The lava breath roasts me for hours before Bahamut finally pauses and turns away.

"I must feed," he growls, diving into the lava.

There are two types of suffering. Feeling the lava cooking me like a piece of meat until I'm charred black is one way of suffering. The second type is the burning, stinging, boiling pain that comes after. That's what I'm feeling right now. But a few seconds after the dragon disappears into the lava, I see something glowing white on my arm. The symbol—like the talisman the old woman had. It spreads a coolness across me, and all of my suffering ends. My clothes and everything I had in my pockets was destroyed by the dragon, so I'm naked, but I'm alive.

"Fuck," I gasp, feeling my vocal chords regenerate until there's nothing but a light tickle that fades when I clear my throat. I look down at my scar, and it looks different. It resembles a white-ink tattoo and shimmers a little when I shift my arm. "Was I… really meant to be the hero? Did I abandon all of those people?"

My head spins and I shake it. I was just a kid with big dreams. Not the ones I was having at night. Rock and roll. Superstardom. Women, houses, cars… After I took care of my mama, obviously. I never got that chance. I didn't know she was going to die. I thought she needed me.

I feel my knees shake and I drop to them. My hands go to my face. Who would choose a dream over real life?

The lava rumbles and Bahamut rises from it. He's holding a box, which he dumps in front of me. It's… people—and they're screaming. I turn and run as bodies fall from the box and land on the jagged rocks. Most of them die instantly. A young woman lands directly in front of me and her head cracks. I recognize the face staring back at me.

"L-Lana," I shake out. "W-what?"

"Does it still feel like a dream instead of real life, Hank?" Bahamut rumbles. "I can hear your thoughts when you're this close. You were meant to be my avatar, after all. We share an eternal bond."

The bodies finally stop falling, but not before I see my second grade teacher and the guy who asked me why I don't play the songs from my albums anymore. Bahamut's claw arches down and impales a small boy. I don't think I know him. A second later, he's in the dragon's mouth, joining with the lava like food mixing with saliva. It makes my stomach churn.

"I asked you a question," Bahamut roars. "Answer me."

"If you can hear my thoughts you already know it," I choke out. "And for the record, this sucks! It's fucking ridiculous! You send me to some weird place in my dreams and expect me to choose that over the woman who raised me? Over my mama? If you thought I'd ever choose that, then you don't know a damn thing about me."

Bahamut eats a few more people, and I do my best not to throw up.

"Destiny is destiny, and prophecies are prophecies," Bahamut growls angrily, crunching down on the twin girls who lived in the apartment next to me. "You ignored your destiny. Destiny is sacred. Destiny comes from a place even gods don't understand."

"Are you a god?" I ask, swallowing hard.

"According to what you're thinking right now, I should tell you I am, whether it is true or not," he rumbles. "You humans always favor deception, don't you? It's so ingrained."

"W-well, you look like a dragon," I say.

"And what does a god look like? Do tell," Bahamut rumble settles into a chuckle that shakes the ground. "You broke a prophecy. You ran from your destiny. You are mine to punish, and so I shall."

Bahamut eats a few more people and gets back into position. I see lava welling up in his mouth.

"W-wait…" I mutter, but the lava comes anyway.

When all you know is suffering, time loses meaning. I burn for as long it as it takes for Bahamut to get tired of burning me. He yawns when the last puff of smoke erupts from his canyon-shaped nostrils.

"I must sleep," he growls, then he sinks into the lava.

I slowly regenerate until I'm once again healed. How long does a dragon sleep? Don't some dragons sleep for—years?

"No," Bahamut roars from underneath the lava. "And shut up so I can sleep."

Fuck. He hears everything I think. Okay. Blank slate. Think about nothing. An empty canvas. Empty canvasses need to be painted, of course.

"This is supposed to be your punishment, not mine!" Bahamut roars, then he jerks from the lava and blasts through the roof of the cavern, flying through the opening he creates. I see the sky for a moment, then rocks crush me. Bones shatter and snap. Even my neck. This doesn't hurt as much as being roasted by Bahamut. I guess I'm grateful for that. I slowly regenerate and drag myself out of the rubble after several hours pass.

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"Okay, what the fuck," I mutter, staring up at the sky.

My thoughts are apparently so loud they won't let a dragon sleep. I'm sure my next round of roasting will be even worse. If that's possible. I look around for anything I could use to get away, but there's nothing. This cavern is sealed, except for the hole in the ceiling. That makes me wonder how long Bahamut was in here before he blasted the ceiling open.

I find a spot with a smooth piece of rubble and sit down. There's nothing I can do. No way to climb. Nothing to use to climb, even if I could. I don't feel the arthritis like I usually do, but I'm not the fittest guy to begin with. A steady stream of whiskey, cigars, and bar food hasn't been kind to me for the last couple decades. My passion was always music. I didn't make time for much else, even when I was young.

Apparently, my passion and my way of life was wrong—even before I turned into an alcoholic on the road and ruined my future in music. I was destined to step into some dream world? Destined to save it? Destined to marry that little girl once she was the raven-marked maiden, or whatever that prophecy said. It was a dream. Nothing but a fucking dream.

"Damn it," I grind out, forcing myself to stand. "Bocephus's mama didn't raise no fool and neither did mine. I'm not going to let some fucking dragon roast me for eternity if there's a way to get out of here."

I climb across the rubble and check the walls. Despite the grand exit, there's no way he has been in this cavern since the earth formed around him. Or fuck, maybe he formed it and I'm crazy, but I have to check. I get around the entire cavern, but don't find anything. Defeated, I slump back down where I was sitting.

There has to be a way. Dragons have power. I wasn't a nerd growing up, but my sister was. She played all sorts of weird video games. Dragon Warrior. Final Fantasy. I liked games where I got to beat people up. Not slimes, either. I wanted to roam the streets with a chain and kick some ass. Double Dragon style.

"Wish I had a chain right now," I mutter. "But either way, dragons have power. The old lady mentioned magic. Magic exists. That seems like an important thing to know. Hell, I've got a white tattoo-looking thing on my arm that glows and heals me. Of course magic exists."

If I was destined to be a hero, I must have some kind of power, right? Beyond the healing. I'm sure I wasn't going to save the world by healing myself after getting my ass kicked in every fight. I look down at my embarrassing body. I'm not much to look at. I don't keep the lights on the rare nights I don't stumble home alone. The old man mentioned training. Okay, so how do I train? How do most people train?

I start singing Montage from Team America, then spin that into Eye of the Tiger as I imagine training. What should I do? Push-ups? I think I'd need to start with wall push-ups, but yeah. I can do that. I'll train.

"Here goes nothing," I mutter, putting my palms against the wall.

I start pushing myself back and realize I'm a little stronger than I expected. I lower myself to the ground and try a push-up. I can do it easier than I would if I tried this at home, sober or not. I do a few push-ups and feel my muscles underneath the layer of skinny-fat. I keep going, focusing on breathing, and I'm still doing them when I hear a rumble in the sky that causes me to scurry back to the rubble.

Bahamut closes in, his wings flapping wide until he tucks them on his descent. He lower himself into the cavern and as he does, all of the rocks begin to lift. I don't have time to scramble away before I'm knocked to the ground, then a giant boulder falls on my legs and Bahamut laughs as my bones shatter.

"You just had to drop one one my legs, didn't you?" I mutter through clenched teeth.

"Yes, it was entertaining," Bahamut chuckles, then all of the rocks reform the ceiling like he never smashed through it.

I crawl myself around until I'm facing him. "I get that your pissed about me breaking a prophecy and running from my destiny. But surely I can still be of some use, right? I fucked up, but couldn't I still defeat the bad guys and save the people who are left?"

"No," Bahamut rumbles. "Once the ritual was completed, Elenos was sealed. My magic doesn't work there, which means you would not have my power. You would not be my avatar. Without that, you'd be a mortal man. You wouldn't last a week. You were foretold, Hank Nelson. Until you ran from your destiny and the prophecy went unfulfilled."

"You had the power to bring me here," I challenge.

"Yes, when your destined bride used her Dying Wish, it opened a seam. A small one, but I was able to step into Elenos for a moment, and step through the veil to your world as well. I even gathered your loved ones as snacks." Bahamut laughs again. "And a few others, because humans are delicious little treats."

"W-wait?" I blink a few times. "There are other people here? People you haven't eaten yet?"

"Oh yes," Bahamut chuckles. "I'm saving your sister for last. I'm going to torture her in front of you for a while before I eat her."

"T-torture her?" I stutter, the color draining out of my face. "But why? She has nothing to do with this."

"Because it hurts you," he chuckles again, the ground rumbling. "And hurting you in fun."

I feel a shudder, but try to regain my composure. I'm not sure my composure matters if Bahamut can read my mind.

"You're a monster," I grind out. "Is that why you wanted me to save all of those people? So you would have people to eat?"

"How dare you," Bahamut rumbles. "I would never someone who walks the Path of Bahamut. My followers are sacred. Not as sacred as prophecies or destiny, but sacred none the less."

"H-how do you know some of the people you ate weren't followers?" I challenge. "Can you even tell the difference?"

"Yes," he replies. "But I don't have to worry about that with people from your world, Hank. It was sealed a long time ago. I'm nothing but a myth in your world now, and it won't be long until I'm nothing but a myth in Elenos as well. That's your fault."

"So, you are a god," I deduce from our conversation. "You want people to follow you and worship you. That's what this is all about? I didn't fulfill the prophecy and you lost some followers?"

"I'm tired of talking," the dragon rumbles. "Time for more suffering."

The lava wells up in Bahamut's mouth and I close my eyes. I don't have to wait long for my suffering. The lava hits me and I scream. Agonizing torment resumes. Hours pass before it is time for Bahamut to feed. He sinks into the lava and doesn't return until he's done. I'm spared watching it, I suppose. That doesn't make me feel any better when the next torrent of lava comes. It continues until it is time for Bahamut to sleep, and once again, he blasts through the roof of the cavern, leaving me to dodge the falling debris until a chunk of it slams into me.

As I lay on the ground, waiting to regenerate enough to stand, it begins to sink in that this is my life now.

I ran from my destiny and now… I'm destined to suffer for all of eternity.

I don't even have the green eyes to keep me company anymore.