Chapter Text
They say it takes a lot to know a man- they, an unknown group of beings from some unknown realm and when? Who knows.
Who even cares.
No one in his realm considered him a man. He is a monster. A word for a species that contained negative connotations. A word that in some places could be considered an insult- but that wasn’t important. What was important was, right now, as he maneuvered his magic with ease, he had so little need to focus the flow and much more capacity of attention that could be used for the world surrounding him. For his plans, his rage, the losses, the gains, the spite- the corpse.
No one can see it. After all, with eyes filled to the brim with a greenish glow who could tell where his gaze truly lied.
She didn’t see him coming.
While Ludo had droned on and on about his childhood in extensive detail when Moon had unknowingly provoked him with her genuine concern. Poor young, innocent Moon who had no idea just how pathetically damaged the runt was. How he abused and used and needed so much comfort he could never seem to find and when someone came by and offered it Ludo discarded it because if it wasn’t from someone he wanted to care for him the way he wanted then it didn’t matter. But once more; that wasn’t important. When he grew tired of the stories and knew Moon was sufficiently distracted and unguarded, the others of the Magic High Commission long gone in their search for Glossaryck and the Book of Spells, he took control of Ludo and made his move. He took extra care to draw out her powers as quickly as possible and absorb it as slowly as he could; draw it out, no rush.
Her eyes hollowed in a literal blink of an eye. It was as though he had never done the deed, but he knew he did it. He made himself acutely aware of it with the dull trickle of energy he took the time to make his own. Once upon a time, the thought of such an act would have been inconceivable. His heart would have ached. He would have cried, screamed, bled thorough the bloody organ that kept him living. Even in his last battle, with all the conviction he mustered, all the plans, all the rage- it was still hesitance that sparked in his mind when he came close. But he was a being of wisdom. It wasn’t just the age that made him learn, it was much more. That was why he did this. Took her down so fast there wouldn’t be time for hesitation, and drew her in to absorb the fact he’d did it, that he could. He could and he would again and again and there would never be remorse. Remorse was for the weak, for the uncertain, for those who wavered in their choices and his has been resolute for decades.
Moon was dead, is dead, and if it was up to him she would stay dead for as long as necessary.
A fleeting thought passes in his mind of when his plans fall through, when he restores the peace between monsters and mewmans (or at the very least makes the mewmans pay for what they have done) and the world is the way that would be best for all. Perhaps then he would bring Moon back, show her what he had done, what they could have done if they had worked together rather than let foolish concepts like family honor and moral values get in their ways. But that thought gets washed away in the currents of his mind; that wasn’t important. It didn’t matter.
By the time the others return she had long been left cold and he had enough leftover time that he could have had a sandwich if he so desired, but he’d much rather play games with the children and wait until they were all dead or until-
Oh.
They went with his second thought of reviving Moon. It was all falling into place and just like the last time he would draw it out, kill her quick or- no. “It’s better she’s back” he thinks as she gets up and actually tries to defeat him as though she can. Well, she didn’t earn the title undaunting for nothing.
So, so foolish.
“Tell Star…” He draws out the pause as the temple crumbles “I’m coming for my finger.” He watches her retreat. Even after she’s gone along with the portal he keeps his smile in place.
There are plans and places to go and beings to see. There’s no room for relishing the victory or remembering the past- or rather, there is, but he will not allow it. With the crystal still encasing the lower half of his proxy body and the half of a broken jewel imbedded in the hand (what does it matter, he can remove it whenever) he casts another portal of his own and floats through it to another dimension.