[HERO] reaches the top of the mountain and asks the Gods for a favor in order to defeat [VILLAIN].
The Gods comply for reasons they refuse to disclose. The day will now loop until [HERO] manages to kill [VILLAIN].
“Prepare yourself, death incarnate. Your reckoning is here!” [HERO] declares.
[VILLAIN] blasts [HERO] off the mountain.
There’s one big problem with [HERO]’s plan: [VILLAIN] is an immortal wizard and [HERO] is just a regular dude.
[HERO] makes his way to the top of the mountain again and throws out a punch before [VILLAIN] could notice him. [HERO] lands the hit on [VILLAIN]’s chin. [VILLAIN] blasts [HERO] off the mountain.
[HERO] makes his way to the top of the mountain again and steels himself to remember when and how [VILLAIN] will attack so he could dodge in advance. [HERO] rushes and [VILLAIN]’s palm starts glowing with purple mana. [HERO] ducks. [VILLAIN] aims lower and blasts [HERO] off the mountain.
“Look over there!” [HERO] points and [VILLAIN] turns to look. [HERO] rushes to punch [VILLAIN] on the back of his head. [VILLAIN] grabs [HERO]’s arm without looking and throws him off the mountain.
“I didn’t know you grew tulips up here,” [HERO] says.
“What tulips?”
“Tulips on this dick.”
[VILLAIN] blasts [HERO] off the mountain.
[HERO] punches [VILLAIN]’s chest repeatedly.
“Aren’t you getting tired of this?” [VILLAIN] asks.
“Not in the slightest,” [HERO] answers.
“How many loops has it been?”
“I lost count after we broke four digits.”
[VILLAIN] blasts [HERO] off the mountain.
[HERO] repeatedly stabs [VILLAIN]’s regenerating heart with the knife [VILLAIN] lent him.
“See?” [VILLAIN] sighs. “I can’t die.”
“I’ll figure something out,” [HERO] says while stabbing his heart.
“Why?”
“You’re a villain. I’m a hero.” Blood pools below the two of them.
[VILLAIN] has [HERO] tied to a tree. With a simple spell he implants all the world’s misery into [HERO]’s mind within a second. He repeats that for a few hours. [HERO] hangs with vomit dripping on his chest. [VILLAIN] locks eyes with him and realizes that this is pointless. [HERO]’s eyes show no signs of reduced vigor.
“Thanks for showing all that to me,” [HERO] says.
“I really don’t get you.”
“Doesn’t matter anyway. Even if I give up, time will still reset. I have to kill you. That’s the deal.”
“Good luck.”
[HERO] makes his way to the top of the mountain again and rushes [VILLAIN]. [VILLAIN] fires a blast in response and [HERO] successfully dodges. Time pauses for a moment and the two share a quick smirk. [HERO] jumps toward [VILLAIN] with his fists out and [VILLAIN] chucks him off the mountain.
[HERO] makes his way to the top of the mountain and [VILLAIN] shoots him with a potato launcher.
[VILLAIN] commands the birds to peck [HERO] to death and the birds eventually get tired.
[HERO] gets knocked to the side of the mountain and lands near a post-it note. It says “I feel like drinking, don’t you?”
[HERO] chucks a bucket of water at [VILLAIN]. [VILLAIN] stares in disappointment. [HERO] laughs awkwardly, “I thought maybe water could be your weakness.” [VILLAIN] slices [HERO] in half with a laser.
[HERO] throws out his fist—[VILLAIN] throws out paper. [HERO] gets blasted off the mountain.
“Okay, so we both draw a card from the deck and whoever gets the higher value wins. Aces high. Diamonds over hearts over spades over clubs,” [HERO] explains, “got it?”
[VILLAIN] nods.
They both draw and show each other their cards. [VILLAIN] got the two of spades. [HERO] got the two of clubs.
[VILLAIN] blasts [HERO] off the mountain.
[VILLAIN] has been launching barrage after barrage of non-lethal magic attacks at [HERO] for hours. He stops for a moment to observe how [HERO] is doing. [HERO] struggles to stand up but manages anyway. He’s covered in bruises and his knees are on the verge of collapsing. His eyes can barely stay open and his neck is having trouble holding his head up.
[VILLAIN] clicks his tongue. “Haven’t you had enough?”
[HERO] smiles. “You better bring it.”
“Sit down, Hero. I brewed us some tea. Oh, would you just—please. Why the fuck would I poison it; you know how easy I can fucking kill you, right? Just sit down and take a sip, fuck’s sake. Nice, right? Thanks. Yeah, well, I had to pick up a hobby up here. Killing you doesn’t exactly take up much of my day. Holy shit, man, just sit down. I don’t want to fight you today. Fuck’s sake, I don’t want to fight you any day. I’ve given you thousands of days, just give me this one.
“Look, why’d you do this? What did you actually hope to accomplish? Well don’t just shrug your shoulders, what the fuck. God. You’re all the fucking same. Hero types. Fuckin’ hall monitors, can’t stand any of you. I’ll never understand it. Do you honestly think this is worth it? Subjecting yourself to an eternity of death, for what? To stop evil? Congratulations, you killed the evil wizard, and now the world will finally know peace. You’re disappointing. More tea?
“Don’t you have a home? A family, a lover, a few friends? And you’re okay with abandoning them to be here? To spend an eternity eating dark energy blasts. How do they feel about this? Yeah, I didn’t think you asked. What was it like? Living in a quaint little town. Dinners with friends and families. Festivals bursting with camaraderie. Being in love. I fucking hate you. You had everything and you’re wasting your time dying here. I spit on everything you choose to be. Ah, but of course, it would all be worth it. I am death, disease, misery. You’re pathetic. Stay seated, have some tea, cunt.
“Did you even have anything planned in case you succeeded? What the fuck would you have done after? Go to the next mountain and slay the wizard there? Good luck, she’s a lot stronger than I am and she won’t be nearly as nice. She brews some pretty wicked potions. Business is booming, last I heard. All I do is write runes on stone tablets and show it to the people. Yeah, there’s a little bit of mind control magic in there. Who fucking cares. I’m just trying to get them to mobilize. We do what we can. Oh, you think you haven’t been exposed to mind control runes? You’re probably here due to some right now. Where did you hear about me? You smug self-righteous cunt. Just go home. You with your fuckin’ hair.
“Look, you want to save the world. I get it. Believe me, I do. Everyone wants to save the world; that’s the only reason to leave the nest. That’s why we swung sticks into thin air as children. That’s what everyone is doing. Everyone that’s buried in a textbook to prepare for an upcoming exam, everyone currently swiping right on dating apps, everyone that decided to get up early to watch the sunrise—everyone—all of them trying desperately to save the world. I know. It hurts. Because we can’t. At a certain point, you’ll happen upon death across an unnamed river and you’ll look them in the eye and you’ll just know. Have you seen those eyes, Hero?
“God, I don’t understand you fucking people. You had everything. You had a village of people who would have loved and cared for you, you had friends that were somehow able to look past your sanctimonious narcissist bullshit, you had the option to have a life and instead you’re here drinking fucking tea waiting for the sun to set just for another chance to save fuck all. I get it. No, I really do. More than you think. I get that it hurts. It hurts a lot. Every fucking day. It makes you insane. It leaves you no choice but to believe that if you pull the sword from the stone—if you travel through all layers of hell, if you live a life worth chronicling—then you’d make it stop hurting. You can’t save the world, Hero. There’s nothing to save it from. It just is.
“Oh, shut the fuck up. I’m tired of dealing with you. Slay me all you want. Slit my throat, if you wish. Do it from now until eternity; I won’t fight back. I don’t give a shit anymore. I don’t even care about getting back to the real world anymore. There was fuck all there anyway. But listen. If we ever make it out of here, go home. Just go home. Sit down, have some tea. Love your fellow man. Hug your friends and thank them for not being sick of you yet. Find a lover or reconnect with one, but don’t try to save their world. Live in it. Hold their hands and never let go—trust me, it’ll never be enough. Or, at the very least, just find a field of yellow flowers and sit in the middle of it. Watch the clouds tell their stories and listen to the songs the winds sing, smell the flowers confessing their love for the earth, taste the new day, and just celebrate the gift of finding a moment bereft of any pain.
“Slit my fucking throat. I’ll see you tomorrow, and you can slit my throat once more. Let’s spend eternity locked in a battle for nothing at all; let the spirits of our ancestors watch with foam fingers and popcorn. We’re out of tea. You can kill me now, if you want. Or I can go back in my cave, turn on the stove, and we can sit and drink and enjoy each other’s company for a little while longer. There’s really not much else to do.”
[VILLAIN] is sitting on the ground and refusing to fight.
“Are you still on your tantrum?” [HERO] asks.
“No.”
[HERO] shadowboxes in front of [VILLAIN]. “Come on, fight me.”
“No!”
[HERO] sighs and sits down. “Fine.”
“You’re not going to try to kill me?”
“We already covered this. I’m not about to fight someone who doesn’t want to fight.”
[VILLAIN] gets visibly annoyed. “So what now?”
“I’ll wait ‘til you want to fight again.”
“And what if I never want to fight again?”
“You’ll want to fight.” Hero starts tapping his knees. “It’s inevitable.”
[HERO] is flicking pebbles onto [VILLAIN]’s forehead. [VILLAIN] is doing his best to ignore him.
“Wanna fight yet?” [HERO] says while flicking another pebble.
[VILLAIN] doesn’t say anything.
“Come on.” Another pebble.
[VILLAIN] swallows his words.
“Your tea wasn’t that good.” Pebble.
[VILLAIN] blasts [HERO] off the mountain.
“Look, and here’s where I get these leaves,” [VILLAIN] kneels down and grabs a handful from the bushes, “the trick is to get the ratio of all these just right. These are the ones you grind, and these ones you leave as is and…”
[HERO] drifts off and [VILLAIN]’s words fade into white noise. But not out of boredom, the opposite. [HERO] finds himself mesmerized by the level of love [VILLAIN] seems to show his hobby—transfixed by his dirt covered fingers as [VILLAIN] moved both automatically and deliberately—movements that could only come from years and years of routine. Dry leaves and loose sticks littered his thick and wavy hair.
“Are you paying attention?” [VILLAIN] adjusts his large circular glasses over his red and freckle covered nose.
“No, not really,” [HERO] answers.
“You’re a real pill, you know that?”
“Never get tired of this,” [VILLAIN] says, looking at the horizon with his back leaning against a tree.
The sun sinks with purple hues, the sky like an incandescent light bulb and the clouds like colored wax. [HERO] hasn’t had much occasion to appreciate the sight before, usually he would have been dead for hours at this point. It’s nice. There’s a warmth being carried by the cold winds.
[VILLAIN] squeezes [HERO]’s shoulder for a moment then walks away.
Dew splashes from the grass as [HERO] and [VILLAIN] exchange blows under the stars.
“Wow, I never would have taken you for a biomedical engineering student,” [VILLAIN] says while blocking hits.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” [HERO] asks, refusing to relent his attacks.
“You strike me as an idiot.”
“Well maybe you shouldn’t be so judgmental.”
“How were you doing at school before all this?”
[HERO] trips and lands on his face. “Bad.”
“Right.”
“What about you?”
“Found a cursed book.”
“That’s it?”
“There’s some bells and whistles to the story but that’s the gist.”
[HERO] vomits and heaves for air. [VILLAIN] watches with tired eyes.
“I’m sick of this,” [VILLAIN] says under his breath.
“You think this is easy for me?” [HERO] stands up.
[VILLAIN] couldn’t muster the will to keep speaking.
[HERO] brings his fists up. “I’m not doing this because I want to.”
[VILLAIN] catches [HERO] as he passes out.
[HERO] punches [VILLAIN]’s cheeks. And punches it again. And again. And again. The two of them standing on a floating disc of rock in a whirlpool of celestial nebulae and debris. Each punch knocks blood out of [VILLAIN]’s mouth. Fragments of space and time escape the whirlpool, isolated moments manifest in the air for fractions of a second—the entire world’s history playing out like a silent film. [HERO] sends [VILLAIN] flying with a kick.
[VILLAIN] gathers all of his energy and launches an attack. [HERO] dodges. [VILLAIN] collects himself and tries to regain poise.
“Looks like the time loop’s reaching its limit.” [VILLAIN] scans his surroundings. The image of someone familiar collecting tea leaves flashes for a moment. [VILLAIN] takes a quick sharp breath to subdue the sudden striking pain in his chest. “Even the Gods can’t dissuade entropy forever, it seems.”
“Seems so.” [HERO] sits down and looks above him. Everything Villain once showed him to torture him was flashing in the whirlpool. [HERO] closes his eyes to block the visions. A time-lapse of countless suns and moons passing a twin-sized mattress forces his eyes back open.
“Think this is finally the end?” [VILLAIN] says, his voice dripping with hope and relief.
“End?” [HERO] utters under his breath. This was never about ending anything. [HERO] isn’t that naive. He knows there’s no such thing.