Statesman

“Statesman”

A thousand men in unison expressed displeasure at the mere mention of that name. Standing poised on the eve of attack, Lord Recluse addressed his troops, his voice dripping with venomous intent.

“Today shall be a great victory for us, my followers, a true blow towards all he stands for. Too long have we hidden, fighting from shadows and meeting nothing but defeat at the hands of the Freedom Phalanx. From the webs, we shall strike, our hatred like a boiling venom penetrating the fibers of their core, and destroying them from within like a vengeful necrosis!”

A cheer, shaking the walls of the stronghold arose. The battle these men had been preparing for was at hand, their decade long training, finally bearing fruit. Recluse continued.

“He hides behind the banner of strength and power, yet surrounds himself with weaklings. And why? Because HE is weak! His strength is failing, brothers, and now is the time to strike! The illusion of might that he weaves is unraveling as people see that no longer is he their strongest hero. Look at the so-called Phalanx! Why would one so strong surround himself with such weak allies? To hide his own weakness! But today we shall expose this farce, and hold the broken form of Statesman high for all to see. And then, my loyal followers, the city will truly be ours!”

Lord Recluse had carefully cultivated the hatred within those who served him. The toxins bore within their bodies had reached potency, and soon, the city would be flooded with nerve toxins, crippling the bodies of every citizen within.

“Like the Midnight Squad before them, the Phalanx shall fall beneath our heels. Already, hundreds of our allies stand poised to strike, pawns to the slaughter, but useful nonetheless. They shall provide the necessary distraction to allow our agents to move in. I shall personally challenge the Statesman once city hall is within our grasp. Without his presence on the field, the rest of the heroes shall fall like autumn leaves.”

Once more the base erupted into resounding cheers. Lord Recluse listened to the revelry for a moment, before raising a hand, silencing the crowd in an instant.

“I have much to attend to. Prepare yourselves for the coming battle. Victory to Aracnos!”

With that Recluse turned, and stepped into the shadows, as chants of “Victory for Aracnos” echo behind him. Dark thoughts flooded his mind, weaving an intricate web of satisfaction, as each part of his plan seemed to fall into place one by one. For a decade he’d waited, watched, striking in precise and hidden ways. Soon, everything he’d worked for would be at hand. The time and resources spent would reach its glorious apex, and his hated enemy Statesman would finally fall by his own hand. The decades long fight would be at an end. Even now his biological weapons, soldiers altered through a decade of slow poisoning were taking position. Today would be the final run for these loyal followers and unknowing martyrs for the cause. Already, the final dose of poison was slowly transforming the blood inside each one into a deadly nerve toxin. In one hour’s time, they would die as the pressure of the gas within split their skins, releasing a cloud of deadly gas into the air around the city. Beneath his helmet, a smile crept across his lips.

“There is nothing he can do now but watch helplessly as his allies-his city- die before his eyes.”

The cadre of his generals was already assembled when he arrived.

“ Have you found him, Ghost Widow?”

“Yes, my lord. He is currently travelling west, over the Atlantic. Estimated arrival time is Thirty-four minutes.”

“Excellent. See that everything is prepared for his arrival. I shall be making last minute preparations of my own.”

The dark schemer retired to his private quarters, thousands of thoughts racing through his mind.

At last, I shall once and for all destroy the accursed Statesman. Too long have he and I clashed, too often has he spoiled my plans. But for every plan he’s defeated, a little more was added to the grand weave. Each defeat, a silent victory, each resource lost only serving to further the cause. How easily the heroes fell into place, giving me everything I need to devour this city in one venomous bite. All handed to me by Statesman on a silver platter. His greatest folly shall be my final victory. His age of glory is at an end. Tonight, the city belongs to Recluse.