The room was filled with the quiet snores of Lawrence and the gentle pulse of music coming from my helmet.

“Favorite color?”

“Pink. Yours?”

“Green.”

“Least favorite color?”

“Purple—specifically lavender, yours?”

“Oh, I thought it would be pink. Interesting… Mine is blue—specifically baby blue.”

“Blue? Hm. Okay,” I shrugged, “You’d probably hate our planet, then.”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

I nodded, “Anything you miss the most?”

“My wife. How about you?”

“…” I thought about the question as we played. Anything I miss the most…? “Not being pink.”

The Demon Lord chuckled, “Yes, you seem more affected by the fact that you are pink than the fact that you are severely injured.”

I shrugged, glancing down at the puddle of neon pink on the ground, my blood very reflective, looking back up at the chessboard.

“Hm… Do you know if finding a cure-all in these dungeons is even possible? You said you could grant any wish, but even you can’t do that,” I wondered as I moved my bishop. I was going to make it attack the queen next turn if the queen took my knight.

“It simply is not my expertise. While I could attempt, I am certain I would likely just make things worse,” The Demon Lord dismissed, moving his knight to protect his king from my rook instead, “If you truly do have issues of the soul, mind, or body, I have no doubt the cure will be found within these dungeons. The Drowwe are nothing if not willing to pamper a species before brutally massacring them.”

I hesitated after I picked up my bishop. I stared at the knight the Demon Lord just moved. Wait, wasn’t that the only thing keeping me from taking his king the king’s mobility? … I looked at the board. Then I moved my bishop.

“Checkmate,” I said, “Right? Yeah! Yes!” I stood up excitedly, my voice growing loud, “I DID IT! WOOHOO!” My fists rose into the air.

The Demon Lord’s lips twitched, “What?” He looked at the board. Then he stood up, flipping the table, “NO,” He snapped, annoyed.

I sighed, nodding contentedly, “So you’re a sore loser too, huh?”

The Demon Lord hesitated, giving me a tired look. His hand rose, fingers clicking together. Looking down, I saw I was red once more. My fists rose.

“Yay! I’m not pink anymore!” I cheered.

The Demon Lord harrumphed, slumping into his throne once more, “Very well, enjoy your life as a completely boring, sand-colored squishy piece of meat. See you in thirty years.”

I hesitated, “Huh? No, dude, we’re here to kill you so the dungeon doesn’t break and kill others,” I said.

The Demon Lord scoffed, “You? Kill anyone? Without magic, you won’t be able to scratch me.”

I hesitated, trying just in case. My bat rebounded, reminding me that one of my arms was broken, “Ah, fuck,” I fell to the ground, holding my arm, then I scoffed, “Tch. What if you give Lawrence the same deal?”

“With infinite retries, I’m certain anyone will eventually win out of pure luck,” The Demon Lord refused.

I shook my head, “No, just give him one. One chance, and if he wins the game you won’t defend yourself or use any magic to keep yourself alive or anything.”

The Demon Lord scoffed, “He would not be able to beat me in one game.”

I shrugged, “Then we’ll leave if he loses. Just fight off the break when it happens.”

The Demon Lord hesitated. Lawrence, who had woken up at my celebrations, jogged over. I glanced up as a potion was fed to me, my helmet lifted. I drank the potion, struggling as he fed me the entire potion, whimpering as I struggled to push him away. Lawrence, ever-so-spiteful, didn’t stop until the entire vial of liquid was empty. I coughed, gasping for air after swallowing it all.

Then I cried out as my bones snapped and cracked back into place, my spine and ribs reforming and my legs shifting—my cut nerves which had been preventing me from feeling pain reactivating. I writhed and whimpered for a moment, curling up.

“Ow,” I whimpered, slowly standing up, still sore, “That hurt worse than getting set on fire like five different times.”

Lawrence sighed, “We’ll have to go into one of the cleared dungeons to get healing potions. My stomach still hurts, too.”

“Tch, you couldn’t have said you weren’t fully healed before I elbowed you? I didn’t actually intend to hurt you,” I asked critically, shifting to slump onto the ground.

“Very well. Blue human, should you beat me in one game of chess, I shall grant you any one wish.”

Lawrence hesitated, then nodded, sitting down without much care on the blood-soaked chair, “You won’t defend yourself or attack us in any manner after I win.”

“Very well.”

A very, very short game of chess later—only about half an hour—, the Demon Lord disintegrated the chess board, fires spreading all around. Before they could reach us, though, pain seemed to wrap around the man, and he whimpered as he slumped back down.

I hesitated, feeling sick now that I knew he would actually die, heart aching and eyes burning at the idea of the demon being gone forever, “Wh-where are all the monsters? Will a dungeon break even happen?”

The Demon Lord looked up, expression changing from his disappointment and anger, growing softer as he looked at me.

“You wouldn’t be able to win against them,” The Demon Lord whispered quietly, shoulders slumped as he remained sitting.

Lawrence, uncaring of my emotions, uncaring of the Demon Lord’s, picked my bat up. The Demon Lord flinched, closing his head and lowering his head, knuckles white on his seat.

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BANG! The bat slammed roughly into his head, and his head snapped to the side.

The Demon Lord’s breathing became shaky as he half-chuckled half-laughed, “That hardly is hard enough to bruise me. This…” The Demon Lord flinched again as Lawrence swung again.

BANG.

My face twisted up as realization filled me. A creeping sense of disgust and horror twisted within me, and I swallowed down the bile that was climbing my throat.

BANG.

This would take hours. The Demon Lord had to sit there for hours and just take every hit. Knowing he would die. My breathing grew shaky as I inhaled a bit sharply, tears falling down my face, burning my flesh.

BANG.

“Oh my god,” I said quietly, throat so tight I could barely hear my own words, reaching out, “St-stop, what are you—“

BANG. I sobbed at the action.

Lawrence glanced over, wiping his already sweat-soaked face with his sleeve, giving me a hard look, “If we let him live, all of humanity might go extinct, Blood. It’s the only way.”

I stared, mouth gaping open as I stared at him. He shook his head, turning and swinging the bat as hard as he could once more.

BANG.

The Demon Lord’s hands were shaking, his knuckles white. His head was dipped, a small bruise forming on his temple, his eyes squeezed shut.

“This… is torture,” I breathed, flinching as Lawrence swung violently once more.

BANG.

I swallowed several times, but it wasn’t enough, and I scrambled away, pulling off my helmet. Bile escaped my lips, the half-digested sandwiches I’d been eating the past day and a half escaping alongside the liquids I’d been drinking.

BANG.

Swallowing thickly, I wiped my mouth, reaching out and grabbing my helmet. Not real.

BANG.

He wasn’t real.

BANG.

The wife he missed wasn’t real.

BANG.

His favorite color being pink wasn’t real.

BANG.

My shoulders shook as I cried, looking up. Lawrence’s eyes were dark and cold, his breathing heavy as he swung as hard as he could once more.

BANG.

My breathing grew unsteady, air suddenly hard to come by as I gasped. My heart was pounding, and my eyes were glued to the scene.

BANG.

Glued to the Demon Lord, remaining sitting on his throne, tears running down his face, a small, tiny trail of blood seeping from the bruise in his temple.

BANG.

Glued to the way he tensed every time Lawrence reared back.

BANG.

Glued to the way his lips trembled even as he pulled them back into a grimace.

BANG.

Seeing how every time he got hit, his eyes slipped open, the bright neon pink glow dimming slightly.

BANG.

Seeing how he closed his eyes as tight as he could every time they were forced open by the force of the bat.

BANG.

Watching his chest heave, his shoulders shaking.

BANG.

Watching as his grimace grew, his lips trembling as he quietly shook.

BANG.

His shaking matched with quiet, sharp gasps.

BANG.

His head jerked to the side, and he wasn’t able to stay on his chair, collapsing to the ground. His eyes were open, dazed.

BANG.

They didn’t close, this time. Remaining open. The glowing pink, interrupted by a black void of the man’s pupil unfocused for a moment.

BANG.

His pupils slid over to me, staring at me. I was shaking, and I could hear my own gasping sobs as I stared at the man.

BANG.

The blow sent him to the ground. Lawrence waited a moment as the Demon Lord pushed himself up on shaking arms, dazed as he leaned against the throne once more, not trying to climb back up to sit on it.

BANG.

“Maybe… I should not have been so—”

BANG.

The Demon Lord’s lips curled back, baring his teeth as he glared at Lawrence.

BANG.

“So arrogant as to think…” The Demon Lord cut himself off with an audible gasp as he flinched.

BANG.

“To think…” The Demon Lord chuckled bitterly, or maybe he was sobbing quietly.

BANG.

“That I was better than all humans, at chess,” The Demon Lord finished, staring at me. The silence haunts me for the few seconds it takes Lawrence to rear back again.

BANG.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered quietly, face likely looking horrified under my helmet, “I’m so, so sorry. Oh my god.”

The Demon Lord’s grimace shifted into a shaky smile.

BANG.

The smile was knocked off his face, pupils dilating for a moment as his head snapped to the side, his upright poster slouching.

BANG.

My hands tried reaching up to cover my face, but the helmet was there, and the squeak of blood-soaked fingers clawing at my visor reached my ears.

BANG.

The Demon Lord adjusted his posture, blinking a few times as he swallowed, eyes focusing back on me. They looked down and to the side, at the bile I’d thrown up. He reached out.

BANG.

His fingers twitched, arm falling as he blinked more, looking back to me, pupils no longer focusing, remaining dilated, the hot pink of his eyes only a rim around the black pupils.

BANG.

“You’re… a good—”

BANG. “Uugk.”

The Demon Lord was panting, shoulders relaxed, slouch slowly returning as he slipped to the side. His gaze returned to me as the bat retracted.

BANG.

His gaze was flickering, like he couldn’t quite see me, anymore. I shifted, my entire body shuddering with revulsion, horror, and hurt as I wandered closer. His flickering gaze focused on me, and his slack expression changed into a slight smile.

BANG.

The bat slammed into the demon’s skull with a ringing sound, drops of blood flinging through the air. Sweat dripped off of Lawrence, his jaw clenched as he focused on his task with intense focus. He pulled the bat back again, slamming it down into the demon.

BANG.

The Demon Lord was still staring at me, eyes unfocused and head tilted to the side. He was still breathing, but the skin on his right temple was almost completely gone, pieces of skin and hair sticking to the skull with a very, very small crack within it. Blood was pouring down the side of his face.

Were… were we really the heroes? Was this honestly the right thing to do?