CHAPTER 008
1146 Words
“Save your energy for something more worthy.”
“You're wasting your time, it's useless.”
Emperor Snotlehon advised Adam who was trying hard to activate his superhuman strength, but it kept bouncing back against the ceramic coated walls.
His birthmark glowed faintly as his blood answered the call of whatever ancient god still remembered him.
He pulled. Nothing.
The cell absorbed his fury like a grave absorbs rain.
“So this is where gods come to be embarrassed.” Adam exhaled in frustration.
Across from him, Emperor Snotlehon sat chained to the wall, wrists in indignity. Even in captivity, he wore authority the way old kings wore scars like a badge, proudly and stupidly.
He watched Adam carefully.
“Why?” Snotlehon asked, not angry, just tired. “Why would a commander of Whumcastle betray it?”
“You should be more specific. I’ve betrayed a lot of things lately.” Adam didn’t turn.
“You worked with Prince Eric and guided him to the water, you let him weaken us.”
Adam finally faced him with sharp eyes. “I did not work with Eric. I negotiated with a madman because your city was seconds away from burning.”
“Lies,” Snotlehon snapped. “You schemed and smiled at the people while bleeding us dry.”
“Like I said, you have to be more specific with your accusations.”
Snotlehon sniffed before speaking again, quietly this time. “My daughter, princess Hilda is dying slowly”
“I know,” Snotlehon’s scoffed. ”It’s the love poison.”
“She’s enslaved,” Snotlehon corrected. “And there is a cure.”
Adam’s laugh was sharp. “There’s always a cure when it doesn’t cost you.”
Snotlehon leaned forward as much as the chains allowed. “You are a descendant of a god. Your blood can break the bond.”
“You mean my death can.”
“Yes,” Snotlehon said simply.
The word landed without ceremony.
“Say it again.”
“You will die,” Snotlehon said. “And my daughter will live.”
“You're a clown.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said you're a clown, Adam repeated. “An emperical, blood-sucking-sense defying-selfish clown.”
“Don't forget who you're talking to”
Adam’s eyes burned. “You’re asking me to commit suicide.”
“Are you not a descendant of a god… a war Lord? I'm only asking you to be noble,” the Emperor replied. “You swore allegiance to Whumcastle, remember.”
Adam stepped closer despite the chains. “I swore to protect people; not to be harvested like livestock.”
“You are a descendant of a god?”
“Why does it matter?” Adam’s mechanical arm were clenched. “History would remembers tyrants who demanded other people’s blood to clean their messes, is that what you want?”
Snotlehon barked a bitter laugh. “You think this is about me?”
“Yes, it’s always been about you.”Adam’s voice softened. “My sister is dying, too.”
“What?”
“She needs water,” Adam continued. “Clean water, the very thing Eric stole.”
Snotlehon stared at him for a moment… then laughed a dry, dismissive sound.
“Gamoth? That wasteland?”
“Say her name.”
Snotlehon waved a cuffed hand. “One peasant girl versus the future of Whumcastle? Be serious.”
Adam moved so fast the chains snapped taut, slamming him inches from the Emperor’s face.
“Be careful, we’re talking about my sister here.”
Snotlehon met his gaze, unflinched. “Then prove your loyalty. Die for something that matters.”
“You don’t get to decide who I should die for, not anymore.”
“You’ll do it.”
Adam turned away. Being a god was hard, coming from the descendant of a god was harder.
“You swore to protect lives.” The emperor wasn't giving up anytime soon.
“That is the job of a soldier.”
“You will help me, and you will save my daughter. End of discussion.”
Adam felt it useless to keep engaging him, so he kept silent, longer than before.
A soldier arrived with confidence and stopped just outside the cell. His boots scraped against concrete and keys chimed like bad news. “Commander Adam,” he said, boringly. “On your feet.”
Adam didn’t move.
“If this is another execution rehearsal, tell them I’m tired of auditions.”
The soldier snorted. “Worse. You’re fighting.”
Snotlehon lifted his head. “Fighting who?”
“A cyclops with Wheel-legs. Built to tear men apart with a punch.”
Adam frowned. “What for?”
The soldier leaned closer, lowering his voice as if sharing gossip. “Prince Eric and Zooro are arguing over Whumcastle. Neither trusts the other, so they made a gamble.”
“If Adam wins,” the soldier continued, “Prince Eric rules. If the cyclops wins, Zooro takes the throne.”
Snotlehon barked at Adam. “You're not fighting!”
He turned to the soldier and wailed same. “He's not fighting, go and tell your foolish, beautiful princess that Adam is not fighting.”
Adam stared at him in mockery. “All of a sudden, you cherish me.”
“C’mon man, my daughter's life is in your hands.”
The soldier shrugged, stepped forward and unceremoniously unlatched Adam’s iron arm.
“Hey, I'll need that.” Adam hissed.
“No, you won’t. They want it fair.”
“How is it fair with just one arm?”
“Exactly,” the soldier said. “Crowd loves irony.”
He dragged Adam down torch-lit corridors as Snotlehon’s plea faded out. Chants began to bleed through the stone and the arena roared onve he made his entrance.
Oh unfuckingbelievable!! He gasped.
At the center stood the cyclops, massive, wheeled instead of legged, its single eye glowing blue and arcs of electricity crawled across its chrome-plated skin.
Above the arena, Princess Hilda sat beside Zooro, his hand boldly resting on her waist, her head tilted toward him and lips laughing at something he whispered. He was pained.
“That’s not her,” he muttered to himself
The bell rang and the cyclops charged at him but he rolled aside as a lightning-charged fist shattered the ground where he stood. Sand sprayed like a blessing.
His power surged and the crowd went wild with excitement.
He grabbed the cyclops mid-charge, lifted it with his superhuman strength and slammed it headfirst into the arena wall. Sparks exploded and the eye flickered.
The cyclops roared in pain; Adam roared back. He tore the power core free with his bare hand and the wheeled cyclops collapsed in a shower of sparks, blood and smoke.
But then something else happened.
- Writer
