Chapter 1 in this series explained how Robowhale joined the MML as coach of the Hades’ Angels.
For the first time in a long time Robowhale felt safe. Not safe like you and I think of it where there are no known threats to your well-being and you know where your loved ones are and that they are well. No, this was a more fundamental sense of safety hinged on his ability to stay sane; to trust his perception of reality.
The cell was spanning no more than maybe 1.8 square meters meaning Robowhale could not stretch his legs when lying down and his shoulders were scraping the cold, damp rock walls. His back was aching from having been confined to this contorted position for days, but he welcomed the pain as he welcomed the taste of blood from the caked wounds on his head and arms. All of it felt like welcome reminders of this life anchoring him to the real world shared by You and I. So when Krike Beastmaster, the team captain of the Crookback Roughnecks had chained him to a wall and bloodied him with repeated beatings before locking him up, Robowhale had not hidden from the abuse. On the contrary, he had egged Beastmaster on with his laughter and defiant attitude each blow cementing his place in this world.
Thinking back, his entire tenure with the Hades’ Angels had been one, long slide away from reality and into a grotesque theatre play in which he didn’t know who was the writer, director and which role he was playing. Things had culminated in the MML Challenge League season 7 game vs the Royal Rat Auothority, where he had lost complete control of his players. Having worked tirelessly to install discipline and basic tactical ability in his players despite their beastly nature, it had all fallen apart after the RRA killed his star beast. Robowhale had been looking on in disbelief, when even the chaos warrior and team captain Michael gave in to bloodlust and were blitzing every rat in sight. It’d been immediately clear that the Angels were not out for revenge of their fallen comrade. On the contrary, it was as if they had celebrated his death, and his red blood on the astrogranite had spurred them on to spill more!
As Michael had made his way into the stands, killing and maiming randomly, and the rest of his players had entirely forgotten about the game and were gang fouling hapless rats, Robowhale had become aware of the strange aura that surrounded his personal assistant Bannon Thruthbane. An eerie blue light was radiating from Bannon and it was as if he was somehow egging on the Angels with his maniacal laughter and disturbing presence. Having previously instructed Thruthbane to keep away from the sidelines, Robowhale charged him filled with anger and feelings of betrayal. As he strode towards the strange figure something peculiar happened: For each step he took it appeated as if Thruthbane grew taller and the blueish light emanating from him darker and took on menacing purple tones. Finally Robowhale had realized that demonic forces were at play, but by then it was too late… (to be continued)