Villian's Redemption
Most folks join the military to serve their homeland, defend freedom, or chase after glory and honor. Not Malakar. He joined for two simple reasons: money and women.
Sergeant Rock had filled his head with promises: knighthood after the war, the adoration of the masses, men envying him, women flocking to him, and even an estate from the Emperor himself. Sounded like a good deal, right? Turns out, it was complete and utter horseshit.
The battlefield didn’t smell like glory—it stank of blood, piss, and rotting corpses. Honor? A joke. What greeted him at every corner was death, endless and indiscriminate. But Malakar was nothing if not a man of his word. Sergeant Rock drilled that into him, right between the sword thrusts and the screaming. So, Malakar endured. He followed orders, slaughtered pig-bloods, butchered witches, and carved up state soldiers—all in the vain hope that Rock’s promises would pan out.
Spoiler: they didn’t.
Zermania lost the war, the Emperor got himself shish-kebabbed by the Sentinel, and Malakar—the so-called “hero”—was branded an enemy of humanity. Hunted down like a rabid dog, he eventually got himself killed.
But death, as it turns out, is more of a suggestion than a rule. Fast forward 500 years, and Malakar’s soul has found a new meat suit. He’s alive, some what free, and determined to be a better man.
Easier said than done when all you’ve ever known is war and murder. A little slip-up here, a minor incident there… like accidentally catching the eye of the world’s strongest superhero’s daughter or, oops, killing the heir to the most powerful family in existence.
Malakar’s trying, really. But being a better man? Let’s just say it’s a work in progress.
