every evil villain monologue... or is it?

You approach the maximum-security cell guarded by the President's commander.

“Be careful, ma’am,” that idiot general whispers. “Adventurers like her are particularly sneaky.”

“I'm well aware,” you say, waving him aside. “Do not worry. I know how to deal with her type.”

He glances at you before quickly nodding and shuffling away. Now, you stand before the cell, only separated from your prisoner by the metal door.

Taking a deep breath, you adjust your glasses, open the door, and smile.

Inside the cell sits that pesky Snake Oiler. Even in captivity, she sits nonchalantly on the cold, hard floor, cross-legged and wholly unbothered by the cuffs around her wrists (at least, it seems that way). As you enter the room, she squints — you can't tell if it's from your presence or the sudden flood of light into her dark room. It's likely both.

“Whaddya want?” the adventurer asks. Her face is completely neutral. That doesn’t matter.

You smile at her as you close the door.

“You are lucky that this is the extent of your punishment,” you say, standing perfectly straight, hands behind your back. “I could have definitely called something worse to properly match the severity of your crime.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she replies. Her expression doesn’t change. “But, seriously. What the hell do ya want? Don’t ya have something better to do?”

“This is the most irritating thing about you pesky adventurers,” you croon. “Always thinking that you’re needed for something. Why can’t we just have a chat?”

“With all due disrespect, there’s nothin’ for us to talk about.” She leans against the wall, crossing her arms. Her face displays disinterest. You smell fear. “I’m not answerin’ yer questions.”

“Is that so?” Your smile grows wider. “How about this: what do you see when you look at me?”

Your prisoner narrows her eyes, staring right back at yours in a futile attempt at intimidation. However, she doesn’t stare for long before her eyes widen with a flash of horror. That’s the reaction you wanted.

“What’s wrong with yer eyes?” she demands. 

You have lured her to exactly where you want. Hook, line, and sinker.

“What do you mean?” you ask innocently. You even bat your eyelashes for the extra effect.

“It — it’s like someone scooped yer eyeballs out!” she exclaims, clenching her fists. “You’re… you’re one of those shadow monsters!”

“‘Monster’ is a bit harsh as a descriptor,” you purse your lips in disapproval. “I have simply… embraced the shadows.”

“Jeez, ya look like something straight outta some horror film! Why would ya do this to yerself for literally any reason?”

“Ah, ah, who’s the one asking questions now?” you say, clicking your tongue. “But I will humor you, since you’re so curious.” You restore your smile, displaying all of your pearly-white teeth. “This world is filled with… fools. No matter the position in the government — whether you’re a cop, a senator, or even the President… you’ll never be able to control everybody. Especially not the brainless crowd that doesn’t understand your power.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda the point of our three-party-system,” she shoots back. “Though I reckon the Shadow Government ain’t followin’ that, anyway.”

You ignore her comment and continue. “We only needed something more powerful than the government to truly guide the people.”

“And by ‘guide,’ do ya mean ‘rule over as an overlord?’”

“Please. We’re not brutes.” At least, you aren’t. You can’t say the same for the President. Though, everything you do is to serve her wishes. “We’re only doing this for the benefit of the world, and the shadows grant unimaginable power for those who accept it into their hearts. I’m certain you’re familiar with similar abilities, considering your previous practice of the Nex-Mex.”

The adventurer’s eyebrows furrow at the mention of those books. “Okay… I’m not gonna ask how ya knew about that since yer freaky government prolly has files on every living being in this country. But I betcha didn’t know that I kicked a necromancer’s ass before, so ya can’t scare me with that.”

“Please,” you laugh. “A necromancer can’t even dream of what shadows are capable of. Once the President finishes amassing shadow power, she will unleash the ultimate being into our dimension to properly govern this world of fools for what they are.”

“Oh, you’re just straight up telling me yer evil plan, got it,” she scoffs, leaning against the wall behind her. “Alright. Lemme ask another question, if ya don’t mind: why are ya makin’ an evil villain monologue to me, a ‘pesky adventurer’ ya just caught and don’t plan on releasin’ any time soon? That’s pretty much the trope that spells out failure. Ya aren’t even the first one who tried to monologue about some ultimate plan, and you’re definitely not gonna be the first to succeed.”

Her ignorance is simply glorious. You throw your head back and laugh, filling the tiny room with wispy echoes of your voice. You then take another step towards her, leaning right at her eye level with the widest smile you can muster. 

You stare right into her eyes. The almighty adventurer’s gaze is trapped against yours, reducing her confident front to one of a deer caught in headlights. No matter how much she wants to tear her eyes off yours, they will remain fixated on your dark sockets until you decide when she can look away. The darkness is too haunting. Too beautiful.

“Because, Ivanabe Gaye,” you say with a low voice, still grinning widely. “I’m certain you’ll never see the light of day again. Or at least, when you do, it’ll already be too late.”

You straighten up once more, returning to your proper stance. This finally breaks your line of sight, and your prisoner whips her head to the side with a curse under her breath. 

“For your efforts to stop us, you at least deserved to know the fate of the world while you rot in this metal cage,” you say, opening the door for your departure. “Now, sit here and think. You’ll have all the time until the end of your world.”

As you step out of the cell, you catch one final look at her face. Her expression is unrecognizable in the darkness. It might be fear, anger, determination — but none of it matters. 

With her and that meddling old man gone, there is nothing that can stop Margaret’s plans now.