The heroine was fighting her way through the upper levels of Vito’s tower. She struggled, she bled, she called out her fallen companions’ names as she charged into the evil hordes, over and over again. Vito watched as the blood of his slain minions turned the white marble red and slippery.
The heroine pushed on. Further up, up, past the traps Vito had set for her, and everyone who made it this far before her. Skilfully, she evaded the poisonous arrows, dodged the falling rocks, and jumped over crumbling floors. An athletic one she was, he mused, while sipping his afternoon tea. Cherry blossom, Vito had been told. Tasted like hot water to him. Maybe he hadn’t left it to brew long enough?
The heroine was always at his door, and Vito sighed. He straightened his robes and handed the cup of disappointing tea to a nearby minion. With a snap of his fingers, the lights that had given the room a warm glow so far turned off, in favour of an assortment of flickering candles.
“What separates a villain from a supervillain?” Vito whispered to himself, quoting a piece of long-forgotten piece of art. “Presentation”, he answered his own question and pulled out a mirror from a hidden pocket of his heavy robe. Maybe he should freshen up his eyeliner a bit. Might make him look more dramatic. Although overdoing it may have the opposite effect. Vito winced as he remembered that one hero who had started laughing the second he had laid eyes upon Vito. Unbelievable rudeness.
No eyeliner, Vito decided. The heroine seemed to wear some leftover smudges of makeup herself, she’d likely pick up on things like that. Vito dropped the mirror back into the pocket and handwaved his minions away. The ones on the rooms below him were cannon fodder. Useless, unintelligent, barely more than animals. Expandable. But the ones on top of the tower were a little bit smarter and better trained. He didn’t want to re-train new ones whenever a new hero or heroine (or sometimes even a would-be villain) turned up and slaughtered everything in sight.
It had happened too many times at this point.
Finally, the doors swung open and the heroine stepped in, sword raised, ready to attack. Her breath was laboured, irregular. Blood had partially dried in her short hair. Her armour showed scratches and tears that told a story of several close encounters with the claws of Vito’s lower-level monsters. Nasty beasts, he had to admit. But cheap to acquire, and thus an excellent choice for areas that had regular heroes passing through.
“You”, the heroine called out, pointing her sword at Vito. “Get off your throne and face me! Receive judgement for all the things you did to my country!”
“Which country would that be?” Vito inquired. “I’m not sure I can place you anywhere, ethnicity-wise. There has been so much movement lately, so many border conflicts. A lot changed in the last few hundred years, I lost track. So please, child, tell me: Which things did I do, and to what country?”
The heroine was visibly shaken and confused.
“M … my country. The one you have conquered fifty years ago to enslave its population and drain it of its resources.”
“I’m sorry, you will have to be a little bit more specific still.”
Anger flashed across the heroine’s face.
“Yagzuria!”
“Yagzuria …. Yagzuria …” Vito furrowed his brow, trying to remember. “What is your country famous for?”
“Being enslaved by you!”
Vito sighed. “Before that. You must have had something going on for you, or I wouldn’t have bothered enslaving your grandparents.”
“You murdered my grandparents!”
“Well, with the current age expectancy they would’ve been dead by now anyway, so that is irrelevant now, isn’t it? And look, you’re alive, so your parents must have made it. You even look rather healthy, so your life can’t have been that awful. Fighting monsters isn’t easy to do when you’re malnourished.”
“My friends and I were trained in secret and received more food rations to build our strength, so we could free our people from your influence!”
“Looks like your friends needed more training than they ended up receiving. Most of them died relatively early on your quest if I’ve seen that correctly.”
“You … you watched us?” The heroine turned white as a sheet. A blood-stained, slightly dirty and sweaty sheet. Vito decided that this comparison didn’t work well outside of books.
“Of course I did. What else is there to do all day long?”
“I … you …” The heroine stared at him. “Do … do you just sit up here all day? On top of your tower? And wait for heroes to try and defeat you?”
“Pretty much, yes. How else can I be here the moment someone makes it up the tower? Imagine how disappointed you’d be if you had arrived here and the room had been empty! All this, for nothing?”
“Then what’s the point?” The heroine asked. Vito noted that she had lowered her sword. Probably because her arms were tired, not because she considered him less of a threat. “Why are you doing all of this”, she asked, “if you’re just sitting here all day, doing nothing? Why cause so much suffering?”
“What else am I supposed to do?” Vito asked back. “I have the ultimate power. I’m the next best thing to a god. And, I have to admit, the first few years it was fun. Flying around, having sex with anyone I wanted, eating the best food, drinking the best drinks, just basking in my power. Wonderful! But eventually, it gets dull. After a decade or so, I grew bored. Turns out striving to achieve ultimate power is a lot more interesting and fun than actually having it. What is there to strive for now? There is nothing beyond what I already have. It’s so unbelievably boring. But I also can’t just go back to the life I had before, I have unlimited power now! People either fear me or want my secrets. Do you have any idea how annoying that is?”
The heroine stared at him, wide-eyed, not saying a word.
“So, my only option was to withdraw into this tower”, Vito continued. “Stock up on minions to keep the annoyances outside. Occasionally deal with someone who made it through. Put on a show. But in between? I’m just sitting here, waiting. Improving my defences. But not too much! Nobody would ever come up to the top of the defence was too perfect, you know? Oh, and sometimes some country develops something I haven’t seen yet. Of course, they are not going to just give it to me. At this point, I am the ultimate evil, nobody is willing to trade with me! So I have to invade to check out this awesome new thing. But then I am stuck with ruling this new country, and it’s just more of the same every time. The boredom is killing me.”
“You are … bored?” The heroine spat out. “You invaded my country because you were BORED?”
“Again, I don’t even remember invading your country. But if you say I’m the one currently ruling it, I will assume that is true. I likely picked up whatever I wanted 50 years ago and then left it to one of my vassals. Very useful, those. Train them right and they will rule a country for you for a few decades before they try to overthrow you.”
“You are a monster”, the heroine said, raising her sword again.
Vito sighed. “I had hoped for something more inspiring. You made it so far! Are you not going to at least give me a speech? Something heroic? A teary-eyed monologue about how I will forever burn in hell? No?”
The heroine, instead of answering, screamed and ran towards Vito.
Then she stumbled.
And fell.
And stayed down.
“You didn’t dodge all the poisonous arrows”, Vito said. “One of you nicked your leg where your armour was damaged. The poison took a while to work. Rookie mistake, really. Pretty sure one of your potions could’ve saved you, had you taken it fast enough. Shame.”
Vito motioned one of his hidden minions to take the dead heroine away.
The clean-up team was going to have a rough week.
