I’m staring up at the most ridiculous villain’s lair I’ve ever seen. And trust me, I’ve seen a few. The castle is tall, black, and pointier than a porcupine. Lightning strikes in the distance. Not close enough to be dangerous, but enough to set the mood. Somewhere, a wolf howls. Because of course it does. Villains must have a manual for this sort of thing.

“You sure this is the place?” I ask the sword in my hand. I’ve decided to call her Aggie because Aggressive-Aggressive is a mouthful. And honestly, Aggie fits. It’s short. Sassy. Annoying. Just like the sword itself.

Aggie hums in that way she does when she’s being smug. “Oh, it’s the place. Look at it! Screaming villain vibes.”

I squint at the castle. It’s got towers. A moat. Gargoyles with glowing eyes. Very subtle. “You think they have a gift shop?”

“Are you expecting a doormat that says ‘Welcome, Chosen One’?” Aggie says.

I smirk. “What’s the plan?”

Aggie vibrates, like she’s gearing up for something dramatic. “We don’t go in.”

“What?” I blink. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” Aggie says. “We destroy the castle. From the outside. Efficient. Unexpected. Brilliant.”

I snort. “Destroy the castle? With what? My charming personality?”

“With me, obviously,” Aggie snaps. “Do you see any other legendary weapons around here? No, because they’re all too busy posing for statues while I’m out here solving problems.”

I shift on my feet, glancing back at the castle. “You want me to just… destroy the entire lair? What about Bob?”

“Bob’s inside, sure,” Aggie says, “but think about it. You blow the place up. The villain comes running out. Bam! You save Bob without having to deal with a single trap or monologue.”

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“That… feels like a stretch.”

“Is it?” Aggie asks, dripping with mockery. “Or is it genius?”

I tilt my head. “And how, exactly, am I supposed to destroy an entire castle with a sword? You planning to grow legs and karate chop the walls?”

Aggie hums cryptically. “Let’s just say I’ve got… options.”

I grip the hilt tighter. “Define options.”

“Maybe I’ve got some explosive energy stored up,” Aggie says. “Or maybe I’ve been holding back on showing you my true power.”

I groan. “This isn’t the time for vague nonsense, Aggie. Either you can do it, or you can’t.”

“Oh, I can,” Aggie says confidently. “But the real question is: Are you ready?”

“For what? To become the idiot who blows up a castle and accidentally kills the hero?”

“Details, details,” Aggie says dismissively. “Think of the drama! The villain stumbles out, coughing on rubble dust, demanding to know what’s going on. And there you are, standing in the ashes, looking like a total genius.”

“Or,” I say, “I blow up the castle, bury Bob under a mountain of debris, and end up explaining to the king why his Chosen One is now a pancake.”

“Pfft,” Aggie says. “Bob’s fine. He’s got plot armor. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“Me?” I narrow my eyes. “Why?”

“You’re overthinking it,” Aggie says. “Look, Greg, being a hero isn’t about planning. It’s about doing. Big, glorious actions that defy all logic and somehow work.”

“That’s your advice? ‘Stop planning and do big things’?”

“It’s my strategy,” Aggie says proudly. “And you’re welcome.”

I stare at the castle, weighing my options. On one hand, this feels like the worst idea I’ve ever had. And I once tried to make soup with a ladle as a pot.

On the other hand… it’s Sintra’s lair. It’s begging to be destroyed. Loudly. Flashily. Aggie-style.

“Alright,” I say slowly. “Let’s say I’m crazy enough to go along with this. What exactly do you want me to do?”

Aggie hums again, her tone smug. “Oh, you’ll see. Just swing me and—”

“Wait,” I cut in. “You don’t even have a real plan, do you?”

“Do you have a real plan?” Aggie fires back. “Or are we just going to stand here arguing while Bob is getting tortured?”

I groan, lifting Aggie to eye level. “If this goes wrong—”

Aggie interrupts with a laugh. “It won’t! Probably. Now, quit stalling. Let’s give that castle the old razzle-dazzle.”

I take a deep breath, tightening my grip on the hilt. This is a terrible idea. Possibly the worst idea.

But for some reason, it also feels… right?