I stared down at the ground as we walked, mind blank. I’d unlocked my class accidentally, having fallen over a paper that an orc had dropped while I was facing another. The music I had playing in my helmet was loud, and Lawrence was next to me. He’d just been nuking everything, practicing the very first attacking spell he’d managed to get.

He had complained about the music being very loud, but I didn’t care. I just told him to figure out how to make it so only I and my viewers could hear it, turning it up loud enough that even when Lawrence shouted I couldn’t hear him.

Love isn’t rescue, it’s someone to lose. I glanced over, staring at Lawrence. He had a book open in one of his palms, his brown hair floating around him as his eyes glowed a low, deep blue only slightly darker than his suit.

I looked away when he glanced up, going back to walking quietly. Lawrence sighed, returning to his magic tome of probability. I was kind of glad the apocalypse happened before I got to that class, I mused, having recognized the textbook.

While I appreciated probability, I didn’t appreciate the large amount of students—some of whom shared my adoration of probability—who left the classroom sobbing. Of course, I knew it was just the rude professor and his lack of willingness to teach the basics, but it still wasn’t something I looked forward to. Especially since I was certain it would have gotten in the way of my work.

Hesitating, I lowered the volume of my music.

“There was a horrible professor, for statistics and probability, when I went to college,” I said, slowing my pace and twirling around Lawrence so I was on his right and he was on my left, looking up at him.

He glanced up, closing the book, “You went to college?”

I nodded, “Yeah, I was in college when the dungeon apocalypse started. Had a pretty sweet gig at Kageson, if you could believe it.”

“Did you?” Lawrence seemed even more surprised, “I’d applied there, but I was rejected.”

“Oh, really?” I was just as surprised, “Was it your willingness to follow the law? The CEO doesn’t break the law and follows all the regulations, but he doesn’t appreciate people who would snitch just in case.”

Lawrence’s expression twisted, “Only people who break the law would have that preference.”

I shook my head, “No! I was super surprised, too! He’s really, really strict. The questions about following the law are all about loyalty, not about whether you’d actually do it! He severely punishes those who break the law. Like he practically enslaves them, it’s super fucked. I spoke to HR, and the guy who’s in charge said that if anyone openly says they break the law they aren’t allowed in, but that if they say they’d choose the law over Kageson they’d be rejected, too.”

“The… the CEO of Kageson enslaves people who break the law in his company?” Lawrence asked, sounding aghast.

I shrugged, “I mean, better than federal prison, right? They’re not actually enslaved, it’s closer to indentured servitude—I didn’t break the law, but I broke some company rules and ended up signing a contract I really shouldn’t have, so while it was great to work there and I was happy, I’m glad I got to leave. I had, like, no freetime. I had to work full-time. Not—“ I glanced around, realizing that Lawrence and I weren’t paying attention to our surroundings, “Not that I was doing anything, really. I was, um, the bitch of the legal department.”

“The bitch?” Lawrence asked, nose scrunching, “Like, you were mean, or…?”

I shook my head, “No, like I made coffee for them, delivered their papers, rewrote their legal papers for them if it got deleted in the servers, stuff like that.”

“Oh. That’s… old-school,” Lawrence said, “I’m glad I didn’t work there, then.”

I shook my head, “You would be one of the ones telling the interns to get you a coffee, not the other way around. Working for Kageson was great, I stole from accounting a lot.”

“No wonder you were forced into indentured servitude.”

“No—I mean, maybe—but no, I just stole their complimentary coffee and office supplies to use in the legal department. Oh, editors, edit this out. The accounting department of Kageson is terrifying, they were furious when they found out people were stealing their coffee. They stole from the HR department.”

Lawrence laughed, “Oh, basic office drama. With how you spoke, I thought there wouldn’t be any.”

“No, it was all office drama. Like I said, it’s great to work there. You give your loyalty to Davis—that’s the CEO—and he takes care of you. Like I saw a new girl break down and cry and he personally spoke to her. After which he fired someone who’d been there a decade for going against his rules of harassment. The legal department is always working, so being their bitch isn’t really bad, they just literally don’t have time to get up and make their own coffee. Like man, you would have… like… been his best friend. He would have loved you. You would have loved him.”

Lawrence grinned, glancing around. Five glowing comets of magic about the size of a tennis ball appeared, pummeling an enemy.

“Urkh,” An orc grunted out as it died. I glanced over to see the orc falling backwards, turning into dust.

“It sounds like you miss your job,” Lawrence said, his voice cheerful.

I shook my head, “Compared to this? It was great, but this is practically what I was born to do. I’m a firm believer that we choose our own destinies, and from childhood this has been mine.”

Lawrence chuckled, cheeks growing red, “Right,” He agreed softly, looking away, “Almost forgot you were you, for a moment.”

I nodded, reaching out and holding his hand as I looked forward and continued walking, “Mhm.”

A few steps later, I yelled out, “OH! MINOTAUR!”

“No, Blood—!” Lawrence sighed as I sprinted at the Minotaur.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

It roared. I roared back.

“Hello you big furry beast!” I cried out.

I leapt into the air, slamming my baseball bat into its skull as hard as I could. Its head exploded, my bat gone, and I landed on its muscular and furry chest. I stumbled, staring at my bat.

“My bat,” I said sadly, staring at the handle I was holding.

“Blood…” Lawrence sighed out, “Please, this…”

I turned, giving Lawrence sad eyes—not that he could see them, “My bat.”

His words trailed off as he stared at my bat. Then he carefully hid his facepalm by running his hand through his hair, shoulders shaking and lips thinning as he pressed them together. It didn’t work to prevent his amusement, and soon he groaned out, putting both his hands to his face.

“You broke your bat in one hit? I reinforced it to ten thousand times its strength! Just how strong are you?!” Lawrence complained, sighing as his magic reached out.

I watched as he healed my bat, the black metal twisting and coming together once more. I stared at the black metal for a long moment, eyes going blank.

“I’m stronger than a nuke,” I said quietly, doing the math badly.

A nuke was about ten thousand times stronger than aluminum-steel alloy, right? … Right? I thought about it more as I walked off of the minotaurs fuzzy chest, looking at the fluffy brown fur.

A nuke could destroy more than ten thousand buildings made of steel, did that count?

…

I shrugged. Yeah, close enough.

“So you gotta like make it strong enough to handle my strength, okay? Can you do that?” I asked as Lawrence knelt, pulling out his carving knife. The Arch Mage glanced up, brown eyes focused on me, his fluffy brown hair—a shade more chocolate than the minotaurs fur—almost falling into his eyes.

“Uh, …” He gave a blank expression that was very clearly a no, then blinked, nodding, “Yeah, sure.”

I nodded as I walked over, patting him on the back, watching him sprawl forward at the action, “Cool! I believe in you, buddy. Make something unbreakable.”

Lawrence grunted, pushing himself up, “Ow.”

“Sorry. 50% less?”

“99% less. You immediately crushed the bone into powder,” Lawrence murmured, magic wrapping around his shoulder blade, eyes unfocused as he healed himself.

I hummed, crouching and staring at him. He glanced at me when he was done. I carefully poked him, and he grimaced.

“More? Less?”

“Less. Half that and you’ll hit me as hard as you usually did, when we were civilians—taking into account my increased strength,” Lawrence muttered.

I hummed again, focusing. I very, very, very gently poked Lawrence.

“That for normal touches, and about 150% of that if you wish to hit me or pat me on the back,” Lawrence explained.

I full handed gently set my hand on Lawrence’s shoulder. He hesitated, his entire face going red as he hung his head.

“No. That wouldn’t hurt me even if I hadn’t Awakened.”

As Lawrence and I cooked Minotaur meat to consume, I kept trying to get the power levels right. Eventually, after the meat was all cooked, I got it.

Straddling Lawrence, a flash of horror and extreme embarrassment filled his gaze. I shoved him down, holding a large chunk of cooked Minotaur meat in my hand.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Lawrence asked hesitantly, like he didn’t want the answer.

“I’m deeply in love with you, we’re fucking right now,” I deadpanned, shaking my head in disappointment. Lawrence grew bright red as I chastised him, shaking a piece of the meat in my hand, “What did I tell you I would do if you didn’t eat enough?”

Lawrence’s embarrassment turned into horror, and he started struggling, “Blood! No, I don’t need—mmph.”

I shoved the minotaur meat into his mouth, “Sorry, what was that? Was that “you said you would get a class and pin me down, forcing food into my mouth until I threw up, then force me to eat my own vomit”? If not, your answer is wrong.”

Lawrence gasped for air after swallowing the meat thickly, juices running down the sides of his mouth as he stared up at me, tears falling down his face, “Blood, please—hmhmhmph,” He whimpered as another piece was shoved into his mouth.

“Pro tip?” I told him, “Don’t throw up. I’m not lying.”

“S-Sam, p-p-please,” Lawrence begged, tears falling from his eyes as he cried and gasped for air, his chest spasming.

I kept feeding him.

“You know,” I said casually as he choked and gagged on the Minotaur meat, hand covering his mouth and fingers gently plugging his nose, “When you said you knew how much you needed to eat to survive, that kind of reminded me of a friend I had…”

“Sam—!”

Another piece. I’d only let him breathe when his face started turning dark red. It wasn’t quite there, the patchy redness mixing well with his tears.

“I sobbed over her corpse when I woke up one day. She’d starved to death. She majored in medical science—specifically, in nutrition.”

“Sammy, please…” Lawrence sobbed, gasping for air, his eyes leaking tears as his entire body shook with his sobs.

“You know, I had to get dragged away by another guy. I owe him my life, you know?” I said casually as I let Lawrence breathe, his gaze focused on me, “When the cops arrived, someone else had been around. They beat that homeless person to death and called it a murder. She died because she was anorexic. You don’t know better than she does, Lawrence.”

“Sam—“

“No,” I interrupted venomously, glowering down at the man, “Fifteen years of college for her Doctorate, Lawrence. Don’t say you know fucking BETTER THAN SOMEONE LIKE HER!”

I shoved another piece of meat in his mouth. He choked and gagged, swallowing thickly as his entire face grew pale for a moment. His struggling halted for a moment as he tried stopping himself from throwing up.

Lawrence gasped for air, the juices of cooked minotaur meat dripping down the sides of his mouth. I glared down at him as I reached back, grabbing another thick slab of cooked minotaur meat, ripping a chunk out of it.

“Sammy, please, I don’t need—“

I shoved the food into his mouth. He whimpered and screamed as his hands came up, clawing at my own. Like last time, he gagged and choked, trying to spit it out. I covered his mouth and plugged his nose again.

When I spoke, my voice was quiet and even, the threat dark, “You’re anorexic, and if I have to do this every meal until I can hug you without feeling your ribs sticking out, then I will.”

“Please,” Lawrence begged, voice broken as he looked up at me through lidded eyes, tears falling down his face.

I hummed, thinking. Then I relaxed back. He looked relieved, and I spoke, “Okay. If you die of anorexia, I’m leaving the world to die with you, and killing myself to follow you into the afterlife.”

Lawrence hesitated, eyes growing wide and face growing pale.

“Haha, just kidding,” I said without mirth as I grabbed another piece of Minotaur meat, “She was very bright and cheery the day before she died. Said she’d gotten a job, that she hoped I could find one too. That things were looking up. If I actually did that, I’d be killing the world using your arrogance as the tool.”

The man’s expression crumpled, and he looked miserable, but he didn’t fight. The moment he stopped fighting, I just fed him silently, not forcing it down as I had before.

I stopped when he started gagging on the smallest of chunks—smaller than even a pill. Then I gave him water, and he looked sick, but he downed an entire bottle, wiping at his face.

It was quiet as we packed up.