You sit in your war-room, waiting patiently. The room has been done up quite nicely now that you're in charge. The head seat at the table is a black, marble throne, with Magos' Cern's skull and Chapter Master Taj's head hanging from the red banner behind you, the banner emblazoned with the stark, spiky symbol vaguely shaped like the spear that once represented the Uwais tribe. You lieutenants are around you, Fay sitting directly to your right in an ornate red chair, with the upper half of the humanoid robot that Primus uses as his "face" to talk to to your left. Cain sits in a massive chair, a massive cooked carcass in his hands that he devours. Across from him sits Captain Hayes, who you've situated near the air vent to avoid choking on the ever-present smoke that emanates from the ever-present lho-stick clenched in his teeth. Olive and Castus are at the end, across from each other, which leads to an endless amount of bickering between the intelligent, pragmatic Olive and carefree, happy, impulsive Castus. You're all set up entirely to scare and intimidate John the Hermit when he enters. The Staine Siblings are off to the side with Meliodas, with Durge chewing on a rat carcass, Elizabeth reading, Elios waiting impatiently and Meliodas pacing the room. Hopefully, it'll work.


"By will of the people, I ascend to the chamber of the Gods! I will beseech them as a poor, twisted food, by will of the people!" a voice cries, as the door is pushed open. 


Two Kasrkin soldiers stand next to John the Hermit. The mutant prophet is a horrible, wretched creature. His spine is twisted, making him a hunchbacked creature. The ring and pinky finger of his left hand is fused together, as is his middle and index finger, giving it a crab claw-like appearance. His other hand is different, a literal engorged crab claw, covered in a thick chitin, looking able to crush a man in half. His face is twisted and mismatched, with only a few oversized teeth in his mouth, one eye much larger than the other and a squashed nose that looks akin to it having been badly and repeatedly broken. His back is misshapen, covered with a thick chitin like that of a crab's being more akin to a shell than a human's back. 


"With my own two eyes! With my own two eyes I see the supposed gods!" he says, walking forward with a strange look on his face that you can't decipher thanks to his deformities. 


"Are you the man known known as John the Hermit?" you ask.


"The man? No, no, not at all. I am the beasts, a simple creature twisted by your inaction," John the Hermit says bitterly.


"My inaction?" you ask.


"Have you seen what freaks we've become? Nuclear waste from reactors aren't cleared off, even though we haven't used nuclear reactors for millennia! Malnutrition! Lack of medical attention! There used to be slaves who were constantly tortured and brutally forced to work, and we envied them!"


"What is it that you want exactly?" Primus asks.


"Who is it that runs this vessel?" John the Hermit asks.


"I do," you reply, looking briefly at Primus and the others for any signs of dissent.


"By what right do you claim to be leader? By will of the people, by democracy's gentle guiding hand, I am the rightful leader!" 


"By right of force," you reply.


"Ha! I'd wager my army of malformed brothers against yours any day! We have the numbers, we have the will, we have the power to take this ship!" 


"Did you come here to make threats and promise me you'll take over?" you ask, as your fists set alight.


"I came here to offer you a deal. John the Hermit is no leader. John the Hermit is a simple man. I just want a boost in our standards of living. Running water, good food, actual bedrooms, human rights!" he says.


"Primus, how much would that cost us?"


"If we were to raise the mutant standard of living to those described by John the Hermit, it would cost, and this is a rough, fluctuating estimate, twenty million thrones."


"That's doable, is it not? A few million Thrones to ensure your one at the head of this vessel? It's good, yes? I also want a place at your table, as an advisor, so I can continue speaking for my mutants. With this, we'll stay your humble servants."

You refuse

"No?"


"You'll regret this, captain," John the Hermit says, turning and waking back out of the room to head down to the lower floors.


You make sure there's extra guards to put off any attacks. Unfortunately, you're simply unprepared for the scale of this rebellion that takes place less than a day later. John the Hermit must have been planning this for decades, behind Kyros' back. Stores of ammo and weapons, hidden in stockpiles in the parts of the ship that hadn't been searched in millennia, are unearthed, as many of the functions of the ship cease as the mutants stop working. While your forces have better training, better equipment, better everything, as it has been said before, quantity has a whole quality of its own. The endless mutant hordes, entirely willing to die for their cause, all willing to martyr themselves as John the Hermit did.


As you stand in the war-room, surrounded by an army of mutants, burning dozens as lightning runs along your fingertips and psychic blasts kill all who could hope to oppose you, the mutants begin to overwhelm you. As their tentacles, hands and claws bring you down, tearing you apart, you have a brief musing about how similar this is to