"Let's put that pride to better use," Linsley muttered, waving a hand to materialize a soul contract in the air.
It glowed with ominous purple light, the script curling like tendrils as it locked onto the Overlord, who, in his helpless state, could do nothing but sign his allegiance to Linsley and the Sinclair Order.
The contract flared, and in that moment, the Overlord's will was utterly bound, the smug superiority wiped from his face, replaced by forced obedience.
Linsley lowered his rifle, surveying his latest acquisition with satisfaction. "You'll serve the Order, and in doing so, perhaps you'll find redemption for your arrogance. I have plans for you."
The Overlord bowed deeply, his former arrogance replaced with a submissive obedience. "Yes, Master. I will see to it that everything is handled as you've commanded."
Linsley observed him for a moment, then held out a glass-like amethyst, the surface shimmering with faint flux.
