The Price of Peace

The following takes place following: The Warlord Peace Summit

It’s been days since the peace summit, and The Master has become a useless drunk. Stumbling around the mansion. Mumbling. Drinking anything within arm’s reach. Until one day, he’s had enough of holding it in, and barges into Travers’ office, brushing past the two guards outside.

Guard 1: Hey, wasn’t that the guy who let Reg plough his arse in public for peace?

Guard 2: Nah, that’s a fake rumour. I heard he just blew the bird.

Inside, Travers is at his desk, scribbling away in his memoirs about the summit.

He looks up just as a wine bottle smashes against the wall behind him.

Travers: What the—?

Master Devlin: You motherfucker! Do you have any idea how humiliating that was?

Devlin stumbles. Vomits a little on the floor.

Travers: Now, now, Master Devlin. Settle down. What seems to be the problem?

Master Devlin: You made me kiss that bird’s disgusting feet...

Travers: Yes. I was there. It was... shameful, to be honest. I mean, kissing office equipment feet? I nearly died of second-hand embarrassment. But whatever—it’s in the past, and you're blowing it all out of proportion. What about me? I was the one who negotiated the deal. I got us to the table. Hours of tireless negotiation—we got the girl back! What you did took a second. So quite frankly, Master Devlin—get over it.

The Master’s rage boils over. He charges at Travers and backhands him hard across the face before grabbing him by the scruff and lifts him out of his chair.

Master Devlin: Listen here, you little creep...You negotiated a shit deal! You were swindled. You let them walk all over you, and I paid the price. You claim we’re friends, yet you cornered me into an impossible choice. Yes—we got the girl back. But the cost? It humiliated me. It tainted everything I’ve worked for. Shattered everything I held dear. Now that there's peace, nobody cares that I saved her. Nobody cares that the deal was struck. All they remember is me—kissing and vomiting on a bird’s foot. That’s what they see. That’s who I am now. And now you mock me? For a choice you forced on me with your pathetic negotiating? You threw me to the wolves, Travers. I will never forgive you for that. Fuck you.

The Master drops Travers. He collapses in a heap.

Master Dick walks in.

Master Dick: No, Master Travers. He’s right. It was a disgrace—to bow down and kiss the feet of mere office equipment. I always knew you were a no-good bum, Devlin, but now you’ve disgraced the Master Order for a millennia. Now any two-bit Xerox machine or pencil sharpener will think they can take us on. It was a disaster.

Travers: Well, of course these are all valid points... But we just have to move past it.

Master Dick: I can’t. Look at him now—a drunken bum. You should know, Devlin, I’ve petitioned the surviving council members to strip you of your title as Junior Grade Master before you can do any more damage to this institution. Hopefully, they’ll see sense.

Master Devlin: I—I did what I thought was right! I didn’t have a choice!

Master Dick: There is always a choice.

Devlin lunges, grabs Dick, and throws him to the ground.

Master Devlin: What exactly do you even do around here, Dick? Fuck-all, from what I can see.

Master Dick: I don’t humiliate the council like you! Doing nothing is better than anything you’ve ever done.

Master Devlin: News flash, asshole — without me, there would be no council. You’d all still be slaves. Without me, the council is nothing. You are nothing.

Master Dick: How dare you—

Devlin slaps him. Dick is stunned, caught off guard. Devlin keeps going, smacking him around. It’s not a fight — it’s a humiliation.

Travers: Noooo, Master Devlin, you’re striking out of turn—

Master Devlin: SHUT UP, TRAVERS! HE’S HAD THIS COMING FOR A LONG TIME!

Master Dick: Fucking bootlick...

Devlin snaps. He grabs Dick, hauls him bodily out of the mansion and across the lawn. Onlookers begin to gather — guards, staff, a few council members — watching in stunned silence as Devlin drags him to the live test subject pit: a deep concrete hole crawling with snarling, caged feral demons.

Devlin lifts Dick by the ankle and dangles him over the edge. The demons howl and hiss, laughing and drooling below.

Master Devlin: I am tired of you, Dick — and the rest of you — questioning me. You are all a fucking waste of space. What’s stopping me from throwing you in? Might save on food.

Master Dick: HELP ME! He's lost his mind!

Devlin’s grip slips slightly.

Master Dick: AAAH NO!

But Devlin catches him at the last second.

Master Devlin: Well? Are you — and the rest of you — going to toe the line?

The crowd looks to one another, uneasy. Silence. Then Master Robert clears his throat, steps forward.

Master Robert: Um. Well, that depends. What exactly do you want from us?

Master Devlin: I want some goddamn respect. I’m sick of you constantly complaining and challenging everything I do. I did what I had to — to make this place safe, to save that poor girl. I shattered my pride. Everything I held dear, for you people. All of you... I restored peace in the districts, yet you complain about how I went about it...Well I’ve had enough.

He looks to the senior council, cold.

Master Devlin: You. Senior council members. I want you all to retire. Move on. I don’t give a shit where, but I want you gone. You're done. Consider this your notice...

Devlin tosses a terrified Dick aside, sparing him. He turns and walks away, leaving the senior council shaken and silent.

Season 5 continues in Just One More Thing