The Paper Bois: Tul’s Revenge : Part I

Part I

(This tale takes place not too long ago, in Hannibal… Where the pigeon hoard gathers to transfer information throughout Colhaven, and the rest of the world. The leader and General of the pigeons, Tul, is seen roosting atop a rooftop looking over the plaza, when suddenly his captain quickly glides toward him.)

“Cooo! Cooo!... *huff*... Brrroo!... Co!...” Yelled his captain.

(Oh, yeah… I guess Pigenarno isn’t a known language… I will translate.)

“General! General!... *huff*... News!... Danger!...” Yelled his captain.

“At ease… Report, Captain Damalsceel.” Tul sternly replied.

The rather overweight captain, huffing and ruffled up from fleeing his secret location, quickly composed himself and began detailing his current mission. “I just got a good look at that ‘scary man’ Oakloo caught sculling around the back alleys…*huff*... I think that chicken shit was right, sir… There really is a human who is aware of our actions.”

“*scoffs*... Impossible...” Tul said bluntly, looking more aggravated than puzzled.

“It’s true, sir… Saw it with my own eyes.” Damalsceel quickly responded, still winded. “It’s this weird man who lives up north, near the coast. I even hear him preaching in the town center about our people spying on the general population.”

“And who actually is this bastard to these meat-eaters?...” Tul demanded, looking down at the town’s sketchy residents below.

“We still do not know, General…” Damalsceel sighed, joining his leader as they sculked. “... I caught him multiple times in a tavern this week, ranting and raving like a lunatic, and I almost got a look at his face in the square when he suddenly looked straight at me with this… grin.”

Silence fell upon them at the sound of his last word, and Damalsceel could tell his general was contemplating any and all opinions before he decided on which action to take.

“Ok, listen up… This is the plan…” General Tul began, now pacing the top of the roof as he formulated his strategic vision. “... I will relay a message to Ucel-…, *sigh*... King Ucello…, and allow you five percent more scouts for the area... Make sure no one gets too close, or trys any ‘brave’ antics on their own… If he catches wind of any more soldiers, he may retaliate, or gain proof of our plan.”

“Aye, General.” His captain lifted his wing in solute, and immediately took off to begin rallying more troops.

Once the plumped pheasant was out of sight, Tul motioned to another nearby perched ally.

“Aye, General…” The well-hidden spy motioned.

“I need you to deliver a message to King Ucello…” Tul ordered firmly to his Lieutenant General. “It is of the utmost importance that he receives this message directly… No middle feather, and under my direct order… If anyone gives you trouble… Especially that cockrod, Sunbreaker… Then let me know first hand… That asshole is constantly looking for a fight, and I will not have him disregard my battalion any longer.”

“Aye, General…” The loyal soldier nodded.

After saluting, the messenger quickly flew off towards the southern Black Sea, where it would take many moonlight nights to reach their sacred home of Heaven’s Peak.

“Flame’s speed, my friend...” Tul whispered to himself. Hoping no further ‘inconvenience’ would show themselves before his king knew of their situation.

******************************

In a small fishing town called Toma, only a day's flight from Hannibal, Captain Damalsceel arrived with additional allies to help patrol the local forest and river beds for their target. The area was well at ease as daylight broke over the horizon, and a cold breeze coming in from the sea was bringing along with it a light fog to settle across the doorsteps of the local townsfolk.

Though the town was smaller than most fishing ports, it still carried many residents with youthful minds, as well as many other hard working contributors of the self-established settlement. The fishermen were already up and preparing their nets by the time Captain Damalsceel flew in with his newest recruits, and was surveying the town’s rooftops when he spotted his First Lieutenant, Peslee, sitting among the outer rafters of the town’s storage hall.

“Status, Lieutenant!...” Damalsceel called as he came to land next to him.

The tall, but somewhat dull pigeon turned to face him as he landed, and quickly stood at attention to salute his approaching commander. “Sir... Our forces witnessed the target due north and half a click from our location… There is a cabin in the cliffs there where we believe he resides... Last known whereabouts are still being tracked in that general location.”

“Any further reports on the target?... Name?... Rank?... Family?...” Damalsceel asked further.

“Nothing beyond what we already knew, sir…” Peslee continued with a softer tone. “Seems the townsfolk do not associate with the target… He has been called ‘Loony’ by most, but some refer to him as ‘Dumbass’…”

“*sigh*... Those are slur names, Lieutenant Peslee…” Damalsceel cooed back, rubbing his temples at his gullible younger officer. “Didn’t they teach that in basic intel networking?”

“Sir… Sorry, sir… I was merely taking the piss on our target.” Preslee smirked, attempting to have a laugh with his Captain.

“Keep in mind, Lieutenant… Our great general has taken a non-humorous approach to this target, and is expecting orders from King Ucello himself on the matter in the coming week.” Damalsceel said with a frown, though he did wish their mission wasn’t as serious as it was.

“Aye, sir… Apologies, sir…” The lieutenant answered with a salute, and changed his demeanor to a more serious one.

Damalsceel then began surveillance on the northern location of the town, where many of his soldier’s reports saw him entering and leaving from. “Has there been any abnormal actions or retaliation from the target since we last spoke?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, sir…” Preslee confirmed. “He’s just been standing at the well at the center of town, rambling about our existence to anyone that passes by.”

“Did any of the humans listen to his words?....” Damalsceel said cautiously, now looking down at the local watering hole where most of the residents shared in gossip or sold their wares.

“No, sir…” Preslee continued. “Most of the people here, as well as in Hannibal, either avoided eye contact or laughed at him. The only ones who were enticed by his ramblings were the younger humans, but were quickly led away by their elders.”

“But that’s where it starts, soldier…” Damalsceel sighed heavily at the news. “First, the young ones become interested… and create these ‘fables’ that they’ll grow up telling each other about this ‘madman’ that can talk to non-common avens. Soon others will take it to heart and begin their own investigations. Within a few years, we would have several, maybe a hundred of these targets.”

“By Ucello’s flame, Captain... Shouldn’t we act now before that terror begins?” Peslee said with a nervous frown.

Damalsceel simply turned to look toward their god’s eye in the sky, and with a heavy sigh, spoke from his gut. “General Tul knows what is best... If he tells us to wait, we wait... Fly, we fly… Swim, we swim... Die, we die... His knowledge is just, comrade.”

“Of course, sir...” Peslee agreed, keeping what his Captain said close to his heart.

The pigeon lieutenant then saluted one more time before he flew off to begin another day of recon and investigating, while Damalsceel secretly thought to himself. … Now If only Tul had more restraint on his mouth…

******************************

Two months had passed…

With no other word or messengers from the north…

General Tul had begun to worry… He was truly expecting a messenger to return soon with orders from their King to allow him to take action against such a dangerous threat from the ‘normal’ realm… but with the Summer Cycle coming to its end, and the Fall winds picking up, it seem evermore urgent that his message be heard by their all-powerful God-King in the sky. Before the harsh winter storms froze them in the ‘unlivable’ outpost…

He did have to remind himself constantly that he, as well as most other ‘primitive’ avens, couldn’t fly or fight as fast as their larger, more ‘evolved’ cousins, and that an obstacle could have slowed down his most trusted officers… but that was also the main reason why their place in their large race was so important to their king. The distance from Heaven’s Peak to Hannibal was indeed long and vast, and even a ‘normal’ aven would take nearly a month to navigate the harsh winds...

… But the long, yet very proud lineage of Pigeons have taught their descendants many fast traveling techniques to circumvent the sea. Even for just one of Tul’s messages to go from Hannibal to Heaven’s Gate, it would only take fifteen days to deliver his information. Nearly half the time it would take a well-trained Warhawk to fly the same distance over the same waves.

The training for this most regarded position was deadly, and near impossible, for any daring young pigeon to take on… but for the few who do make it into their General’s squadron are seen as the most elite of his troops. They are known as Brrroocoo…

… or in the common tongue…

The Paper Bois.

“General!...” Another of his Paper Bois’s suddenly beckoned as he began his descent towards the general.

“Private Oakloo…” Tul said in turn, even in a relieving tone. “What are the orders from our king?”

The private then landed, and saluted his general. The general quickly motioned him at ease.

“I’m afraid I have troubling news, sir…” The small, more skittish soldier rasped as he prepared for his General to snap. “... Your message was never able to reach our king...”

“Fucking WHAT?!....” Tul yelled furiously.

(Weeks before… At Heaven’s Gate…)

“... What are you doing here?...” Lord Sunbreaker, Master of all of the Phoenix's armies exclaimed.

“Our general has reports for King Ucello… *huff*... His ears only...” Tul’s Lieutenant, Hernetzee, explained. Winded but standing firm as he looked up at the towering Eagle War Leader...

(Ok, so… Let me explain the finer details of the trip from Hannibal to Heaven’s Peak…)

• Once a message is received, the Paper Boi flies to checkpoints along the coastal wind currents along the way. These checkpoints are designated ‘vacation spots’ for the race of pigeons. The Paper Bois then gets to enjoy the relaxing scenery and ‘personal’ trainers inhabiting the islands once the message is delivered. It is then up to the next of the Paper Bois to fly it to the next checkpoint. This is the reason the position is so enticing to the soldiers, but most fear the impossible training that gains them such pleasure. Even a private among the Paper Boys outranks all other commanders in the pigeon population, and Lieutenant Hernetzee is the most qualified to lead the legion of pigeons if Tul were to be incapacitated, or somehow found dead…

(But, yeah… Back to the story…)

“You can’t see him, pigeon-born… He is busy at the moment.” Sunbreaker scowled, looking down at the Lieutenant with a foul grimace. “Knowing Tul, it’s probably not worth his time… Just give me the message, and I will present it if I find it’s worth his time…”

The captain sternly declined the head of the Eagles with a rather unapologetic frown of his own. “I cannot deviate from my general’s command, Lord Sunbreaker... I have strict orders to deliver this matter directly to the Ki-…”

“Then tell Tul to come deliver it himself if it is so important!... I don’t understand why the littlest “situations” have to be directed strictly to Ucello...” Sunbreaker snapped, the feathers around his collar fluffing up. “So go tell Tul the next time he sends one of his playmates to bother our King over something silly, I will personally see his position questioned at our next meeting… Is that understood?”

Herneztee glares at Sunbreaker with a curled brow, but bites his tongue in fear of in-house retaliation. “Crooo...”

The defeated Lieutenant then turns back around to begin his flight back towards the checkpoint.

Tul better get his shit together. I’m not having this mockery in my domain… Sunbreaker thought to himself with disdain...

(It was because of Aven’s like Sunbreaker that Tul had an unhealthy dislike for most of the Generals in Ucello’s ranks. He did not trust anyone or anything that wasn’t his kind, or Ucello himself. This attitude has placed a growing rift between his people and Heaven’s Peak that was already in danger of separating into a more ‘higher-born controlled’ government that was coming too soon to their God’s rebirth.)

(So let’s go back to the General, and see how he’s-...)

“That fucking worthless f*****r!... I hope that s****-d*****y gets fucked by a hoard of- coo coo, broo croo broo coo’s!!…” Tul continued on in a rant on top of a roof.

(Oh, gods… I’m so sorry, I had to censor from then on due to some real ugly language. Tul never was good at receiving bad news. And the worst was yet to come.)

“General!...” Damaslceel’s lieutenant shouted toward his general.

“Fucking what now?!...” Tul shouted back at his soldier.

Lieutenant Peslee then stumbles to land, and salutes his furious General like a nervous wreck. Tul aggressively motioned his subordinate at ease, thinking his shouting had unnerved him, but would soon learn that was far from the truth.

“G-General T-Tul, s-sir… T-The o-others… a-and C-Captain D-Damalsceel…” Peslee stuttered, pale and ghosted eyed as he could barely think of how to retell his morbid news.

“Come on, then!... Spit it out, Lieutenant!” Tul yelled, not in the mood to wait on idle tongues.

“G-General Tul…” Peslee then sharply rasped, forcing himself to speak over his fear. “T-The target h-has… *gulp*…. The target has k-killed all of our troops in the north...”

Tul eyes went wide, and after a moment to take in what he had just heard, he simply asked as he began to shake angrily. “...How many?”

Peslee, sniffing and trying not to cry, replied, “1,362 soldiers, sir...”

Tul instantly turns bright red, and begins shouting in a much darker tone...

(Again, his language gets ugly. So we’ll just jump to what had conspired in the north.)

******************************

(One day ago….)

The thick fog that layered the town of Toma in an impenetrable cloud of moisture was still lingering amongst the town’s borders, and had now grown so thick that even the local hunters wouldn’t venture towards their game trails. Dawn was about to break into a new day, and no activity could be seen of the target since the return of Captain Damalsceel, and his reinforcements. The fishing nets had been laid on the ground by the fishermen until the fog could pass, and the town was now as quiet as a temple on Solace.

“I don’t think there will be any reports this morning, Captain...” Peslee remarked, squinting through the clouds to his half-awake leading officer.

“*yawn*... Seems so, my boy…” Damalsceel said sleepily as he stood stoic on the highest rooftop. “... but remember, my dear Peslee… We gotta keep our eyes open… On everything… *yawn*... and everyone...”

As dawn’s light began to help illuminate the swirling mists, a few brave children had begged their parents to let them play outside. They held little bags in their hands as they sang and skipped in the square, and once they reached the well, they called out to their favorite ‘pets’ to come and enjoy their table scraps.

“Oh, vale yeah, sir!... Looks like feeding time is coming earlier than we expected...” Preslee exclaimed, nearly jumping off the roof as his captain held his wing up to pause him.

“Careful, lieutenant… At that age, they just want to pet and capture us for their own amusement...” Damalsceel looked upon the smiling children. “Just stick to the protocol… Stay six feet away at all times, and don’t let them touch you.”

“Will you be joining us, Captain?...” Preslee remarked, seeing his other comrades flocking down to the children to eat.

“I will get the leftovers… As usual.” Damalsceel waved, knowing it would be foolish to leave no one as a lookout.

Preslee then eagerly flew down as the children began throwing seeds out among the ground, and wave by wave, the soldiers began pecking at the ground. Soon nearly all of his soldiers were feeding off their free feast, with the curious children watching them with glee. Their innocent moment even softened Damalsceel’s mood as he continued to survey the area, thinking of his and his general’s youth…

Reminds me of when we were still Sergeants…

… Ain’t that right, Tul?

(Flashback: Years earlier…)

“... Come on, Wisbee!... Quit being an ass, and join us...” Damalsceel yelled from the center of town.

In the midday heat of Hannibal’s distant past, loads of travelers and residents moved around the city, and almost all the local shops were calmly running like a clear stream. It was well known that the elderly would care for the pigeons by throwing bread crumbs and seeds on the ground, so Hannibal was famous for being a banquet for the troops. With an endless supply of food, fun, and love for any that were lucky enough to be stationed there.

“I can’t, you dick…” The pigeon known as Wisbee proclaimed, unmoved from his perch on top of a local shop. “... General Tul will be back any minute, and I can’t disappoint him again… At least not this week…”

“Oh, to vale with the ol’ ruffle-neck…” Damalsceel mockingly proclaimed back. “... You know when you change your name and rank, you can’t have fun with us any more... So come on... Lighten up, and join us one more time.”

Hearing his nest mate speaking the truth only made Wisbee pace more on the rooftop, deeply contemplating his next actions.

“Fuck it…” He finally laughed, and quickly flew down to meet Damalsceel, and his fellow feather-on-wings.

“Took you long enough…” Damalsceel grinned as he moved over for his oldest friend to land. “... I saved you the best parts by the bench over there… It’s all yours, buddy.”

Wisbee then glanced toward the bench, and soon his smile turned into an annoyed scowl. “You ass... That’s nothing but crust and mustard seeds... You know damn well I hate that shit the most.”

Damalsceel laughed at his soon to be commander. “Well, the way I see it… Once you're General, you’ll be able to get the best scraps, so eat the shit and be happy.”

“... Fucking brown nosing piece of shit...” Wisbee mumbled to himself, but didn’t let his friend’s playful jab at him bother him for long. Especially when he knew that all their antics would have to come to and end once he took up the ‘Tul’ name and legacy…

• For you see, in King Ucello’s court, there has always been a time-honored tradition that has been going on since the beginning of The Known Realm’s records. In the early years, when the kingdoms of the world were still very much being created, King Ucello had close companions that consisted of a few Avens with strong attributes in many different areas of study. The names of the legendary generals themselves are given to their successor. The name ‘Tul’ has always been given to the next General of The Paper Bois that Ucello would choose, be it male or female.

• (It’s also been told throughout the ages that the reason why this is still practiced is because of the King himself. For every time he is reborn, his memory is wiped, but for some strange reason, the only people he can remember are the people he met in his ‘first’ life... Even I don’t know why he’s like this.)

(But anyway, back to the flashback…)

The troops ate plenty that day… and after a well earned meal, the group flew down to the grasslands to sit in the glorious sun that enveloped their souls, until a familiar presence put a stop to that.

“Wisbee!... You fucking shit excuse for a bird… Get your ass back to your post, or I’ll-….” The former General Tul bellowed among the troops as he returned from his latest mission.

“Fuck, dude...” Wisbee sorrowfully whispered, wishing he could enjoy his moment of peace for a little more.

“Hehe, yep… That’s the sound of someone going on Paper Bois duty...” Laughed Damalsceel.

“Oh, you’ll see… Once I’m general, I am going to make you pay for all the guff you’ve given me...” Threatened Wisbee with a smile.

(Flashback: End)

Back in the present…

The other pigeons continue enjoying their gifted meal, while Damalsceel is reminiscing about the past. Then all of a sudden, the children run back into their homes, without warning, as if they saw something that frightened them.

Damalsceel was the only one that could notice in time, and looked around with a confused brow when he noticed a strange figure covered in bushes and mud rising up from the forest edge. The figure grabbed a rope dangling next to him, and with a violent jerk, pulled at it with all his might. A contraption was sprung at its tug, and a complex pulley system was activated all around the well. Within seconds, the nets the fishermen had left on the ground hoisted up, trapping nearly the entire troop of pigeons before they could take to the sky.

“HAHAHAHA!!!....” The man squealed as he began to dance and jump with delight that his plan had worked. He continued laughing at the caught pigeons as he danced toward them in a manic tone.

“Hehehe!!... I have you now!... I have you now!… I caught the spies!... I caught the spies!!...” The man gleefully sang. “You are mine now, pretty, pretty birdies... You are mine now… You are mine!!....”

Damalsceel froze with disbelief. He couldn’t believe how quickly the day has turned. He watched nearly all of his brethren get captured, and there was nothing he could have done to stop it. The only thing he could do was act in the now, so he quickly began analyzing the man to hopefully begin a counterattack of his own.

The target was around five foot 6 inches, with an estimated weight of two hundred and eighty pounds. He appeared to be wearing a hand made suit of mud and brush to disguise his presence, and seemed to be the only thing we were actually wearing.

... But how did he pass the scouts surrounding his dwelling?!... How did he plan this right under our beaks?!... Damalsceel feverishly began questioning.

He had to shake the thoughts for now, and focused on an action plan before the madman could continue his plot against them. Damalsceel then dove off the rooftop, and began to descend upon the feral human, with his talons sharpened, and aimed directly at the man’s throat. He knew that he was no match for humans, but dared do his best against this foe. He successfully slashed at the man, but only left a scratch.

“Owwah!...” The man bellowed, swinging arm around to defend himself. “Fucking rat with wings!....”

The man then rushed to grab some old oil buckets left by the houses the children ran into, and Damalsceel strangely knew his efforts weren’t going to end well, unless he released the captured. He quickly began searching for a weak spot in the multiple nets to break them out, and as he flew around, he spotted Preslee trashing against the tightened ropes. He instantly dove towards him, and landed on the rope against him to begin clawing and pulling on the restraint.

“No, Captain!... Just run!... There is no time…” Peslee shouted, but Damalsceel would not heed his pleas.

His Captain relentlessly pulled and yanked with all his might until finally a strain snapped! in the binding, and allowed Preslee to escape, with many more following behind him

“Captain, hurry!... What are your orders?!...” Preslee hastily called, trying to dodge his fellow aven’s as they took to the sky.

“Go back to General Tul!...” Damalsceel grunted as he tried to free another net. “Make sure he knows what is happening… I will help everyone here… Now GO…!”

Preslee simply nodded, and turned to fly towards the northern tree line right as their captor finished throwing his last bucket on the net Damalsceel was trying to free.

“No, no, no!...” The mad man yelled as he threw the slick water amongst the nets. “... I’m not letting any more of you escape!...”

He had tossed 10 whole buckets onto the nets. Soaking all the pigeons, including Damalsceel, who was still trying to save his soldiers. He then held an oil soaked stick with a cloth on the end, and lit it with a firm strike of stone.

“No!!...” The horrified Captain gasped.

Damalsceel now understood how severe this human's plot against them would end, and in a last attempt to give him more time to save them, began another strike on the man. He drove his body as quickly as possible, and as strong as possible, towards the man’s face. He aimed once again to hit on the open wound he had left behind earlier, hoping this time he could puncture his mark…

WHAM!!

… but unfortunately, the monster that had outsmarted them was also a lot quicker than what their intel had gathered.

The man had swung his torch, and hit Damalsceel… Sending him to the ground with a hard thud. Luckily, the oil on him didn’t catch fire, but the impact had left the captain unable to move. The man then gleefully laughed at his defeated foe, and with his torch held out, he began to set the screaming nets ablaze.

All five of the nets holding the pigeons captive were immediately engulfed in an inferno that couldn’t be stopped, and with no hope of rescue, the troops wailed in anguish as their bodies began melting from the devouring heat and oil. Within just a few minutes, all the pigeons that were still captured were now no more, while the small number that did survive were fleeing to Hannibal to find their unaware leader.

… all while Damalsceel, who was unable to move from the pain, cried out as his troop was no more.

******************************

“Fuuucckkkk!” Tul yelled out into the world, hearing the worst possible outcome to ever happen to his people.

Lieutenant Peslee still stood shaken, and on the verge of tears. He never witnessed his general become this angry before, and it was utterly terrifying to watch his beloved leader in his fit of rage.

“W-What are our orders, general?...” Peslee nervously spoke, in fear he may be his general’s next target.

Tul then sat on the rooftop with his eyes closed, trying to think of a plan for what seemed like an eternity, but only a few moments had passed. Once his eyes opened, however, Tul stammered toward his Paper Bois with a fire in his eyes.

“We are taking flight, soldier...” Tul ordered as he motioned them towards the south. “This is going to be a rough flight, so stay with me the whole way.”

“B-But General Tul… What is the plan, sir?...” Peslee attempted to pry.

General Tul simply turned to look at Peslee with a cold stare, and didn’t break his tone as he continued to voice his mind. “Well, seeing how a certain asshole kept my information from Ucello, I have to go get direct orders from him myself…” Tul then approached Peslee, and with a lower tone, spoke more of the ‘confidential’ requirements they needed in order to kill a non-aven. “Since we are dealing with a human, we need special permission from our king to ‘deal’ with them, or we could incite a war with their kind...”

“B-But, sir… It’s only one human… and he must pay for this atrocity!...” Peslee nervously but angrily spoke out, more or less puzzled why they couldn’t act against their enemy in the now. “I just witnessed that bastard kill over a thousand of our comrades… Surely, our king wouldn’t-….”

“Do not predict our king’s knowledge, Lieutenant!...” Tul snapped, almost fluffing up from his own rampant rage. “We need a plan, and if you haven’t noticed, we are not equipped to deal with a human... Let alone one that vanquished an entire troop… Fuck!...”

“W-What about us then, s-sir?....” A single brave voice asked, and both Tul and Peslee turned to see the few surviving pigeons that Damalsceel had freed were now sitting patiently, but shaking, on the roof’s edge.

“Yall are dismissed for now…” Tul quietly ordered, and waved for them to find shelter.

“But, sir!... We can’t just do nothing while that madman celebrates his victory... We wish to retaliate!... We wish for revenge!...” Peslee sternly made his thoughts clear.

“And we will...” Tul proclaimed, his voice full of conviction. “... Once I return with King Ucello’s blessing, I will personally see to the utter demise of this intolerable shit stack... I will rally all my troops, and all the rage of my people upon this one man... I will put the fear of Ucello in his heart, and then bathe in his fright so we can properly avenge all the innocent souls we have lost… This I promise to you all, Lieutenant… So do not question my resolve…”

Peslee, trembling with vengeance, then salutes his commander. “Aye, sir…”

*****************************

Far into the northern forest… In a lone cabin on the outskirts of town… A horrendous laughter could be heard, cackling throughout the woods… All while the dreams of a single pigeon were lost to the desolate night.

The cabin was in disarray... Papers, trash, and feathers were piling up nearly every crevice… A lone candle sat on a filth-ridden floor… Along with a steel cage that the crazed man was lingering over.

“I did it… I did it!... I stopped the spies... I saved the town!...” The man heckled with delight. “They called me crazy… Fools… Fools!... They bullied me… They ignore me… Now they will call me a hero… Savior... Maybe even King!...”

In the steel cage he cradled, the captain Damalsceel began to awaken. In a daze, he attempted to gain a sense of direction, but this was only met with a splitting headache as the monster looking down at him began to mum and laughed.

“Seems my new little friend is awake…” The boisterous madman gloated.

“W-What is happening?...” Damalsceel weary remarked, still too groggy to realize how and why he was now in his captor's hands.

“You are in my home…” The madman squealed. “My new friend in my home… Yaaay!... We will be the best of buddies here…”

Damalsceel, still confused, then asked. “W-Wait… Who are you?...”

“I am your friend…” The madman grinned with joy. “... You can call me Niko.”

“Wait, no… NO!... You're that bastard that killed my flock!!...” Damalsceel fell into shock, now coming to terms with the memories that were swarming him.

Niko simply nodded his head, slowly and assertfully. “Yeees… It was Niko that killed your friends… It took me years…. Nearly a decade... But I finally can understand your secret spy language…” He then giggled childishly. “... and now you will tell me everything I wish to know… My sweet, new best friend...”

Part I: End