Gasping for breath and wheezing like old men, Al and Jordan stepped off the bike after finally reaching the base of the resistance in the slums. His legs were shaking so badly that he had to hold them and hope that they wouldn't promptly deposit him on the ground, and beside him, he heard a low 'thud' as the big man collapsed on the wall and drew in great gulps of air.
Somehow, Jessica was completely unwinded. It wasn't like she hadn't done her part, either; she had been cycling as fast as them, but it seemed that her endurance was much higher than theirs.
Frowning, she got off the cycle, too, and impatiently waited for Al to catch his breath. He could feel Jordan's eyes piercing into his back, too, and he knew the reason behind their weighty gazes: they wanted to know what had happened.
Staggering forward, he snatched up the water bottle that had really come in handy on their way over. Draining the last of the liquid in it, he scrunched it up and threw it to the side before launching into an explanation of the events that had just unfolded near the residence of the governor.
When he was done, the brother and sister were both scowling, clearly feeling the same frustration that had surged through him when he had seen that they had sent the wrong hero out of the odyssey. It hadn't been easy to come up with that plan; it had required hours of painstaking work to pinpoint that exact moment of vulnerability that could be exploited, and now, with their capabilities no longer secret, they knew that the heroes would be much more cautious about any step they might take in the future.
"Well… back to the drawing board. At least we got a hero! Like my uncle always says, look on the bright side!"
Al's voice sounded fake even in his own ears. Still, he trudged his way to the door and to the waiting soldiers outside, before shouldering his way through them to the comfortable seat in the planning room where the other chairs were empty.
They soon became filled by the five who had been waiting outside the garage of the resistance for him to speak. He had rudely passed them on the way, but after seeing how much he was still panting, they gave him the benefit of the doubt and waited for him to give them an update.
Over the course of the last day, Al had seen that all of the other members of the odyssey had been brainwashed in such a way that any mention of the divine tools would slide off of them, as if it was a topic that could simply not be comprehended by their minds. The same applied to anything they saw that was related to these items, too, and hence, he didn't need to worry about explaining how he was in the possession of magical objects that should have blown the mind of anyone who saw them before the descent of the gods.
"We were partially successful. Of the three main guards of the governor, one of them has died, but their leader remains."
A flurry of conversation broke out after his announcement. It was nothing he hadn't heard before, though; since the beginning, none of the five had really liked his idea of targeting the guards as it was beyond them to understand that they were heroes, who could crush each and every one in the room with just as much effort as was needed for them to draw a single breath.
The good thing was that his words still held weight among them, even though it seemed that with each day, the desire to rebel was growing stronger and stronger in each and every one of them. He hadn't really been minding it as all he needed to do was kill the governor and leave, but now, he wondered whether it would turn out to be a thorn in his side if the odyssey went on for longer than he had anticipated.
He didn't have the energy to think about it at the moment, though. So, dismissing them and ignoring the looks that he got from each of their displeased eyes, he waited for the assistants to arrive, which they did a minute after the departure of the commanders.
"They really didn't look happy… do we need to do something about it?"
Jessica entered and spoke while closing the door. With a sigh, Al replied, "You try telling them that we sacrificed so many resources of the resistance to take out just a guard of the governor. To them, I look like a fool who might have a grudge against those three. Well, it can't be helped…"
The two took their seats in front of him, and while Al kept his face in his hands and gazed at the table that was strewn with reports of the movements of people in the city and all the ways in which the governor might retaliate, he noticed Jordan drumming his meaty fingers on the table without a hint of rhythm.
"Spit it out."
The man had a habit of acting in this manner whenever he had something on his mind. Clearing his throat and looking up to meet Al's eyes with a faint hint of annoyance as he didn't seem to like being read like a book, he asked, "We're villains, right? Why aren't we acting like it, then? Why not… I dunno, target the families of those employed by the governor? Or kill a few innocent protesters and make it seem as if the governor was the one doing it? Wouldn't we increase the chances of getting to our goal? We've only been assistants to villains a couple of times before…but in all of those odysseys, the ones in charge didn't hesitate from being as cruel as needed, sometimes even going out of their way to do things like torturing children as if it was expected of them. I just thought I would ask, because you are different… so, why not do everything that we can?"
Feeling Jessica's eyes on him, Al realized that she had the same question on her mind. He held Jordan's gaze for a few moments, his face blank of all emotions, and then, he got up and went to the wall, mind filled with the memories of that moment when he had asked the same question to himself.
He sorted through them, wondering whether giving the answer here and now would be wise. After all, he was aware of the fact that it was an odyssey being recorded that would be broadcasted all over the world… but the option of not answering just didn't sit well with him. After thinking on it further, he slowly realized that it was a moment that he might regret later if he didn't use properly… so, putting aside all inhibitions, he spoke.
"Villains. Throughout history, this word has been used to refer to the vilest scum of the earth, adept in inflicting all kinds of pain and devastation that made them famous, hated, and feared. But…many forget that villains are also those who go up against an establishment, or something well supported, to fight for what they believe in and emerge on the other side with the contentment of having stood by their beliefs. Mandela was a villain to many in his country. Gandhi was a villain to the British government. Martin Luther King Jr was a villain to all those that believed that skin color dictated things it had no relation to. To answer your question… not all villains need to be champions of pain or abusers of the weaknesses of humanity. I choose to be the kind of villain who fights for an objective without taking advantage of the vulnerabilities of mankind. I choose to be the kind of a villain who sticks to a set of ideals, and strives to win using his own capabilities. I choose to be the kind of villain who can be admired just as much as the heroes on the other side…and I wish to become the kind of villain who will strike fear into the hearts of all those heroes who act just, but are fake to their very core, using the mantle of that name to take advantage of this world. This is who I am…and this is who I shall always be."