For the first time in history, Boss Man called the meeting. This situation was dire...
"What were you thinking?!" Whitney yelled out. "Confessing your deeds to the world... now look! Every person on the island wants your head!"
"...So?" DoomRater blantly stated.
"You remember the riot when Chief first tried to come back, don't you? How every person mutinied against us, and we had to fend for ourselves until we spread the word using our lobbyists?"
"Yeah..." Doomy sighed. He didn't like how this was going.
"We stuck our necks out for you. With your word, we'll do it again."
"No," Doomy coldly spoke. "How can anyone be above the law? I most certainly am not, and neither are any of you. We're not fighting this any longer. They want my head, they'll have it."
Everyone gasped.
"Have you gone mad?" Boss Man asked. "We hid this for you! Now you want to die for it?"
"Quiet," DoomRater hushed him. "Don't let anyone else know what you people did, or we'll all be dead!" He turned to Whitney. "I want this group to set my execution time, and get it ready ASAP! And don't try to bring me back alive, either! It's not worth your own necks!"
"It is too!" Whitney remarked. "Why do you think we even bothered to save you in the first place? We saw your heavy potential as a fighter! Your remarkable leadership skills!"
"Then do this for me," DoomRater begged. "I... I can't live with what I've done anymore..."
Unbelieveable. He admitted it. He was unstable...
----------------------
What torture had he inflicted upon himself, bringing himself to the mercy of his loyal subjects? Was he truly mad?
Now DoomRater sat, his humble living quarters that they called a jail cell... actually quite comfortable. It was set at the standard of living of the year 1998. Running water, a computer to confide in, and a working toilet was all he needed.
'How did I ever live with myself all these years?' he wondered.
He turned the computer on. A 40MB hard drive with 1MB extended RAM... not much, but perhaps he would find something on there comforting to him. Perhaps the journals of other condemned souls. Maybe they felt the same way he did...
----------------------
The day came. The one which each member of the Elite swore to never let happen... DoomRater's execution.
"Bring out the prisoner!" the executioner called.
Out walked a few guards holding DoomRater by the neck with a chain, choking him tauntfully.
Boss Man stared in disblief. 'Why did I let him talk me into this?' he asked himself.
Wait. He suddenly understood what DoomRater's death would mean. HE would be the leader of the Elite then! Then perhaps this was some kind of test? To prepare him for leadership of...
But why did he tell them not to bring him back from the dead? How would he get back to his position if-
Impossible. Could he really have meant what he said?!
'What the hell are you doing, DoomRater?' he wondered.
Maybe... maybe he had some kind of back up plan, or... maybe it was also a test of courage as well, to if they could honor his word to the letter, no matter what grief it caused them...
No. It couldn't be...
DoomRater's face... it was almost glad... despite the tears out of his eyes... he seemed glad that it was almost over...
They led DoomRater out to a wooden pole, where angry rioters surrounded the slaughterpoint. Everyone enjoyed the final moments of his life.
As they tied him to the pole, the executioner read off all details as to the method of execution, and why.
"Friends of the state," he began, "As you already know, this man is charged with the crime of Genocide. By the government of this land, his sentence is death. However, due to the enhancements on his body, the prisoner cannot be executed humanely. The method of execution is by lethal poison of a blade."
He turned to DoomRater. "Any last words for the record?"
DoomRater blinked away some tears, then replied, loudly, "JUST KILL ME AND GET IT OVER WITH, DAMMIT!"
"Those aren't your final words..." the executioner tapped his foot.
"If you must know," he sobbed, "I am sorry for my acts of genocide. In no way does that justify what I did, and all of you, ALL OF YOU, never make the mistake I did, or let all that power go to your head..."
"Have his words been recorded?" the executioner asked the recordkeeper.
"All words have been saved."
The executioner walked up to DoomRater and whispered, "I don't know about you, but this isn't very easy for me. I looked up to you, and here I am, ready to take your life from you..."
DoomRater replied, "Then do it for me. Don't let me suffer any longer than I have to... Do it for me, Cajun..."
The executioner pulled out the dataDyne poison knife and held it high.
"Goodbye... great leader..." he whispered.
Cajun closed his eyes before plunging the blade into DoomRater's chest.
But, to his surprise, DoomRater didn't scream. He didn't utter a sound.
All he heard was the ooze of red blood, turning foul purple from the poison inside of the knife.
DoomRater smiled. He finally got what he deserved all those years ago.
Whitney stared in disblief as well. But, hard as she was, she still could not confine what she felt for DoomRater.
Before she knew it, her hands were covering up her face because it was so tear stained...
Forest Man, the most enigmatic man onthe team, knew no other way to tell the world. He could only feel the pain, but he was afraid to let it out. He knew no one else as well as DoomRater. So, he simply thought, "Super-O, may God have mercy on your soul."
Chief had been on the evil side before. He knew what it was like for others to die, and he felt that DoomRater was another casulty. Certainly he had better leadership skills than Boss Man, but he had no respect from anyone else on the team. DoomRater was the only one who truly trusted him with anything...
Ninja wasn't able to watch. He left the stage to get some time alone. He knew of only one way to release his feelings. That was through combat.
Boss Man had a mix of each member's responses. He was the most versatile man on the team, and the only one who had different ways to deal with any discomfort that watching his good friend die caused him. He chose the way of the soldier.
Now, they were down to five...
