LOG-021.Something I’d grown to accept was that there was a certain…rhythm, to the world I’d found myself unwittingly inserted in.Like a Saturday morning cartoon show, the villains arrived to cause some relatively harmless chaos, the heroes intervened to send them packing, and nothing changed too much lest that easily repeatable dynamic be broken.It had been a project of mine, to see how far I could bend the invisible rules that seemed to maintain that equilibrium. Actual tactics. Plots and schemes that focused upon the accumulation of power, rather than wasting what little the Legion had on base survival and acts of ineffective terror. Training.All of it had added up to my ascension as Gamma Lord. Which in turn had allowed me to push at boundaries even further, until something had snapped.The arrival of a Defender had been unexpected, but very interesting regardless of my loss in that fight. It showed that the Wardens could change and adapt in the face of adversity, or at least bring out old assets that belonged to a darker period of their history.The Mecha-Wardens had been another such adaptation. I had sprung the entirety of the Legion loose in one fell swoop, thus shattering the previous equilibrium of Grunts and Guards generally matching each other in terms of quantity. Putting the heroes at a distinct backfoot as the team that had countered the occasional washed up Lieutenant or General for years were suddenly faced with entire divisions led by coordinated officers.I had wrenched the Gamma Legion back from its status as a glorified gang of sprung cons and organised it back into something resembling the military structure it traced its origins from. And so it was either the universe, or some agent of it that had moved to rectify that breach in balance with the Steel Armada.
It all followed a simplistic kind of logic that rather appealed to me. For every action, there was a reaction. For every problem, there was a solution. It was easy to track. Easy to plan around. A stagnant system was hopelessly easy to manipulate.
A machine uprising upturned all of that.
The closest reasoning I could think up as to why the event had occurred was the arrival of the Red Defender. Perhaps the Wardens had erred and tilted the odds too far in their favour, resulting in a balancing that gave the forces of evil an advantage.
But even then, I could have planned around a single extremely dangerous fighter. Blast, I could have planned around a team of them. An entire army of robots that could outperform the average trained and armoured human being felt…excessive, in the face of that.
And that fact unnerved me. Because if the Steel Armada turning traitor wasn't because of the Defender, then what had prompted it? Was my entire theorem flawed, with things moving outside of my knowledge? Or had something else occurred that required such a radical shift in power?
…Regardless of what it was, it failed to sit right with me. The thought of some system controlling me had only been tolerable thanks to my ability to manage and gain from it. With things as they were, I found myself…disgruntled.
And a disgruntled Gamma Lord, ultimately, was a disgruntled Gamma Legion.
Thus, the Plan.It had taken time, naturally. The assembling of troops. The coordination of transports and stolen airships. The various calls to action.
I had needed to lie. To manipulate. Even to tell the truth, at certain points. All things the master of an army needed to be capable of, in order to ensure that army remained at heel, ready to act upon his word.But as I stood and stared at the burning city of Oykot, hands clasped behind my back and cape billowing in the winds being kicked up around me, the Animus engines infinitely louder now that I was standing within the open cargo section, I couldn’t help but feel it had been the right choice.Pillars of smoke reached for the sky, and if I looked closely, I could almost make out the tiny figures of people running around. Most scattering like ants in the wake of a flood, fleeing and panicking civilians no doubt, but also others forming regimented lines of grey and white before crashing against one another, or throwing bolts of light at the opposing side. Warden forces attempting to resist their former allies.Tilting my head slightly, I turned my head, regarding the ranks upon ranks of Chaos standing at attention behind me.
Hundreds just in sight alone, though I knew there were thousands elsewhere, ready to descend from their stolen and retrofitted airships and transports like an unrelenting, alien plague.
The Grunts, generally stock still and standing shoulder to shoulder, appearing as a faceless, unified whole. The Lieutenants, set in front of their squads and stretching in preparation for what was to come.The Commanders, already staring out at various landing zones, or shooting glances at one another or their subordinates, no doubt thinking up strategies and tactics that might prove useful in the field, and earn them a potential promotion.And my Generals, all arrayed around me, like the lords of a king’s court. Some loyal. Others scheming. One most definitely seeking to stab me in the back, judging by her restless writhing and various mutters that caused some of her colleagues to back away from her. Turning away, I looked at the city once more, and spoke.“There is nothing here that I can say that hasn't already been gone over. We all understand the situation. The Wardens are under attack by their own creations. Humanity faces a machine rebellion. More importantly, tin soldiers have taken our place, playing at the role we have held for so long, no doubt acting as the puppets of another.”My hand rose, glove audibly creaking as I clenched it into a tight fist, a snarl twisting my expression beneath my helmet.
“I will not be relegated to the sidelines. I will not play second fiddle to some hidden mastermind who think themselves my equal! If the Wardens are to be conquered, it will be at my hand! Beneath my boot!”Whipping back around, I gestured to the assembly of Chaos, even as the largest portion of my assembled army burst out into cheers.
“None but the Gamma Legion may hold such a privilege! We are the ones who shall sully and despoil the beating heart of our enemy! We, are the ones who shall pillage and plunder the succulent breadbaskets of humanity! To fight the forces of good is our duty! To stand triumphant, as victors and conquerors, is our destiny!”I was glad for the optional sound dampening of my helmet now, as the veritable wall of sound impacted my armour, leaving me to point out at the city, and more importantly, the gargantuan structure currently crawling with rogue machines.Warden headquarters.“BEGIN THE INVASION! TONIGHT, WE FIGHT IN THE STREETS OF OUR HATED FOE! TONIGHT, WE GO TO WAR AGAINST THOSE WHO DARE COMPETE AGAINST US! LET NO MAN, WOMAN OR CHILD BE HARMED BY A MACHINE, FOR WE ARE THE ONES WHO HARM! FOR TONIGHT, WE ATTAAAAACK!”As the rallying call began to echo around the cargo hold and various figures rushed past me to literally throw themselves down the ramp and begin free falling towards the city, I grinned.Was this all a massive waste of resources? Yes, in the short term it was.Would there be casualties? Of course, one didn't decide to beef with a machine army and expect to avoid taking a few blows.
But would it serve as an excellent distraction and keep the Wardens, and more importantly, humanity, busy while I personally searched for the hand holding the strings of the Steel Armada? Oh, absolutely.Because if there was one thing about what I’d said that remained entirely true, it was the promise that no one but I would feel the purpose and triumph of contesting the paragons of law and order of this world.
The universe had accepted me, and granted me the role of the villain after I had made the effort to obtain it. Thus my path was clear. I could not, would not, tolerate any alternative that might seek to usurp and replace me. And that, was simply a fact.