The prisoners and aliens—my so-called allies—had already turned about sixty percent of Malthus' castle gates into scrap metal.
Sixty percent. Not bad.
They could've walked inside right now if they had two brain cells and one ounce of patience.
But no.
They wanted perfection.
They wanted total annihilation.
One hundred percent destruction. Because apparently, breaking into a castle was less about strategy and more about "emotional fulfillment."
They had trained their asses off—literally, some of them no longer had asses—and now they wanted proof of their strength.
Proof in the form of door obliteration.
And while I admired the commitment to vandalism, I also had this tiny thing called a sense of urgency.
We didn't have time to hold a grudge against architecture.
So yeah, I decided to "help."
Not personally, of course. I'm a leader, not a laborer.
I turned to Erect and Sexis, my two favorite demolition tools disguised as people.
