DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

Bend Test

In the prison he was in, Knives plotted.

Technically, it wasn't a prison. Just a basement. Vash said he would rather Knives be with him and the two women in the main part of the house, but until Knives proved he could be trusted, it just wasn't possible.

He was down here, with no choice of whether he could leave. A thin mattress. Pillow and blanket. That was it. Everything else had been stripped out. Even his range of motion was limited – he was shackled and chained to the concrete floor, leashed like a dangerous animal.

Seemed like a prison to him.

Like a prisoner, he fought his own war against those holding him.

Oh, sure. His brother wanted to "save" him.

Liar. Worthless, traitorous liar. Vash didn't want to save him, he wanted to break him. That's what all of this was really about. All these "therapy sessions". All these arguments Vash presented about the value of life and the good humans were capable of.

His brother was doing nothing more than trying to brainwash him. Make him into a good little boy like Vash. There was no real concern there for Knives, he just wanted to prove his own point of view right.

Wanted to cover up his own weakness. Stupid, scared little boy. If he had had any real strength at all, he would have dropped balls and put Knives down a long time ago. You don't let the enemy live. That was just the natural order, and it was right. As was Knives' divine will to power. Eventually, he would win.

In the meantime, he trained. Studied the enemy from the books that were the only luxury allowed him by Warden Vash. He particularly identified with the Norse tales he found, tales of a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. He quite respected the characters in them, Odin in particular. Thor was ok, though he detested the way the god protected the humans, even married one. The responsibility of a god is to rule, not protect. He laughed when Loki hid in the form of a horse and was impregnated.

He engaged in physical training each night, pushing as hard as he could to build his body back up from the damage Vash had inflicted on him. Just because Knives couldn't use the Angel Arm anymore didn't mean he couldn't fight.

Over time, his strength returned, until he was able to support his bodyweight in the supreme test of strength and balance that was a handstand pushup done on the index fingers. There was nothing round enough to use as a pullup bar, but he improvised by grabbing the thick central beam overhead for time. His grip eventually became strong enough that he was able to use the beam to do his pullups.

In a piece of polished metal he had managed to steal while being moved down here, Knives was able to see an adequate reflection of himself. He watched his reflection as his body returned to form. Comparing himself to the descriptions in the books, he was aware he looked like a Norse god of old.

Women threw themselves at those gods. Even in other cultures, women lusted after their good-looking deities. Just look at Io and Zeus. The fairy gancanagh. Even in early Biblical history, there were reports of women having intercourse with angels. Examples abound.

This line of thought set the gears grinding in his head. What was most valuable to Vash? His woman.

What did human women seem susceptible to, according to the books? The aesthetics of a deity-like body.

He didn't need to read to know Vash would be heartbroken if his precious wife were to betray him.

The stumbling block was that the woman was as devoted to Vash as he was to her. But stumbling blocks are meant to be gotten around.

His telepathic power was far weaker than at his prime, but it was still there. He worked with it as he did his body, though far more cautiously. If Vash knew the progress he was making, steps would be taken. Prisoners do not fight their captors by waving their weapons in plain sight before using them.

He exercised his power slowly, judiciously, and progress was far slower than his physical training. But he was certain he could exert his will over one person in close range.

As Knives planned, he grinned viciously. He would force the woman to be his against her will, conscious of everything her body did by his command and powerless to stop it. Conscious of the desire he planted in her head and powerless to not feel it.

She would be forced to betray her husband, and forced to enjoy it. Finally, he would get to see that wench brought low to her proper place, and see his brother's heart dsintegrate.

A double-whammy of delicious suffering that would allow Knives his opportunity to finish them both and seize his freedom.

Glorious!