The looting operation had been a glorious, chaotic, and profoundly satisfying success.
My throne room, a place of imposing crystal and strategic importance, was now filled with the low, rumbling snores of my victorious but exhausted army.
The air was thick with the scent of unwashed Orc, burnt electronics, and the faint, unmistakable smell of victory.
We now owned a fleet of slightly dented pickup trucks, several dozen computers that were probably running on an operating system from the Stone Age, and enough toasters to equip a small nation with a mediocre breakfast.
It was a good day.
But with victory came the inevitable, soul-crushing reality of human resources.
I had summoned the instigators of the recent… disciplinary issue… to my throne room.
Chloe, my beautiful, fanatical shadow.
Layla, my sultry, manipulative Lilim.
And Izayoi, my impossibly expensive and perpetually bored Vampire Baron.
My "Fanatic Trio," as I had started calling them in my head.
