The iron doors slammed shut, locks clacked, and the little window slit opened. It was Jenna's face, but she stood on her tiptoes just to look through.

"Sorry, Redrim," she said.

"Don't be," I said back. "In fact, I'm proud of you for doing it."

She smiled softly. "The rebels are going through an election. Once we have a new leader, we'll need to vote on your punishment."

I took a deep breath. This was... fine. It felt a burden was easing off me. "I'll vote for you," I said.

She grunted on the other side, her body lifted, and she reached her hand through the narrow slit of the window and pat the air.

I knelt down and let her give me a few head pats. "Thanks, kid."

She jumped down. "Take care." And the window slit slammed shut, and I was alone again.

In my bedroom, at least.

We were all honest with each other here. This was my ship. It was an extension of my body. There was no way in hell they could imprison me in a living battleship, so locking me in my room like a tower princess was about all they could get away with, and to be fair, I was 100% okay with that.

It gave me time to be one with my thoughts. To do some progression shit. Paperwork, blueprints, crew classes.

In turn, the rebels could handle planning out the invasion. This was easier for all of us.

Natural sunlight poured in from the stern windows. I spawned in a recycler to keep me company, and he just sort of hopped around, sweeping the floors, cleaning up the white goop that still covered my bed, and whenever I would crumple up the paper of a failed idea, I'd toss it into his little trash can mouth.

He hummed in return.

I named him Freddie.

With him as my only company, I spent my time updating the various ship progression systems.

Recycling:

Mining Lasers: 27

Base Rate: 3000 M/s

Size Modifier: Ship, 5.0

Density Modifier: Soft, 1.5

Auxilliary Modifier: Mining+, 1.5

Final Rate Each: 33,750 M/s

Final Rate Total: 911,250 M/s

XP Rate Total: 9,113 XP/s

Time Elapsed Since Last XP Gain: 1,224 Minutes

+669,258,720 XP

XP Until Next: 16,651,422,056 XP

Work Order in Progress:

Hull: Continuous Expansion: 66,922 tons

Work Order Completed

New Work Order:

Bridge Upgrade

Aircraft Hangar Expansion

Aircraft Hangar Pilot Facilities

MF-16 x50

Phallomancer Research and Dick Observatory

Machinist's Workshop Upgrade

Magic Research Upgrade

Training Room Upgrade

Gimp Development Facility Upgrade

Resource Hold: Increase to 10,000 tons

Hull: Continuous Expansion

Gimp Development System

Current Evolution: Water Gimp

Current Progress: 100%

Evolution Unlocked

New Gimp Abilities unlocked

Current Evolution: Volatile Mana Gimp

Current Progress: 17%

Machinist's Workshop:

+Dragonscale Cyberleather

+Advanced Redrim Drive

+Heavy Rail Launcher

+Autocannon

+LMF2 Rocket Engine

Magic Research:

+Homing Potion

+Liquid Homing

+HP UP Potion

+MP UP Potion

+TimeFlashStop Potion

+Liquid TimeFlashStop

Training Center:

Available classes:

Knight

Healer

Archer

Mage

Swordmage

Machinist

Fighter

Rifleman

Anti-Armor Personnel

Crewman

Turret Gunner

Gunboat Pilot

MF-16 Pilot

New classes:

Phallo-acolyte

Bureaumancer

Tank Commander

Cowshitmancer

Spidermancer

Paladin

Spearman

Priestess

Sniper

Crew:

Combat: 412

Support: 59

Gimps: 100

Mercenaries: 8

Non-Combatants: 48

Recent Recipes:

Feign Death Potion

Invisibility Potion

Equipment Repair Potion

Mind Flash Potion

Summon Swarm: Insect Scroll

Vines Potion

Conjur Demon Scroll

Power Circle Scroll

Medical Coma Injection

Description: Syringe filled with Feign Death potion. Essentially places victim or patient into a controlled comatose state. Good for surgeries.

High-grade Painkiller Injection

Description: Syringe filled with watered-down Feign Death potion.

Liquid Invisibility

Description: Uses light refraction techniques to create partial invisibility. Creates a moving blur obvious to nearby observers but almost perfectly invisible from a distance or while stationary.

Liquid Repair

Description: Repairs machinery over time.

Liquid Stun

Description: Stuns biological creatures.

Liquid Swarm: Insect

Description: Summons mana-borne insects that live for the duration of the spell.

Liquid Vines

Description: Vines from trees.

Liquid Mass Driver

Description: Creates a magic circle that accelerates objects passing through.

Recent Abilities:

Heart of the Sadist

Description: Gain power after continuous, successful attacks.

Phew. That was a lot of shit to cover. By the time I was finished, the sun had set, and through the windows of the aft-facing windows, I could see the warm glow of city lights blink on and soon flood the horizon.

The iron door rattled with heavy knocks. I stepped over, and the little window slit slid open. The Gimp King's meaty chest stared back, and he spoke. "Redrim."

"Hi."

"It is time," he rumbled.

"Time for what?"

The door blasted open and knocked me back. I rolled. The door shot through the window glass and into the sea. I slammed against the far wall, and I looked up to see the Gimp King staring down at me.

He was naked, save for his bulging thong that throbbed eagerly. "It is time, Redrim," he roared, "For chastity is purity, and to purify your horrid soul of your sexual sins, you must be chastised. Prepare your body," he quaked, "for your Advanced Consent Training."

I tried to speak, but it was as though I had never spoken a word to anyone before. I could only stare in horror. In fear. In submission of this man who had deemed me unfit.

A woman stepped through the ruined doorway, and my eyes widened with fear as I saw who it was.

It was the Phallomancer. She took one sly-fox look at me, held out her hand, and a floppy snake of a rubber dick spawned in. She smirked. "Mmmmyes," she said. "It appears we have one who requires a reminder of the power of dick--mmyyes--a man who has forgotten the burden of such phallic responsibility."

I grimaced. Somehow. Just somehow. I knew that massive rubber shlong was gonna find its way into my body, and I hoped against hope it wouldn't be through my coin slot.

They came upon me, and my world darkened. Sexually.

An hour passed.

The rebels came to check on us. I had been screaming. In pain. In agony.

Then another hour passed.

They returned to find me strung up in the ceiling, wrapped up in a network of sex swings like a spider web, surrounded by groaning and writhing and snapping gimps, and we all vibrated and shook as the Gimp King slapped us with his dick. Not his real dick. But the fake one.

The phallomancer watched as I suffered. She laughed. She cried. She cheered as the Gimp King taught me the meaning of consent, the importance of it, the sheer power it gives a person, and while I didn't have a dramatic off-screen character development training montage, I did, in fact, learn to maybe be not an asshole.

"There, Redrim," roared the Gimp King, strapped into the sex swing beside me. We were no longer tied up along the ceiling, and we were now floating in a sea of gimps, these writhing, worming gimps wobbling their bodies as we floated in the tide of them, and the Gimp King nodded at my progression. "You have learned much, my brother, yet still," he rumbled, "There is transcendence yet beyond."

Passing gimp fingers traced my butthole as we crested another gimp wave, and at this point, I wasn't bothered. No. In fact, I welcomed it. "Very well, Gimp King. You know of sexual degeneracy from even the furthest star, and I hope you will take me there."

"I will take you further," he grinned.

He handed me a piece of black cloth. It was--I gasped like a princess at the sight of it--my very own acolyte gimp mask! It was like the Gimp King's leather mask that covered his eyes and nose, but this one was lacy with scandalously thin straps.

"Thank you, King," I said. "I will wear this into battle."

"May it bring you victory," he said with a pat on my shoulder. "Sexual victory."

The phallomancer, riding a pool floatie on the other side of my bedroom, clapped with tears of joy.

And that was about it. The two weirdos left my room. The gimps filed out. My room was again covered in strange substances, my bed now sticky, and my door was still shattered off the hinges.

Just to be polite, I put in a work order to fix it, and I continued my house arrest. The night continued. I summoned the trash knight dungeon mob, and we sparred together with knife arms. Dawn came. By the morning, my room was good as new, had that fresh recycled trash smell, and I got my first guest of the day.

It was the Card King. He shifted his glasses at me from the other side of the narrow window, then looked down at whatever paper he was shuffling. "Alright, Redrim. Even though you're in jail, we've decided to let you vote."

"Okay."

"Who do you want to... uh," he squinted his eyes at me. "...vote for--what is on your face?"

"A gimp mask," I said. "Go ahead and tell me who I can vote for."

He furrowed his brow with a mix of confusion and concern, shook his head, and looked back down at his notes. "Yeah, uh. There's Elder Thomas, the village chief. John, the bartender. Jenna, the leader of the desert cell. And Humphrey—you’ll like Humphrey—he’s the cow shit farmer."

"Humphery? What the fuck kind of name is--"

"Okay... Humphery. Got it." He scribbled in his paper. "You vote for Humphery…"

"That wasn't my vote, fucker. I vote for Jenna. If anything, I'd vote Humphery to be jettisoned into the sea for bringing mounds of cow shit into my ship."

"Our ship," he said, "And yes, of course, you're voting for Jenna. Everybody on this fuckin' ship voted for Jenna. Except for Humphrey."

"Wow, fuck that guy."

"No, no, it was a mistake. He ended up smudging cowshit on the ballot, and it turned out he actually did vote for Jenna."

"So Jenna won?"

The Card King scoffed. "Yes, Redrim. That's how elections work." After stuffing his papers into his coat pocket, he turned and left. His heels tapped across the metal floors and down the halls of the executive suites.

Around noon, the rebel officers and command staff visited me in the captain's room for a little tea party and war strategy. Most of it was older dudes, but the Card King, Doc Jackelope, and Jenna were all in attendance. A little recycler trash can hopped around and poured cups of tea, and I reclined back on my recycled armchair.

"The Lambston Research center," I said. "That's where the weapon is?"

"Yes, Redrim," said Doc Jackelope. "According to our scanners, there is a mass of Cosmic Shards in that location."

"What about the weapon?" I asked.

"We do not have much information," Doc said. "But I am working closely with Jessie to reverse engineer those jet missiles so that we may have a long-distance weapon to destroy it with."

I fanned out my hands. "Great. Easy. Why not just level the palace with those missiles as well?"

The Card King answered. "Marianna is in the palace, and she will not go lightly to a barrage of that order."

Jenna continued. "She is a powerful mage, Redrim. If you wish to defeat her, you'll need to form a raiding party to challenge her there, in the palace."

I smirked. Marianna got the best of me last time because she had stolen my fucking kidney, but now I didn't have kidneys. I was a trash can. Trash cans don't have kidneys. This time, we had the element of surprise.

Still, without any real magic of my own, it would be a tough fight. That's where my friends would need to come in. We'd have to face her together, and I was already excited about how best to outfit them with weapons and armor and potions. It was almost like going on old raids again.

"But," Jenna said. "If the weapon is activated and Marianna protects it, we would find ourselves in an uphill battle."

A voice came from the doorway. "The worldslayer weapon is not at the Research Facility." It was Vil. He stomped in, slicked back that one side of his hair, and spoke in his same bored tone again. "The Research Facility houses the gate to the Outer Reaches. That is the purpose of the Cosmic Shards. To power the gate."

One of the rebel elders scoffed. "And why should we believe the words of a traitor? Once a turncoat, always one."

I grit my teeth. It was obvious where the conversation was headed. After all, Vil was the officer in charge there, and it was there that Jenna was imprisoned. "I fought him there," I said. "On that rooftop. Vil was the--"

"--Leader of that place," finished Jenna. "I know. I recognize the face." She stared across the room at Vil. The clock ticked on the wall. The rebel leaders squirmed in their seats uncomfortably. "I'll believe him," she finally said. "We'll need to assume the gate is there at the facility, and the location of the weapon is still unknown."

"Alright," I said. "Then we'll just blow it up."

"Not so fast," said the Card King. "I've heard the stories. We all have. What if there are still prisoners there?"

Vil answered. "There will be."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Goddamnit. We'll need to split off an invasion force there as well."

"Don't forget," said the Card King. "We'll have thousands of underground rebels within the city to help us."

One of the elders nodded. "Along with the mages of the Mages' Guild, and the fighters of the Fighters' guild."

The Card King asked, "What about the Revolutionary Guild? Are they in?"

"No," said the elder. "We reached out, but they had to do a wedding that day."

"Wait," I said, "What day is the attack?"

Everyone looked at me. Some tilted their heads. Jenna smiled as if she were about to burst into laughter. "Tomorrow, Redrim. Right after the ceremony."

"Ceremony?"

"Your promotion ceremony."