The Host sat in front of Victor and Nicole, an amused look on his face.
Nicole took a breath and looked at Victor, who still refused to talk—giving her the stage completely.
She laughed on the inside.
"Really? Still not going to try to make yourself seem at least somewhat sympathetic?" Her voice came out calm and cold, artificial. Her emotions were seeping through the cracks. "You're fully fine with me being the one to give context, even if it shows the real you? Where was that attitude back then, asshole?"
"It doesn't matter. People whose opinions matter already took sides." Victor's words came simply, followed by a sigh. He looked at the Host with bored eyes, as if urging him to move things along.
The Host pointed at the tape across his own mouth and shrugged.
"Rude. But fine." Nicole's shoulders squared. "It was context you asked about. To summarize—I lived on a somewhat massive island with quite a diverse population. Issue was, how do I put this..."
"That diverse population came from a very big war. One of the largest in the region of a thousand similar-sized islands, some even way bigger. The Custodian Wars." Victor calmly finished for her. "So to simplify—they don't get along. The city was basically a powder keg."
"It was decades! Things had calmed down before you lit the fire that had finally settled!" Panic seeped through her voice as her cube flashed to life.
Images materialized—a steel tower covered in glass, surrounding a complex metallic urban area like a watchtower. A city rose like a fortress ready for war. It was mesmerizing.
The images showed daily life. Different races, including humans. Some so alien they didn't even have limbs the way humans would recognize them. But in showing their daily routines, she revealed a city built from the ground up for war—bunkers and shelters everywhere, countless heavily armored guards in reinforced cars with glowing guns primed to fire.
"I created nothing. It was completely your work. That's all I did."
The cube instinctively flashed to an image of a gate she'd made, then to a certain book—
She instinctively shut it down, her breath coming faster.
"You bastard!" She lost her temper and nearly lunged at him—
Something stopped her mid-leap, holding her frozen in the air.
Immediately after, a snap echoed. Tape appeared on both Victor's and Nicole's mouths.
"Calm down and explain the context first before you get back to fighting each other!" The Host pleaded. The tape vanished, but the clown costume stayed there to his dissatisfaction.
The weird power started working its effect again. Both of them found themselves unable to resist. They started talking as if a reset button had been hit on the conversation.
"Hope it works this time," the Host whispered to himself.
"You know what—before either of you speak, dear guests, let me ask a different question that might make you relax a bit." He snapped his fingers. Music returned, but it was way calmer this time. Melancholy. "Why did you seek the Final Dungeon? What is your wish?"
Victor's jaw worked. His fists clenched.
"I want another chance. One that's cleaner, I guess. To wipe away my regrets. To know if you can turn back time." His voice cracked. "But if that isn't possible, then I want to win this war. My wish is giving me what I need to win. My power isn't enough and I'm not sure if there's still anyone—fuck, this power! I don't even talk like this!"
Victor went on another emotional speech before catching himself, face hardening as he forced himself back to normal.
"Haha!" Nicole's laugh was sharp, bitter. "It's kind of funny when you think about it—we were always quite similar, you know. We even talk the same way. Fucking laughable." Her expression twisted. "But at least I know how to let go. My wish is either to stop you or turn back time. If I can't do either, then I'll just find a way to spite you, old friend."
Venom dripped from every word.
They glared at each other.
The Host started sweating. Maybe putting these two on stage together was a bad idea.