The Roles We Are Given

Within a large construct seated as the stronghold of the greatest villainess organization of all time, there existed a large chamber that lay at the very depths of said stronghold. The walls consisting of dark grey stone contained many cracks as if they had experienced many years of wear and tear, despite the room having only been made in mere days. Within that large room, the only two discrepancies from the monotonous grey stone was a throne made from the same stone as the rest of the room, and a single tree that sits at the middle of the room: it’s orange and yellow leaves, slowly falling to the ground despite the season being spring, seemed to light up the room despite having no noticeable source of radiance on its own.

From the sole entrance of the room, the sound of footsteps could be heard. The sound echoing through the room as the one resident of the room patiently waited for the arrival of the incoming party. As the footsteps drew closer, the light revealed the owner’s face to be that of a young girl, her eyes colored a bright blue and her hair shone Golden. No matter how one looked at her, they would always see her as a hero. That sort of image was the first and only image that came into the boy‘s mind as hers came into view. Meanwhile, her heroic face which held a steady resolve quickly warped into one of wrath as the face of the boy on the throne came into view.

“You know I couldn’t believe it when Lance said that you were the one who did it. No...it’s not that I couldn’t believe it, I just didn’t want to believe it.” Extending her hand, a bright light began to take form as the color of silver started to shine through, materializing in a simple undecorated blade. “So please, tell me that I’m just misunderstanding something here. Tell me I’m wrong, Arthur!” She pleads out to him in anger as she points her blade at her longtime friend, where the two met under the very same tree that now lays between them. 

The boy on the throne smiled as she came into view, before stepping down the throne onto the staircase below it. “There isn’t much I can correct you on Morgan, but I will tell you that your trust in me is greatly misguided.” Arriving at the bottom of the steps, the two meet eye to eye, but the emotion loaded behind each of their gazes was not the same. “So indeed, let’s correct those misunderstandings.”

Motioning towards the tree in the middle, wordlessly, thoughts were conveyed to the girl as she roughly stomped onto the ground, creating a stone table beside the trunk of the tree. Arriving at the table, the two sat across from one another. Atop the table sat a tea kettle, wordlessly, the boy poured the contents into their respective cups before beginning their meeting, taking a sip from his cup, he smiles as he comments, “You do realize it’s called a tea kettle, right?”

“Of course.” She responds roughly.

“Then why does this taste exactly like coffee?”

“I remembered you hate tea midway through, so it's tea that tastes like coffee.” The girl responds without a hint of care for the nature of the drink.

“That’s incredibly sacrilegious. Besides, How does that even work?”

“Who knows? It just does.” She sips the contents of the cup, whatever it may be. “Besides, aren’t there more pressing issues to talk about than about the mechanics of drinks?”

“That comment would cause many to rile up in anger.”

“Not as many as the people that want to wring you by the neck and burn you at the stake.” Without changing his face, he continued to calmly drink his coffee, 

“I take it you’re one of those people?”

“That’ll depend on how you answer my questions.”

“Then by all means, shoot.” He extends his emptied cup, to which she grabs the tea kettle 

“Well then first. Are you Tyrant?” Referring to the moniker that has instilled fear into the hearts of many people, leader of the newly founded organization of villains which has ensnared the world in chaos for the past couple years. Filling his emptied cup, he takes a sip before answering.

“That indeed I am?”

“Second, will you ever stop talking like that?” Having found his tone to feel awfully foreign from her previously long time friend, although that position is now in question due to the fact that 

“I’m sorry Morgan, I’m afraid I can’t do that.” 

“You haven’t even watched that movie.”

“Gawain was kind enough to lend it to me.”

“Third,” ignoring his comment, “Did you kill my uncle?”

“Yes.” Calmly sipping the tea, he responded without the slightest hint of hesitation as the full brunt of her animosity washed over him, as well as half a dozen blades suspended in the air around him. “Your angry face is not cute at all.” Setting down the cup, Arthur lightly tapped one of the blades with his index finger. The metal started dissolving away, and eventually not a trace of its existence could be found no matter how one looked; this scene didn’t leave Morgan unfazed, as her expression warped at the scene. Seeing her expression, Arthur just held a smirk.  “You understand now right?”

“What exactly is that supposed to explain to me? That just because you have that sort of power, that you have to be my enemy?”

“Exactly?” His abrupt response caused her to fall into confusion, clearly unable to understand that simple reasoning that seemed to come out of nowhere. “That doesn’t make any sense. You’re the only other person who ever agreed with my sense of justice.”

“And that is precisely why I must be the one you stand against.”

“That’s not…”

“It truly is that simple.” Finishing his cup, he moves to refill it but finds that the kettle has long run empty. Giving up on having another, he sets the porcelain aside as he begins to explain. “The ability to erase anything I want, clearly that power can never belong to someone who wants to be a hero. It would cause too much fear, and everyone would seek to remove me as if I was a villain, so why not just be a villain from the start?” Before she can attempt to rebuttal, Arthur continued on. “Humanity’s greatest strength is its ability to create, whether it be weapons, art, if given enough time, any problem can be solved through the collective power of humanity.” Holding up the cup, he stares deeply at the simplicity of it, before letting it drop. “That is, if it ever bothered to do anything besides make more problems than it can solve.”

“You’re a part of that humanity too.”

“That’s a nice thought.” 

“So stop causing these issues and let’s go home.”

“Thanks but I can’t take that offer, haven’t you seen how unified humanity is at this point?”

“Yeah, from fear.”

“There will always be fear, even if I wasn’t the one piloting it, it will always exist. So why not at least make the most prominent fear in their lives a known one? A known fear can be fought as long as there is hope.” Hearing that last line, Morgan grinds her teeth as the words become clear to her. 

“I always hated how you always treated me as some sort of hero.”

“And what exactly have you done to change that image? Have you even looked in a mirror recently?” 

“Just because I became a hero doesn’t mean you have to be the villain.”

“If I didn’t, someone else will, and I’m too selfish to let my dear Morgan belong to someone else.”

“You’re unbearably possessive.”

“You think that’s an insult to me, but I’m rather proud of it.”

“So I just have to not be a hero anymore, your plan fails and you have to give up on this farce, and we can all go home and solve the world’s issues without this sort of nonsense.”

“It would indeed be a problem for me if you gave up.”

“Then this conversation is over.” Standing up, she quickly turns towards the place she entered in an attempt to leave, only to find that the exit that stood behind her was blocked. No...there wasn’t a single sign of the exit ever existing. There was no place where the stone wasn’t flush with the wall, and the cracks that ran through the wall all seemed perfectly natural, as if the exit never existed in the first place. Turning back she grabbed Arthur by the collar in anger and confusion as she screamed out. “What did you just do?” Arthur in response just calmly smirked,

“What exit?” this just seemed to agitate Morgan even more. 

“ANSWER ME ARTHUR!” To which Arthur simply laughed.

“It’s simple really, I just erased the concept of exits.” The shock of the full extent of what he could do caused her to loosen her grip...No, she never loosened it, she was absolutely sure of that. Why is it then that he was standing meters away from him then? Looking up, she saw Arthur seated upon the throne as he began to walk down the steps. In her hand, she held the same undecorated sword she had created earlier, and by the time she could realize what had happened, the two were eye to eye once again.

“It would indeed be a problem if you gave up, so let’s do this again, if you would so kindly pour the two of us some tea...or coffee, it doesn’t really matter to me.” Unable to say anything, the only thing she could respond with was the fear that was held in her eyes as she gazed upon him. “Let’s set the rules, convince me that I can give up villainy, or I convince you to keep being a hero. If you can convince me that we aren’t bound by the roles we are given, that’s when this will all end.” The leaves on the tree continued to fall despite the current season, as though time never changed for it. “Don’t worry Morgan.” She couldn’t even turn her eyes towards him without electricity running down her spine, her heart beat so fast that she almost couldn’t hear his next words as Arthur just calmly smiled.

“We have all the time in the world to finish our little game.”