CHAPTER 19: LeRoy

"So tell me," Midnight said as he and Chandler leisurely sat on the ground of the underground training facility as LeRoy sparred fiercely with Julia, digging up the hard, compressed dirt with only their feet, unaided by weapons or armor.

"Do you know about LeRoy's background? I can't possibly see him as anything other than what he is now..." Midnight said in a semi-awkward tone, wondering how in the hell he could've phrased that better. Chandler was unresponsive. Midnight wasn't sure if Chandler was engrossed in the action, or straight-up ignoring him. How rude. Though he was on bad terms with Chandler before, he had thought he remedied whatever relationship they could've had with him. Midnight cleared his throat.

"Chandler?" he said in a louder, jokingly aggravated tone.

"What do you want?" Chandler said, seemingly oblivious to Midnight's suffering.

"You know something about LeRoy's past, don't you? Tell me!"

"I... don't feel like it." Chandler grumbled bluntly.

"Fine…" Midnight said with disappointment before the creation of an idea slapped a smug grin on his face.

"How about I take over your responsibilities for today?!"

At that moment, Midnight knew he had pulled Chandler in hook, line, and sinker. Chandler never hesitated to find an opportunity to relax and work on his hobbies. Despite his appearance and character leaning much towards that of an athlete, Chandler did enjoy his fair share of intellectual stimulation. He loved building models of landscapes and traditional buildings from across the world, utilizing the web to research thousands of cultures and architectures. What LeRoy had with justice, and Brandy with science and tactics, Chandler had with the structure of the skyscraper, the gong, and the adobe alike. His passion was backed with tremendous talent, as he had personally aided in the creation of the designs that made up the structures that thousands of TA members currently resided in, including the very building that put a roof over all the six plagues' heads. This was no small achievement, and Midnight had learned to deeply respect Chandler for it. As Midnight spoke those golden words to Chandler, his cold, indifferent tone and posture straightened and brightened like a flower after the rain. There was no hesitation or doubt in his mind as he spoke these words:

"So you want to know the history of LeRoy? Sure, I'll tell you a small tale of when the Kingslayer himself was only a child, a mere sprouting bud compared to the hardy baobab he is now. He has gone through many terrible and great things and has stood against murders, rapists, and kings alike to give them their due karma. As you've already figured out by now, he is a man of stern, adamant rules. To those who keep them; he calls them his friends. To those who break them; he proclaims them dead. Now… where to begin..." Chandler paused before crafting his story.

"LeRoy was a good kid in his youngest years, with the gifts of great competency in mechanics and physics. He was a docile, shy boy who loved everyone and everything. His mission in life, as he once said, was to make everyone he came face-to-face with a smile. He had many friends, and was quite popular and accepted. They saw the goodness in him, and he saw the goodness in them. Unfortunately, you can probably tell where this is going. His life was not as perfect as it seemed. The confident and lovable boy elsewhere was no such a boy when he walked into the pristine, but certainly wretched doors of his home. Though he lived in a big home that was what some would even consider a mansion. However, LeRoy Alpastine would have rather lived on the streets. His mother… she was very abusive towards him for even the smallest of things, and went into rages when things did not meet up to her exact expectation. She slapped, punched, and clawed, sometimes even banging his head on the counters multiple times and pulling his hair so hard that it came out in fistfuls, causing LeRoy to have to shave his head and bear this humility elsewhere. His father did nothing, he didn't feel like he could do anything. He was also the victim of this abuse. They were trapped in a cycle, an ever-returning cycle. They both threatened her with contacting the police, but were so used to this torture that they thought it inevitable and absolute. Eventually, this gave birth to what was to be later called the 'Chair of Fidelity'. This personality was a defense mechanism that triggered when LeRoy subconsciously predicted danger. It was paranoid of wrongs and mistakes and avoided harm at all costs. It had a very childish mindset, one that was very unsubtle and easily discovered if confronted. LeRoy still managed to conceal the identity of this personality for quite some time, and had even developed a friendship between his old personality and the new one. They would talk back and forth mentally, discussing many things, and observing everything together.

He became more air-headed and zoned out at school, no longer paying much attention to those friends who could never understand him. Isolation gasped him, as he was together alone with the friend inside his head. Only he could understand all of LeRoy's hardships and sufferings. However, this changed again when his mother became furious as she found out several years later that LeRoy had developed this 'imperfection', and had even given it a name. With a thick, long, and slender board of wood, she beat him over the head, and continued while he fell to the floor and raised his hands in an attempt to soften the blows. This was no regular punishment, it felt to LeRoy as a desire to purge him. Blood oozed from LeRoy's cheeks, nose, mouth, and eyelids. His father stood there, too cowardly to intervene, biting his lip with suppressed anger. LeRoy saw the man's face, and a sinking feeling enveloped him to the depths of his vast core. Why would his own father forsake him at his greatest time of need? LeRoy, for the first time in his pitiful existence, shed tears. They were tears of hatred, disgust, and loneliness. As they fell down his desperate, creased face, he had a grand epiphany that shook his entire being. He was alone, totally alone! There was no one left in this world that cared for him, or would so much as lift a finger to help him now. He now understood what he must do. He must be a man of action and precedence, only he could make a change to his situation, and to the world. He must go out, and claim what was rightfully his. Influence, change, awareness, and most importantly, revenge. Upon this realization, a new identity manifested itself. One stronger, smarter, and more gruesome than the others. A testament of power and prestige that now rules over this country with a steel fist that breaks and shatters the iron ones. The Chair of Strength, otherwise known as Kingslayer, was born. Years and years of analyzing those attacks had led him to his moment of retribution, and it was a moment most glorious indeed. With movements akin to a professional boxer, he effortlessly dodged the bloodied weapon countless times, and caught it just as effortlessly under his arm, kicking the attacker away from the wooden pole. His mother hit her head on the wall, stumbling down to the floor and crawling away in terror, attempting to grasp footing to run away, but disoriented from her concussion. She looked back and gaped in horror as an unknown creature looked down upon her with her son's brilliant eyes, now tainted with a cruel, self-satisfied glare. Backed into a corner, she begged for forgiveness, for some way to consolidate her wrongdoings. And to this, the creature laughed wickedly and spoke in a soft, maniacal voice.

'Those who punish the innocent without hearing their testimony deserve one-hundred times the punishment. Tell me, woman, how many times did you spare poor, innocent LeRoy from your wretched hand? You gave him no choice but to suck up the sins he never got a chance to rebuttal. You have delivered your punishments in hell, but hell will be turned haven after what I'm about to do!'

Throughout the night, muffled screams of the purest essence of agony echoed through the hallways of the mansion and lasted three days until silence ensued. The creature in LeRoy's body looked down on the mangled corpse, grinning as a perfectionist does after a good day's work. He looked over at the remnants of his father, who was perched up against the wall, frozen in an icy fear from what he had witnessed. LeRoy walked over to the crippled man while wiping dried, smeared blood off the man's face, only to get more painted on by the brush of his hands, which were dipped freshly in the blood of the deceased.

'Oh, useless father, how terrible and wretched you are for being a man of dormancy. As much as I would like to give you your retribution, I have a task for you that you must gravely uphold. When the police come, tell them that some unknown person had so brutally murdered your wife and kidnapped your dearest son. Should they suspect you to be the killer, pay for your sins and accept fault. That is the least you can do for LeRoy, you wretched scum!' And at a moment's notice, the boy escaped from the house and made his way to find somewhere, or anywhere, that he could fulfill more of his desired purpose. Little did he know that the eyes of the TA were watching and waiting."

Midnight exhaled as if he had been holding his breath for the entire story. Just as he did, he heard deep breaths coming from LeRoy's huge chest as he strolled over to the two that were conversing. As Chandler tossed him the towel he was keeping in his hand, he decided to join in on the talk. He let out chuckling laughter.

"That's old news. A lot has happened in the seventy years since then. If you're that desperate to hear my story or the ancient history of the TA, then spar with me some more. Trade with me the tactics you've learned from months of solitary warfare. Let's stop fooling around. It's high time you use your X-enigma to its full extent. My training has become so uninspiring, unchallenging, and mundane. I need growth! I need to bleed and know my safety is not guaranteed. How long has it been since I've felt the peak euphoria of a hard-earned triumph? Do this, and your information is guaranteed."

Midnight rolled his eyes at LeRoy's peculiar dialogue. But this did bring up several questions for Midnight. Seventy years? Just how long had the enhancement procedure been out?

"Ok, but you will need your real spear, not that sharpened twig," said Midnight, referring to the lengthy solid metal training spear LeRoy held in his hands. Though it was too big for a normal person to hold and had a toughness and hardness dwarfing steel's, it was like wax to the shadowy sickles Midnight could fabricate in the blink of an eye.

"I'll get it then," LeRoy said as he walked over to the rack containing various weapons and guns.

"And let's go outside. We don't want Chandler on our tails if we so much as scratch the inner walls of this facility. He needs to hurry up and have the team develop stronger materials already."

"It's not as simple as that. Zelstone is still extremely hard to make, so until then, we don't have a stronger alternative" Chandler said sternly.

"Hmph. What are you waiting for, Midnight? Come with me so we can get my staff!" croaked LeRoy.

"Not now, of course. Our requested appointment with that 'doctor' is very soon. We have to get going."

"Ha, figures..." murmured LeRoy as his stance and mannerisms changed, signifying the control of the Chair of Strength waning as the Chair of Wisdom took hold of LeRoy's body. Midnight and Chandler simultaneously used their hands to launch themselves to their feet before Midnight paced himself slightly ahead of the rest, leading the way to the door. He heard the solid clunk of heavy mechanical feet pressing down on the solid tile. Non-living terrors lied beyond those doors, passing by to their location to be shipped off for their next slaughter. The mere footsteps of those horrors would have made Midnight tremble in fear many months ago when he was still soft and untainted by war. But they had nothing to do with the appointment. He had been told this meeting was extremely important, and would change the way he saw the TA and the world forever.