Deathsaurus sat on his throne. His gaze was hard as his clawed servos impatiently tapped against the armrests.

He was waiting on information from the latest mission, and he was irritated that it was taking so long.

He let his subjects do whatever they’d like, but if they failed, they’d be brutalized.

His two pairs of red optics glanced around the large room, thinking of the ways he could potentially brutalize his lacking subordinates.