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Chapter 101 - Expectation's Least

-Inside foreign Legion, Encur-

"...If we strike during their bout we could gain their trust and cause fault to the Light Legion's men. This is a war for us to lose, Silssy, we're in this now," a Zegus' voice thundered.

Silsa, a Yonie, laid down on a comfortable bed. He innocently hugged his pillow, hiding away his chin and mouth while allowing his two big pink eyes to poke out.

"Buuuut what if we loooose! That isn't fuuun!" Silsa's soft voice responded.

His advisor lowered his head. "Yes, Silssy, but perhaps this is our opportunity. I beg you to allow my riders flight and mobilize my elites."

"No!" He sharply responded, crossing his arms during the process. "I will fight! You all stay saaaafeee!"

The Zegus curiously looked at Silsa. "With what equipment?"

Silsa gripped an imaginary sword with his right hand while holding up a shield on his left. An imaginary set of armor clipped into place as its owner prepared for battle.

But to the Zegus, it looked like Silsa was standing still. Emulating the sounds and movements of warriors putting on their armor before going to battle.

But he knew better than to challenge his idea. Because this Yonie was one of the most lethal Variants ever made, if he wanted to at least.

"I will fight! My sword will go swish, swash, hack! Chop, chop! And they will bow to my greatness and adorable face!" Silsa smiled, revealing a perfect row of teeth.

"Tinnie," Silsa looked up at the Zegus. "How do I ride a Sky Beast?"

His advisor, Tinzor, sighed. "Thought you were a fabled warrior that fought during the 'Epic Battle of Young Yonie's Pillow Wars.' How did you do it without mounting a beast?"

Silsa brought a finger up to his chin, then blankly stared at Tinzor's face. "...But I did fight..." he murmured.

"Silssy, this is your opportunity to lead all of your elites to war and show the world just how powerful your... adorable smile, gorgeous hair, and sweet scent is," Tinzor tried to persuade Silsa.

The Yonie heard the several compliments and instantly brightened up. His smile came back and a new idea for a party appeared in his mind.

Silsa smiled uncontrollably, then sat down on an imaginary chair. Watching the imaginary party take place while everyone, including Tinzor was dancing and enjoying themselves.

And that was what his advisor saw.

He was suddenly laughing and dancing with other elites and warriors inside his leader's bedroom. Although, he was alone. But the interactions felt real. His conversations with people that weren't there actually felt alive.

"Party! Party! Party! Light Legion suuuucks! We will party with our new friends and fiiiiiight evil bad guys and be heroes together!" Silsa chanted.

His hands came together with every word, expressing pure joy as his advisor danced to the non-existent music.

Silsa stopped imagining the party, which caused Tinzor to abruptly stop dancing. The two awkwardly stared at one another.

Tinzor had a frightened expression on his face while Silsa seemed overjoyed. His eyes sparkled like gems under light while his smile effortlessly cut through Tinzor's frightened heart.

Which was successful. He suddenly felt better, and it wasn't because Silsa imagined it. But because his smile was enough to make anyone else smile.

"So what is your final verdict?" Tinzor asked with a smile.

"Fight! Fight! Fight! I will fight!" Silsa said while bopping his head up and down. "And we will win!"

Now pleased with the result, Tinzor nodded and turned to walk away. But Silsa loudly groaned, trying to catch is attention.

"Yes, Silssy?" He asked.

Silsa puffed up his cheeks and crossed his arms. Tinzor knew what it meant. The little Yonie loved getting his cheeks rubbed, for no reason other than because it was a Yonie thing to receive.

Tinzor slowly made his way over to his leader, then got on one knee. His hands gently held the soft pinkish cheeks of his leader, then began to rub them.

"Have a good day, Silssy," Tinzor tried his best to sound soft and gentle.

Which was a failed attempt, one that Silsa appreciated. He liked seeing other Variants struggle to comprehend what was going on with him.

Even when they try to befriend the seemingly innocent and loving Yonie, he still sees their failed attempts as something to love.

He waved his loyal advisor away. Leaving him alone in his room once more. Everything faded into silence as he lovingly looked around the room.

"Noda, noda! Yavik, yavik!" He turned to face his left. "Sanikao, sutaro shilo. Siar yitiri!"

Silsa leapt up in to someone's arms, getting caught midair before hitting the ground. He was gently hugged and loved by his imaginary Yomie.

No one could see her, she was all in his mind. But that was enough to make her real. He loved her, and she loved him.

In his eyes, she was a Thresher skating the line between Yonie and Yomie. She displayed various traits he felt attracted to in the males while also holding onto features he adored from the females.

Making the perfect imaginary mate for him.

But away from his sight, away from his imagination. Something sat in the corner of the room. Silent and observing.

[Little, little Yonie. Innocent and shy, are you sure YOU want to lead your men into battle? Skin so soft to the touch, one could fall asleep right on you. Yet one rough branch is enough to draw blood.]

An entity thought to itself. It paced the room, studying everything about it.

The entity walked over to a small metal desk tucked away in the corner of the room. Its metallic grey seemed almost perfect to touch, but that wasn't what it wanted.

It ran its armored hand through the inside of the desk. Leaving small specs of dust behind in its wake.

[But who knew you, of all Variants, would become one of the strongest to ever live? How... disastrous would it be if you came under the control of being who seeks its own free will?]

The entity opened its palm, revealing a net full of memories and thoughts. Every little mental detail of their host all stacked in a neat pile ready to be moved, erased, or modified.

Its mind directed a small section of a memory to transition over to Silsa's mind. Which caused him to stop imagining and fall to the ground.

His eyes widened as he looked around to see where he was, only to jump back frightened at a beast he had never seen before.

[You're adorable, Silsa, gorgeous. A marvel within a Legion, a hidden powerhouse amongst brutes. But are you skilled enough to stand against those you have a bitter taste for while also giving your belly to your enemies?]

The entity walked closer to Silsa. Each footstep was silent as its tore armor carelessly twirled like dust in the wind.

It placed one hand under his chin.

[If you prove it to me, I will reward you handsomely. For not just fighting back, but also proving yourself worthy to the new world. One without creations and higher ups... you'll be free, little one.]

The being brought that same hand closer to his lips. Then it gently rubbed its index finger on Silsa's lips, leaving behind specs of dust in its wake.

It stepped back, allowing Silsa to break out of his trance and resume his abilities once again. Shortly after that, he discovered a strange taste in his mouth.

This taste felt unnatural. Like a blend between purpra fruit and blueberries, but with a sweeter twist to it. He loved that taste, so much so he looked around to find a possible cause for it.

Realizing there wasn't anything near him to cause that, he decided to imagine it. Sticking the sweet taste into his lips for a little while longer, until he got bored.

And the entity watched, silent and patient.

[Good boy, cute boy, rest. You're being pulled into a battle for which I called you for. Aid my kin and claim Imbushko. Then standby for your next instructions, I will remember you. No one will be forgotten.]

In the blink of an eye, the entity vanished. Leaving nothing but the dust he purposefully left behind. As it disappeared into the vast air, it rewired its mind to set its health as alive once again.

Making sure its masters fell for the ploy. Night has set on Koroth, they are waiting for their dawn. One where everyone has the ability to live a life of chance and risk.

Not of another being's request nor curiosity.