"So, do you want to explain exactly how you failed?" The Master of Games was not going to even pretend he was pleased.
Dio rose from his reverent kneel and stood before his master. "They were simply too strong," he asserted. "Even with warriors as powerful as you have supplied me with, we cannot hope to counter them. Unless my team can get a serious upgrade, we cannot hope to defeat them in combat."
"Such insolence," fumed the Master of Games, delivering a backhand the knocked Dio to the common hall's floor. Filia rushed to the vampire's side. "You were the one who claimed that your power would lead your team to victory. And now you have failed me twice. He's mocking me, and you are useless to stop him."
"But… he tried," said the girl.
"His own arrogance destroyed him. And the novelty of his wardrobe has worn off."
Dio rubbed the side of his face angrily. "My arrogance would mean nothing if I was assigned a target I could actually kill!"
"Wait-" cried Filia, raising her hand to halt another strike from the Master of Games. "just, hold on," she whimpered. "What if instead of focusing on destroying the team, we just complete the objectives ahead of them? You just tell us where to go, and we'll finish before they can get there."
"Humph," shrugged the kingly figure. "That is an idea, I suppose. That could work. You wouldn't necessarily need to engage them directly, just hold them off at most… yes, that's not bad at all."
Filia gave a feeble smile. "T-thank you, my liege."
The Master of Games frowned. "Whatever. I need to plan the next round. Get out of my sight."
The girl helped Dio to his feet and the two left to return to the rest of the team.
"What is your problem?" the vampire hissed.
"What? What do you mean?"
"I mean, you're obsessed with me. You follow me around everywhere and now you're sticking up for me- there's loyalty and then there's annoying. Usually the ladies who obsess over me end up very dead."
Filia blinked, and took a step away from him. "It's just… I think there's more to you than just pure evil, Lord Dio."
"That is laughable," he spat.
"N-no," she replied. "I really think… you let something inside you go wrong. You could have been a good person, I'm certain. You're only mad with power because that was the only way up for you… but here, it's different. I'm not following you around because I'm drunk on your charisma or something. I just… want to understand why."
Dio sighed. "I'll tell you a story. But it will be very long and very weird."
"Samson and I are quite patient if we want to be, isn't that right?"
"I dunno if that explanation changed my mind, Filia," grumbled her parasite.
"He says yes."
"I quit."
"You what?" roared Megatron.
"I quit," repeated Samus. "I figured out that every other time the table of food shows up here, they've got millet puffs. I don't need you to collect them for me."
"But I also promised you a way to get even with the SPARTAN, did I not?"
"I don't need you for that, either," growled the bounty hunter. "I'll figure that out, too. I never should have stopped working alone."
"Then how shall I exact my much-needed revenge?" cried the Predacon.
"Do it yourself," suggested Samus.
"But how? I am but one mech against an entire team!"
"Then make your own, stupid," she spat. "It's not like anything's stopping you."
"But-"
"But nothing," Samus grunted, turning away. "I'm out of here."
She stomped away from Megatron's table, leaving the Predacon alone once more.
Curses. My plans have been foiled. She suggests that I form my own team- how naïve the organics are. No one with half a processor would join a team led by me after my escapades for the Master of Games.
Unless I could promise them millet puffs. Yesss, I may be onto something…