This wasn't the first time Deathwish had been arrested.
It probably wouldn't be the last, either. Not in this town.
So while the Guards made a big deal out of pushing him and trying to prove to him how in charge they were, all Deathwish could do was give and insincere smirk pretend he wasn't as angry as he really was.
"You know, I'm not a crook you just caught carrying a TV out of Walmart," he complained, after a particularly violent shove. "I'm innocent. You're just taking me to the boss so we can have this misunderstanding cleared up."
"Innocent my rear end," he distinctly heard one mutter. But out loud, they were as professional as always. "We're at the commander's office. Go in. Sit down. Do not use your abilities, or you will be terminated immediately."
"Yes, sir," Deathwish sighed, giving a one-fingered salute with his cuffed hands. "Just shove me in and let's get this taken care of."
The door to Vondra's office was pushed open, and Deathwish found himself seated in a hard wooden chair in front of the commander and his secretary. The commander looked tired, but there was the same loathing he always had towards in him buried under the wrinkles of his eyes. That snotty secretary was engrossed in study of some kind, but he caught her sniffing and giving him a contemptuous look of her own when he came in the door.
Gee. Not a lot of people in this town like me, do they?
Regardless, he might as well smile.
"Hey Rhonda," he smirked, winking at the secretary. "Did you fall from Heaven? 'Cuz there's a pretty big crater downtown. You should really try to land somewhere softer next time."
"Storm off, Deathwish."
Ah. Good times.
"Let's get right to business, Hawk," the commander snapped, taking a seat himself and glaring across the table. "Two hours ago, I was contacted via radio with this message."
He placed a radio on the table, playing a recording Deathwish remembered too well.
"Help! It's Deathwish, he's at the old mill armory and he's killing all of the-"
The transmission ended with a scream, and Deathwish yawned pointedly.
"Well?" Vondra asked, eyes narrowing.
"Well, I'm impressed you found a way to record all these messages," Deathwish replied lazily. "I mean, where do you keep all the tapes? Do you have a whole vault full of them somewhere...?"
The commander's scowl darkened, and Deathwish rolled his eyes. "Look, commander," he drawled sarcastically. "Have you gotten any follow-up transmissions from the men at the armory?"
"Of course," Vondra replied, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands. "They report that you crashed into the armory, causing an enormous amount of damage and endangering the lives of those working there. An unidentified flight Epic followed you in. They don't know entirely what happened after that, but there was a hell of a lot of destruction and more than a few fatalities."
"And you think I, a loyal soldier of The Dalles, had anything to do with that?" Deathwish asked in mock hurt. "Why, I thought you trusted me."
Vondra glared. "Even you're not that dumb, Hawk."
"You'd be right," Deathwish shot back, voice suddenly serious. "I'm not. Here's what actually happened: I fought an invading Epic, as per my job description. In the course of that fight I caused some property damage that Arsenal or Scribbler could clean up in an hour. I did what I had to do to stop the endless slaughter of human lives, from an Epic who was literally picking up our citizens and throwing them at me."
"Do you expect me to think you had the town's best interests in mind?" the commander asked skeptically, voice hard.
Despite everything telling him it was a bad idea... Deathwish started laughing.
"Hell no!" he blurted out, leaning forward in his chair. "Commander, I'll tell you the honest truth. I laughed when she threw those people. It was the funniest thing I'd seen in forever! The way they screamed, then fell out of the sky when I dodged them, wondering the whole time where the hell the commander who swore he'd protect them was..."
Vondra's eyes flared, his fists clenching on the table in front of him. There was murder in his eyes, and Redlight lifted her head from her study with a look of surprise on her face.
"Let's face the facts, boss," Deathwish continued, still smirking. "In the end, you know as well as I do that I'm more like the slontzes you're trying to keep out than the slaves you've got in here. I'm here because you threatened me, plain and simple. I stayed because you're willing to pay to keep me happy here and there. I get to be the big fish in the small pond."
He met Vondra's furious, murderous eyes. "The bottom line is, I'm happy here. I'm not plotting against you. If I ever get tired of working here, you'll be the first to know about it. Until then, you should trust me to do your dirty work, because you don't have anyone else who can protect this town like I can."
The office was quiet for a minute.
Deathwish kept up his smirk, internally wondering whether he'd just crossed the final line between himself and summary execution.
Vondra's face kept all the anger, but when he spoke again his voice was soft. "When turn against this city," he said simply, "I hope I'm the first you come to. I'll be waiting for it."
"I'll look forward to it," Deathwish grinned, enjoying the rage harden on the commander's face. "Until then, you should let me get my beauty sleep. I get the feeling tomorrow's gonna be even rougher than today, with all these new guys afoot."
"Fair enough," the commander responded, pointedly turning away and rummaging through his files. "I don't expect you to accept any community service for the damaged armory."
"Even you're not that dumb," Deathwish quipped in response, standing and holding out his cuffed hands. "Don't suppose you can help me out of these?"
"You'll figure your way out of them," Vondra replied dryly. "Just make sure you report bright and early here tomorrow morning for your orders. Now get out of my office."
All was silent in the panda camp.
Where normally the tents would be filled with the sound of crunching bamboo and the affectionate "RAWWWWR"ing of rambunctious warriors, on this cold night only the still silence of defeat hung in the air.
Pandas, still clad in their wooden samurai armor, sat with their heads bowed and their eyelids drooping. Some nursed wounds. Some stroked the backs of surviving winged pigs, comforting themselves as much as they comforted the swine. A few took long swigs from plastic bottles, trying to drown their sorrows in the milky baby formula.
Cornelius Octavian Bamblefooze, Hairbinger of Annihilation, wiped the formula from his whiskers as he threw the bottle aside, choking up as he contemplated the depths their army had fallen to.
Their once proud army now numbered only a couple hundred.
Their glorious Prophet had been terribly wounded, and had once again disappeared into the night.
Their pride and spirits had been broken.
Would pandas ever rise to their true place, as the Prophet and Radiant Panda had decreed? Was he a sinner for even doubting it? Would this time of tribulation ever give way to true victory, or had the sweet, nutritious bamboo of hope finally withered and died within their hearts?
And so Cornelius merely sat on a stump, picking up a bloodied human soldier's helmet from the ground and hugging it tightly to his chest.
"Oh glorious Prophet," he moaned, his eyes dewy and wet. "Where have you gone? Please come back to us. Please... water the bamboo in our hearts and make us your strong panda bears once more."
A tear finally rolled down his fuzzy snout, dripping into the helmet and splashing into the blood within. Cornelius sat still, eyes closed and mind beginning to shut itself down.
Suddenly, a bear paw gently closed around his shoulder.
"Oh, my beloved Cornelius," an affectionate voice rumbled. "I am always by your side. I am by the side of every panda who yearns for a world without fear."
Cornelius jerked his head upwards, growling in delight as his eyes gazed upon the face he needed to see most.
The Prophet stood before him, full of size and perfect in form. He stood tall, great wings folded behind him; his paws were clawed, but they were soft upon Cornelius' shoulder. Upon the touch Cornelius felt all his weariness dissipate from him, his every ache vanishing in an instant as his Prophet smiled warmly.
"In this case," the Panda continued, eyes twinkling in merriment, "I am very much by your side, in the flesh no less. I am sorry for leaving you alone, but I required guidance.
The Panda affectionately rubbed behind his lieutenant's ears, before staring out across the rest of the camp. His ears picked up every sound in the camp, and he felt a pang of sorrow upon hearing the defeated silence.
What have you done to my beautiful pandas' spirits, humans? he thought bitterly, paws clenching slightly at the thought. Why do you still resist? What black obstinance compels you to keep on fighting, biting the hand that offers you bliss eternal?
Pushing his anger aside, he instead cleared his throat and let out a deep, guttural howl. It was a mournful sound, almost a dirge; but it carried within it notes of hope. His beautiful pandas' ears perked up all across the camp, and they began scampering towards him in a tide. Their own cries of happiness shook to the skies as they rolled and frolicked on the ground in front of their leader. Even defeat couldn't dampen their love for the leader, nor his love for them!
The howling was enough to draw spotlights from The Dalles in their direction, though of course they were too far to be made out by the human guards of the city. Even if they could, let the humans watch! All they'd see was a panda comforting his disciples.
Comfort was key. Knowing this, the Panda hushed his disciples and stood in their midst, towering above their adorably rounded and blood-splattered faces.
"My dear, magnificent army," he addressed them affectionately, inflating his vocal chords to carry his voice farther. "Today you have suffered defeat."
There was a pronounced slump in the army now, as they all bowed their heads in collective shame. The Panda took a soldier by the chubby chin and tilted his head back upwards, continuing his speech with love echoing from his voice.
"Today there was defeat," he repeated, mournfully. "Not a defeat rising from our guilt or lack of zeal, but from the hardness of hearts in these tragic people. Our panda hearts bring us panda strength, and with panda strength comes panda patience. There will come a day when the great cities of the world open their hearts to us. On that day there will be crowds of black and white, snoozing blissfully in the bamboo woods that will stretch coast to coast. But until that day, patience will be a panda's defining virtue. And with patience... hope, that one day our patience shan't be necessary.
"I show you now a glimmer of hope."
The crowd of samurai bears tensed in anticipation, craning their round little heads upwards to see their Prophet. The Panda opened a pouch he had formed on his belly, reaching into it and pulling from within a rounded, hairy ball.
The ball was a severed human head.
It was severed from the shoulders, with the Panda's paw holding it firmly on the stump of the neck. It was the head of a male human, as evidenced by the dense beard and the general masculinity of the frozen face. There was no blood--the Panda had made this a clean decapitation.
"Tell us, John the Human," the Panda rumbled, "of the new land where we will find human ripe for conversion? A land flowing with milk and honey and baby bottles, where we can regroup and build our armies for new and grand invasions?"
The head, of course, was not dead. The Panda had held brain death at bay through his mighty willpower and the blessed rule over flesh the Radiant One had given him. Now he relaxed his hold on the head, giving it a full set of vocal chords and control over the face. The head's eyes shot wide open, and its mouth stretched immediately--
"OH GOD WHY?" screamed the head, bellowing at the top of its no-longer-connected lungs. "LET ME DIE, PLEASE, JUST LET ME DIE, OH GOD, KILL ME!"
"God will not kill you," the Panda replied simply. "Speak as you were commanded to, and when your voice reaches the ears of the bears you see assembled before you, I will grant you peace. First, tell me where I found you."
"ROWENA!" the head shrieked. "I WAS FOUND IN ROWENA!"
"Rowena?" the Panda asked, turning to the endearingly excited faces of his army. "Tell us, John the Human, of this Rowena."
"IT'S SMALL," came the reply, somewhere between a scream and a choked sob. "THERE'S ONLY A FEW HUNDRED PEOPLE LEFT THERE, AND NO RULING EPICS. YOU COULD TAKE THE WHOLE TOWN IN A DAY!"
A chant began to arise among the pandas. "Rowena. Rowena. Rowena! ROWENA!"
"ROWENA," the Panda bellowed, raising the John the Human into the air and roaring loudly enough to blot out the severed head's screams. "In Rowena the Panda Revolution will take its next bold steps! With the Radiant Panda's guidance and wisdom, we will wash Rowena away with blood and bamboo. From its ashes we will erect a glorious panda utopia!"
The Panda roared.
The panda army cheered.
The severed head screamed, but the Panda crushed it in his paw. Instantly the crushed head was reformed, taking the form of a miniature winged panda no larger than a teddy bear. John the Human, whom the Panda now dubbed Teddy Cuddlekin the Herald of Conquest, cooed adorably and flew to his panda brethren.
The Panda himself stomped a paw down solidly on the ground, spreading his wings and raising his arms in front of the troops.
His power, granted to him by the Radiant Panda, was beautiful but limited. What he did next required the utmost concentration, and would never be possible if his forces hadn't given him their minds, bodies, and souls so unconditionally.
Across the whole army, on each of the hundred or so panda warriors left, pairs of broad muscular wings sprouted through wooden armor. The pandas' backs were dominated by the black-and-white wings. Their lungs were swelled to give them better breath for the flight ahead of them. Even their bones were thinned, their innards siphoned away to make the wings, leaving them with lightweight hollow skeletons.
Content with his work, the Panda himself beat his wings and took off from the ground, rising into the night sky with an ocean stars behind his back.
"Fly with me, my disciples!" he cried, voice overcome with emotion. "Let us ride the winds the Radiant Panda gave us from here to our new empire!"
With a hundred howls and cheers, the swarm of winged pandas took flight, and behind the Prophet sent to guide them, flew off into the starry night.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On a small Dalles street, a pair of Guards dragged an unconscious body towards the clinic. She was dressed all in blue--though that dress in many places was now stained with dark blood.
"Storming woman," one grunted, uncomfortably putting a hand underneath her and heaving her up. "How far did she think she was going to get before we shot her?"
"Dunno," the other one complained. "She's stupider than the usual Epic, that's for sure. Let's just get her to Game so we can--what the storms?"
Above their heads, what appeared to be a monstrous flock of birds had blotted out the stars. It took a moment to see what they actually were: a horde of winged pandas, beating wings and carrying themselves over the city.
"Sparks," one of the Guards breathed in horror. "Not this again. Quick, put her down, we've gotta call HQ--"
But as quickly as the flock had appeared it was gone again. Like migrating birds they were already soaring to the far horizon, northwest in the direction of Rowena.
The two guards were silent for a moment, holding the unconscious woman between them as they stared blankly at the sky.
"Well that happened," one chuckled nervously.
"Yep," the other agreed. "Let's get this chick to Game, call Arsenal to make sure he knows about this, and get us some sleep."
"Sounds like a good idea to me."
