I write an Isekai about communist revolution until an anime is made out of it

A Line To Be Crossed

I slipped the flap aside and was immediately confronted by Hadlon, Feo, and the scarred newcomer slouched over a table, surveying a map of the region like it was an eviction notice.

"Welcome, offworlder. Care to plot with us?"

"You're plotting? About what?"

"How best to spit in the face of our mutual acquaintance the butcher. Your friend has made quite the enemy."

It was only when Hadlon nodded to a corner at the word "friend" that I noticed few inches of Vay's face peering out from behind a new wrapping of cloak. Her eyes fixated on the ground, and was that a shade of blush I saw between them?

Don't let your peepee think for you, king. She lead me here for something. Maybe now I'll even find out what game I'm playing as a pawn in.

Scarface pulled the conversation back to focus: "Yes, yes she has. And it earned her a dose of villain's poison; I know because I carry the same illness. She uses it to keep her minions in line, or in your case simply to torture from afar."

That left the room in a mourning silence which was quickly dispelled by Hadlon's giving Scarface a stare that I seriously considered might have been directly triggering his pain response through sheer force of will. It was a (meta?)-physical pressure deep enough to twist his scarred face into terror while he turned to Vay and continued.

"I've stooped to telling you this, so the least I can give you is honesty: if you don't know of anyone or anything that can cure you, you will be incapable in a few days, and dead in hundreds. If you have anything vital to handle in that time, every minute here is a minute wasted. If not, I'd use this time to pick an agreeable death."

Really? First that kiss infects me and now she's just dead? Will she just spit out that she loves me before dying sometime soon, now?

That twisted Hadlon's face into a frown deep enough to complement the social awkwardness of watching this exchange into overpowering my higher reasoning and sending me bolting out the tent and for the hills when he swung his gaze to me.

"Maybe we do. Offworlder, I have reason to believe that you've made the butcher's acquaintance."

"Have I? Look, I have no idea who this even is."

"Really? Fiery-haired woman, wears an indecent amount of armor, wields a scythe?"

"That's who the butcher is? Damn, I should've paid closer attention back then because I legitimately do not remember a word she said."

"So, no convenient breakthroughs about weaknesses, then..."

"Well, uh- what now?"

"Now" Vay piped up from over my metaphorical and Hadlon's physical shoulder, " I need to 'pick an agreeable death'..."

"I'll face the butcher in combat. If I must die, it'll be against the one who's already killed me."

Hadlon settled on a grimace before joining her: "then I'll fight with you. That savage has killed far too many of my people, and now it strikes you? This is a stand I should've taken long ago."

Now Feo rose to the conversation at long last: "I'll join you. After everything you've done, sir, it would be criminal to abandon you now."

"And I've known you more than long enough to expect no crimes. Speaking of which, this is no longer a place for a henchman of the butcher's. Feo, rid us of him."

At that, Feo and Scarface left with expressions I'd chalked down to the grim conversation they'd left, and not anticipation of the single gunshot which rang out a matter of seconds later.

"That leaves you, offworlder. I've asked many things of many people in these horrible past few years, but this would be the limit. You're under no real obligation to make this final stand with us, and your 'guns' are at least capable of harming the butcher, but you'd need to face her a hundred times over for one success."

"But- wha- are- are you just planning on attacking that bitch with just your two closest friends?"

"Three, if you're willing. What's the matter with that?"

"Your- you lead an army, don't you? I mean, you just told me guns work, and- if it would take me a hundred tries, then a hundred people would only need one try. Right?"

That suggestion stopped the giant in his tracks, idling with a frown that by some miracle failed to bludgeon my retinas away from him. I'm still not entirely convinced that I controlled myself for those two minutes, as opposed to some Eldrich miasma of firm handshakes possessing my body lest any of the incalculable doubts multiplying with their every ricochet against my skull take its place. The fact that Hadlon's gaze never fractured any of my bones, and that none of the doubts I'd mustered in that silence smashed out through my skull at relativistic speeds, and that Vay remained fully opaque in her corner after having simply watched the exchange in awe, became my most compelling evidence against the existence of metaphysical "force of will" in this world.