by Kell Inkston
And at that, Aoline simply crosses her arms, realizing just how lucky she is. Chaos whisked away the immense damage Oa had done to her in but seconds, and though she remembers the agony, at least she’s not experiencing this clueless, steady self-destruction that Chaos seems to fall victim to. It was Chaos that pitied Oa, and it is Aoline that pities Chaos.
“Sir,” she says gently.
Chaos, now on his feet and leaning firmly, dramatically into his chair like a captain at his helm, halts his guffaw. “Oh, yes dear?”
“…You really are… crazy.”
His grin flinches. “Ahh, am I?”
“Like… literally, literally insane.”
Chaos hums as he rubs his light-absorbing chin. “Well… well I find that perfectly reasonable.”
“No, like you should be worried about that.”
“I should?”
“Yes! Is this really what you do all the time? Go on adventures and then just forget about half of it?”
Chaos draws back with a grin in the emerald lamplight. “Now what could you possibly be speaking of? I have not forgotten a single thi-”
“What did you fight in the ruined city after the first necromancer village?”
The mighty overlord, he that surpasses and humbles all that bear mortal coils, pauses in thought as he crosses his arms. “…Why… Well…” He looks to the floor. “I will admit that… that I do not quite recall.”
“A grim reaper.”
Chaos snaps his fingers. “Ahh, of course, it’s all coming back.”
“Then who was the Royal Knight you infested?”
“…G… Godfrey?” He points his finger up inquisitively.
“Glory!” She stamps.
Chaos deflates a bit as his finger curls down. “Blast… So what exactly does this mean?”
“It means we’ve got to get Meeo back! That’s what you need to do!” She stands up and attempts to meet him at height— but even Aoline, so tall for her age, is no match to his Razor Sharp All-Encompassingness. “Don’t forget that you’re after evil!”
Chaos squints an eye in humor. “You dare offer your liege orders?”
She raises further up, onto her tiptoes; after what she felt at the hands of Oa, any merciful, fast death Chaos might offer her does not seem quite as vexing. “I’m reminding you what the real Chaos wants— what the complete Chaos wants! It doesn’t matter what mistakes you make, because your intentions are pure. You’re a good person, Chaos!”
The Overlord draws forward with a hiss. Aoline can feel his sub-zero breath crossing her face like a blizzarding peak “How dare you-”
“One day you’ll thank me for saying it! My mind’s made up: you’re an unimaginably great force for good— you just need someone to remind you of your intentions, how you feel, and what you really want! If Meeo’s not here to do it, then I will!”
Chaos’ face tips into her forehead, but her conviction stay strong as his great white eyes inspect her unmoving expression.
“I….” He takes breath. “Would you really do that for me?”
“It’s clear that no one else is here to do it.”
One stares down the other for a moment more, and Chaos’ challenging smirk warms back into a smile. “Why, that’s… that is quite good of you. I cannot for the life of me recall the last time someone has done something for me.”
Aoline smiles back. “Well it’s a knight’s duty to guide those who are uncertain.”
Chaos scoffs. “Duty, hmm?” He looks across the room to the little attendant minion at the end of the room.
“Butler Minion.”
The tuxed minion straightens firm with a solemn expression.
“What could it be that my most badass Unstoppableness desires?”
“…Wake the funeral minions.”
Butler Minion’s quiet features sadden in put-on professionalism. “…If you recall, sir, most of the funeral minions have been rejobbed due to the… well, lack of funerals for the past hundred years or so.”
Chaos hums. “Have any of my subjects lost their lives in the past hundred years?”
“None that hold your essence, sir. The unesseneced are now handled by Death Minion, the last of the funeral minions.”
The Overlord nods. “Very well, have Death Minion prepare for Ranger Minion’s burial, and Dark Arts Minion’s pyre. I may not remember much, but I remember that’s how they wanted to go.”
Butler Minion bows suavely. “As you say it, my lord,” he says before stepping out on his slim, dark legs.
Chaos turns back and attempts to steeple his fingers for a moment, but realizes yet again that he only has one arm.
“So… is it true that you can regrow you arm?” Aoline asks.
“My essence is finite, so what constructed my limb will be lost until I can retake it. I could reconstruct it using my present store, though it would render me significantly weaker. The matter with that, however, is that I’d need my true arm to build the new frame over top of… and Order has that.”
Aoline’s features darken. “So, you could have fixed it, but because Monument actually severed your real arm, you can’t.”
“Correct.”
“…Could you just craft a new arm somehow?”
He looks over down the hall with a weirdly sad, exhausted expression. “It would not serve me well. My magical pathways are unique, just as are yours, and to lose a limb is to doom that area of your body until the limb is regained. If I made or stole another arm, it could be wrapped in my essence— but it would be a hundred years before I could use it properly. We are all gifted with things that our rightfully ours, and though most of their blasted society may not realize it, Order knows well that anything she fully separates from my frame is her trophy forever— her honor for knowing she had wounded that which no devil or god has been able to… that can wait, because a proper overlord does not shy away from the dangers of being ill-prepared. One must create the authority through which others fear him by, and I refuse to shrink back into a hole to lick my wounds like Oa would.”
Aoline’s fists tighten. “You sound a lot like a Royal Knight.”
Chaos looks out the window again. “I was very dear friends with one of their kind once.”
“Meeo?”
“I… I think I was, but someone else as well. A very good man… he did not hate me for who I was.”
Aoline glances away in thought. If Law were here he could tell her on the spot, for surely that knight would be known as a famous traitor throughout history. “Do you remember his name?”
Chaos crosses his arms as Spirit Minion begins to manifest back into the air. “I believe… I do believe his name was Rayda.”
Aoline’s grip wavers so much her cup almost slips from her fingers. “That’s not possible, sir.”
“Oh, why not?”
“King Rayda founded The Royal Knights; even I know that, and I haven’t looked into a history book since… ever. Well, technically training, but I didn’t really take it seriously.”
“Well, his statues are everywhere, aren’t they?” Chaos adds, not really rebutting, and more so prodding for information.
“And he even has a religion; they say he’ll come back some day to save us all… from you.”
Chaos chuckles darkly. “Thirty years doesn’t feel that long ago.”
“Nations have appeared and disappeared in that time, sir,” Aoline responds; Spirit Minion swirls back unto the scene fully at a bow.
Chaos nods. “The time in relation to the rest makes it all feel so much shorter; the only thing that stays consistent is the moment.”
“V-very philosophical. So are you sure it was Rayda?”
Chaos scratches his chin as he pours another cup of tea. “At least, I thought it was. Nice fellow, gave me a parting gift of sorts to hold for him while he went on vacation. This was indeed thirty years ago, mind you, with all of that… business. I cannot for the life of me remember.”
“He’s dead, sir. He’s been
dead.”
He raises his teacup. “If you say so, my dear, but I could have sworn it wasn’t all that long ago since I’d seen him pass me by.” Chaos turns next to Spirit Minion. “What find thee, spriteling?”
Spirit Minion squats chubbily in the air as it adjusts its crooked hat. “Bzzz bzzz bz bz bzzz, bzzt bz bzzzzzt bzz.”
Chaos’ solemnity purges to excitement instantly. “I knew it.”
Aoline draws forward. “What is it?”
“It really was Pales and her laughable squad of perverts that took Meeo. She was channeling her magic through the Heavy Magic Relay within Overlord Space.”
“The what?”
Chaos looks aside in thought. “It’s what lesser dominionlings use to confer their magic to other realms— much like how I can, but completely fake and weak.”
“Wow… so they just cast magic and project it like a space gate… kinda?”
Chaos waves his head back a bit. “One could say that; it’s quite common for so called ‘overlords’ to pay that fattened serpent to project their magic for them, as they are far too weak to push mana through the folds of reality to different realms.”
“And who’s this fattened serpent?”
“ ‘High Divine Ultimate’ Overlord Infinity— a childish peck that seems to think adding more adjectives at the start of one’s name makes him somehow better than the common monitor lizard.”
Aoline shrugs. “Well he sounds pretty tough.”
“He’s like the rest of them— pretenders. Overlord is not a profession, it is an action, and as far as I am concerned I am the only one. They scramble like mice over their block of cheese, though all I need to do is open the door and drive them from my table. I am the master of their banquet, and they only feast because I humor them to.”
She hums. “And this ‘Overlord Space’ is where they gather, not the name of an overlord.”
“Correct.”
“Got it, so Pales channeled magic through this relay to pick you out and mess us up.”
“Correct; she then appeared herself and spirited away our dear Friendion.”
“So…” Aoline squints. “So how do we get her back?”
The Grand Destroyer of Hope and Civilization presses his hand against his great jaws as his immense round white eyes squint just an inch in consideration. “I imagine my first movement would be to go to Overlord Space— find that pretender Infinity, which will be the easy part, and then persuade him or at least his underlings to let us into the relay center, which is the easier part— and then somehow purse our way through the different dimensional lines until we find-”
“ ‘Purse’, sir?” Aoline questions.
Chaos pauses a moment. “Ah, I meant ‘terse’ I think. Thank you.”
“Bzz,” Spirit Minion says with a small bit of sass reserved only for its dark master.
Chaos draws back as if perplexed. “…Not ‘terse’ either, then?”
“Bzz bz.”
“Fascinating.” He shrugs. “Very well, look through the line until we find Pales’. We will then invade her precious moonlight world and kill her along with her vampire brood.”
Aoline nods. “I expected as much.”
Chaos smiles. “Does it perturb you that I will fell two great trees so close together? Pales has made a fatal mistake just as Oa had in leaving me something resembling even a speck of a scent. I am a fine hound, and I will always hunt that to which I am inclined.”
“And all of this, for Meeo?”
“Not necessarily. I do this ultimately… well, I do not quite know— but depending on when you asked me, I’d say it was for myself, or for the public at large… honestly I’d do it for a cup of tea if that was what it took to get one these days.” Chaos' antennae point up at attention. “The funeral preparations are ready. Let’s be on our way,” Chaos says, offering her his hand as he dismisses Spirit Minion.
Aoline blushes as she draws back into her chair. “You want to hold my hand?”
“On the contrary, I wish to hold you, just as I did in the woods. There are many passages to get to the tower of our destination, and I have many, many things to do before I set off for Overlord Space; now take my hand and I will take you to your spot.”
With both awe and uncertainty, Aoline takes The Overlord’s cold dark hand, and he lifts her up into a grasp along his chest— so gentle, one might think it impossible that any more care could be used in transporting someone. In seconds they’re through doors, across halls— passing hundreds of in-transit minions, all of whom are heading to the same place as the two are. Aoline smiles; she holds on just tightly enough to avoid the heavy edges along his angular body, which are like sharp armor more than anything. She remembers the first time she saw a space gate as a girl, she thought it would feel a lot like this: fast and safe.
In only a moment more, the two appear outside the doors of one of Chaos’ most solitary towers, raised upon a lonely planet. Over the course of many hundreds of years, Chaos’ gardening minions have turned this spanning grassland into a sprawling, wondrous garden, stretching on as far as Aoline can see. Chaos puts her down at the middle of the crowd of thousands of minions, her placement just perfect for her to be neither taller than the minions behind her, nor shorter than the ones in front. Like the rest, she has a perfect view of a stacked-high funeral pyre and an opened grave— the headstone having just been placed by Headstone Construction Minion. Both displays are attended to by a small group of minions dressed down in well-fitting ceremonial clothes for just this occasion, as it’s a rare event that Chaos would allow clothing that is not job-specific and for good reason.
Upon the pyre is an elven woman dressed in white with many of her worldly belongings, mostly books and baubles of some mystical variety. Next to the grave plot is a closed casket, upon it hung a flag to a country Aoline does not recognize.
Chaos takes up a spot between the two displays and admires them both a moment, sparing nearly a minute for each display, then turns around to address the crowd of thousands of minions.
“Children,” he speaks softly, though with his voice it can be heard for miles if he so wished it, “this day we celebrate the lives of two wonderful sorts that I’ve had the pleasure of dominating— Dark Arts Minion, and Ranger Minion. They were both faithful servants, never the kind that would turn down a task, but while they were good workers, they were better friends…. As time is scarce in this particularly trying point while we attempt to rescue our… oh, there they are!” Chaos trails, a smile perking up from his solemn expression as from the tower door spills dozens more minions, having just narrowly escaped from the Royal Knight headquarters and portaled them all back home.
There’s a great cheer among the crowd as the rescued group merges into the formation, only a few worse for the wear of having been captured— though none of them acting like it. One minion looks particularly concerned: a slim, female minion with lenseless glasses and a notebook. Rather than joining in the crowd, she waits by the wayside as she clicks her pen repeatedly.
“Welcome back, everyone,” Chaos greets with a bow of the head. “Now get back in line and shut up; this isn’t your time.” He clears his throat. “Dark Arts Minion kept to herself most times, and was a very studious sort— always having something new to show me. She was also quite the painter. Has anyone seen any of her art?”
A few hands raise up as Social Cue Averse Minion chuckles and says “Art is for nerds” under his breath, which wins him a quick fist to the face by Public Freakout Minion. The fight is then broken up by Police Minion and Gym Minion, allowing the others nearby to tune back into Chaos’ monologue. Though there’s always a joker in the crowd, most of the minions are taking this very seriously, their gazes trained fully upon their overlord no matter what is happening around them.
“Why, how lovely. Yes she loved art, and we painted together quite a lot.” He reaches into his jaws to pull out a piece of oil on canvas that looks like a stick ramming into another stick— both explod
ing into a confusing array of senseless color. “This is one of the pieces she made. I spilled paint on it, though… maybe this wasn’t the best example of her prowess, but if anyone is curious you can see her art in her room in the Pine Tower’s seventy-fifth floor. Ranger Minion was also the sort that mostly kept to himself. That fellow took such good care of his weapons, it really left an impression on me and inspired me to take better care of the Kingdom Slayer. I remember how I got him, too. I was running along some temporal rift and wound up in some horrible dimension where all they do is shoot each other with rifles. I found him bleeding inside a building, and the rest is history….”
He takes a long breath, and sighs.
“I… understand, that this may be strange for most of us, as funerals are not the sort of thing we… have very often at all— but I’d like to remind you all that, no matter our motivations and actions, we are all mortal ultimately; that is a large part of what makes life so precious. Of course, we live forever under normal circumstances, but there are times in which fate intervenes and takes away those we love early… despite our….”
For the first time for Aoline, and even for most of the minions, they see Chaos look away with a very slight, ever so subtle frown.
“…Our very best efforts, there will always be those souls that will be stolen away from your company much sooner than they should be. The fact of the matter is… that I feel horrible. I have failed them both, as I have failed all of you to be a proper overlordly role model. For one of my subjects to die outside of natural causes is an insult to the honor of everyone here, especially my own, and will be a black mark upon my heart for the rest of my days. They were both heroes, and they have accomplished something together which all the knights and the combined efforts of humanity never could in a thousand years….” He waits at a pause, leaving the minions to wonder just what he’s talking about, as he simultaneously realizes he hasn’t brought everyone up to speed yet.