A/N: shoutouts to the claymore fandom, hope yall love Rubel as much as I do~
"Gentlemen, quiet, please! We have gathered here tonight to discuss matters of vital importance! Our decisions tonight may well change the future of your city forever!"
As a hush fell over the assembled men Rubel felt the familiar thrill of power course through him. They hung on his every word! Months of preparation had led to this moment, all that was left to do was convince these naïve malcontents from within the city to help him execute his plan.
"You know very well what is at stake, gentlemen," Rubel continued, "the beating heart of this once great city has collapsed under the excesses of corruption and waste! You're taxed to the breaking point only to support those too lazy to work! Under the oppression of the city, hard-working folk like yourselves can't live the life you deserve!"
This was patently untrue, but nevertheless the small mob fervently voiced their agreement at his words. Since returning to the Mainland, Rubel had been astounded at the egalitarian society that had evolved during his tenure away on the Island; resources, labour and wealth were now spread fairly and equally throughout all rungs of society by the respective ruling factions.
Fortunately for Rubel, there were always those greedy and petty enough to demand more.
"He's right!" one shouted, "I'm breaking my back working day in, day out, only to come home to hear the jobless airheads next door have filled my wifes head with all kinds of nonsense!"
This occasioned some further murmurs of support.
"Eh, your back?" someone asked, "don't you make shoes?"
"Oh, and I suppose you're an expert on cobbling then? Just like them layabout neighbours, saying I don't need to do it by hand, trying to complicate things with their fancy machinery , as if they've ever worked-"
"Excellent point, comrade," Rubel tactfully interrupted, "it is learned men, men like yourselves, who should be using their knowledge to help shape the city."
This was met by a thoughtful silence as the assembled conspirators considered how that city might look. It would be only fair that these learned men be substantially rewarded for their services.
"That's how it should be, sure! But no real change can come without violence, and the rule of law is upheld in the city by veterans of the War. There's simply no practical way to change things around here," an even voice intoned.
Rubel peered at the man from behind his dark glasses, a thin smile on his lips.
"I have a way."
He let the silence hang for a moment, felt it thicken with his audience's hungry expectancy, then continued,
"I too am a veteran of the War, although my role was more…research-orientated. I was on the forefront of military science; I know the art of manufacturing the creatures of War, now perhaps moreso than any man alive. And I've created a new type of warrior to assist the right men in the governance of this city."
There was a general feeling from Rubel's audience that the right men were gathered here tonight.
"What, a real warrior?" someone asked, "one of those…monsters? Giant claws, scales, a hundred heads?!"
"Some of them have wings, beasts the size of castles who breathe fire and death!" another added, his shrill voice reflecting the nervous apprehension now spreading through the crowd.
"Errr…you can control it, right?" the Cobbler asked cautiously.
Rubel could now, but not when she awakened. His plan hinged on convincing these cityfolk to smuggle her into the city while she was still in her small, human form, thus generating the most civilian casualties when she inevitably awakened. It would be a massacre, Rubel thought, one that would definitely bring him to the attention of the respective powers in the War.
"Of course, she will be as devoted to our cause as I am. This warrior is my daughter." he replied.
Rubel felt this was true, from a certain warped perspective. He was becoming a doting father to his creations, he mused, ever since the spectacular results of his experiments in the Claymore program. He did not feel remorse for the torments he inflicted upon his children, because they were necessary, but he did sympathise for them in his own twisted way.
His latest daughter, Sasha, had suffered much. There would be no joy for her as a human; Rubel took solace in the fact that he was gifting her a colossal feast for her awakening.
"Gentlemen," Rubel began, sensing the need to change the mood in the room, "With my daughter Sasha as our champion we can take control of this city, returning it to the glorious days where wisdom and hard work were rewarded!"
His audience clearly liked the idea of reward, and the nervous silence was filled by the familiar murmurings of approval.
"Well…if we were to expand my shop, I could get a few of the local unemployed lads in, show them the craft of shoemaking. Just to give a bit of my knowledge back, you know…" the Cobbler mused aloud.
The hearts of men were simple things to move, Rubel thought; after wrestling to control monsters, dominating the minds of men was nothing.
"Now gentlemen, would you like to hear what small thing I require of you?" he asked, "The walls of this city are designed to protect against attacks from creatures of the War, and while Sasha could no doubt overcome them it may buy time for the city's illegitimate government to call for outside reinforcements. Our best chance of success is if she can launch her assault from inside the city itself, and that is where you come in."
"So you want us to smuggle her into the city?" one of the low, even voices asked.
Rubel's thin lips broke into a wide smile. Sometimes the intelligent ones were the easiest to control. They practically did all the work for him.
"Precisely, comrade, precisely. My daughter is young, a child really, but her transformation is a creature of incredible power. I will feed her a medication which induces sleep and masks any traces of her power from being detected by the guards; all I require is that a few of you take your families on a trip out of the city, and return with Sasha in your party. So what say you, gentlemen? Are there any among you able to transport a sleeping child, to restore the glory of your city?"
Rubel's gaze raked over the assembled men from behind his black-tinted glasses. The desperate, hungry caste to their expressions was all the confirmation he needed.
"Errr…what do we do when she wakes up?" the Cobbler asked.
If he had calculated the dosage correctly, she would begin to transform almost immediately. Through experimentation with yoma suppressants he had kept her on the verge of awakening ever since she succumbed to the rigours of his training. His daughter was truly incredible, and would flourish into a devastating beauty when she fully awakened.
Anyone nearby would instantly be food.
"She will probably be hungry," Rubel replied, "so make sure to feed her; she will carry out her side of the plan when she is ready. You good people have suffered under the oppression of injustice for too long! Through her, we will make this city great again!"
His audience let out an animated cheer, lost in thoughts of their own greatness in this liberated city.
Such simple creatures, Rubel thought. It was nothing to offer a whole city of them to his daughter's devouring hunger; the massive deathtoll would be a testament to her power, and finally give him leverage to negotiate with other powers in the War with the status he deserved.
He absently wondered at how Sasha would compare to his previous protégés. His greatest creations, Claire and Rafaela, had been creatures of exquisite beauty and elegant destruction. If suffering as a human influenced the resulting awakened being as much as Rubel predicted, Sasha would be a fearsome creature indeed and a match even for them.
Soon, daughter, he thought. Soon, the pain ends.
And the hunger will begin.