Lord Maximum

Lord Maximum stepped up the stairs. His seers had lead him all the way to this point in the Tower, the endless structure offering vertical assent after assent through its paradoxical corridors. The desecrated rubble of the stone guardian blocking the top of the stairs lay smothered in shards by his boots. With his bulky armor and broadsword, he pointed it uptop and shouted with a booming voice towards the woman sitting on a jester's chair, a cowl on her head and rattle in her hand.

"Ellie! Duke of the divine, felicitous of forsaken fools! I am the apex march, you shall heed or I will come out swinging! Relinquish your crown!" He shouted, echoing in the abyss. Ellie yawned and looked up and down at him, 9' and with his hooded mousy acolytes. This was the blusterhead after her? "Apex march huh.." She pulled the cowl off her head and tossed it to Lord Maximum. It fell on his head.

"All yours bub. Get duked." 

"Hm?" The powerwarrior started to twitch. His armor swiftly cracked and fell to pieces by his wayside, and some strange liquid from the cowl soaked down his body, forming white paint, a red rubber soldier's uniform with golden buttons and Epaulettes forming at the shoulders. "What is.." his voice, now high pitched was silenced. The lips curling into a smile, with a shiny touch of paint. Suddenly his body finished remolding, sturdy and yet feminine. The female-shaped soldier saluted against her will.

"Well? Get marching." Ellie said. At her command, he- she was taken back, as her knee-high latex feet morphed into boots. Magic boots. They started to march, as if dancing. She couldn't stop, even as she went the other way. Ellie yawned and napped. When she woke up a few days later and went down, she visited a local kingdom, sipping in a cafe. Sure enough there the soldier was. Marching, dancing, and marching still. She saluted instinctively. Cadet Minimi panicked. "P-please, take these off! Take them off. I'll die if they don't stop Marching!""The feet, made of wood underneath with a rubber coating carried her through the streets. 

Ellie whistled, and an executioner came up with an Axe. "You want mercy? Find religion." She screamed. The axe came down, and in no time at all the soldier fell, inert. The executioner's axe had separated them. Her kneecaps, sliced clean off, legs gone. But she was at peace. "T-thank you." A series of rubber nuns behind her came to recruit her to a cathedral to do good works and well, help her find religion. 

But something remained. Ellie looked upon the boots cut from their owner.. they tapped and moved still. Marching, with no body. 

 On. And on. And on. To no particular destination or purpose.
 As Ellie watched these boots walk on their own away forevermore, she mused. 

Perhaps I can 'give' them purpose.. or help craft a body of their own... The possibilities beckoned.