, but it’s mission was reprogrammed to now protect the one target it was assigned to kill by Skynet itself.

Uncle Bob looked over at the creature now walking toward him, in curiosity.

The terminator had seen humans for most of its waking life, John and his family but here he was engaging a creature that is not humanlike in nature and looks like a feline.

Uncle Bob faked a smile, and kept his sunglasses on, mostly blinking “My name? I am a Terminator model T-800 or Uncle Bob, a strange creature. I am a learning computer.”

John was busy watching the men and women on the side, waiting for any more orders to march. He appreciated Pepsiman’s offer to bring fresh drinks to everyone for a while as he took another slug of Pepsi.

He had to admit the uniform given to him was different for the time but he’d get used to it.

John crossed his arms, thinking about the most recent task given to him and figured out the details in his mind. Connor was thinking of what needed to go into the whole project.

Connor took a small rest, observing the cat-like feline approaching the T-800.

“Huh? Who’s this, Uncle Bob?” The military man plainly stated

The T-800 still staring at KI replied “Not sure, John, finding out now.”

Connor was already staring out a pair of binoculars watching for anything.

 

[Azula]

As Azula watched her soldiers raise the four posters that would support her general’s tent, disinterest began to set in.

She yawned. Too much time had passed since she’d been forced to feign like the motions of peons carried any value to her; she’d grown lax in the interim. And could you blame her? The soldiers that Commander Mustang had assigned to her unit had thus far proven decidedly ill-prepared for her expectations. Part of her wondered if any of the thousands of people now split between her units and the others had any clue what they were signing up for when they entered this ‘game’ — truth be told, the change in format from the past year had even caught Azula herself off-guard.

She was nothing if not adaptable, however. She counted herself lucky that even at such a young age, she’d learned the fine art of… molding an unfortunate situation into something more on her terms. That, she supposed as the walls of her tent finally started to rise, was something she was going to have to do to whip these insects into shape.

Fortunately for them, Commander Mustang’s plan was simple enough. Too simple for her tastes and her expertise. She’d led hundreds of thousands of soldiers through her homeland, cutting paths through villages and cities not unlike the ones she’d seen beyond the rolling hills earlier today. She’d orchestrated the sacking of Ba Sing Se with just herself, Mai, and Ty Lee to execute the operation. She knew she was worthy of this command, and it seemed Mustang saw that in her, as well — but had he yet opened his eyes to the even greater potential underneath?

As boredom drew her gaze from the several soldiers setting up her tent to the others flurrying about behind her, she wondered if any of these fools had. She barely even noticed her gently grinding teeth as frustration welled up inside her bones. Did any of these people have any idea what a capable general they’d been granted? Did they know that they had fallen into greatness purely by accident?

After all, it was clear enough to her — she should be the commander of the Armada, not Mustang. She pressed a hand to the blue miniskirt that peeked out beneath her coat, smoothing it over the thick gray tights she’d insisted on wearing beneath it. That man was a fool, and she would see him know it before all this was through.

Unfortunately, more pressing matters called for her attention first. Like making sure these soldiers wouldn’t be devoured alive if — and when — they stumbled upon the Hell Divers to the west, or the actual hell spawn to the north.

She scowled. She knew they were capable of surviving. If they weren’t now, she’d make them so. Some looked more formidable than others, she mused, eyeing a particularly fit-looking woman crossing the beach just a few meters ahead of her.

“Do you fight blindfolded?”

Stheno stopped in her tracks. The fire princess’ scowl twisted into a sneer as the gorgon slowly turned to face her.

“Are you speaking to me, General?” the woman asked, straightening her back ever-so-slightly.

“Do you see anyone else in this unit wearing a blindfold?” Azula snarked, a hand on her hip.

Stheno’s expression was unreadable. Probably because of the blindfold.

A cursory glance past the gorgon, who remained silent for a few moments, revealed many other interesting troops scattered throughout the ranks of the Burning Legion. Tools, puppets for her use, all of them — but some more useful than others, she decided. The robot basically following her Lieutenant Connor around caught her eye; the strange-looking cat warrior speaking to them both, too. They were some distance away, so Azula couldn’t quite tell, but as her eyes passed over them, she thought the trio might’ve stolen a glance at her.

Were they gossiping about her? Whispering about whatever insecurities they wrongly perceived she had or undoubted underestimation they’d made of her?

If she’d heard any of their nonsense gossip, of course, she might’ve burned them alive immediately. Already she’d begun to feel the eyes of everyone in this whole fucking conglomeration of maggots, watching her, both to be given their next charge and to judge her on their withering expectations. Presumptuous insects, the lot of them. She owed them nothing, because they were nothing.

“Ma’am,” the mercenary called, too loudly for Azula’s tastes, “I said yes. I do fight with my blindfold on.”

Azula let her attention fall back to this soldier. She blinked a few times in quick succession, bringing herself out of the thoughts she’d gotten lost in, and placed her other hand on her other hip, swaggering toward Stheno. The gorgon didn’t budge as the fire princess closed in, and for the first time since setting out from Caer Thannith, Azula felt satisfied.

“Hm,” she remarked with a smirk, “bold.”

This would be a fine start.

 

[Sigmund Vrell]

As the Burning Legion was marching, Stheno had managed to unwittingly earn herself some respect among the weaker soldiers in their unit. Before long, the first soldier that the mercenary had helped recovered enough stamina to take her equipment back, only for another desperate comrade to catch her blindfolded eye. With a little insistence, the scrawny man that she had turned her attention to yielded, passing his burden over to her. It didn’t take long for him to recover, at which point Stheno returned his pack and shouldered that of another exhausted ally.

By the time the army arrived at their destination, the gorgon had aided at least a dozen struggling soldiers without breaking too much of a sweat herself. She spotted the various people she had assisted throughout the crowd as they milled about, getting to work as their general directed. As she finished off her Pepsi, however, Stheno was surprised to be called upon by the General herself. Though she was doing her best to act professional before her new boss, the warrior struggled to suppress a grin as Azula inquired about her blindfold. Surprisingly, she was the first one to ask about it since the mercenary had entered the contest.

“Bold?” She repeated, uttering a single short, harsh laugh before giving Azula a particularly sharp-toothed grin. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“What is your name, soldier?” The General asked, an unusual expression on her face as she crossed her arms. The warrior was vaguely reminded of the sensations she had felt while under careful observation after she had first received her modifications.

“My name is Stheno, ma’am.” The warrior replied, suddenly remembering that the princess was her superior.

“Well, Stheno, you are certainly an intriguing one.” Her superior said, chuckling lightly to herself. “You look to be a cut above the average insect that our… Commander has provided me with. I may have some use for you.”

The gorgon considered herself to be a particularly menacing individual, but even she felt a little chill run down her spine in the presence of her General. Even her laugh was vaguely evil-sounding. Fantastic! The beast of a mercenary had resigned herself to a boring service under the straight-laced Roy, but now Azula was promising a much more entertaining campaign in her army.

“May I ask what use that may be, ma’am?” The soldier inquired, doing her best to suppress an excited grin.

“You can serve me directly. A bodyguard position seems like it would fit you nicely.” The princess mused. Stheno couldn’t help but notice that she was being given a role, not offered one, and she had a feeling that refusal wouldn’t end well. This girl was a riot!

“It would be my honour, General.” The gorgon replied, allowing herself to reveal the wicked grin that had been attempting to reveal itself for the last minute or so, flashing Azula a set of vaguely snake-like teeth. “Anyone tries to kill you and I’ll slaughter ‘em! Hell, even if they don’t, give the word and I’ll still do it.”

“Hmm, excellent.” The firebender said, laughing menacingly once again. Once her laughter died down, however, Stheno found herself meeting her boss’ gaze. After a moment of confusion, she realised what she was looking at.

“You’re wondering about the blindfold, right?” The mercenary asked, though she already knew the answer.

“That’s ‘are you wondering about the blindfold, General?’... but yes. Now matter how confident you are, a professional doesn’t just walk into a battlefield blindfolded. Or maybe I’ve underestimated just how confident you are.” The princess replied. Stheno considered her answer for a moment, wondering how to best word her response.

“Well… consider my eyes a weapon too.” The mutant said after some consideration. “One that I can’t turn off, and that I really don’t want being aimed at my allies. If I get into a situation where I need to use it, though, trust me. It will not disappoint.”

 

[Karl Jak]

The Legion has made camp in and around Asbec.

 

[Azula]

Azula and the Legion have left Asbec.

“What do you mean no one’s returned?” Azula sat behind her desk within her general’s tent. She glared at the corporal before her, her gaze lingering on the bandage over his nose. The squad of scouts had been darting around ahead of them, but most had finally rejoined the group as they set up camp a little way outside of Asbec. The general’s orders the previous day had been to send a few behind enemy lines, into the den of monsters, to siphon some info to them about the threat that fascinated the fire princess so greatly.

They should’ve been back by now.

“I instructed them to be back by sunup to report their findings to your Generalship,” the corporal explained, trembling, “but no one came back. At this rate, ma’am, I can only assume—”

Outside, soldiers leapt out of the way as a fireball burned a hole through the wall of Azula’s tent and smashed into a nearby rock face. Through the new, lightly singed window, anyone who peeked in could see that the their general was standing now, one fist extended before her, other hand slammed so hard into the top of her table-desk that cracks had begun to form.

The corporal glanced over his shoulder. Shockingly enough, the fireball seemed not to have been meant for him — it’d passed clean by him by several feet. Azula continued to stare blankly ahead, teeth grit, fist extended, breathing heavily.

Then came the shudder. The very earth beneath them began to rumble, and the various implements Azula used to mark her maps and important documents spilled over onto the table. The fire princess remained still as the corporal lost his balance, stumbling to one side. The only body part on the teenager that moved was her eyes, rolling to look at the ground curiously.

With a deep inhale, she finally relaxed.

“Out of my sight.” The order was calm, and a little quiet — almost so much the corporal couldn’t hear.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” he asked, innocently.

“Do not make me repeat myself,” she growled.

Stheno stepped out of the shadowy corner of the tent behind her general. “The general said out of her sight, corporal.”

The corporal nodded, and went to leave, but the sound of Azula’s voice stopped him.

“Corporal,” she said, “well done.”

For a moment, the corporal wasn’t sure what to do next. As far as he knew, General Azula had yet to compliment… well, anyone in their unit, except maybe the mercenary standing just off her left shoulder. He nodded slowly, then more quickly, and decided, in the end, to just salute and dart out the door.

Azula slowly sank back into her seat, eyes falling onto the map splayed out across her desk. Electricity crackled up her fingers as she traced the outline of the Necropolis with a long, sharp fingernail. A single spark leapt up from her cuticle and fizzed against the spot, leaving only a black mark where the city had once been. Her deep scowl frozen in place, she sat back and reached for her glass of Mountain Dew Baja Blast, bringing it gently to her lips and sipping it. It slipped down her throat, gasoline to the emerald fires burning in her gut.

“Gotta say,” Stheno remarked, “never expected you to get this broken up about soldiers dying, ma’am.”

“I’m not,” Azula shrugged, nudging the glass of Blast over so that the tropical lime goodness spilled forth onto the Unmade army’s territory, soaking them in a sour, bubbly flood of teal. “I’m offended.”

To be honest, she was feeling… something about the likely untimely deaths of her scouts. They couldn’t be sure, of course — perhaps the monsters had simply run them scared into the wilderness, and they’d stagger home any day now, shattered and unprepared for the verbal lashing they’d undoubtedly received.

But Azula doubted it, and that was the problem. In the week or so they’d spent cutting north through mostly safe territory, she’d watched her soldiers begin to shift under her command. She couldn’t be sure if they were getting better — and from the way some of them looked at her, she was certain they hated her. But something resembling care had begun to form, in spite of the fire princess’s best instincts. She’d found herself mostly incapable of emoting in that way towards other humans or human-like beings after what she’d gone through — first her mother, then her brother, then her best fucking friends, then her own father.

Abandoned by everyone.

She wouldn’t abandon her soldiers to the claws of those hideous, misshapen fucks.

“Stheno,” she said a little too calmly, raising the empty Baja Blast glass into the air, “have Pepsiman fetch me more of this delicious concoction.”

Then, she smirked.

“You’ll soon find out who the real monster is, you fools.”

 

[Sigmund Vrell]

“Thanks, Lieutenant Pepsiman.” Stheno said, picking up the pair of Baja Blast bottles that the mascot had provided her with.

“Any time, valued customer!” The soda robot replied with an upbeat tone before the soldiers went their separate ways. As she made her way through the army and back to her general, the mercenary unconsciously began whistling as she casually walked through the encampment. Realising what she was doing, the gorgon wondered about the melody briefly before recognising it as a favourite of her youngest sister.

Stheno frowned a little, her march back to the general’s tent halting as she gazed off into the distance, specifically in the direction that their scouts had left. Where the warrior had seen them for the last time. Normally, she wouldn’t really be too disturbed by death on the battlefield. It happened in her line of work, it was normal. Even the unmaking, as horrific as it was, would typically just be enough to unsettle the bruiser, not shake her down to her core.

That said, the fact that the whole affair was being televised changed things. If she was going to be torn to shreds by nightmarish abominations or, god forbid, twisted and turned into one herself, the last thing that she would want is for her sisters to watch it happen. The thought alone was enough to turn even her battle-hardened stomach, but the gorgon quickly shook it off. Casting a glance back at Ladon, the warrior resolved that the unmade monstrosities could do their worst, but she would be dying on her own terms if the situation called for it. At the very least the younger gorgons would be able to stomach a warrior’s death better than the alternatives, even if that meant being skewered on her own blade.

Snapping back to attention and shaking off the grim thoughts, Stheno finished her walk back to Azula’s tent, entering a little more fanfare than she probably needed.

“Dun-da-dun! I’m back, ma’am.” The gorgon said, raising the Mountain Dew bottles above her head dramatically. She was careful to avoid shaking them too much, lest she cause any unwanted soda eruptions. The warrior glanced at the label for a second, briefly wondering what ‘Baja’ was. “And I’ve got your… Baja Blast.”

“Very good.” The General said, not looking up from her map. Like many things around Azula, it hadn’t lasted long before taking some damage. It was still stained by her menacing soda spill and the Necropolis was still charred off the map where she had burned it.

“Would you like me to procure a new map, ma’am?” The footsoldier ventured, though she had a feeling that she knew the answer already.

“No, no. This one will do fine.” The fire princess said, waving off her bodyguard’s offer. “When we’re done with those… things, they’ll be in much worse shape than this.”

Stheno couldn’t help but grin at that. Just because she wasn’t utterly torn up by the loss of their comrades didn’t mean that wasn’t ready to avenge them. Plus, the promise of a little carnage was always enough to cheer her up. “Haha, that’s what I like to hear!”

 

[Sigmund Vrell]

A small group of soldiers stalked around the fort, keeping an eye out for anyone acting even remotely suspicious. At the head of this patrol was the imposing figure of Stheno, Ladon unsheathed and dragging menacingly behind her. The rest of the soldiers followed a few paces behind her, watching the crooked trail that the twisted metal of her machete was carving into the dirt and listening to the unpleasant grate of steel against any stone it came across.

“So…” One of them ventured, tentatively addressing the gorgon. “You’re taking the attempt on the general pretty hard, huh?”

Hoisting her blade up and onto her shoulder, the warrior let out a frustrated sigh.

“Yeah… I guess you could say that.” She hissed, glancing around a corner before leading the patrol past it. “It’s just… hrmm... How do I put it?”

“Well… I think it’s natural.” The soldier said, evidently feeling adventurous enough to push the topic with his berserking comrade. “They did attack your general and… uh, friend, I guess?”

He sounded rather unsure of his assessment of their relationship, which wasn’t too surprising when most of the topics that Stheno and Azula had talked about seemed to be related to murder and violence in some way, shape, or form.

“It’s not just that.” The merc grunted, running a hand through her hair. “It would be bad enough if they had attacked just her normally… but the way they did it. The way they pretended to be injured soldiers… the way they went around me… they’re just… FUCKING!”

Whipping around, the berserker immediately searched for something breakable in the vicinity, her gaze falling upon a stray log that had presumably been left behind in the construction of the fort. Without hesitating, she let out a furious roar and threw a wild haymaker at the chunk of wood, shattering it in half with the force of her blow.

“COWARDS!” She finished, keeping her fist in place for a few moments as she simply stood and breathed, her whole body shaking with barely contained fury. The whole patrol stood silently for a few moments as their fellow legionnaire collected herself. As she cast a glance back at the group, the soldier closest to her could have sworn he saw a flash of green beneath the gorgon’s blindfold.

“Phew…” she sighed, taking a step back and relaxing her tensed muscles. “Sorry about that. They just… really pissed me off there.”

“That’s fair.” The closest soldier remarked, clearing his throat.

“It’s fine now though. Even if I have to patrol day and night, I’m not letting any more of those unmade freaks get another shot at Azula, or anyone else in the fort.” With a ferocious grin, Stheno impaled Ladon into the earth once more and continued her march through the Armada’s base, the awful sound of its already ruined edge scraping against the rough ground echoing into the night. “Their fight is with me! And they’ll give me the proper fight they owe me whether they like it or not!”

“She’s crazy.” One of the soldiers sighed as the procession continued, following the same respectable distance behind her.

“Eh… I think she’s a little saner than the general, at least.” Another replied.

“I’m just glad that I don’t have to fight her.” A third chuckled with a hint of nerves, and the other soldiers gave a quiet murmur of agreement.

 

[Azula]

“I thought this war would be more… exciting.”

Azula glanced over at Stheno, twiddling her thumbs at the entrance flap to the general’s tent. The fire princess leaned back in her chair, letting out a sigh.

“Your general getting stabbed in the shoulder wasn’t thrilling enough for you?” she replied, but in a tone that suggested that Stheno’s opinion was one the firebender shared.

Truly, Azula had grown a bit tired of the rote way their plans had been playing out. Even storming and capturing the unmade village had been… easy enough. She hadn’t spoken to Mustang in over a week, so she couldn’t be sure what he was up to, but she swore that if that man was getting all the excitement and leaving her up in the cold north to just… bide her time, well… she didn’t know what she’d do.

That wasn’t to say that their time had not been incredibly successful. Facts were facts: the Miniskirt Armada had breached the monsters’ lines, and now they had a foothold well into the unmade territory. A shaky foothold, perhaps, but it was something, and Azula had led that charge. She didn’t spend a lot of time eavesdropping on the idle prattle of her men, but she’d heard the whispers: some of the soldiers were proud to be members of the Burning Legion, now. Whether they enjoyed the personality of their leader had begun to be beside the point.

For their part, Azula and Stheno had begun to spend a lot of time together, debating the future of the fire princess’ unit. Would they continue to push forward? Or would they keep playing a defensive game?

“You’re right,” Azula scowled. “We’re meant for something more than playing gatekeeper.”

“At least we do it well, ma’am,” Stheno shrugged, and Azula couldn’t argue. As they’d marched away from Fort Briggs this morning — a necessary excursion to tame the surrounding countryside, and make sure immediate threats to their existence were stamped out — Azula had looked back on their creation with a mixture of pride and glee. It rivaled even the most advanced structures the Fire Nation had built back in her day, and even though she would always rather be burning people to a crisp, being good at something was still satisfactory.

“Do you ever feel, ma’am,” Stheno mused, “like there’s so much happening all around us, and we’re just outside of it? Like the action swirls just out of our reach.”

“Regularly, Stheno,” Azula nodded. “That was never how things were when I was leading my armies back home.”

Stheno perked up. “This isn’t your first time being a general?”

Azula smirked, and scoffed. “Far from it,” she chuckled. “I once sacked an entire city — the capital city of our nation’s greatest enemy — with only two soldiers behind me.”

Flashes of Mai and Ty Lee flew through her head, as well as their sacking of Ba Sing Se. The fools — they’d underestimated her and her friends, just like how everyone in this realm continued to. She’d proven them wrong thus far, sweeping through the countryside like a flame-wreathed dagger. Next… she’d slice their enemies limb from limb.

And then, our glory will raise me to new heights.

Time, though. It ticked away slowly, gradually, each grain of sand from the hourglass one step closer to her goals. It moved at its own pace, and came when it was needed, not when she asked.

She was an impatient girl — but she’d bide her time.

“What about you, Stheno?” she asked, kicking her feet up onto her desk, “Any war stories good enough to regale your general with?”

 

[Sigmund Vrell]

Stheno was quiet for a moment before a wide grin split her face.

“Any good war stories? Hah!” She cackled. “Hell, does a snake have fangs?”

A small smile crossed her general’s face at this. “Well, go on then. Show me what you’ve got.”

Thinking for a moment, the gorgon’s hand went to her back, taking a hold of Ladon’s handle before slowly drawing the machete from its sheath.

“Wanna hear the story of how I got this guy?” She asked, giving the cruel weapon a loving look. Even with her blindfold on, the endearing expression she wore was clear to see. Azula stayed silent but gave a nod to her bodyguard along with a hand gesture that signalled her to continue.

“My two sisters and I had a job over on Erde, a half-giant in the hinterlands who had earned himself quite the bounty. Started when he stole a real pricy horse from one of their knights and just got bigger when he killed all the bounty hunters who came after him.”

The mercenary broke into another wide grin at this point.

“‘Course, they’d never sent one of us. ECHIDNA’s mercenaries are made of sterner stuff… anyway, we get to his grungy cave that he was calling his home and find that he’s not inside. So, I take a look around deeper in while my sisters are outside checking for tracks and shit, next thing I know I’m flying across the room with half my ribs broken.”

Azula remained silent as she listened to Stheno’s story, but her slightly forward-hunched posture and intent expression revealed that she was very much paying attention.

“The wind gets knocked out of me and my rifle flies god-knows-where, but I’m on my feet straight away. First thing I see is this ugly bastard creeping out of the darkness and let me tell you, you wouldn’t guess he was only half giant. This dude was gigantic. Anyways, I don’t know where he got it but he’s swinging a steel girder like it’s a baseball bat and I can’t catch my breath to call out to my sisters.”

At this point in the story, the mercenary ran her fingers over her flank and let out a little wince at the memory.

“You’ll just have to take my word for it, but I’ve got so nasty scars from that girder… so, he’s coming in swinging, and even with the breath knocked outta me I’m not just gonna take that. So I get running and he’s on my ass, like a cat chasing after a mouse. I run under some shitty makeshift table he had set up and he knocks it over, sending all his stuff flying, including some weapons I think he was using as cutlery.”

Shifting her grip on Ladon so its blade lay in her lap, the warrior gazed fondly at the blade.

“Right next to me lands this guy here. I get one look at him and even though he looked pretty rough, the bastard obviously didn’t take good care of him, it was love at first sight. I scoop up Ladon and juke under the big guy’s next swing, going straight for his Achilles’ tendon. I stab him in and ooooooh.”

Stheno’s whole body shuddered as possibly the widest grin that Azula had seen on the mercenary yet split her face.

“The stab-in goes fine, but when I try to pull him free, he gets stuck. I yank harder and harder while the giant was screaming like a banshee and finally he comes out, shredding the whole tendon while blood’s going everywhere! After that, I pull my blindfold off and give him a good look in the eye. Big bastard whips around to look and me and bam! He sees me, goes down like a mountain of bricks and I stick Ladon in to finish him off.”

Her story finished, the gorgon laid back as she pulled the machete into an embrace, careful not to cut herself on the ragged edge. “Ahh… good times.”

“That certainly is a war story.” The general noted, amused by Stheno’s tale. “Though, I am curious, surely your sisters must have heard the commotion. Are they, perhaps… how should I put this? Disappointments?

The bruiser gave her boss a curious look, noting an oddly venomous tone to her voice at that comment, as well as a bitter expression on her face. Shrugging her confusion off, she sheathed Ladon once more as she shook her head.

“Nah, they’re both reliable, they just went a little too far to hear the brawl when we split up.” She explained. “My middle sister, Euryale, is a bit stuck-up, but she’s pretty competent, and I know that she won’t let me down when things get dicey.”

“And your other sister?”

“Ah, Medusa. The youngest.” Stheno murmured, an odd mixture of emotions in her voice, simultaneously adoring and concerned. “She’s strong as hell. They gave her proper stone sight instead of the budget paralysis sight me and Euryale got and she’s a pretty good shot too. But… the girl’s too damn sweet for her own good, especially in this business. She has trouble getting her war face on, y’know?”

A strange look crossed Azula’s face, and she looked as if she were about to say something, but before she could, the mercenary perked up, alarmed.

“Wait, shit, this is all broadcasted isn’t it?” She gasped. “Ah man… Euryale is gonna bite my head off for leaking information when I get back to HQ… shiiiiiit…”

 

[Azula]

Run.

The Necropolis was collapsing around her. Azula and what remained of her strike team sprinted past falling rubble and crumbling buildings as mortar fire from a nearby fortification destroyed everything in sight. The whole scene baffled Azula — these unmade monsters shattered the imagination. To be quite honest, even Azula found their tactics a bit… extreme.

Witnessing the destruction of the creatures’ capital city, however, was nevertheless thrilling. She’d been pushing for days now on the unmade from the East, and now watching them absolutely crack under the pressure shot glee into her bloodstream more than anything yet in this whole competition. Anything yet, that was… until her first encounter with the Hell Divers.

The fire princess trudged through the mud just outside the Necropolis and glanced back over her shoulder at the limp, ragged form of their prisoner. Abducting a decorated general of the opposing normal army hadn’t been on the original itinerary, but when it became clear that the unmade garrison in the city had mostly dissolved and that the Hell Divers were there in force, Azula just couldn’t resist the opportunity to arrange a little chat. He’d been tough to pin down, for certain — her own limp limb was evidence enough of that — but in the end, thanks to her well-trained group of soldiers, he’d fallen, and now rested firmly in their grip.

Azula glanced back at him again, observing his lithe frame with some interest. His hair was a striking shade of pure white, standing out amidst the dark, dank backdrop of the unmade countryside. He didn’t seem, to the firebender, like the obvious choice to be a general. But then, she supposed, neither did she; perhaps when he awoke, they’d be able to find some commonality in that.

Hours passed, though, and the chained man remained unconscious. He stayed out cold through essentially the whole journey, at last beginning to stir when they reached their unit’s encampment.

“Throw him somewhere safe and don’t leave him alone,” Azula barked at the assassin carrying him. “I want eyes on him at all times — he’s feisty.”

Stheno emerged from the crowd, Lieutenant Connor at her heels.

“Ma’am — you’re back. I didn’t know where you’d gone,” the bodyguard expressed, just a twinge of worry seeping off her features. “Your arm — you shouldn’t have gone without me, ma’am.”

Azula held up her good hand. “Nonsense,” she shook her head, “this operation required a personal touch, and we’ve been rewarded for our diligence.”

“Diligence?” Connor raised an eyebrow.

“Rewarded?” Stheno tagged on.

“Hmph,” Azula scoffed with a smirk. “We’ve captured one of the enemy’s generals.”

Azula wished more than ever she could’ve seen Stheno’s eyes at that moment, because she knew the expression on her face would’ve been priceless. The storied warrior’s tales from the previous night — and Azula’s own memories — had awakened something inside the fire princess. Stheno was the only soldier in this entire unit that the young woman truly respected, and hearing stories of her conquests… well, the teenager’s sleep had been overtaken by waking thoughts of glory and violence. Struck by thoughts that kept away her dreams, there’d been no other choice in the middle of the night but to gather her assassins and move on the Necropolis in secret.

It’d been risky — but oh, she had been rewarded.

“Captured one of the… the monsters?” Connor asked, going slightly pale.

“No, you fool,” Azula chuckled, “the other enemy.”

John’s face somehow got even paler at that, and the general simply started to cackle and turned on her heel away from the pair of them. She knew what her lieutenant was thinking — didn’t they have their hands full enough with the unmade bastards? Did she have to awaken another beast in the form of the other army already?

She smirked. No, no, no… she’d been the one who was awakened, and at last this realm was beginning to see her for who she was. She wondered, idly, if Hela was watching, and what she thought of Azula’s performance this last night. Would the Goddess of Death finally stop treating her like a child?

Flaps blustered out of the way as she flew into one of the larger tents, a large, wooden pole staked into the mud. Chained completely to the spot was her prize, the still groggy general of the Hell Divers, slowly beginning to regain his faculties.

She squatted down to his level, and reached forward, placing two of her good fingers just beneath his chin. Sparks shot from the tips of her fingernails onto his face, shocking him into direct eye contact. The mysterious man let out a growl at this, and perhaps went to speak — but Azula spoke first.

Let's get down to business.

“Good morning,” she grinned. “Have a nice nap?”

 

[Jak]

Another day…
Another mess to clean up…

It just depends on what mess was left for him this time to clean up after…

He watched the victorious General carrying what looked like another General from the Hell Divers chained up and stopped. He took a deep breath and gritted his teeth while following the fire nation princess to her tent.

He watched Stheno walk in, a little more skip in her step than usual. Something told him the General liked her a bit more.

He forced himself to arch an eyebrow at the General’s “catch” of the day.

John lifted the flap “Alright, so it isn’t an unmade catch, but who exactly did we catch…”

Then again in this war of three armies, beasts were no longer in the form of terminators, but in a lot more angier, unmanageable shapes.

Azula frowned “Some guy named Strazio… all I know is he’s pretty dangerous. “

John’s tan face started to pale right there and then “Alright, General, we know anything about this guy? Other than he’s a Helldiver?”

He eyed Stheno who looked like she didn’t know either.

Sometimes Wars drag on and other times war never changes.

And sometimes wars involve many other factors besides man and machines and time travel.

John held back his annoyance at the situation at hand.

“General, you are saying we know next to nothing about this enemy general we captured?”

Luckily for both of them, the other man was still unconscious right?

Yes, today was another one of those days for Connor.

 

[Sigmund Vrell]

Running a hand through her hair, Stheno sucked a breath in through her teeth. If nothing else, Azula was one hell of a boss. Not just anyone could run into enemy territory and run back out with one of their leaders. She quietly followed after her general, Ladon drawn and resting on her shoulder. The warrior had no intention of using it on their prisoner, not yet at least, but she couldn’t be sure that she wasn’t going to need it. After all, the Helldivers were certainly not going to be pleased with one of their generals being captured, and for all the merc knew they could be rushing in to rescue him any moment.

As the fire princess woke their new prisoner up, the gorgon quietly watched from the sidelines, observing him with the intention of finding out exactly who they had dragged into their camp. The first thing she noticed was his eyes. Even in his current state, groggily shaking himself awake and glancing around the tent, they burned brightly with a fury that sent a chill up even the hardened warrior’s spine. He wasn’t a man that was going to go down easy in a fight, nor one who was going to submit to captivity without a fight.

“Ah… what have we gotten ourselves into?” She thought to herself, a slight grin twitching across her face in spite of the looming danger that they very well could be facing soon. It was no wonder that Azula had taken the injuries that she had while bringing him in. Hell, she was a damn fine warrior to bring him in at all. Stheno could only imagine the fight that he had put up, and when she did she felt a pang of guilt for not being there. What if she had been there? She probably could have saved Azula’s arm at the very least.

Shaking off the unpleasant thoughts, the gorgon focused back on the prisoner. She needed to be alert and listening to make sure that she didn’t miss anything that her general could drag out of him, though she was slightly skeptical that this guy was going to give up anything beyond threats and curses. More importantly, she wanted to be ready in the unlikely but potentially disastrous event that he managed to break his bonds and wreak havoc in the camp. Giving a little glance at lieutenant Conner, she shot the man a small grin.

“Ready for a SNAFU?” She mouthed to him, raising an eyebrow beneath her blindfold. The soldier returned the raised eyebrow to the mercenary, unsure of what she was trying to say, at which point she mimed being in shackles before pretending to break the hypothetical restraints. At that, John gave her a grim look, only for the berserker to jab her finger at the prisoner before dragging it across her own throat. Though obviously disturbed by her enthusiasm, a reluctant nod from Connor made it clear that he would be ready in the worst case scenario.

 

[Strazio Rockwell]

Strazio stirred. A pressure throbbed in his head, as if his own thoughts were painfully swollen and leaking out through whatever crack had been made in his skull. Three figures stood over him, speaking amongst one another in garbled words and tones. Their specific features were a jumbled mess of attributes that Strazio's bruised brain struggled to connect. He moved to stand, but some unseen force kept him pinned. The cold iron around his wrists contrasted sharply with the still-warm burns carpeting his back. A dull recognition of his situation finally surfaced.

"Where… the fuck am I?" He asked, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to collect his thoughts.

"Where do you think, fool?" Azula answered.

"Well," Strazio said, swallowing down a lump of dry spit, "It's gonna be a fuckin' graveyard if you keep talking to me like that."

“Cute,” She said, “Unfortunately, it seems like I won't get much from you, that blow to your head seems to have knocked out any useful thoughts."

His surroundings had grown clearer, as did his memory of the past several hours.

"That was a dirty trick you pulled, shame I didn't get the chance to break your other arm," He said, "But you get some credit for recognizing you had no chance without bringing your lackeys to jump me."

Azula laughed, "You think I, of all people, needed them? The only reason you're alive is because I chose not to end your unfortunate life, they were just there so I wouldn't have to waste the effort of carrying your body."

Strazio fell silent. Slowly and deliberately he looked around the room, continuing to absorb his surroundings. His plastech weaponry was nowhere to be found, as was any weapon. His chains were even too short to use as a garrote. Finally his gaze returned to Azula and her entourage. Silently he pulled his chains taut, straining against their implacable grip. He strained against them, baring his teeth and groaning. Powerful cords of muscles pulsed beneath his pale and scarred skin, threatening to snap as he pushed harder and harder against the restraints. He didn’t need weapons. He was the weapon.

“Does this guy seriously think he’s gonna break free?” The blindfolded woman chuckled, “Are you kidding me?”

Spit flew from between Strazio’s clenched teeth and he forcefully exhaled. The crack in his skull threatened to burst open. And Strazio wished it so. He dared his fucking body to break. If it broke before his chains, then it didn’t deserve to live. Sweat covered his body, stinging at his burned flesh and spurring him onward. Veins popped and muscles quivered. And, at the end of it all, willpower meant nothing in the face of emotionless iron. Like a glass bottle being shattered, Strazio collapsed. He fell down with a wordless and breathless grunt, his chest struggling to suck enough air.

“How in the world does a psychopath like you end up leading an entire army?” Azula asked, knowing that were the tables reversed she could be asked the very same.

Strazio huffed and offered a few more token pulls against his chains, but he had surrendered every last drop of strength.

“Fuck you,” He said through laboured breaths.

“You know, I’m not interested in fighting you--”

“Why!? Because you’d fucking lose in a fair fight!?” Strazio interrupted, catching his second wind.

Azula inhaled and closed her eyes, “No, because we could serve a common goal against those... foul abominations, instead of killing each other.”

Strazio softened. He still wanted to kill her, but some slack appeared in his chains.

“So you fuckin’ ambush me, abduct me, and then want to extend an olive branch?” Strazio said, “You and your two dipshit guards can fuck right off.”

“Well that’s just uncalled for,” Stheno said.

 

[Elise]

It had been a real shitty few days.

Granted, Elise had managed to get away from the temple siege relatively unscathed, with both Nico and Gamzee relatively unscathed. She had been worried that stealing the shackled clown away from Gilgamesh’s wrath would have been a difficult operation, but the Hell Divers thankfully had been eager to provide the perfect diversion.

What remained of the Teen Spirit detachment had quietly excused themselves from the wrecked, desolate battleground the second hostilities had broken out. There had been no news of how things had turned out, but that was fine. Elise and Nico had agreed that being a part of that scene was almost exclusively bad vibes. They had packed up and bolted along with Scathach and whatever other loyal Miniskirts who were still willing to serve them. There had been some grumbles of dissent in taking Gamzee along...but...

She glanced back at the inebriated troll with a sad, wan smile. Elise had to imagine that most people didn’t understand Gamzee the way she did; the nearly uncontrollable urges that he chose to fight and suppress every single day. She had, of course, taken it personally at first when he had clubbed the back of her head. But, once the fighting had died down, she had sought the grey boy out and pumped him full of as much morphine and booze she could muster from their depleted supply. The bandaged berserker gave her an intoxicated, honking grin as they crested a hill overlooking their destination.

“Take a look, fang sister. Rock bro. Assorted cool dudes. It’s the land o’ motherfuckin’ miracles.” he drawled. He gestured his beating stick towards a large, imposing structure jutting up out of the misty treeline. A few buzzards circled on the updrafts high overhead, catching thermals from the burned and clearcut earth that surrounded the outpost. Nico scoffed and took a step forward.

“Well it’s better than where we were. Yo, Scathach. Take Sergeant Swift and a few other Miniskirts...tell ‘em we’re coming.” he shouted before taking a swig of his Monster canteen.

Elise remained silent. Sergeant Swift, one of Azula’s cronies, had brought news that the Legion general had captured Strazio a few days ago. From what she had heard, the whole situation had become fairly bloody. The wizard strained to feel the pulse of the albino’s soul, but they were still too far away.

She had received enough reports from Azula’s crusade to know that the fiery queen wannabe was just as, if not more, brutal than Gilgamesh. Elise had to imagine that Strazio’s contrarian stubbornness had already gotten him in trouble since his captivity. Combined with Azula’s ferocity, the dormant mage’s days might be very numbered...if he wasn’t dead already.

If that was the case, well then, she would have to start some shit. Shouldn’t be too hard with a pyromaniac burnout and a walking rage bomb at her side.

 

[Azula]

“An olive branch?” Azula scoffed. “As if. No, think of this more as an… opportunity.”

The white-haired man bristled before her, grunting and looking away from the fire princess and her two cohorts. Azula rose back to a full standing position, placing her hands on her hips and observing her quarry again. He was lean, skin seeming to be almost stretched over his bones, but she would never forget the ferocious power and rage she felt radiating off of him as he nearly cut short her time in this game. The fact that, thus far, his personality had proven especially volatile only added to her intrigue.

“You and the fools you were with in the Necropolis were walking into a trap,” she shrugged, turning away and putting some distance between herself and her captive. “If you hadn’t ended up buried in the rubble, you would’ve been annihilated by the extensive fortifications those monsters have set up just north of the city.”

The mage blinked, and looked up. “…come again?”

Azula smirked. “Those freaks have a whole set up,” she explained. “Most of my spies fell victim, but a few managed to return alive to share the good news. Fortress after fortress after fortress. There’s no way either of us makes it alive to their castle alone.”

For a moment, the quartet of soldiers sat in silence as the one bound in chains contemplated what Azula had said. The fire princess grew impatient.

“If your friends aren’t crushed already,” she sighed, “they’re going to be dead soon enough.”

“Fuck off,” the young man spat, glaring up at his condescending captor. Azula nodded, resisting the urge to ‘tsk.’ She wasn’t normally one to let prisoners go so long without feeling just a smidge of torture, just a taste of her wrath, but these circumstances were special — this man was special.

And she was running out of options to make her mark.

“You don’t like me,” she said, kneeling once again before the mage, “I get it. Few people do.”

“It’s true,” Stheno shrugged behind her.

“But if you don’t play my game and I don’t play yours…” she trailed off, glancing up at Connor. He nodded her along, finally looking a tad bit relaxed for once in his goddamn life by how amicable the general was being to this prisoner. She looked back at her captive. “…then we both die.”

“And what the fuck,” Strazio muttered, “do I get out of this?”

Behind the princess-general, the tent’s entrance flaps burst open, and a messenger burst in. Stheno turned and unsheathed her weapon — the general had been very clear that this interrogation was not to be interrupted.

“Ma’am,” the young girl shouted, “Lieutenant Elise brings reports from Commander Mustang’s unit. She’s just arrived at Fort Briggs.”

Strazio Rockwell jerked.

“What?” he growled, “Elise?”

Azula quirked an eyebrow. Behind her, she heard the steps of a ferocious Stheno preparing to forcefully remove the disturbance, so she put up a hand and turned toward the messenger. “Down, Stheno,” she ordered. “Very good,” she smiled, “let the Lieutenant and the rest of Teen Spirit know we’ll be ready to see them shortly. Connor, get everyone to pack up this camp and get everything inside Briggs.”

John Connor nodded, and hurried from the room. Stheno and Azula turned back toward Strazio.

“Looks like this is your reward,” the general smiled, throwing up her hands. “Stheno, grab a team and escort Strazio here to one of our highest security cells in Fort Briggs. Make sure to keep him as unharmed as possible. I’ll go meet our guest.”

The princess spun on her heel, marching quickly toward the edge of the tent.

“Who the fuck are you?” Strazio barked after her.

She turned around and smirked. “General Azula, crown princess of the Fire Nation,” she smiled. “Welcome to the Burning Legion, Mr. Rockwell.”

***

Back at Fort Briggs, Strazio found himself thrown into solitary confinement, and Azula found herself staring down from one of the battlements at Elise and the rest of Teen Spirit.

She’d barely seen the young woman since the preshow — a fleeting glance here or there at Caer Thannith. Her arrival precipitated more trouble than Azula wanted to handle right now, especially given reports she’d just recieved that that very castle had fallen.

She turned from her perch and began to descend towards the encroaching Teen Spirit, frustration criss-crossing her features. What the fuck was happening? The Miniskirt Armada was in disarray, and Azula couldn’t believe the reports she was hearing. If she hadn’t been so preoccupied with this high-profile prisoner, she had half a mind to march to any villages making trouble and burn them to the ground.

Not that she blamed them. Losing the castle to those unmade freaks was ridiculous.

But they all underestimated her power, her strength of will to push forward and destroy the monsters that lay in her path. The Burning Legion was not to be trifled with, and if lines needed to be drawn in the sand with these dissenters, she’d happily draw them.

Fuck anyone who doesn’t believe in us, she told herself as she stepped out of the castle and Elise came into view. We will give them something to fear.

A cohort of guards and Stheno at her side, General Azula stood face to face with the leader of Teen Spirit.

“Elise,” she nodded, “I was wondering if I’d ever get to see you.”

Elise scowled.

“Azula,” she breathed, “where the fuck is Strazio?”