You sat draped over his lap, a bandaged hand pressed firmly against your thigh.

“The Paranormal Liberation Front. Pushing aside the name of ‘villain’ and allowing the meta framework to be interpreted more broadly…Anyway, the name’s the same as this—”

He removes the dismembered hand from his face to hold for reference.

“It’s just decoration. We’ll do what we want.” His speech concludes with a sly smirk, the multitude that made up the Liberation Army cheering wildly.