Rise of the Supervillains

by Jaron Lee Knuth

  “So, in the wisdom of Imperator Konstantin, along with the very public farming and steel production camps, he created something in secret. He enlisted large groups of men and women to create citizen farms.”

  “Citizen farms?” Wesley asked, but as soon as he said it out loud, the reality of it set in, and he was afraid he knew exactly what she was talking about. “You mean...”

  “There is a large part of this temple you haven't visited. A group of women devoted to birthing the next generation of workers for the Empire. This isn't something the Imperator necessarily wants to be known, so our secret is his secret. He keeps us in the shadows, where we can practice any belief we want, and we provide him with a flock of healthy babies every month, to ship out to mothers so that they may raise devoted citizens.”

  Wesley was too much in a state of shock to weigh his moral reaction to what she was telling him. The way she spoke was so simple and without judgment, like she had accepted its necessity long ago. The question he asked was far too personal, but his verbal filter was lost either in the confusion of the revelation, or whatever they put in his tea.

  “Are you a part of that group?”

  Zola smirked, then the look in her eyes turned dark. “I am... unable to carry a child.”

  “Oh... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-”

  “There is nothing to apologize for. It simply is. I serve the God-King Kgosi in other ways.”

  Wesley stared at the floor, letting everything she had told him settle in, before something dawned on him.

  “Wait. You said there are children with powers.”

  “A select few, yes.”

  “But that means... You said there are twin brothers. Are they...?”

  Zola nodded. “The God-King Kgosi wills it. A new generation of psionics.”

  Wesley stood up, his body filled with panic. “But that's... that's beyond illegal! Screw worshiping in secret. If the Empire finds out you're breeding SPMDs without their permission...”

  Zola remained calm in the face of Wesley's yelling, a pleasant smile on her face. “Yes, Wesley. If the Empire found out we were raising a whole group of boys and girls with super powers, they would be very angry. They would most likely attack us... try to kill us.”

  “Of course they would!” Wesley yelled, frustrated she was being so calm about it. “They'd send their Guardians to murder everyone here!”

  “Yes,” Zola said with that same gentle smile, like she didn't have a single worry. “And the only hope we could possibly have against the Imperator and his Guardians is if all this time we had been raising an army of psionics...”

  18

  CARMEN

  The lands of Therian were lush with trees and grasses, like they had been untouched by time. Everyone had heard the rumors about the continent, thrown back into an ancient era by the mad scientist Professor Armageddon, but it was another thing to see it. Modern technology no longer worked once you crossed the coastline, which was why Maksim was carrying Carmen as he flew through the air with his niece, Zana, flying by their side. The Therians were notoriously closed off from the rest of the world, feeling shunned by their human counterparts, yet they took pride in their outsider infamy. They opened their borders to only those with animal-hybrid powers, and created a self-sustaining society in the ancient world they inhabited.

  Carmen lost herself in the landscape that rolled underneath their flight path and didn't notice the flock of bird-men that dove out of the clouds until they had them surrounded. They all wore metallic armor that looked like scales woven together and carried heavy bows. The leader of the bird-men flapped his enormous, multicolored wings, and flew up next to Maksim.

  “You will follow us to Dominus Mastodon's castle. Do not stray from your path.”

  There was no threat in the man's voice, but his assuredness when speaking to a Zharkov was unnerving. Carmen had never seen someone even glance in their direction without some hint of fear or trepidation. She truly felt like they had entered another world.

  After nearly an hour of flying at a much slower rate with the bird-men, they neared a vast, open field. Half-men, half-horses galloped across the plains underneath them in military formations. Atop a rocky formation jutting up from the center of the horizon was an incredible structure that appeared more like a hardened stronghold than the home of royalty. Flat walls were topped by four towers that surrounded the main keep. As they drew closer, Carmen could see a gigantic iron gate securing the main entrance to the building, which the bird-men led them toward. When they landed, only the leader landed with them. The rest of the bird-men swooped upward, letting out a series of screeches from their beaked mouths that echoed across the plains.

  The leader of the bird-men neared the gates and spoke to the half-gorilla standing on the other side. Black hair covered the man's thick arms and he rested his fists on the ground in front of him. He bared his gorilla fangs as he called out to someone deeper within the stone walls, and the gate lifted from the ground. The wrenching noise of steel against stone was disconcerting, but Maksim wove his fingers between hers and clenched her hand in a gesture of strength. She smiled up at him, feigning a look of bravery.

  The three of them followed the leader of the bird-men into the castle, through the dark, stone hallways, lit only with torches and lanterns. Beady eyes stared out from the shadows, guttural growls and roars bounced off the walls from deeper within the structure, and the sounds of claws clicking and hooves clopping against the hard floors could be heard from all around them. But it was the smell that hit Carmen the hardest. A mixture of wet fur and musty sweat mixed with the distinct odor of urine. She tried her best to keep her composure and retain a look of pleasantness on her face, but she could not stop her nose from twitching.

  When they reached the throne room, the leader of the bird-men did not enter. He held out his hand, as if to present the doorway, but remained in the hall. Maksim strode past him without hesitation, Zana following after. Carmen kept a few paces behind them, her eyes darting around the room, trying to see everything she could.

  It truly felt as if they had stepped through time. The medieval looking throne room was adorned with torches and banners and pits full of fire. Meats were being roasted above each pit by carnivorous animal-hybrids. Carmen felt her human skin being eyed with distrust as they marched down the center of the long room.

  At the end of the room, atop only a few small steps, was a throne made of bones woven together with straps of leather hide. A blanket made of fur was thrown over the seat, and sitting atop it was Dominus Mastodon. His gigantic, elephantine body was wrapped in robes. His gray-skinned hands were human looking, but over-sized, each finger embellished with a jeweled ring. His elephant trunk swayed lazily back and forth between his bejeweled tusks as he watched them approach the throne.

  Carmen had been briefed before the trip, the Citadel's servants running her through the proper traditions of her royal station. Maksim and Zana did not bow to the Dominus, their royal bloodline keeping them far above the elephant-man, but Carmen took a knee. Apparently marrying into the Zharkovs did not afford her the luxury of staying on her feet.

  The Domina of Therian stepped down from her place next to the throne, her body covered in a rich, yellow fur of a lioness. She offered a paw to Carmen, which Carmen accepted, and helped her back to her feet.

  “Welcome to Therian,” the Domina said, smiling and letting out a gentle purr. “We are pleased to accept your visit to our great domain.”

  “Thank you,” Maksim said, his brutish, short tone forcing its way out. “We have come to discuss important matters with Dominus Mastodon. We've come to speak about the battles that rage in our Empire.”

  Carmen heard a general fervor run through the room. The wolf-men salivated, their tongues lashing. The snake-men hissed. Two ram-people butted their horns against the wall of the throne room. Mastodon gripped the large staff that leaned against his throne and slammed it into the floor three times. Carmen could see the cracked
stone underneath from the many years of repeating that same gesture. The room fell silent.

  Dominus Mastodon leaned forward in his throne and with a low voice that shook Carmen's chest, he said, “It is generally considered rude to enter one's home and speak of war, Guardian.”

  “My apologies, m'Dom, but in times of war, pleasantries can feel a bit... trivial.”

  Dominus Mastodon stared down at Maksim, his face remained frozen in place other than the sway of his trunk, allowing for a long, uncomfortable pause as everyone waited for him to react. He leaned back in his throne and thoughtfully folded his hands together.

  “Then you will forgive me for still finding such traditions to be useful, as our domain is not at war.”

  “How can you say such things!” Zana shouted, making the line of guards that flanked the throne bolt upright, readying themselves. “The Empire is at war! Are you not loyal to your Imperator?”

  Maksim glared back at her, but she did not cower. She didn't even look at him. Her scowl was burning into the Dominus.

  Dominus Mastodon unfolded his hands and stood up from the throne, towering over the entire room. “Loyalty? You speak of loyalty? Was it not the Zharkovs that promised me a domain if my army laid down their weapons, only to present me with the one continent blasted by the mad science of Professor Armageddon?”

  Zana did not reply, which Carmen was thankful for. Everyone knew the Therians had gotten the bad end of the deal when the borders were being drawn for the Empire. The Imperator might not have said so, but it was clear he was shoving the ugly side of his Empire into the darkest corner of the world.

  Dominus Mastodon stepped down from the small landing his throne sat atop, yet he still towered over everyone, his shoulders as wide as he was tall. He stepped toward Zana, but Maksim set his hand on her shoulder in a sign of solidarity. The Dominus appeared to understand the gesture and did not approach her any closer.

  “We did not come to strike a deal empty handed,” Maksim said, pushing Zana forward. “Imperator Padamir rewards those who fight alongside him. Zana Zharkov the Seraphim, Guardian of the east, will produce an heir for your domain with powers your bloodline could, up until now, only imagine.”

  Dominus Mastodon's eyes grew large at the announcement, then his gaze fell upon Zana, eyeing her up and down. He glanced back at the Domina, who offered him nothing in reply, maintaining her grace and composure.

  “She is the daughter of Azakor and Simone,” Mastodon said, still eyeing her like a piece of jewelry more than a human being.

  “Yes,” Maksim answered. “Fourth generation Zharkov.”

  That answer sent another fervor through the room, though more tame than before. Everyone knew what those words meant. She had the gold skin of her mother and the strength, flight, and invulnerability of her father. She would create an heir like no other.

  The look in Dominus Mastodon's eyes returned to a more subdued gaze as he moved back toward the Domina. He paced in front of her for a moment, contemplating what Maksim had offered.

  “This same deal was offered to Neo-Nippon for their help in the Super Power War.”

  “This is true,” Maksim said. “My sister married the youngest of the Oshiros.”

  Mastodon looked back at Maksim from the corner of his eyes. “Yet here we are.”

  “Neo-Nippon are traitors to the Empire! They murdered my aunt and assassinated their own Dominus!” Zana shouted again, but this time Maksim held out his hand to stop her from saying more.

  Mastodon smiled. “So you say. But they have a story of their own. With no evidence to support either claim, I am forced to remain neutral.”

  Maksim looked back at Zana, who accepted the Dominus' answer all too quickly. She did not want any of this, and would be just as happy to return to the front lines alone. Maksim's fists clenched in frustration. This was not his place, this was not where he shined, yet he needed this, if for no other reason than to prove his worth once more to his family. Carmen might have found his compulsion to please his mother a bit pathetic, but it was painful to see the man beaten down.

  “You are a smart and wise Dominus,” Carmen said out loud, as shocked by her action as everyone else in the room. “I am sure you can see through a lie.”

  “Perhaps,” Dominus Mastodon said with an obvious discomfort.

  “Tell me, what sounds more likely? The fact that the Imperator would murder an entire family for no reason, only to start a pointless war with one of his closest allies? Or that the heir to the throne of Neo-Nippon would murder his father and blame the death on the sitting Imperator to cause a frenzy among the other Domini? He has approached you, correct? And what was his offer? That you could remain in Therian while he rules over the Empire? It seems pretty clear, Dominus Mastodon, who benefits from this war.”

  As Dominus Mastodon's eyes squinted in thought, Maksim flashed her a smile. He was pleased with her outburst, and for some reason, that made her feel good. She felt completely out of place in that throne room, like she was living a twisted dream, but somehow that thick-headed warrior made her feel grounded, like an anchor in a storm.

  “And this is your new bride, Warhammer?”

  Maksim nodded. “She is.”

  “Tell me, what domain offered such a smart woman as a prize to the Zharkovs?”

  “Prize? She is not a prize.” Maksim's brow furrowed in anger as he stepped closer to the Dominus, drawing the attention of the guards. “She is a Zharkov and you will speak to her like one.”

  Dominus Mastodon showed no physical sign of backing down, but replied, “Yes. Of course. But I am still curious what she has offered your bloodline.”

  Without hesitation, Carmen answered, “I am the daughter of Plasmax.”

  Carmen continued to surprise herself. When she spoke those words, there was nothing but pride in her tone. She spoke her father's name to match the macho bravado that was being flung around the room. His name filled her with an acceptance of her ultimate position, like she belonged there, with those men and women of power. When her eyes flashed red with the energy of the star inside of her, everyone stepped back.

  “Is this true?” Dominus Mastodon asked, the question sputtering from his mouth.

  “It is,” Maksim said. Then, as he touched the scar on his cheek, he added, “Her power is immense.”

  The Dominus stepped backward, stumbling to his throne, but once he found his seat, his giant hands clenched the ends of the bone arm rests.

  “And you brought her here? Why? To threaten me? To show off your new found weapon?”

  “I brought her here to show you that the Zharkovs still sit upon the throne of the world. I brought her here to assure you that there will be only one winner in this war, and it will be Imperator Padamir and the Zharkovian Empire. You would be wise to choose the correct ally in this war.”

  Dominus Mastodon's trunk twitched back and forth, no longer swaying with a calm demeanor. His stare bore into Maksim, but the man was unwavering. His chest actually grew bigger, lifting his Guardian chest plate in a show of pride. The Dominus broke away from the stare first, and glanced at the Domina.

  “Please show our guests to their room. I have... much to contemplate.”

  The Domina smiled and sauntered over to Carmen, taking her hand and leading her out of the throne room. Maksim and Zana followed behind. They were led up many flights of stairs, through the sounds and smells of the animal kingdom, until they reached the top of one of the four towers. There, they found their guest room, and while she wasn't surprised when she saw the interior, it definitely wasn't what she expected.

  Their bed consisted of a pile of furs, but no pillows. A wooden plate of meat, both cooked and raw, sat on the floor next to the furs. A fire raged in the center of the room, making the walls sweat with humidity. Other than that, the room was empty. The Domina told them to shout for a guard if they required anything, then showed Zana to her room down the hall.

  When the door closed and Carmen was alone with Maksim,
she finally asked the question that had been bothering her since the Dominus brought it up.

  “Why did you bring me here?”

  Maksim was inspecting the meats, picking out one of the larger, cooked pieces, but stopped and looked back at her with confusion. “What do you mean?”

  Carmen approached him and sat down on the bed of furs, wiping the sweat that was already growing on her forehead. “Your mother asked you to bring me.”

  Maksim weighed the truthfulness of the statement before replying, “I would have brought you, even if she hadn't asked me to.”

  “Why?”

  Maksim looked startled by her confusion, and answered, “You are my wife.”

  “But that's not why Magda wanted me here.”

  Maksim looked down at the meat in his hand and bit into it, tearing a mouthful from the bone. Carmen, knowing he was stalling, grabbed the meat from him and tossed it back on the plate.

  “Did she want me here to threaten the Therians?”

  Maksim stared at the floor with a look of both shame and thoughtfulness. “It does not matter. That is not the reason why I wanted you here.”

  “Right. You wanted me here because I'm your wife. Great.”

  Carmen stood up and walked to the window, staring out over the great plains that surrounded the castle. The sun was falling behind the horizon, causing a vast swath of oranges to paint the distant sky. She wondered what color the sky was the day her father was killed. The day his star died.

  “I wanted you here because you don't expect anything from me,” Maksim said from behind her. “My family, my Empire, all want something from me. They all expect me to follow the rules I have been taught to follow. They all expect me to be the person I was born to be, the person I was raised to be.”

  She turned and looked at him sitting on the floor next to the pile of furs. Even in his Guardian armor and cloak, he looked smaller than he ever had. Like a child. Like someone who could get hurt. His eyes looked up at her with a sadness she had never seen in him.