The prompt:

・❡・

Overlord's hand cupped his stubbled jaw and hid the grin plastered across his face as he scrolled down the chat log. Gushing out from the procession of bright red chat bubbles was a rather adorable request for a date. Overlord re-read the cluster of five messages thrice over before summoning the input feature of the dating app to reply. He inhaled deeply to steady his nerves, all he had to do was say yes. One well-deserved break from evil scheming never killed anyone.

He turned back to screen and spoke with newfound cheer, "Yes, definitely! I'll see you this Saturday. I'll bring my signed copy."

The words typed themselves onto the message bar and the pinged as the message was sent.

The projected screen bobbing before him flickered briefly as a new object entered his electro-magnetic forcefield. Overlord looked up from it to find his latest death machine dragging itself into his lair by its two upper limbs. The poor robot heaved and wheezed into the hall, towering over its puny creator like a beached blue whale, having lost its lower body to what looked like a lazer beam. The cut was precise and clean, its edges were still freshly ringed with smoldering orange metal.

"Rest now, 681, you did well," Overlord said, extending his palm and lifting the giant off the floor effortlessly with his technokinesis. On drawing his palm closer the bot followed the gesture, floating to him as if it were attached to his hand by an invisible string. As it entered the asteroid belt of several objects and electronic components orbiting around its maker, the bot was dismantled into metal scraps with a flick of Overlord's wrist. The technomancer didn't need to process the bot's memory drive to know who had cleaved his creation into two.

Psioknight had his gifts. He had his.

The robot had served its purpose of destroying a Council of Deviation research facility and planting a tracker on the vehicle used by their supers to escape. In his mind's eye, he could see the band of superheroes pick their way to one of the C.O.D's major secret headquarters. He smirked as the images of black mushroom clouds rising from the decimated headquarters began to form in his mind.

He should get off his device once in every while. He's lucky that Cinder's got some strong firewalls for a mere dating app, thought the technopath as he saw the three dancing dots near his archenemy's profile picture.

Psioknight, rather Casper Krauss was a very attractive man beneath the helmet and that goddarned smile alone would've murdered half the population of the city. It was a miracle why he was still single considering the number of fans he had thirsting over his alter ego on online forums. Overlord had been tempted to out his identity and throw him to the lions lurking in the Dark Webs, but the idiot had caught him off guard through the earnesty he displayed in his chats.

They shared several common interests apparently: classical literature, metal music, dogs, chess, criminal psychology, bladed weaponry and their smithing, AIs and so on. The bonding had reached terrifying peaks with Overlord finding himself sharing the existence of his precious Ignis Magna copy signed by its medieval author, thanks to a certain time-travelling super messing up. The man on the other side had gone into fanboying overdrive when Overlord had shared a picture, stating it to be a family heirloom from his grandfather side. The technopath even learnt that the super and he had similar tastes in partners, and had even dated the same person at some point.

And it actually made him feel something. Something that could be filed in the 'Reasons to exclude Psioknight before you erase the Council of Deviation's existence' folder at the back of his head. The first one was the super's refusal to involve himself in the whole Technomancer 'Rehabilitation' Project of the Council of Deviation. Psioknight had vehemently opposed the Project, condemning it to be inhuman and likening it to the actions of dictators long gone during one of their midnight chats. Most supers had protested, but none had stepped in to help their technokinectic counterparts.

That vicious Project had robbed a lot from Overlord: his real name, his citizenship, his powers for a brief period of time and a huge chunk of his memories. He had woken up homeless under a drawbridge, hugging his infant daughter and wondering why he had a crying baby clutching at his frayed, dirty jacket. Thankfully, he had decided against giving her to an orphanage and the memories revealing her identity returned to him overnight.

Oh, how the Council of Deviation had paid the price with their newest facilities across the continent. None of them stood a chance against his arsenal of iron monsters. The tongues that had ones hailed him as the Deus Ex Machina now whispered it under their breaths in fear of it reaching his ears. Technopaths who had gone into hiding, fearing for their lives had resurfaced pledging their allegiance to his cause. Overlord had gained somewhat of an underground cult following. He knew which screws to turn to get the citizens on his side.

As he saw the heroes land at their destination in his mind's eye, the app screen before him pinged happily.

【 that's amazing! 】

【 i've never been this excited for a date before. My friends are telling me to shut up cuz I sound like a dolphin on cocaine 】

【 i can't wait to meet you irl, Oliver!】

"There's that wretched feeling again, darn it," mumbled Overlord, rubbing his cheeks to calm the odd burning in them as he re-read Psioknight's message.

・❡・