"My Lord, shall we return to my space station, Damocles, before making plans on our counterattack against the other three generals?" Emperor Polemos queried as they left the building.
Splat!
The Level 8 Giant Fly was suddenly splattered with a slap after it courted death with the emperor.
"I would also like to hold a party on Damocles and gather all our top executives and supporters to welcome your return. With your presence and token of authority, I'm sure many old members of the Ashura Group will flock over once the party goes live." Polemos added.
"Sounds boring," Albion commented with a nonchalant look, stunning Polemos.
"Ahem, you're hurting my pride a little here, my Lord. As I recall, you have yet to experience a party held in space, right? Why would you think it is boring before experiencing it, my Lord?"
"Well... No atmosphere."
