"Say that again, because I don't think I heard you right."

Tom didn't flinch under Mason's sidelong glare. Most men would have, but Major Tom seemed to lack the capacity for fear - or any emotion, really. He took pride in his army and satisfaction in winning battles and gaining new skills in his Army Commander class, but all other emotions slid off of him like oil on a hot pan. Even his trips to the harem were more functional than enjoyable. He sometimes wondered what normal people felt, what it was like to experience things like they did. The thoughts never sat long in his mind, though - they felt unnecessarily messy. As for Mason - it wasn't like Tom was unaware of the danger the man held, he knew his life could be snuffed out by him in an instant. Even that, though, was just a fact to be filed away and promptly ignored when it wasn't relevant. Everyone was going to die at some point and the reality of it was just… boring. He knew that this is part of what made him so important to Mason. Yes, he led the army and was valuable for that, but mostly Mason seemed to enjoy trying to strike fear in the lean man. Mason loved being in control and loved the power he had over others, but even he got bored - and when Mason got bored blood started flowing. It was part of Tom's job to keep that attention focused away from his men.

"Sir, I said that the men need a rest. They have been performing admirably for weeks now and have truly become a cohesive unit. They have gained tactical skills that benefit an army of your caliber, and losses have fallen to a minimum. But they are tired. They've been fighting daily for weeks now and, even with the rotations I have put in place, they have begun to make mistakes."

"So whip their asses in line! I won't have my army making mistakes!"

Tom took a deep, but subtle, breath. It would not do any good to let Mason see his frustration. He knew the best route forward was flattery. "Sir, your army wants to prove their worth to you - and they're doing it. They are growing every day, but any losses we incur weakens your power. Your might has led them this far, I believe it's time for something more."

"And what would that be?"

"I think it's time for you to inspire them."

"Inspire them?" Mason shouted. "I inspire them every damned day just by being here! I've grown four levels because of this Challenge, isn't that enough?"

Tom took a moment to collect his thoughts. How could he make Mason see that growing stronger off of their hard work wasn't inspiring? That it bred resentment? If he said it, Mason would be out there crushing skulls, literally, until no one dared object. "Sir," he said after a moment, "your might and growth is truly inspiring. The men talk about it often and are proud to be led by you." He grinned internally at the smile on Mason's face. Idiot. "But the truth is, they're growing, you're growing, I'm growing - but your Lieutenants aren't. They're sitting back and letting the troops do all the hard work. It's not a good look."

Mason's face clouded over with anger. "Those are my elite squad and they serve me. ME. They're not here to help the lazy fucktards feel better about being in the army. I won't have them risking their lives for the assholes out there. Their job is to protect me."

This next part would be tricky. Tom knew he was about to tread dangerous ground, but it was the only way he was going to get his men the rest they needed. "Sir, you are the strongest person here by far. Your strength and might is something that the troops look up to. It drives them and makes them want to work harder. Fight harder."

"I know that," Mason said with a huff.

I think I may be about to die, Tom thought but pushed on. "Do you really need their protection? Do you want to be seen as someone who needs it?"

Mason was out of his chair in a quick movement, fist flashing towards Tom in a strike that the General knew would take his head off. He didn't flinch.

At the last moment Mason pulled his punch, the ham-sized fist almost touching Tom's face. Mason kept his fist in place, moving his head closer, searching Tom's eyes. Tom met them without blinking.

Mason's voice was low, dangerous. "And what do you think, General?"

He didn't dare pause in his response. "You, sir, are the strongest person this world has to offer. You've never needed protection. I don't think your Lieutenants and the Enchantresses protect you, I think they live under the umbrella of your protection. They suckle off the teat of your power, living the high life under your protection. I think that if you truly wanted to show your power you'd send them out into the field. Not only would it show that they are a force to be reckoned with, it'd prove that you, more than anyone, don't need protection from anyone. You are the alpha, sir - I think it's good to remind the men of that every once in a while."

Mason didn't move his face, but his fist slowly dropped to his side. "I'm more than happy to show it to anyone that doubts it," he said.

Tom nodded and took a tentative step backwards. He may not feel fear like other people did, but he wasn't comfortable with people invading his personal space like this. Mason took the gesture as one of obedience and smiled triumphantly, standing upright again. Tom looked up at him to meet his gaze again.

Stolen novel; please report.

"Your lessons are memorable, sir, no one has forgotten them. They don't need to see it from you, they need to see it from them." He nodded towards the back yard where the Lieutenants were lounging by the pool, playing grab-ass with the laughing enchantresses.

Mason followed his gaze and his eyes narrowed, seeing what Tom was referring to. He let out a dramatic sigh. "Maybe you're right, man, maybe you're right. I think I've been a little soft on those assholes. They're my gang and they deserve to be treated like it, but I suppose it wouldn't hurt them to get off their lazy asses and prove their worth. Can't have my elite squad looking like a bunch of pussies in front of a bunch of other pussies." He walked back to his chair and slumped into it. "So then what should we do?"

Tom let out a relieved breath. He may not be scared of dying, but he was glad it wasn't happening today. "Our Tacticians believe that something big is coming in the next few days. They think that this has all been leading up to a major battle with higher-powered creatures. The men are ready and willing to fight, but I think it'd be a wise tactical decision to have the Lieutenants fight whatever is coming next. It'll not only test their capabilities, it'd be a good morale boost if we can show that we have high-powered individuals that can take these creatures on."

"Hmmm… I think I like that plan. If nothing else it'll be a pretty badass show! Let's do it!" He turned his head and bellowed through the open door. "Blake! Get your ass in here!"

Outside, his first lieutenant finished his beer, then slowly climbed out of the lawn chair and made his way inside. By the time he got there angry purple splotches had appeared on Mason's cheeks.

"Yeah?" Blake said. His eyes had that glassy look to them that Tom had come to associate with Mason's increasing control over their psyches.

"Yeah? That's it? You sure took your sweet-ass time getting in here."

Blake stared at him blankly, not responding. Mason's movements became agitated.

"You and the Lieutenants have been sitting on your asses too much and it makes you look like shit."

"What?" Blake's expression was lost.

Mason ran his hand down his beard with furtive motions. He was quick to dole out punishment to anyone who irritated him, but his Lieutenants always got a free pass. "I said," he said through gritted teeth, "that you lazy bastards have been fucking off and it's making me look bad. I will not have my Lieutenants making me look like an asshole!" His raised voice was turning heads from outside. Mason noticed and raised his voice to reach them all.

"You fucking assholes have been sitting around, drinking my beer, fucking, and just generally fucking off while my army is out there fighting! Well this shit stops now! Blake!" He yelled.

"Yes sir?" Blake's back was rigid and fear chased some of the vacancy out of his eyes.

"You, the other Lieutenants, and your bitches are going to get out on the front line and start earning your keep!"

"Our keep?"

This was too much for Mason, even for his Lieutenants. He was out of his chair again, vaulting over the back, rushing to Blake with a speed too fast for him to react. His fist landed on Blake's chest and the man was sent flying out of the double French doors, his body bouncing across the patio, across the frozen pool, sliding to a stop in the snow-covered grass. Mason stomped out after him.

"Listen up, fuckwads! I'm tired of this shit! You all are getting out there, TODAY, to fight, and if I hear one more word about it someone is going to lose a head. Got it??"

He jerked his head around, meeting each of their eyes, watching them lower them with satisfaction. "Good. General Tom is going to be directing you. Until I say otherwise you assholes report to him. And don't you fucking dare let me hear him say that you didn't put on one hell of a show. I want you to do shit that legends are made of, you fucking got that you useless bags of shit?"

Without waiting for a reply he stomped back into the house. "I'm going to the harem to blow off some steam. Do whatever the fuck you want with them."

Tom nodded as Mason walked past. Mason stopped, not turning back. "And Tom?"

"Yes sir?" he said to the man's back.

"If they die, I'm taking it out of your ass, you got that?"

"Understood, sir."

Mason nodded then stomped his way out of the room.

That man walks like he's angry at the ground, Tom thought as Mason exited.

An hour later General Tom was standing in the front courtyard, his squads arrayed in front of him in neat squares. They stretched out into the distance- the houses, fences, and roads in front of Mason's mansion had been cleared to make room. Commanding Order carried his voice across the entire army.

"Aaaattentiooon!" He snapped and 500 boots stamped the ground in unison. Tom smiled - that was a sound that filled him with rare pleasure. "You've all been working hard, and Mason has noticed!" Cheers rang out through the ranks and Tom allowed it. "Because of your successes and the advancements you've made Mason has allowed you to rest for the next two days." Louder cheers this time and Tom let it continue for only a second before slashing his hand through the air, bringing them to an immediate stop.

"You will still be in the field, but you won't be fighting unless something breaks through." If anyone had any opinions about that they wisely kept it to themselves. "Instead, he has approved his Lieutenants and the Enchantresses to fight the battles for the next two days as a show of force."

Confused murmurs met his ears as all eyes turned to the motley collection of people milling at the front of the courtyard. The differences were stark to Tom's eyes. His army had become a well-honed fighting machine, each able to act perfectly as a unit. The Lieutenants and Enchantresses looked like civilians compared to them - and perhaps they were. Everyone in this world had to fight, Tom reflected, but this group had been getting away with doing the bare minimum, and it showed. They were strong, there was no doubt about that, but only strong individually. The troops had seen them fighting occasionally, their motorcycles roaring out into the battlefield to perform rescue operations or to have fun, but there was no cohesion - no discipline. They fought exactly like what they were - tough guys and gals who weren't used to taking orders.

Tom had his work cut out for him if he was going to keep them alive. He just hoped that the fear of Mason's reprisal would make them follow his orders.

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