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In the end, they did manage to save the world, somehow. The realms were stabilized. The Devil was sealed away. Asra reunited with his parents. Against all odds, everything worked out perfectly, and Gunther couldn’t wait to explore a new era of peace and prosperity with his beloved.
Now, two weeks later, he can’t wait for Lucio to shut the hell up.
The man in question stands on the other side of the shop’s counter, seemingly oblivious to the look of weary disgust on Gunther’s face as he reenacts one of his “glorious conquests”. It’s anyone’s guess how he hasn’t been banished yet. Nadia must have a lot on her plate to forget about her war criminal ex-husband. Or, more likely, she’s actively choosing to focus her energy on literally anything that doesn’t involve direct interaction with him, like drawing up plans for public works projects that will hopefully undo some of the damage he’s wrought on this poor city.
Either way, Gunther seethes with envy.
“...so basically everything’s on fire, and that spooks the beast, which gives me the upper hand, so I take my sword, and I plunge it into its chest.” He mimes the act of skewering a large animal. “And with a final wail, the beast falls down dead at my feet, and that’s how I single-handedly saved the entire village.”
A self-satisfied grin spreads across his face as he finishes, and Gunther takes a moment to savor the blessed silence. Lucio waits expectantly for a reaction to his “heroic” story, a declaration of praise and adoration, perhaps. Instead, Gunther heaves a long-suffering sigh and massages his temples.
“...What about the villagers?” he finally asks.
Lucio blinks. “The what?”
“The villagers. You know, the ones you supposedly saved? What happened to them after you set their houses on fire?”
“Uhhhh…” Lucio’s blank stare confirms he’d completely forgotten about that. Sweat beads on his forehead as he tries to recall the death toll. “Well, most of them survived—”
He jumps as Gunther slams his hands onto the counter. “And what of those who perished? What of their friends, their families, their loved ones? Did you do anything to make amends for your carelessness? Did you?”
After some undignified sputtering, Lucio says, “I mean, I definitely— Well, okay, see, the thing is, I really wanted to—”
“Oh gods and graces, just shut up.”
He does, instantly. Gunther drops his head into his hands with a muffled groan. If he’d known it would be that easy, he would’ve piped up hours ago.
A sudden knock at the door reminds him that although he can’t see anything, he is, unfortunately, still there. He looks up just as a familiar head of white hair peeks inside. “Sorry for the intrusion, I— Oh. Is this a bad time?”
Lucio looks about ready to leap out the nearest window. Gunther hums. “No, come on in.”
Overwhelmed by the tension, Asra hesitates. Gunther doesn’t wait for him.
“As for you,” he says, shifting to face Lucio fully. “Countless innocents have died by your actions. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Lucio gulps. He opens his mouth, closes it, looks to Asra (who also seems very interested in his answer), then back to Gunther, and flashes him a nervous smile. “Uhh… Oopsy?”
Something inside Gunther snaps. His vision goes red as he hops the counter, passing over a cowering Lucio to go for Asra, instead. Asra’s eyes go comically wide, but he doesn’t move an inch as Gunther takes him by the back of the head and kisses him hard on the mouth.
After a moment, Gunther pulls away with an audible smack. He looks to Lucio, who gapes at him in disbelief, and growls, “Fucking oopsy.”
A pin drops. Asra, stunned speechless, can do little more than blush and stare. Lucio doesn’t fare much better, though he has decidedly less wonder in his eyes and more untamed devastation.
“Gunther,” he stammers, “how could you—”
“Get out of my shop.”
Lucio takes a surprised step back. “But—”
“No.” Jaw set, eyes sharp, Gunther stands his ground and says, “You destroy lives wherever you go, and you’re not sorry about it. I can’t do this anymore. We’re done.”
“Gunther—”
Magic sparks at Gunther’s fingertips the way exposed wire sparks electricity. He looks Lucio in the eye, dares him to keep pushing it. “I said we’re done. Now get the fuck out of my shop.”
Lucio pauses, failing to think of a quick fix, and when Gunther steps toward him, hand extended, he practically trips over himself running for the back door. As it slams shut behind him, Gunther’s shoulders slump, and he lets out a sigh of relief.
“Good riddance,” he mutters, recalling his magic so he can run his hands over his face, then his hair. “Gods… I need a bath.”
He makes his way to the stairs. Before climbing up, he glances back at Asra, still frozen in the doorway.
“You coming?” he asks.
The gears in Asra’s head creak. With an eager nod, he shuts the door and scrambles over. “Fuck yes.”