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Cuphead isn’t scared.

Not at first.

Well, admittedly, he’s scared when he rolls those snake eyes and gets a hearty, bloodthirsty laugh from the Devil and a shrill cry of terror from Mugman. He’s scared as he and Mugman beg for their souls to be spared. He’s scared when the Devil gives him and his brother their task, and less than two days to complete it. He’s scared the whole way home, running just ahead of his brother, list of debtors in hand.

But once they reach home and spill the story to Elder Kettle in a tizzy, interrupting each other the whole way through, Elder Kettle offers a dose of calm and pragmatism that both boys desperately need. He’s not angry with them, he doesn’t even seem surprised. Even better is that he seems to know exactly what the boys have to do.

“You’ll need to do as the Devil says for now,” Elder Kettle tells them, “And in order to do that, you’ll need this…”

Cuphead has no clue where Elder Kettle got the potion from, but it doesn’t really matter. The isles are full of magic; half the people Cuphead knows can size-shift or transform completely, either whenever they want or when a certain condition is reached. There’s enough of Elder Kettle’s potion for both Cuphead and Mugman, and the moment the potion settles in his gut Cuphead feels a fire run through him. It doesn’t make him bigger, but it jolts the fear and nerves right out of him and fills him with an energy he’s never had before – a feat, considering his normal energy levels. It’s obvious Mugman gets the same feeling; his straw straightens and his eyes go huge as he feels the power spark in him. It doesn’t take long for the pair to get the hang of their new abilities, of the power shooting from their fingers and the parrying jumps they can now make. Soon they’re on their way, full of vigor and ready to take on the world – or at least take on the debtors.

First things first, they have to make it through the forest. They have to go deeper and further than they’ve ever gone before, and run into obstacles they’ve never seen before. It’s worth their while, though, at least for Cuphead. There’s coins about, and who knows when they’re going to need them? But it’s not all fun and games; Cuphead quickly realizes that he and Mugman can use their newfound power to kill. They’re both taken quite aback when Cuphead vaporizes a tulip throwing seeds at him. It’s not like they have a choice, though. The creatures in the forest are tough, and all of them attack the boys on sight. And Cuphead reasons that if they’re going to fight the list of debtors, they’ll have to get used to fighting – and killing – sooner rather than later. Even with their ability to kill, the journey through the forest still isn’t easy.

“Ouch!” Mugman yells after getting hit by a falling acorn. “These things won’t let up! Can’t we just go a different way?”

“No way!” Cuphead replies with a grin, shooting down a couple daisies chasing behind them (and trying to ignore the twisting feeling he gets in his stomach when he does it). “We could use those coins, and besides, this is fun! We can shoot power outta our fingers, Mug!”

“We’re still just little cups, Cuphead,” Mugman says, worriedly following behind his brother. “And you’ve taken some hard hits already, you oughta take it easy.”

It’s true, Cuphead’s gotten some blows, the same as Mugman has. But he’s not scared anymore. The potion has become adrenaline in his veins, and he’s never had as much fun as he’s having now. He’s always been a bit of a troublemaker, and the destruction he’s allowed to create now satisfies the part of his brain that wants to knock things down. Mugman may be worried, but he’s always worried, and Cuphead has learned not to pay him any mind. He’s on top of the world and nothing can stop him.

But his energy is flagging, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. The places he was hit still ache. And eventually, he slips up. He destroys a blueberry from a distance, but takes too long to make that distance. It springs back up and comes at him, ready to slam into him, and Cuphead can’t dodge. He hears the beginning of Mugman screaming, feels a part of his face crack with the impact, and then –

He’s on the ground, flat on his back, staring at the sky. He can only tell it’s the sky because of the color; everything is too blurry to see clearly. His lungs feel empty, and he reflexively breathes in hard. His hands and feet tingle, as though they’d fallen asleep. The whole of him feels muted and muffled, as though he’s underwater or trapped under a heavy blanket. Mugman’s face comes into view as he leans over him, and Cuphead’s vision clears enough to see the panic and tears on his brother’s face.

“Cuphead, are you okay!?” Mugman cries, a sob catching the edge of his voice. “Say something!”

“M…Mug?” Cuphead manages. His jaw feels tight, his tongue feels stiff in his mouth. He wants to get up, but he can only barely move. The only part of him not at a snail’s pace is his heart, which hammers a hundred miles an hour.

“Oh, thank god,” Mugman gasps, voice breaking in relief. “Cuphead, I don’t know what happened, I…I think you died!”

“Huh?” Cuphead asks. But the moment Mugman says it, Cuphead understands. No wonder he feels so slow, so numb. No wonder he had to breathe so badly when he awoke.

“Your face cracked, and I saw…” Mugman shudders at the memory. “I saw your soul. I saw it start to fly away. I went after it, and – and I parried it, somehow. The moment I did it shot right back into your body, and then you woke up, but for a minute there I thought–”

He can’t finish, he’s still too overcome. By now, Cuphead is finally able to sit up, finally shaking off the strange muffled feeling. But he still feels shaky and fluttery, like his soul is still getting used to being back in his body. It’s starting to sink in that Cuphead, for a moment, stopped existing. He feels cold. When he puts an arm around his brother’s shoulders, it’s partly for Mugman’s comfort, but partly for his own, too.

“No need to worry about me, pal, I’m a-okay!” Cuphead reassures Mugman, giving his shoulders a friendly squeeze. “Thanks to you, might I add! You really saved my skin!”

“I guess I did,” Mugman admits, managing a weak smile. He sniffles and wipes his nose with his arm. “Let’s keep going and get outta here.”

“You said it,” Cuphead agrees.

Cuphead’s scared, now. He hadn’t thought about this, hadn’t thought about the possibility of his own death. No child that grows up as happy as Cuphead has thinks about his own mortality. There’s an invincibility to childhood, that idea that death doesn’t come for you and the people you love. But the veil is shattered, now. Cuphead knows that death is possible, now. If Mugman hadn’t parried his wayward soul, that would’ve been the end. Forever. Completely. He feared for his soul when the Devil threatened to take it, and he fears for it again. He put on a brave face for Mugman, but he can’t imagine this getting any worse.

But it does.

Soon, the edge of the forest is in sight, the trial is nearly over. Mugman pulls ahead, timing jumps to avoid the toothy plants jumping up to bite and shooting down the blueberries as soon as they reform. Cuphead follows, doing the same. But neither of them notice the last mushroom in their path until it’s too late. They kill it, though Cuphead can’t tell whose bullets did it. Its last spore cloud, rank and poisonous, hits Mugman in the face the same way the blueberry had hit Cuphead’s.

The difference is that Cuphead can’t hear any cracking of his brother’s head, and that he doesn’t even have time to scream. Neither does Mugman. There’s no dramatics, no exaggerated faint. Mugman flops forward where he stands, hitting the ground with a quiet thud. A wavy apparition rises out of him, a version of himself with a spectral tail instead of legs, transparent and floating into the sky, leaving the motionless body behind.

Cuphead can’t name the sound he makes. A howl? A wail? It doesn’t matter. What matters is catching his brother’s ghost before it’s too far away to grab. He remembers what Mugman said before, and parries the fleeing phantom. It shoots down, zipping back into the body it just left. Cuphead lands next to Mugman, turns him onto his back.

“Mug, c’mon Mug,” Cuphead whispers; he can’t make his voice any louder. Mugman’s face is still, eyes closed and mouth slack.

The last time Cuphead was alone, he was two minutes old and Mugman was just about to follow him out into the world. Ever since those first two minutes, he’s had a constant friend, a man in the chair, a partner in crime, a confidante and other half. They’re part of the same set, and they always have been. The thought that Cuphead might be alone again, and alone forever, is so paralyzing that he can’t remember how to breathe. It feels like days that he sits there, kneeling helplessly over Mugman, praying for him to come back.

In truth, it only takes a few moments for Mugman to wake up. It’s obvious when he does; his body seizes, he gasps, his eyes fly open. Cuphead has to stop himself from hugging Mugman tight, lest he overwhelm him. He settles for touching his shoulder.

“Boy, that spore cloud caught you by surprise, huh?” Cuphead asks, cracking a grin. He’s not about to let Mugman know how scared he was – is. Partly for Mugman’s sake, partly for his own pride.

“C-Cups,” Mugman says, quiet as a mouse. Cuphead knows just how he feels, and he has to suppress a sob at the thought of his little brother knowing what it’s like to die.

“I know what you mean, now,” Cuphead says, trying to keep a grin on his face. “Seeing your ghost floatin’ around sure was something! But it’s back in there now, you’re all set!” He pats Mugman’s chest for emphasis.

Mugman whimpers, and Cuphead desperately hopes that he doesn’t cry, because if he cries then Cuphead will cry and then they’ll really be in trouble. But instead, he pushes himself up to sit with shaky arms, and Cuphead helps him stand.

“You’re a real trooper, Mugsy!” Cuphead exclaims, a measure of real emotion leaking into his voice. Because it’s true; Mugman just defeated death. If that doesn’t make him a trooper, what does?

But Mugman must not feel that way, because his face stays downcast as he rubs his own trembling arms.

“Let’s just get out of here,” he mumbles.

Cuphead doesn’t bother trying to lighten the mood again. Instead, he takes the lead out of the forest, with Mugman following behind. He can’t help but think back on the enemies he and Mugman had to shoot, now that he can fully understand what he and his brother made them suffer. But they were attacking them, everything was attacking them. Cuphead and Mugman have already died from it, and if they did once…what if they could again?

After all, this is only the beginning. They haven’t even collected a single contract yet.

Cuphead is scared.

He has never been more scared in his life.

~~~

The Root Pack is first on the agenda. Maybe fortunately, Cuphead and Mugman don’t know them very well. They do know them; most everyone knows everybody in Inkwell Isle. But though they’ve spoken before, they aren’t friends, or even really acquaintances. It’s terrible that they essentially have to take their most important possession from them, but what else can they do? Cuphead tries not to think too hard about it, and focuses on the excitement and adrenaline that fills him at the thought of using his new magic some more.

The Root Pack is surprised to see them, but not very.

“So it’s true,” Sal Spudder grumbles.

“What do you mean?” Cuphead asks.

“There’s been rumors floating around that you two were in The Devil’s Casino,” says Chauncey Chantenay, “Lemme guess, you got a bad deal?”

“Yeah,” Cuphead admits.

“We have to get the soul contracts of everyone on the isles,” Mugman explains, “Or else The Devil’s gonna take our souls.”

“Oh, this is terrible,” Ollie Bulb whimpers, already teary. “I wish we didn’t have to fight, b-but we can’t let you have our soul contract!”

“We have to take it,” Cuphead says, trying to sound brave.

“You little cups can try,” says Sal, “But we ain’t gonna make it easy.”

Amazingly, the fight goes well, at first. It’s obvious the group aren’t big fighters; all Sal can do is spit dirt and worms at them, which are easy enough to avoid. The same can be said for Ollie’s tears, which are so unobtrusive that Cuphead and Mugman hardly have to move out of their way. Mugman seems to feel a little bad about defeating Ollie, and Cuphead supposes he can’t blame him. But after what happened in the forest, Cuphead is glad for the change of pace. He feels a little better, a little less afraid. If everyone on their list is like this, then they should have the soul contracts in no time and no worse for wear. Cuphead is brimming with hopeful excitement as Ollie retreats back into the ground.

But just as Cuphead begins to regain his confidence, along comes Chauncey, and he’s not nearly as weak as his friends.

Chauncey is much more skilled, his attacks are much stronger. Or maybe he’s just fighting twice as hard, since he’s the last member of the pack standing to protect their soul contract. Despite how easy the previous fights were, Cuphead and Mugman still took a hit or two from errors in timing or attention. Chauncey wears them down further with his homing carrots and psychic beams – the latter of which Cuphead hadn’t even known he had, and neither did Mugman, judging by his surprise. Still, the brothers try their best, but Chauncey quickly gains the upper hand. And before long, Cuphead starts to feel every punishing blow.

It’s both sudden and a long time coming when Mugman goes down, hit by one missed homing carrot too many. Unlike last time, where the cloud of poison killed him without any outward sign of damage, his head splits open in half-a-dozen cracks as he collapses. Cuphead can't hold back a scream as he rushes to parry Mugman’s soul back where it belongs – ignoring the psychic beam coming his way.

Just before he reaches Mugman’s soul, the world turns off.

When he wakes up, he feels the same way he did waking up on the forest floor, limbs heavy and head cloudy. The first thing he does is look around himself, just in time to see Mugman jolt awake next to him. His head is whole and unblemished like it should be.

“What happened?” asks Mugman once he finds his voice. “I…did I die again?”

“I think so,” Cuphead admits, “But…But so did I. I tried to parry you back, but I didn’t make it.”

“Then how are we alive?” Mugman asks, a little pale.

He’s got a point. That should’ve been it for the both of them, just like that. The thought sends a jolt of terror down Cupheads spine. If they couldn’t parry each other’s souls, then how did they get back where they belonged?

“Maybe Chauncey parried them back in?” Cuphead suggests, sitting up to think.

“Why would he?” Mugman points out, doing the same. “If we die, then he doesn’t have to worry about us getting The Root Pack’s soul contract. Besides, how would he even know to do that anyway?”

“I guess so,” Cuphead mumbles, thinking hard. “Maybe our souls just…found their way back to us?”

“That must be it. But why didn’t Chauncey just…finish us off?”

He easily could’ve. He could’ve smashed them both to bits, pulverized them until their souls had nothing to go back to. If he had, he wouldn’t have to worry about losing The Root Pack’s soul contract. Cuphead tries not to think about it, tries to stop realizing how vulnerable him and his brother were.

But then again, why would Chauncey kill them? Why would any of the pack kill them? The Root Pack are decent fellows, and they weren’t all that eager to fight the brothers in the first place. Maybe they’re hoping that the boys will give up and let them keep the contract.

But they can’t. Their souls are at stake, too.

After a lengthy pause, Cuphead finally stands.

“We can’t sit here forever,” he says, trying for brisk and energetic, “We gotta get that contract one way or another. We’ll just be more careful this time!”

Mugman gives him a dubious look, but he stands too, and follows Cuphead back to The Root Pack.

Unfortunately, while Cuphead and Mugman were recuperating, so were The Root Pack. When they return, Sal is back in fighting form. He’s shocked to see them, though.

“You’re back, are ya?” Sal asks gruffly. “Shoulda expected that, I guess. No way The Devil’s lettin’ us off that easy.”

Cuphead doesn’t know how to respond to that, and neither does Mugman. Instead, they fight.

They have to fight Ollie again, too. But this time, they don’t take any hits at all, and restart their fight with Chauncey feeling strong – or as strong as they can. They’re afraid of him now, now that he’s killed them once. Chauncey himself doesn’t seem all that perturbed to see the boys alive again, and he sure doesn’t take it easy on them.

He kills them both, again. And again. But he never finishes them off.

In a couple of the fights, the boys manage to parry each other back in. Cuphead finds himself keeping track of how many times he’s died, and trying to do the same for Mugman. He wonders if Mugman’s doing the same.

“This is the first contract!” Cuphead shouts after yet another defeat, springing up in indignation. “Why is it so hard??”

“This is the first contract,” Mugman groans, choosing to remain on the ground.

Death gets easier to walk off every time, but it doesn’t stop feeling as big as it is. It’s probably good that it isn’t stopping them in their tracks as much as it first did; it means they can recover faster and get back into the fray.

When they finally defeat Chauncey and take The Root Pack’s soul contract, Cuphead has died seven times and Mugman has died eight times, including each of their deaths in the forest. That is, if Cuphead’s count is correct.

And there’s still sixteen contracts left.

Cuphead could cry, but instead, he tries to enjoy the victory while it lasts – and ignore the despair of The Root Pack, who’ve now lost their souls and are too weak to get them back.

“First contract, down!” Cuphead exclaims, giving Mugman a hearty slap on the back. “We can do this!”

“I hope it doesn’t get too much harder…” Mugman mumbles.

~~~

It gets harder, of course.

Goopy Le Grande is next, and it’s a little easier mentally, for Cuphead and Mugman have never even spoken to him before. Given that, it’s a little surprising that he doesn’t try to smash the brothers while they’re down. He must not have that kind of cruelty in him. When they finally get his contract, Cuphead has experienced death nineteen times and Mugman seventeen.

Ribby and Croaks are a little more familiar to the boys, but not by much. Cuphead and Mugman have spoken to them even less than they have to The Root Pack, and Ribby and Croaks’ penchant for brawling means they don’t feel too bad about smacking the cups around. They still let the boys go whenever they lose, but other than that, they pull no punches. By the end of that battle, Cuphead has died thirty-two times and Mugman thirty.

In between, they use the coins they’ve found in Porkrind’s Emporium. Porkrind himself welcomes them, but he doesn’t say much else. Maybe he can tell how exhausted the boys are, how down-trodded and scared. The new abilities they get help, but the biggest upgrade isn’t from Porkrind’s shop at all.

“What’s that building there?” Cuphead asks Mugman, already walking towards it.

“A mausoleum, I think,” Mugman answers, following along.

“A mauso-what?” Cuphead asks.

Before Mugman can reply, the pair come across a fish sitting on the bank of the river alongside the building, and startle her by accident. She gives a little shout of surprise at the sight of them.

“Ghosts!” she exclaims.

Cuphead flinches hard. After dying so many times, the accusation feels true.

“Oh wait, you’re real,” the fish continues, calming herself.

“Are we?” Mugman mumbles to himself, but Cuphead hears him anyway.

“When there’s ghosts afoot, you have to parry!” the fish tells them. “That’s the only way to stop a ghost.”

Cuphead shares a glance with Mugman. They already learned that the hard way.

Because of that, though, the ghosts in the mausoleum don’t hurt either of them once, giving Cuphead a boost of confidence. He gets another boost of confidence upon meeting The Legendary Chalice. She’s so grateful for being rescued and talks up the boys so much for saving her that it fills Cuphead’s chest with pride. Not to mention that she gives him and Mugman an amazing new magic power as thanks.

“It’s called a ‘Super Art,’” she tells them, “You can use it once you’ve charged up enough power.”

Cuphead’s excited to use the new ability…until he sees the next names on The Devil’s list of debtors.

Unlike the others they’ve fought so far, Hilda Berg and Cagney Carnation are friends to Cuphead and Mugman. Hilda is their star-gazing buddy when Elder Kettle is too tired to stay up late, and Cagney used to let the boys use his vines as a swing set when they were smaller.

“We really have to fight them?” Cuphead can’t help but whine.

“It looks like it, Cups,” Mugman answers, equally unhappy. “We don’t have a choice. Hopefully they’ll understand…”

The others they fought seemed to, once they explained the situation. But they sure didn’t like it, and Cuphead can only imagine how Hilda and Cagney will take it.

They decide to go to Hilda first, but before that, they get planes from Canteen Hughes.

“There’s some restorative magic in them,” Hughes says, “You’re going to need it.” Neither boy asks him to elaborate.

The idea of fighting in a plane is exciting, and Cuphead can almost let himself get swept up in the moment, almost distract himself from the reality of his situation and get excited about being a real-life fighter pilot. But then he and Mugman confront Hilda, and she sighs to see them so decked out, and it’s not nearly as fun anymore.

“You’re here for my contract, aren’t you?” she asks.

“How’d you know?” asks Cuphead.

“Word’s been going around since you beat up The Root Pack,” she explains, “Could’ve guessed you’d come for me eventually.”

“We’re sorry, Hilda,” Mugman says, tears in his eyes.

“So am I, boys,” Hilda replies grimly, and moments later, the fight is on.

Fighting in a plane is a different kind of adrenaline, a different kind of power. Everything feels so much bigger up in the sky, everything Hilda throws at them feels impossible to beat. She may care about the brothers, but she’s sure not going easy on them. Cuphead bobs and weaves around projectiles, and Mugman does the same, and maybe Cuphead’s constant watching of Mugman is what makes him the first to take one hit too many.

When he comes to, his plane is nose-diving.

“Pull up, Cuphead!” Mugman screams from many feet above. Cuphead can hardly hear him over the rushing wind.

Luckily, Cuphead manages to lift off back into the sky before he crashes, heart pounding dizzily after seeing the ground come to meet him so fast. He gets another taste of that terror when Mugman is killed soon after, soul flying out of the cockpit as his plane plummets.

“Mugs!!” Cuphead cries, rushing to parry Mugman’s soul.

The one silver lining is that, in a plane, there’s no way for a soul to fly too high to reach. Cuphead watches Mugman’s soul speed back into Mugman’s body as fast as his plane is falling, and keeps watching until Mugman’s plane begins ascending again.

Once again, he’s too busy looking out for his brother to look out for himself, and gets killed a second time.

When he wakes up, he’s back on the ground, slumped in his plane’s cockpit. The thing is, amazingly, not smashed to bits. Mugman’s plane is also fine, looking as if it coasted slowly to a stop a few feet away from Cuphead’s plane.

“Ugh,” Cuphead mutters.

“You said it,” Mugman grumbles.

“How come our planes aren’t busted?” Cuphead asks, “We must’ve crashed.”

“It must be the “restorative magic” Hughes mentioned,” Mugman says, “At least we don’t have to get them fixed.”

Cuphead nods, but he’s not exactly happy to be fighting Hilda again. Neither is Mugman, but what choice do they have?

Hilda’s not happy to be fighting them either, but she does. Again and again. She’s a tougher fight than everyone else the boys have been up against so far, and every loss feels like a loss for them all. They watch Hilda go from sad to frustrated to desperate as they keep coming back after every death.

“Why can’t you just give up??” Hilda screams at them in her crescent moon form, voice bellowing and angry but teary all the same. “You think I want to kill you over and over? You’re just children! Stop this already!!”

“We can’t!!” the boys yell back over the wind.

Cuphead wonders why Hilda gave up her soul to The Devil, but then he remembers how he almost lost his and Mugman’s, and decides he’s not one to judge.

Cuphead and Mugman have each surpassed fifty deaths by the time they get Hilda’s soul contract. She’s upset, but also seems relieved, as though she’s glad she can stop killing the brothers over and over.

They really don’t want to face Cagney, so they kill time by searching for coins in the treetops. They die a few more times there, but before long, there’s nothing left to do on the first part of Inkwell Isle but get Cagney’s contract. And, like Hilda, he’ll be expecting them. Cuphead feels sick, and it’s obvious Mugman does too, but as always, there’s no choice, no other option.

Cuphead is getting tired of having no choice.

Cagney is fundamentally a kind person, but that kindness is under a layer of gruffness and a temper that many don’t ever get past. But he’s got a soft spot for little ones, and that’s how Cuphead and Mugman got to know him. They’re too heavy to swing on Cagney’s vines now, but they still know him, still talk to him when their paths cross, still play around with his daisies sometimes (and the more time that passes, the worse Cuphead feels about killing some of them earlier). When the brothers go to meet Cagney, though, the gruff outer layer is back on, and he looks more intimidating than any flower has the right to be. Some of his little daisies are around him now, nervously twittering from behind his stem.

“Well,” Cagney sighs, deeply frowning, “We all know why you fellas are here.”

“We don’t want to fight you, Cagney!” Mugman exclaims.

“Can’t you just give us your contract?” Cuphead asks, practically pleads. “Please, we’re sick of fighting the people we know, we just–”

“Just what? Want to save your souls?” Cagney snarls, and both boys draw back at the sight. “What do you think I’m doin’ here, gettin’ ready to fight you mugs??” He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “You cain’t ask me to give up my soul for yours. I’ve gone through too much for that.” He shoos his daisies away, and a bit of softness comes back into his face. “Get gone, lil’ fellas, don’t want you getting hurt here.”

“Wait…” Mugman says, as if remembering something. “Your daisies were attacking us back when we were in the forest.”

“Hey, yeah,” Cuphead adds, realizing just how out of character that was for the timid creatures. “They don’t fight, they’re peaceful and friendly, they’d only fight if you…”

“…Ordered them to,” Mugman finishes.

Cagney doesn’t deny it. He doesn’t say anything at all. Just looks at the boys, cold and resigned. Cuphead’s stomach turns.

“I’m the one who saw you two at the casino. And I knew there was no way you little mugs would’ve stood a chance there.” Cagney turns his head a little to stare after his retreating daisies. “Didn’t know what would happen or what The Devil was gonna do, but I knew he’s been anglin’ for my contract for ages. So I told the daisies to keep away anyone talkin’ about soul contracts, and you two must’ve been loud enough for ’em to hear.”

“You sent them off to get killed!” Cuphead yells, suddenly seeing red. “You sent them to hurt us and we had to kill them! Don’t you care??”

Cagney meets Cuphead’s eyes steadily, cooly.

“You gotta do what ya gotta do,” Cagney says quietly. “You two oughta get that by now.”

They do. Cuphead hates to think it, but they do.

It’s Cagney’s fight where Cuphead finally loses count of how many times he and Mugman have died.

Cuphead always knew Cagney had a temper, always knew he had a mean streak, but he never really had to see it. Cagney has always been so fond of him and his brother, and careful to keep his anger in check when the pair were around to observe. But there’s no such restraint now. Each death hurts worse now, each crack and chip burns more, each time Cuphead gets back up feels worse than the last, and he knows Mugman feels it, too. Cagney is strong, fast, and the longer the fight goes on, the more frantic and feral he gets. Like everyone else, he doesn’t smash the boys when they’re defenseless, but that’s the only slack he cuts them. Every time Cuphead helps Mugman up and leads him against Cagney again, Cagney’s back to ruthless brutality.

“How many times do I have to kill you mugs before ya get lost!?” he screeches, face stretched in a stiff, angry grin, like a wolf baring its teeth. “You ain’t gettin’ my contract! I’ll die first!!”

He’s almost right. In the end, Cuphead and Mugman nearly have to beat him to death to get his contract from him. It’s their last contract for this isle, they’re one-third done with this nightmare, but they can’t enjoy it because Cagney is slumped there, eyeless sockets gaping. His daisies have returned to scamper around him in alarm, but Cagney hardly seems to notice.

“It can’t end like this,” he moans, “It can’t be over…”

Cuphead has to take Mugman’s hand with the one not holding the contract and pull him away. Mugman is crying, and Cuphead is trying his hardest not to. They’ve each got a few bruises and even a crack or two from the fight, and Cuphead tries to focus on the pain and not on the sobs threatening to clog his throat.

“We’re getting there,” Cuphead murmurs once they’re out of earshot of Cagney. “We’re getting there.”

“What happens when we get them all?” Mugman sobs, “W-We just give their souls away to The Devil?”

Cuphead doesn’t have an answer. He lets go of Mugman’s hand in order to wrap an arm around him instead. Though Cuphead wants to cry as much as Mugman is, he doesn’t let a single tear fall. He’s the one who started this, he has to be brave for his little brother.

His bravery evaporates when he and Mugman enter the Die House separating the first two isles and run into none other than King Dice himself. The pair haven’t seen him since he presided over Cuphead’s fateful snake eyes earlier today (was that really only a few hours ago?). Mugman shrinks back, nearly hiding behind Cuphead. Cuphead, for his part, puts on a brave face and marches up to King Dice, ready for whatever he’ll throw at them – or at least pretending to be.

“Relax, I’m not here to fight you,” King Dice chuckles. “Really, I’m surprised you got this far. We’ll see how much further you get.” With a wink and a spin, he disappears, and Cuphead is able to breathe again.

“I hate that guy,” he mutters.

“Me too,” Mugman agrees, still shivering.

“What’s he even doin’ here, anyway?”

“Maybe he’s spying on us. To make sure we’re keeping our deal.”

It’s very plausible, but that doesn’t make the idea of King Dice watching their every move sit any easier in Cuphead’s mind.

After they leave the Die House, they’re once again stopped in their tracks by yet another familiar person, this one much more welcome.

“Wait up, boys!” calls out Elder Kettle, “Goodness, these old legs…”

“Elder Kettle!” Cuphead shouts at the same time as Mugman. They both turn and run back to him, hugging him tight. Mugman starts crying again, and Cuphead nearly does the same, but somehow manages to continue holding back his tears.

“Oh, boys,” Elder Kettle sighs, hugging them back, “I know you’ve had a rough go of it.” He pulls back enough to see each boy’s bruises and cracks. “But I think I know how you can make things right.”

“How?” Cuphead asks. Mugman is still whimpering and can’t ask for himself.

“You two have already gotten so strong,” Elder Kettle tells them, “And the more debtors you fight, the stronger you’ll get. Eventually, you might even be a match for The Devil himself.”

“You r-really think so?” Mugman asks, finally able to talk.

“Us? Tough enough to fight The Devil?” Cuphead adds. Even after everything he’s been through, the thought of being so powerful is still exhilarating.

“Absolutely,” Elder Kettle replies with a kind smile. “You won’t be able to get close enough without the soul contracts, but if you can defeat him, then you may be able to destroy the contracts and set everyone free.”

Cuphead didn’t know he could feel so relieved. To defeat The Devil is a dangerous idea, but if it’s truly possible, then Cuphead can fix everything. No one has to lose their souls, he doesn’t have to ruin everyone’s lives. It doesn’t have to be over for Cagney, not for anyone. Cuphead and Mugman will still have to fight, but they finally have a choice in their task, a choice in how this ends.

It’s enough to have Cuphead skipping off into Inkwell Isle Two, brimming with newfound hope. Mugman, as per usual, is much less sure.

“You really think we can beat The Devil?” Mugman asks, twiddling his thumbs as he walks. “I know Elder Kettle believes in us, but even just the thought of seeing that beast again…”

“You bet we can beat him!” Cuphead exclaims, “If we keep getting tougher, then we’ll be able to defeat him in no time!”

Perhaps another reason for Cuphead’s newfound cheer is the isle itself, which contains the carnival that he and Mugman love to visit whenever they have enough chore money for fun rides and tasty snacks. It’s a nice moment of levity to run around the isle and see the sights…and it’s a good way to procrastinate what they have to do. But evening is already starting to set in, and every moment the sun sets lower is another moment the boys lose in the race to collect the contracts. They take enough time to get some food in their stomachs and decide to get one more contract before turning in for the night.

News of what the cups are up to seems to have traveled faster than they have, as the very first person they confront already knows why they’re here.

“You little mugs are in waaay over your heads, ain’tcha?” asks Beppi the Clown, giggling at his own comment.

“Why are we fighting the clown first, again?” Mugman asks, standing partly behind Cuphead.

“To get it over with,” Cuphead mutters, gritting his teeth as he readies himself for battle.

After fighting Cagney, someone they know and love, Cuphead decides that if he must keep fighting, he might as well fight someone he doesn’t know and doesn’t much care for. It feels callous to think that way, but if every fight hurts as much as Cagney or even Hilda’s did, then Cuphead and his brother will never get the contracts in time.

They die more, of course. Things slam into them with enough force to knock them down or, in the case of the roller coaster, run them over. Cuphead’s arm is smashed in one battle, Mugman loses half his head in another (and as much as his crushed arm hurt, seeing Mugman like that made Cuphead feel downright sick). Even when Cuphead wakes up perfectly unblemished after death, he can still feel where the cracks used to be, still remember where he was chipped. The way Mugman keeps rubbing his head after recovering from losing half of it suggests that he feels the same.

By the time the boys get Beppi’s contract, the sun is well-set and the stars are out. After the day they had, they’re exhausted. It’s hard for Cuphead to believe that everything was normal in the morning, that they were ordinary little boys with no magic powers, no soul contracts to collect, no deal made with The Devil. It’s hard to believe that it was earlier today when Cuphead gambled away his and his brother’s souls. It’s hard to believe that they’ve already taken six soul contracts, already fought so many people, killed daisies and mushrooms and woodland bugs. And tomorrow will only be worse. Once midnight passes tonight, they’ll have less than twenty-four hours to get the rest of the contracts.

Past the roller coaster they fought Beppi next to, the boys find a tucked-away clearing and a pool of clear water. They meet Quadratus in the water’s surface, and when he tells them how many times they’ve died, Mugman visibly shivers but Cuphead can’t bring himself to react. The number is high, but he knew that already. And it really doesn’t matter how high it is, does it? Dying even once is bad enough.

It’s too dark for Cuphead and Mugman to travel back to their home isle, and they don’t want to risk running into the people they had to battle earlier. Quadratus’s clearing has soft grass and a beautiful view of the stars, so that’s where the boys decide to hunker down for the night and sleep.

“Wake me up in the morning,” Cuphead tells Mugman through a yawn, settling down into the grass.

“I always do,” Mugman chuckles sleepily, “You always sleep in so late.”

“Ten in the morning is not that late,” Cuphead sniffs, “You and Elder Kettle are just weird morning people.”

“Sure,” Mugman says, too tired to argue. He looks over at Cuphead and smiles. “Goodnight, Cups.”

“Night, Mugsy,” Cuphead replies, smiling back.

It always takes some time for Cuphead to fall asleep, but Mugman is usually out as soon as he’s in bed. While waiting for sleep to come, Cuphead spends some time lying in the grass, staring up at the stars, listening to the crickets, and thinking about tomorrow. He’s surprised when he hears Mugman’s voice again.

“Cuphead?” he whispers. “You still awake?”

“Yeah,” Cuphead answers, turning away from the sky to look at Mugman next to him. “How come you’re still awake?”

“I…I’m terrified,” Mugman admits, and even in the dark, Cuphead can see how huge his brother’s eyes are. “We still have so much left to do, and we’ve already fought and died so many times…”

“We’ll be okay, Mugs. We get better and better at this every time.”

“But the people we fight keep getting stronger! What if there’s someone we can’t stop? Cuphead, you remember Cagney. He…he was willing to sacrifice his daisies to keep his soul contract. And he loves his daisies. They’re like his children. If someone as good as Cagney is willing to do something so terrible to save his soul – heck, if we’re willing to hurt people and die and take their souls to save our own, then what will everyone else on the list be willing to do?” Mugman starts trembling. “What’s going to happen to us?”

“We’ll make it, Mugsy,” Cuphead insists, reaching out a hand to grab Mugman’s and squeeze it tight. “It’s gonna be hard, but we’ve already made it so far. And if we really can defeat The Devil, then we’ll be heroes.” Cuphead lets himself smile at the thought. “We can save everyone. Cagney, Hilda…even Beppi.” That gets a chuckle out of Mugman. “We can save all their souls. Isn’t that worth it? Isn’t that amazing?”

“It is,” Mugman agrees. “I’m still afraid, though. There’s a lot that’ll happen in between now and us saving everyone, if it’s even possible.”

“Whatever happens, we’ll be together, won’t we?” Cuphead squeezes Mugman’s hand again. “We won’t be alone. I’m here until it’s over, but I can’t do it without my favorite brother.”

“I’m your only brother,” Mugman says, but he’s chuckling again, so Cuphead considers it a win.

They lay there in silence for a while. At some point, they both look back up at the sky, at those faraway stars and deep blackness that make them feel so comfortingly small.

“I feel better,” Mugman says after a while, quiet and sleepy. “Thanks, Cups.”

“Of course, Mugsy,” Cuphead replies. “Now we really oughta sleep.”

“Yeah.” A yawn. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

When they fall asleep, Cuphead is still holding his brother’s hand.

~~~

As requested, Mugman wakes Cuphead up in the morning, and Cuphead grumbles through the breakfast of carnival food that Mugman brings him.

“What time is it?” Cuphead mutters, still half-asleep.

“Not sure, but the sun is up!” Mugman answers, as cheerful as he is every morning. Maybe he’s getting some enjoyment out of Cuphead’s reluctance to fully wake up, too.

Either way, there’s soul contracts to get, and the anticipatory adrenaline that zips through Cuphead’s veins is enough to fully wake him up before the first fight of the day even starts. He and Mugman see Canteen Hughes again, and he gives them another weapon for their planes. Yesterday’s fights feel far away in time yet close in Cuphead’s body, in the cracks and bruises he still has from defeating Beppi yesterday. He wonders what fighting after many hours of sleep will be like, if he’ll need to take time to get back into the swing of it.

He’s a little alarmed to realize that no, the instinct to point his finger and shoot and jump and parry comes back as soon as he sees the first enemy running towards him. If anything he’s sharper than before, a little quicker and a little more strategic, and every repeated battle gets him and Mugman closer and closer to victory. Cuphead never considered himself a violent person before this; a little destructive, maybe, sometimes poorly-behaved, sure. But though he was always the kid who colored on the walls or broke things by accident or got into places he wasn’t supposed to be, he almost never got into fights. The few times he hurt someone it was never worse than a single punch or a shove to the ground, and it was only ever because the person had done or said something cruel to him or Mugman. Now, Cuphead is killing hundreds of living things, and all they’re really doing is trying to defend whoever Cuphead’s attacking. He knows it weighs heavy on Mugman, too; Mugman is too kind to be unaffected. And though Cuphead doesn’t like it, it doesn’t tear him up and stay in his mind like Cagney’s daisies used to. The more he kills, the more used to it he gets, and the more he wonders if that’s such a bad thing, considering they’re going to have to keep doing it.

The constant dying is starting to become familiar too, now – at least when it comes to Cuphead himself. He still can’t get used to watching Mugman collapse in a heap or get smashed to pieces. He’s taken a hundred hits rushing to parry Mugman’s soul back into his body without regard to the enemies around him, and from watching Mugman after the fact to make certain he gets back up. Mugman is much more careful, at least, Cuphead thinks so: He never seems any worse for wear when Cuphead comes back to life, and if he watches Cuphead recover, he does it with half an eye while keeping the rest of vision focused on the battle raging on. Much of the pair’s true losses, the times where they both die and have to wait for their souls to come back on their own, happen because Cuphead is on his last legs and rushing to parry Mugman back in before making sure he can do it safely. But how can Cuphead help it? That’s his little brother, his best friend, the person he’s known his whole life save two minutes who keeps keeling over or splintering into a dozen or a hundred pieces. Cuphead’s used to his own deaths (though the feeling of coming back still makes him cold, still makes him disconnected and numb and fluttery), but he could never be used to Mugman’s.

Maybe the guilt is a part of it, too. It never escapes Cuphead’s mind that he’s the reason he and Mugman have to do this, that he’s the reason they have to fight and die over and over, that he’s the reason they’ve become The Devil’s errand boys, collecting souls on his behalf like little grim reapers. The people they walk past between battles don’t speak to them now, don’t greet them or ask them how they are. They’re afraid, and maybe they should be. After all, they’re looking at Cuphead; the boy who sold out his own brother’s soul to The Devil for a chance at easy riches. Cuphead has been scolded by Elder Kettle time and time again for not looking before he leaps, for not stopping to think about the consequences before doing something reckless. He let himself get swept into the moment at the casino, let the smoky air and rolling dice captivate him, let the thought of riches drown out Mugman’s pleading and his own common sense. The Devil would never make a bet he thought he could lose, and Cuphead hates himself for not realizing that before he took his deal. Whether the dice were rigged or The Devil could see the future somehow, Cuphead doesn’t know. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is that it was Cuphead’s idiocy and recklessness that got him and Mugman into this mess.

It’s Cuphead’s fault that Mugman has to learn to fight, learn to kill, and learn to die.

And no matter how this ends, Cuphead doubts he’ll ever forgive himself for that.

The morning drags on as the boys fight their way through the second isle. They get a couple chances to use their new aerial bombs, but there’s not much fun in it, not when Djimmi the Great curses at them in despair after he’s defeated. Not when Wally Warbles screams at his son to stay out of the fight and not get hurt, and when Willy screams back that he’s not going to sit there and do nothing while his father fights for his soul. Wally and Willy make Cuphead think of Cagney and his daisies, and he’s relieved when that fight is finally over. Back on the ground, neither Beppi or Baroness Von Bon Bon are as punishing as Grim Matchstick, but even he seems to feel badly about how thoroughly he destroys the brothers in his fights. All three of his heads get sad looks on their faces when they can tell the pair are close to death, and Cuphead grows to hate those looks of pity. If they really felt that bad about it, then they’d stop killing him and Mugman. But Cuphead knows they have no choice. And even though Cuphead and Mugman have been given the choice to stop The Devil and free his debtors, they still have no choice in how to get there: Fighting, dying, killing.

At one point between battles, the brothers find another mausoleum and Legendary Chalice gives them another Super Art once they’ve rescued her. Mugman ends up switching to the new one, going for invincibility over damage-dealing, and Cuphead can’t help but be relieved. It’s a welcome respite during fights to see Mugman become impervious to damage, even if only for a few seconds. Cuphead, meanwhile, keeps using the energy beam; anything to end the fights faster. They also fight through a circus tent and funhouse to get more coins, and Porkrind is as quiet as he was before when they visit his shop to spend them. It’s an odd feeling to have an arsenal of weapons on hand, and to choose the best one for decimating an opponent – an opponent just trying to protect their soul, the same as Cuphead is.

Eventually, finally, they get every contract on the second isle and are able to move on to the third. King Dice is once again there to meet them in the Die House between them, with that same smug grin and same gravelly, smarmy voice.

“You’ve done better than I expected,” King Dice laughs, “I’m almost impressed. Go on and get the rest of those contracts, daylight’s burning and The Devil’s waiting!”

He’s gone as quick as he appeared, and Chuphead and Mugman walk silently into Inkwell Isle Three, without the energy to even say how much they despise King Dice (and Cuphead still very much does). Despite their exhaustion and King Dice’s comment, there’s still a lot of the day left to go. It’s not yet noon when the brothers step into the city, and good thing, too, because there’s still seven more contracts to get.

A lot of the people here are strangers. Elder Kettle reads the Honeycomb Herald every morning and the boys have seen Sally Stageplay on TV, but they don’t know much else. It makes things easier, at least, but only mentally. City people are tough, and city people trying desperately to hold onto their souls are tougher still. They’re used to the dog-eat-dog city life, and therefore they have little qualms about smacking down Cuphead and Mugman – but not none. Cuphead and Mugman continue to get sad looks or solemn glances mid-battle. Even when their opponents get carried away in the moment and start enjoying themselves, they always get brought back to earth, either by giving some grievous injury to one of the boys or by being defeated. It makes Cuphead remember Hilda, her despairing scream that Cuphead and Mugman are only children. Even the roughest people in the isles don’t want to kill children, but they don’t want to lose their contracts, either. Either way, the fact that Cuphead is being desensitized to his own death is now so known to him that he can’t even be worried about it anymore. Maybe it’s better that way, maybe it’s better he doesn’t get too attached to his own soul.

When they destroy a third batch of ghosts and rescue Legendary Chalice a third time, she gives them the strangest and most powerful Super Art yet.

“Your soul will separate from your body for a short time,” she explains, “And you’ll be able to control both at once.”

“That’s horrifying,” gasps Mugman.

“That’s twice as much damage,” points out Cuphead.

“I’ll keep using invincibility,” Mugman mutters, “I’d like my soul to stay in my body, thank you.”

Cuphead shrugs, and equips the new Super Art. Power is power, and maybe using it will make death feel less disorienting each time it happens. The first time he uses it is the first time in a long while Mugman manages to get distracted during a fight, mouth gaping as Cuphead’s soul, stronger than it’s ever been, leaves his body. It’s bizarre for Cuphead to be in two places at once, to keep track of his material and immaterial in the same moments, but it’s exhilarating, too. He’s more powerful than he’s ever been with the energy beam, feels stronger than he felt even in his biggest victories. When his soul returns back into his body, there’s a bit of vertigo from only having one self to control again, but it doesn’t feel like waking from death. His body is warm afterwards, buzzing with energy, burning to keep on fighting.

He does die later on in that same battle, and dying feels the same as it ever did. But as long as this new Super Art is the strongest attack, Cuphead will keep using it without regret.

The pier and the quarry are token to get through, and Cuphead and Mugman hardly need the coins at this point. There’s things to buy, but they have most of the necessary items already, and it’s not like they can carry everything into battle at once. But they get the coins anyway, and for a reason. Not to buy new things or see new places, but to avoid going elsewhere.

Because as the day moves past the morning and into afternoon, the brothers reach the point where they have only two contracts left to go: The Phantom Express…and Cala Maria.

A lot of the people in the city are strangers, but not all. Cuphead knows Maria, but Mugman knows her even better. Cuphead’s teased Mugman for his crush on her before, and Mugman has blushed and stammered and denied it, but eventually admitted it to Cuphead and shared every detail of their interactions. Maria doesn’t quite like Mugman back; she’s a little too old for him and Cuphead gets the sense that he’s not her type, but Mugman doesn’t seem to mind as long as she still likes him enough to talk to him. Maria is sweet but tough, playful but takes no nonsense. Mugman has told Cuphead before that he loves her for that, for her beauty but also for her strength. He once said that she could crush him in her fist and he’d thank her for it.

Cuphead doubts that’s still the truth, now that Maria might have to do just that. He could see Mugman’s heart break in his eyes when he saw Maria’s name on the list, so they put off fighting her for as long as they could. But The Phantom Express is located a good distance from the rest of the city on the train tracks, and both boys fear those tracks and the ghosts that haunt them more than they fear Maria.

“Mugs, I’m sorry,” Cuphead says as the pair get ready to fly again. It’s all he can think of to say.

“Let’s just get it over with,” Mugman mumbles.

When they confront Maria, she’s sad to see them, but far from tears.

“You boys have really made a name for yourselves out here,” she says, “I’ve been waiting for you to come to me.”

“I never knew,” Mugman says, struggling to be heard over the salty sea wind. “I didn’t–”

“Why would I ever tell you?” Maria replies, cutting him off with a grin that’s a little too sharp. “I actually like you little cups, would you have kept talking to me if you knew I made a contract with The Devil?”

“So did we,” Cuphead interjects, “That’s why we’re here.”

“So it is,” Maria sighs. Her eyes sparkle, not with tears, but something sinister. “Now I’m going to have to show you why sailors steer clear of my side of the port.”

And she does. Over and over.

She’s just as tough as Mugman always said she was, and just as ruthless as Cuphead always guessed. An entire ocean’s worth of fish jump at her command, and avoiding every obstacle she throws at them feels impossible. When they finally wear her down enough, they see the true extent of her power, see how truly monstrous she can be. Mugman turns green at the sight of her gorgon form – and then turns to stone, too astonished to get out of the way of Maria’s vision beam. For once, it’s something Cuphead hasn’t seen before, and though it’s not as terrifying as watching Mugman die, it’s close. Getting turned into stone himself is a bizarre experience; as dark as death but not nearly as still, not nearly as silent. It’s harrowing trying to squirm free of the layer of stone, all the while hearing enemies come closer and closer.

This fight is hard, harder than anything they’ve done so far, and it’s because the brothers know Maria, and because she knows them. She knows how much Mugman cares about her, and she’s not afraid to use that knowledge to keep her soul contract out of his hands. Mugman has always been so focused in every fight, nearly impossible to throw off or distract. He’s always been the smarter, more careful brother, and that shows in every battle he’s had. But against Maria, he’s as scatter-brained as Cuphead. He takes hits he would’ve been able to avoid from other debtors, and he dies more often, too. Watching his plane careen towards the ocean puts Cuphead’s heart in his throat like nothing else, and he’ll get so distracted parrying back Mugman’s soul and making sure his plane rises again that Maria can kill him, too. It’s an endless cycle of Mugman getting distracted, and Cuphead getting distracted, and Maria killing them both.

After what feels like their hundredth defeat (and for Cuphead knows, it could be), they decide to take a breather and clear their heads. By now, the afternoon is late, and it won’t be long until the sun starts setting. The Devil’s deadline is creeping ever closer, but Cuphead and Mugman are almost done, almost there. Cuphead’s mind is swimming, thinking about the previous battles and what he could do differently as he and Mugman sit beside each other on a patch of grass near the pier.

“We’re so close!” Mugman groans, uncharacteristically angry, “We’re so close to being done, and now…” He trails off into grumbling.

“We’ll figure this out, Mugs,” Cuphead tries to reassure him, patting his shoulder. “We’ve already gotten so far, we’re strong enough to beat her. We just have to figure out how.”

“I guess so,” Mugman sighs, glumly looking past the pier at Maria’s sunken ship.

Though the sun is still up, all the fighting and all the worry and all the dying has Cuphead exhausted. He decides there’s no harm in lying down for a bit. Then he figures he might as well shut his eyes, just for a few minutes. Before he realizes it, he’s fallen asleep there in the grass.

His sleep is amazingly dreamless, but he wakes with a start, afraid he’s slept too long. Fortunately the sun still hasn’t set…but Mugman is no longer sitting next to him.

“Mugs?” Cuphead says to the empty spot where Mugman used to be. He looks around himself, and doesn’t see his brother anywhere. “Where’d you go?”

He gets up and starts walking, calling for Mugman and listening for a response. There’s no way he’s gone far, but on the other hand, why would he go anywhere without Cuphead at all? Cuphead heads back to the pier, wondering if Mugman perhaps went there for some fresh ocean breeze to clear his head. He’s a little surprised to see Mugman’s plane, not next to Cuphead’s plane by Maria’s sunken ship, but some feet away up the dock…and he’s even more surprised to see a form inside it.

“Mugman??” Cuphead calls, stomach dropping as he runs towards the plane, the closer he gets, the more he can see, and the more his gut twists around.

It is Mugman in the plane, slumped back and motionless in the cockpit. When Cuphead finally reaches him, he can see the cracks spanning Mugman’s face, his black eye, and the damage to one arm; three fingers and a chunk of his hand gone and part of the arm crumbling away, so many tiny cracks that it might completely dissolve if Cuphead touched it. Cuphead’s seen Mugman dead countless times by now, but it’s been a long time since he had to see his death so up-close. It fills him with that same paralyzing terror and grief that he felt the very first time he saw Mugman die, back in the forest near home.

“Mugs,” Cuphead gasps, reaching out. The plane sits low enough for Cuphead to lay a gentle hand on Mugman’s cheek, gentle enough not to disturb the cracks there. He knows logically that the touch won’t help or wake him, but he hardly knows what else to do.

“His soul,” he reminds himself, “Mugman needs his soul, and then he’ll be okay.”

Cuphead looks up, and it only takes him a moment to spot Mugman’s soul floating up above. It’s too far away for Cuphead to parry it, and it’s swaying about in the air aimlessly. Just as Cuphead rarely ever gets a good look at Mugman’s dead body, he similarly never looks closely at Mugman’s soul. He sees it enough to parry it back where it belongs, and no more. But now, it’s here floating, just out of reach, and Cuphead can see the black eye sockets, the blank expression, the wavering, transparent form.

However, it soon becomes apparent that its movement only appears aimless. Mugman’s soul is slowly but surely getting closer to his body, though the route it’s taking is meandering and inefficient. Cuphead can’t help but wonder if this is what it’s always like when they’re dead and waiting for their souls to come back, if their souls had to make this journey to return to their bodies every time they both died.

Cuphead’s not about to let Mugman stay dead for any longer than he has to, though, and once his soul is in reach, Cuphead jumps up to parry it. As usual, it flies back into Mugman’s body, and in an instant, all the cracks and bruises on him disappear and the missing bits of his arm and hand grow back. A moment later, Mugman gasps, eyes flying open.

“Mugs, are you okay? What happened??” Cuphead asks him.

“Wha– Cuphead,” Mugman says, confused but quickly regaining his senses, “What are you doing here? You were asleep.”

Cuphead frowns.

“Yeah, and then I woke up, and you were gone.” Cuphead says, crossing his arms. “Literally! You were dead just now! And in your plane, right by Maria’s ship…”

“Ah…” Mugman mumbles, sheepish. He climbs out of his plane slowly, as though trying to stall. “Well, I mean…”

“You were fighting her, weren’t you?” Cuphead insists. “Fighting her without me!”

“Cuphead, look, I just–” Mugman exclaims, but cuts himself off. He’s twiddling his fingers, hardly able to meet Cuphead’s eyes. He may be the smarter brother, but he’s a terrible liar, especially when he’s already been caught.

“What the hell were you thinking, Mugman??” Cuphead yells, “Why on earth would you fight Maria alone!?”

“Because!” Mugman yells back, “I wanted to try it! I wanted to see how far I could get.” He huffs, trying to find the words to explain himself. “I mean, Cups, every time we fight her she really goes after me, right? And then I die and you get into a tizzy trying to parry me back, and Maria kills you, too. That’s been happening over and over.”

“And your solution was to fight her without any backup?”

“I thought that maybe if I fought her without you, I’d focus better because I’d know I couldn’t rely on you. And I knew you’d never let me try it, so when you fell asleep, it seemed like the best opportunity. But it helped!” Mugman brightens, enthusiasm leaking through his nerves. “I felt like I was making more progress than before, and getting more used to her attacks. I even got her to transform a few times!”

“Wait, a few times?”

Mugman immediately realizes that he said the wrong thing. His eyes go huge and he covers his mouth, as though he could stop the words from coming out after the fact. But Cuphead already heard him.

“Mugman,” Cuphead asks, anger slowly burning in his chest, “How many times did you fight Maria while I was asleep?”

“I…” Mugman doesn’t meet Cuphead’s eyes.

“How many times?” Cuphead speaks through gritted teeth.

Mugman says nothing. He tries to look at Cuphead, and almost shrinks back. Cuphead imagines he must look fit to murder; he sure feels that way.

“Fine,” he thinks, “If he won’t tell me, I’ll find out myself.”

Cuphead turns away from his brother and starts walking, almost marching, quick with purpose.

“Cuphead, where are you going!?” Mugman cries, following behind. “C’mon, Cups, let’s talk about this, please–”

“How many times did you fight Maria alone?” Cuphead whirls around to ask. This time Mugman actually does step back, cowed by the venom in Cuphead’s voice.

Once again, he can’t bring himself to answer. Cuphead turns back around and continues walking, and Mugman follows, pleading all the while.

Cuphead backtracks through the city, back along the pier past Captain Brineybeard’s ship, past the beach, past Rumor Honeybottom’s hive. It’s a long walk, and it’s not until Cuphead storms through the empty Die House that Mugman finally realizes where Cuphead is going, if the frantic pitch that enters his voice is any indication. Still, Cuphead doesn’t look back, doesn’t respond to Mugman’s begging or even glance at the people on the street they walk past, who watch the brothers with curiosity. He’s much too angry to care about anything but getting to his destination. He walks on towards the carnival, under the circus tent, past Beppi’s roller coaster and into the clearing they slept in the night before – the clearing where Quadratus resides.

“Quadratus!” Cuphead shouts as he approaches the pond.

“Cuphead, please–” Mugman begs, still following behind.

“This is your last chance to tell me,” Cuphead nearly growls, “How many times did you fight Maria?”

“Cups…” Mugman whines, but still doesn’t answer.

At that moment, Quadratus appears in the water’s reflection, and he begins to speak in his booming, echoey voice.

“Through all your battles and all–”

“No!” Cuphead interrupts. “I don’t need to know how many times we’ve died since we started. How many times did he die–” Cuphead points at Mugman, “While he was fighting alone, and I was sleeping??”

Mugman whimpers.

Quadratus pauses for several long seconds. For a moment, Cuphead wonders if he doesn’t have an answer, or isn’t willing to give it. But finally, Quadratus speaks again.

“From the time that you slept until you opened your eyes,” Quadratus says, “Mugman fought alone and perished seventeen times.”

Seventeen times.

Seventeen times that Mugman died alone, seventeen times that Mugman lost his soul, seventeen times that Cuphead wasn’t there to protect him.

“Cuphead–”

“Seventeen times!?” Cuphead yells at Mugman, vibrating with emotion. “You fought her seventeen times, while I was sleeping, just to test out a theory?? Are you insane? Is there a crack still in your head somewhere?? There must be, for you to willingly go get yourself killed that many times!”

“Oh, don’t give me that!!” Mugman snaps, suddenly matching Cuphead’s fire. “As if the number of times we’ve died even matters to you anymore!”

“What’s that supposed to mean??”

“It means you’ve been different since this started! We both have, but you’ve been so much worse! Every time we lose a fight it’s because you’re too busy watching me to protect yourself–”

“Clearly someone has to!”

“Shut up and listen to me!!” Mugman screams, louder and angrier than Cuphead has ever heard him sound before. He’s stunned silent as Mugman continues, trembling from the force of his own rage. “You don’t have any self-preservation. You get killed so often because you’re focused on me instead of yourself. And it’s not just that! When Quadratus told us how many times we’ve died, you didn’t even react. When Legendary Chalice gave us that new Super Art, you weren’t even fazed by it, like losing your soul didn’t even matter to you anymore. And this whole time, you’ve been so, so…stony.”

“What the hell does that mean??” Cuphead yells when he regains his voice, trying not to think about how true Mugman’s observations are. It doesn’t make him any less enraged.

“It means you try to smile whenever I’m sad, but whenever you don’t know I’m looking at you, you have this look on your face like you’re never gonna smile again! You’re always the one being optimistic when things are tough, but I know you well enough to see how fake it is! Every time we fight and every time we lose, I can see you getting further and further away.”

“And how was you going out and fighting and dying alone supposed to help with that??”

“Well shoot, Cuphead, it’s no secret that fighting Maria is harder because I like her so much and she knows me so well! So forgive me for trying to figure out a way to actually focus during the fight and not get us both killed every single time!!”

“It’s not your fault that she’s beaten us, she’s just tough, you know that better than me!”

“It is my fault, do you think I don’t know that?? Do you think I don’t know how much I’ve been slipping up against her? Sue me for finding a way to practice actually focusing so we don’t keep dying!”

“It’s not your job to sacrifice yourself just so we can get a leg up! I’m the one who got us into this mess in the first place, I’m the one who gambled our souls, this isn’t your responsibility, Mugman!!”

The words hang in the air for a long, long moment before Cuphead realizes what he’s just said and claps his hands over his mouth. Mugman’s jaw drops, all the anger in him dissolves before Cuphead’s eyes.

“Cuppy…” Mugman murmurs. He takes a step forward, closer to Cuphead.

Cuphead’s hands stay over his mouth. He’s still shaking, but not from anger anymore. His eyes are burning. Before Mugman can touch him, he turns tail and runs.

“Cuphead!!” Mugman yells after him, giving chase.

But Cuphead has a head start, and he hides away under one of the circus tents, in a dark, hidden corner. His heart beats a mile a minute in his chest, his mind races even faster.

He never meant to say that out loud. He never meant to give words to his guilt. He never meant to put that burden on Mugman.

It wasn’t when The Devil threatened to take his soul, it wasn’t when he or Mugman died for the first time, it wasn’t when he had to beat Cagney into the ground. It’s right now, under this circus tent, with Mugman calling his name in the distance, that Cuphead finally breaks down. Every sob he’s held back, every tear he didn’t shed, every wail he’s stuffed back into his chest comes out so forcefully he almost chokes. He knows he’s being loud, that Mugman will hear him and find him if he doesn’t quiet down, but he can’t stop the deluge now that it’s begun. He can’t think about being quiet when he can hardly even breathe through his tears.

Naturally, it’s not long before he hears familiar footsteps run up to him, then slow down. Cuphead is crying too hard to even look up, and a part of him still doesn’t want to let his little brother see his tears. He expects Mugman to say something, but he doesn’t. Instead, he walks quietly over, and Cuphead feels Mugman sit behind him, back to back. Mugman is silent for a few moments more, until he finally speaks.

“Is that really how you feel?” he asks, so quiet he’s almost inaudible under Cuphead’s sobs.

“It’s true, i-isn’t it?” Cuphead wails, “I’m the one wh-who made that bet, I’m the one who w-wanted to go into the casino! It’s my fault we h-have to do all this!”

Mugman seems to think for a long moment.

“Yeah,” he admits, “But you know…I could’ve stopped you. I could’ve refused to go into the casino. I know you, and I know that if I hadn’t gone in, you might have gone in anyway, but you wouldn’t have stayed for long without me. But I was too afraid to look like a chicken, so I went in with you. And when I saw you getting carried away, I…I let myself get carried away, too, so I wouldn’t feel so scared. I snapped out of it when The Devil showed up, but at any point before that, I could’ve gotten us out of there if I’d been braver. But I didn’t.” Mugman reaches one hand behind himself, and Cuphead takes one hand away from his face almost instinctively to let Mugman hold it. “If this is your fault, then it’s my fault, too. You were reckless, and I was a coward. But we’re in this mess together, didn’t you tell me that last night?” He squeezes Cuphead’s hand. “I’m here until it’s over, just as much as you are.”

Cuphead sobs all the more as Mugman’s words sink in. He pulls his hand out of Mugman’s, only so he can twist around and hug him, desperate for comfort. Mugman lets him do it, lets Cuphead cry into his shirt and hugs him tight. Cuphead remembers doing the same for Mugman so many times when they were little, back when Mugman was shy and timid and scared of everything, so maybe it’s fitting that Mugman is the one comforting Cuphead now. Cuphead was so afraid to let Mugman see his tears, so afraid of adding to Mugman’s burden, that he ignored his own burden. But maybe this was what both of them needed this whole time.

It takes a while for Cuphead’s tears to subside, but Mugman is unwavering the whole time, quiet and gentle. Eventually, Cuphead finally speaks again.

“Mugs?”

“Yeah, Cups?”

Cuphead pulls away from Mugman’s tight hug to look him in the eyes.

“You’re not a coward,” he says, “You’re the bravest person I know.”

It’s true. Maybe Mugman was timid when the two were little, but he’s grown so much over the years, and even over the past day.

“Shucks,” Mugman mumbles, ducking his head a little but grinning at the praise. “But thank you. That…means a lot to me.”

“You’re a little too brave, now,” Cuphead says, “Please don’t fight anyone by yourself anymore?”

“Now you know how I feel when you get reckless,” Mugman chuckles, but his tone is warm. “I won’t, I promise. And I’m sorry I scared you. But can you promise to look after yourself more when we fight?”

“Yeah, I promise. I’m sorry I’ve been scaring you, too,” Cuphead says, and he means all of it. He pauses a moment. “We should probably get back to it, huh?”

“Probably,” Mugman agrees, “Only Maria and one more after that, and we’ll have them all, and this will be over.”

“We also have to fight The Devil.”

“Oh, right. Well…at least we’ve had a lot of practice.”

Cuphead laughs as Mugman stands. Mugman offers Cuphead a hand to help him up, and Cuphead takes it, using it as an opportunity for one last hug.

“I love you, Mugsy,” Cuphead says, voice quiet and unused to saying those words out loud. “You’re the best brother anyone could ask for.”

“I love you, too,” Mugman whispers back, “And no matter how much trouble we get into, I wouldn’t want any other brother but you.”

The boys walk back to the third isle, back to Maria’s ship, and Cuphead feels lighter than he ever has through this whole adventure. For once he finally feels the optimism he’s tried to convey to Mugman, for once he’s truly hopeful. The sun is starting to set, painting the sky orange and red. It’s a reminder of how much time is left, but midnight is still some hours away. For now, Cuphead feels confident, and he can tell Mugman does, too. It’s still difficult to face Maria again, but Cuphead nods to Mugman from across the sunset sky and the pair fight better than they ever have. It still takes them multiple attempts to finally defeat her, but the last rays of the sun are still in the sky when they do it.

“We’re going to defeat The Devil,” Mugman tells Maria as he takes her contract, “We’re going to free you.”

“You can sure try, Mugs,” Maria’s disembodied head murmurs, voice low and raspy from her earlier screeching. “I do wish you luck, but be careful.”

It hurts Mugman to hurt Maria, and Cuphead keeps an arm around him as they walk to the site of their last contract.

“Last one,” Cuphead tells him, “And then we can save them all.”

“The next one is a group of ghosts, right?” Mugman asks, clearly trying to push Maria out of his mind. “Do you think it’ll be anything like the mausoleums?”

“I kinda hope so,” Cuphead admits.

But the moment the fight starts, they know it isn’t. The ghosts on The Phantom Express are much bigger, tougher, and more talkative than the mausoleum ghosts – and they don’t have anything nice to say.

“You might as well give up now,” laughs The Blind Specter through a toothy grin, “I see nothing but death in your futures.”

“We don’t have anything left to lose but our contract,” the Conductor intones humorlessly, “You’ll be ghosts yourselves before we let you take it.”

“Get a load of these sad little souls!” cackles one Lollipop Ghoul.

“I’ll say,” adds the other, “They’re a coupla dead mugs walkin’!”

“How many times have you fellas died getting here?” asks the Head of the Train, “And I wonder how many more times you’ll die here before you give up?”

The ghosts in the mausoleum didn’t say anything; looking back, Cuphead wonders if they could talk at all. He has to wonder if those ghosts thought of the boys the same way The Phantom Express crew does. Their words cut deeper than any other taunt Cuphead has received from a combatant because they ring the truest. Cuphead is tired, and he knows Mugman is, too. Though their earlier hashing out gave them a boost of energy and confidence, every word from the ghosts of The Phantom Express slowly chips away at it. The ghosts talk as though they can see how many times the boys have died, how much they’ve been smashed and maimed, and for all Cuphead knows, maybe they can. Their fight is challenging, but Cuphead has been through too much to be intimidated now.

By the time he and Mugman get the contract, the stars are out and the sky is dark with night. But it’s not yet midnight, and there’s only one place left to visit: Inkwell Hell.

Cuphead can hardly believe that they were just here a day and a half ago, that it was a day and a half ago that the pair crossed the train tracks and stepped into The Devil’s Casino. That it was such a short time ago that Cuphead made the bet that changed everything. But now they’re finally at the end, they’ve finally completed the task The Devil gave them, and there’s only one thing left to do.

At least, Cuphead thinks so, until he and Mugman go inside the casino and see King Dice standing there instead of The Devil, grinning broadly.

“Well done, boys,” he exclaims, clapping with exaggerated cheer. “You’ve collected all the contracts.”

“Where’s your boss?” asks Cuphead, “He’s the one we have to give them to.”

“Sorry, but I’m afraid he’s not taking any visitors,” King Dice says, a sinister gleam in his eyes. “If you want to get to him, you’ll have to go through me.”

“That’s not fair!” Mugman bursts out, “We collected the contracts just like we promised, you can’t just cheat us at the end!”

“I can and I will,” King Dice replies, snapping his fingers. His employees emerge from the shadows, giggling and cackling, ready for a brawl. “The Devil doesn’t play fair, and neither do I. So what’s it going to be?”

As always, they have no choice.

King Dice is, in a word, cruel. It’s obvious he’s here on The Devil’s orders, here to stall the brothers and run out the clock so they can’t hold up their deal. But Cuphead thinks he’d be here even if he hadn’t been ordered to. King Dice enjoys fighting the boys more than any debtor they’ve faced, enjoys smashing them and watching his minions smack them around more than any enemy they’ve ever fought. Even Ribby and Croaks weren’t this happy to land hits, even Maria wasn’t this underhanded, even Cagney at his most feral wasn’t this ruthless. Every new crack in Cuphead or Mugman’s skin, every new bruise and every new scrape, every violent shattering death, every scream of despair or pain from one of the boys rips a booming, cackling laugh from King Dice’s mouth. It’s frankly amazing that he allows the boys to regain their souls when they lose, that he allows them the opportunity to wake up outside the casino at all. But Cuphead suspects that’s just another layer of his sadism; after all, if King Dice killed them permanently, then he wouldn’t be able to keep killing them, again and again.

His employees are nothing to sneeze at either. Not all of them are powerhouses, but they’re all as mean as King Dice, and some are downright unhinged. There are many battles when Cuphead and Mugman don’t even make it to King Dice; his minions smash them before they get the chance. They’re as aggressive and loud and taunting as every enemy they’ve ever faced and then some, laughing and jeering right alongside their boss for the boys to give up. Even when the pair make it to King Dice, his cards are almost impossible to avoid, and their window for causing their own damage is terribly small. Even with invincibility, Mugman runs out of time to dodge. Even with astral projection, Cuphead can’t defeat King Dice fast enough. They lose, over and over and over. Every death hurts more, every time Cuphead loses his soul makes him feel more numb, every new phantom pain stays for longer than the last.

All the while, time ticks on, and midnight creeps ever closer.

“I hate King Dice!!” Cuphead screams after he and Mugman have awoken for what feels like the thousandth time, kicking at the ground in frustration. “We’re supposed to be fighting The Devil! We’re so close to the end, we’re almost out of time, and stupid King Dice is in our way! This is so unfair, that slimy, no-good, cheating son of a…”

Cuphead trails off when he notices Mugman’s sedate, morose expression, staring at the ground instead of looking at Cuphead.

“Mugs?”

“Cuphead,” Mugman begins, low and severe, “There’s something I want us to try.”

“W-What?” Cuphead asks, startled by his brother’s tone.

“Just…hear me out.”

“Okay, Mugman, I will. What’s your plan?”

Mugman sighs.

“Every time we’re able to face King Dice, whenever we die,” Mugman says, “The other person needs to keep going. That means if we’re up against King Dice and he kills you, I focus on beating him instead of reviving you. And if he kills me, then you–”

“I can’t,” Cuphead says immediately, horrified.

“Cuphead–”

“I can’t! You know I can’t! You can let me stay dead and keep fighting, I’m fine with that, but there’s no way in hell I can do the same with you!”

“Listen to me, Cuphead,” Mugman pleads, “King Dice is like Maria, he tries to get one of us and uses our deaths to his advantage. But he’s worse than Maria, he doesn’t care which of us dies, and he’s so much better at targeting us while we’re parrying. His cards don’t miss.” He rubs his arm, and Cuphead shivers, remembering how one of King Dice’s cards sliced it off at the elbow in the last battle. “We’ve gotten so close every time, I can feel it. We just need a little more to defeat him. And if we focus on that instead of on reviving each other, we can do it.”

“Mugs,” Cuphead whimpers, eyes filling with tears.

Cuphead has never, not once, intentionally let Mugman’s soul float away. There were plenty of times when he was killed before he could parry Mugman’s soul, and even times when he wasn’t fast enough to parry it before it flew out of reach. But Cuphead has at least tried to catch his brother’s soul every single time it left. After everything they’ve been through, after all those times Cuphead died because he was too busy looking after Mugman, after watching his baby brother die hundreds of times, how can he possibly just let it happen? How can he possibly let Mugman’s soul fly away?

“Don’t cry, Cups,” Mugman murmurs, stepping closer, “I’d come back even without you parrying me, just like we always do when we both die.”

“What if you don’t come back?” Cuphead asks, voice small. “What if you die forever?”

“Cuphead.” Mugman reaches out and grips Cuphead’s shoulders. His gaze is steely, resolute. “I’ll be alright. We both will. We’ve come too far to lose now. We beat King Dice, we fight The Devil, and we free the isles from their contracts like we’ve planned, like you’ve been telling me we’ll do this whole time.” He manages a small smile. “Let’s finally finish this.”

Cuphead, even through his tears, can’t help but smile back. He’s so terrified of losing his brother but so in awe of his bravery that his heart feels fit to burst. He tries to hold onto the admiration, hold onto Mugman’s courage, and lets himself feel it, too. How did Cuphead become the one needing encouragement, the one unable to hold back his fear? How did Mugman become the brave one, the one willing to do what it takes to win the day? The answer is obvious. Dying a thousand times will do that. Achieving feats of strength that should be impossible will do that. Or maybe, just maybe, the two of them finally managed to rub off on each other, to impart the lessons in courage and strength and vulnerability that they’d each been trying this whole time to pass along.

“Okay,” Cuphead manages, “I’ll do my best.”

“I know,” Mugman replies, giving Cuphead’s shoulders a kind squeeze. “I will, too.”

Cuphead prays that those are not his brother’s last words.

They aren’t, but the next few fights don’t see Mugman dying first and Cuphead being forced to let him stay dead. They make it to King Dice, and Cuphead ends up being the one to go down. It’s always jarring to die in the heat of battle and awaken outside the casino, especially when that death doesn’t happen because Cuphead was in the middle of parrying Mugman. But each time he wakes up, Mugman is waking up, too.

“Did we win?” Cuphead asks.

“No,” Mugman admits, “But I got really close after you died. I think King Dice can see what we’re doing, and it’s making him nervous. We’re almost there, I can feel it!”

That’s how the first two fights with the new strategy end.

The third is where things change.

Cuphead is exhausted now, it’s so late at night and so close to midnight and he and Mugman have been fighting all day. But he holds onto the thought that this is their last obstacle, that King Dice is the only thing standing in their way. Just this, just this fight, and the end of this nightmare will be in reach. He and Mugman are against King Dice for what feels like the thousandth time, both cracked and bruised and shaking with exhaustion. It’s that exhaustion that makes Mugman slip up when dodging King Dice’s cards, and he doesn’t have enough power to save himself with his Super.

“Mugs!” Cuphead cries, but he knows it’s no use.

One of King Dice’s cards cuts into Mugman’s chest, and Cuphead can hear the porcelain shattering and caving in, can see the light fade out of Mugman’s eyes as his soul leaves his body. King Dice laughs as Cuphead screams.

“Aren’t you gonna save your brother, Cuphead?” King Dice asks – no, taunts. Mugman was right before, King Dice is aware of their new tactics. He’s not unscathed from this battle either, and he probably wants Cuphead to parry Mugman and get himself killed in the process like he always did before.

And Cuphead wants to do that too, wants to save Mugman so badly, wants to parry him back in like he’s done every single time before. But he told Mugman he’d try, told him he’d do his best, and so he will. Even if watching the cards walk over Mugman’s corpse makes him sick. Even if listening to King Dice’s laughter and jeers makes him see red.

Cuphead by now is used to choosing certain emotions to hold onto over others, used to letting a feeling fester to keep other feelings away. So he channels his rage, his anger at King Dice, his anger at every other debtor who hurt him and his brother, his anger at The Devil for causing this whole thing, his anger at himself for taking that bet in the first place, into fighting through King Dice’s cards without getting a scratch. When he gets his opening to attack King Dice, he funnels that boiling hate and fury into his Super Art, splitting off his soul from his body to attack twice as hard. He can still control his body, still shoot at King Dice from the ground, but it feels distant and small compared to the power of his soul, compared to the pure anger sustaining it. It should be alarming how satisfying it is to beat down King Dice with his bare hands, but Cuphead can only feel catharsis. He remembers being a kid, building sandcastles to knock them down, breaking vases, scribbling on walls. He remembers the excitement of being powerful when this whole journey started. He brings his fists down on King Dice’s hands, the same ones that shuffled cards at him and Mugman to kill them over and over, and breaks them in a dozen places. Has he been this angry the whole time? He knows the answer is yes. He hid it under false optimism or fear or despair or pain, so deep he barely felt it, but it was always there. Cuphead has never been crueler, never been meaner.

But it works.

King Dice surrenders.

He looks as bad as the boys do now, head cracked, one eye blackened, three teeth gone, nice suit torn. He grumbles over his broken hands, but Cuphead ignores him to go to Mugman’s side. He’s still dead, of course, and if his soul is lingering, it’s too high up in the smoky casino ceiling to be seen. He looks asleep, but when Cuphead scoops him up, he’s much too cold and much too limp to be mistaken as anything other than dead. Cuphead has touched Mugman when he’s dead, but never like this, and it dampens out the last of Cuphead’s furious rage.

“Go see The Devil, then,” King Dice mutters to Cuphead. “And mark my words, this is not over. You’ll regret this, The Devil will make sure of it.”

Cuphead already does, but not in the way King Dice would like. Instead of replying, Cuphead spits at him before turning around and storming out of the casino, Mugman clutched tight to his chest.

Once he’s outside and the casino door is closed behind him, he sighs and shudders, laying Mugman down as gently as he can manage. He looks up, and this time, he can see Mugman’s soul up above, too far away to parry yet but there all the same. The sob that comes out of Cuphead’s throat sneaks up on him, and more follow after. He’s so tired, so relieved this fight is over, so upset that Mugman is still dead, so afraid of what it’ll be like to face The Devil.

His tears have mostly subsided by the time Mugman’s soul is low enough for Cuphead to reach. He parries it, finally, and Mugman finally wakes up, broken chest healing itself in an instant. He still puts a hand on it as he comes to, fingers curling in his shirt.

“Cuphead, what happened?” he asks, breathless.

“We did it,” Cuphead replies, just as breathless. “We beat him. All that’s left is The Devil.”

“Wow,” Mugman murmurs, sitting up. “I kinda wish I got to see it, but I’m happier that it’s over.”

“I hated not parrying you when I could’ve,” Cuphead says, quiet and sad. “It felt awful.”

“I know,” Mugman murmurs, reaching out to hug Cuphead. “I hated letting you stay dead, too. But it’s good that we did it, it got us here. And we’re both still alive.”

“Yeah,” Cuphead says, hugging back. “We are.”

There’s still an hour until midnight, so the pair can stay like that for a while, recovering, comforting, and being comforted. And they do.

But they don’t take too long. More than anything, they want this to be over.

And there’s still one more thing left to do.

They approach the door of The Devil’s tower, a place they saw yesterday when they came to the casino but didn’t go near. The place has an aura around it unlike even the casino, dark and heavy and chilling. Cuphead tries to open the door, then knocks on it hard when that doesn’t work. After several moments, the door creaks open, seemingly on its own. Cuphead looks at Mugman, and the pair lock eyes and nod. There’s nothing more to say. Cuphead takes Mugman’s hand, takes a deep breath, and walks into The Devil’s Tower.

There’s a carpet along the stone floor, leading to the end of a long hall. Flames creep along the walls, but somehow don’t swarm the whole hall or burn themselves out. Imps and demons watch from the shadows and between the flames, chuckling to themselves at the sight of the brothers and skittering about, nearly out of sight. The miasma that hangs in the air around the tower is even worse inside, and Cuphead feels it so acutely that every cell in his body screams at him to turn around and run. By the way Mugman is trembling, Cuphead knows he feels the same. But the pair press on, and eventually, they come to the end of the giant hall, to a huge red and gold throne.

Sitting languidly in said throne, a trident in hand, is no other than The Devil himself.

It’s been a day and a half since Cuphead last saw him, a day and a half since he kicked Cuphead and Mugman out of the casino to get started on the contracts. It feels like a lifetime ago. Back in the casino, Cuphead was too full of adrenaline and dreams of riches to fully take in The Devil’s terrible grandeur, but after Cuphead’s many battles, there’s no such veil in his perception now. It’s hard to even look at The Devil, hard to even meet his yellow eyes. His very presence is toxic, his very existence feels like an affront to every good, pure thing in the world. And it is, isn’t it? Cuphead is looking at the origin of evil, and he feels it in his beleaguered soul.

“So,” The Devil begins, voice just as booming and deep as before, “You’ve made it past my good-for-nothing lackey, and you’ve gotten my soul contracts.”

“Y-Yes,” Cuphead says, unable to force out any other words. Mugman seems too afraid to speak at all.

“But let’s not kid ourselves,” The Devil sighs, sliding down to slouch bonelessly in his throne. “We all know you two aren’t planning on giving those back.”

“How did you know?” Cuphead asks, gut twisting.

“King Dice may have heard a thing or two,” The Devil replies with a toothy grin. “Something about you two wanting to be heroes. Something about you little brats thinking you could even stand a chance against me.”

The flames on the walls roar briefly, as if giving his words emphasis.

“We’re not gonna give up the contracts,” Cuphead insists, trying to sound brave. Mugman is half-hiding behind him.

“Mm, figured you’d say that. How about this…” The Devil straightens in his seat so he can stare the boys down from as high up as possible. “Why don’t we modify your deal? No more contracts to collect, don’t you worry,” The Devil laughs at Cuphead puffing up in anger. “Instead of fighting me and dying, maybe over and over until you stop coming back…you can surrender the contracts to me like you promised, and become more powerful than you’ve ever been.”

“What?” Cuphead asks.

“The truth is, Cuphead, I’m impressed with you and your brother,” The Devil admits, leaning forward with a slimy grin. “I never expected you both to get so strong. It’d be a shame to kill you and throw all your potential down the drain.”

The Devil holds out the hand not already holding his trident, and a contract forms out of thin air, landing in The Devil’s outstretched palm. He whips it to roll it out, and the document is small, but Cuphead fears what could be written in it.

“What are you talking about?” he asks.

“My point is that I’d much rather have you on my team than have to destroy you,” The Devil says, “And I think you’d much prefer being alive to being dead.”

Cuphead’s mouth goes dry.

“We’d never work for you!!” cries Mugman, finally finding his voice. The Devil laughs, a harsh, cackling sound.

“Nice of you to join us, Mugsy,” he sneers, making Mugman shrink back behind Cuphead. “But it’s not your choice to make. Your brother’s the one who made our deal, remember?”

“I…” Cuphead manages, but can’t say anything more.

“Think about it,” The Devil says, “If you work for me, you’d be two of the most powerful demons in my employ. So powerful and so feared that you’d never be in a fight you couldn’t win in one go. You’d never have to fear anything again, never have any guilt or despair or pain holding you back. And Cuphead, I can see right through you.” The Devil leans in even closer, his voice turns low and beguiling. “You’ve got hellfire in your spirit, I can see it in your eyes. You’ve gotten a taste for violence and destruction, and it satisfies a deep part of yourself. You have so much anger and hatred boiling in that head of yours, but all that death keeps numbing you down. Wouldn’t you like to be a demon? To thrive on that anger and hate instead of it burning you alive? To stop fearing death and the nothing it brings?” He holds the contract out to Cuphead, dropping it into his hands. “If not for yourself, what about Mugman? Wouldn’t it be nice not to have to worry about him getting hurt? Aren’t you tired of watching him die? I can make you both invincible, untouchable. I can make it so you can be as destructive as you want, with no consequences. I can make it so you never feel numb again.” The Devil manifests a quill pen and places it in Cupheads hand. “Just sign the dotted line, and it will be done.”

Is it terrible that Cuphead considers it? Is it awful that he considers signing The Devil’s contract? His hand trembles around the quill pen, but every other part of him is frozen. Everything The Devil said was true, and all of it spoke to Cuphead’s deepest desires. His fear of losing Mugman, his exhaustion over these endless fights, his latent anger that came out when he fought King Dice, his guilt at having caused this situation in the first place. Even if they manage to beat The Devil and destroy the contracts, then what? They carry the memories of this hellish experience for the rest of their lives? The residents of the isles that they fought never look at them the same way again? Their every death remains etched in their souls forever? They suffer with what they’ve done, who they’ve hurt, who they’ve killed, and the countless ways they’ve died until the day they die for real? Or does Cuphead take The Devil’s new deal, stop those memories from tormenting them, and finally get to stop fighting?

But no, Cuphead realizes, he couldn’t. It’s not that he has no choice, the way it’s always been. He has a choice, but the path is clearer than it ever was before. If Cuphead takes this deal, signs away their souls and becomes The Devil’s pawns, then what was the point of this trial? What was the point of fighting all those people, some of them friends? What was the point of taking their contracts? What was the point of the promises they made to them? If Cuphead takes this deal, then what was the point of him and Mugman dying all those times, all that shattered porcelain, all the tears and pain? They’ve grown so much over the past day and a half. They’ve suffered, yes, but they’ve found wells of strength and courage within themselves that they never knew they had. The Devil is right, they’re more powerful than they’ve ever been, but not just physically. To take The Devil’s deal and become his pawns would be to surrender all that inner strength they’ve found and formed. Cuphead’s come too far and grown too much to repeat the same mistake that got him here in the first place.

Cuphead and Mugman did not go through this journey for nothing. They will not let all their endless deaths be in vain. They will not throw the debtors to the wolves. They will go back home to Elder Kettle. They will destroy the soul contracts.

But first, they will defeat The Devil, no matter how many tries it takes.

Cuphead looks up at The Devil’s grinning face, and looks back down at the contract. He drops the quill pen, takes the contract in both hands, and rips it in half.

“We came to defeat you,” Cuphead exclaims over The Devil’s enraged screech, finally feeling as brave as he sounds. “And we’re not leaving until we do!”

“Then you’ll never leave!!” The Devil roars, eyes filling in red with fury as his imps and demon whoop and holler from the shadows. “I’ll be drinking tea from your heads when I’m done with you!”

They fight.

The Devil is so, so much stronger than anyone they’ve ever faced before.

He’s stronger and meaner and scarier than Cagney, than Maria, than King Dice. Cuphead had thought – or hoped – that he and Mugman would be a match for The Devil after all the fighting they’d done before facing him. But it feels like they barely have any power at all. Cuphead still has that deep sense of unease, that malaise that makes him want to run. It makes fighting harder, and it makes every injury hurt worse. Whenever The Devil uses a spell with his trident, whatever language he speaks for it makes Cuphead’s ears hurt, like the words are something that mortals aren’t made to hear. The battleground is hot with hellfire, the air is dim and hazy the same way it was in the casino. In times the fight carries on into the underground, times where Cuphead and Mugman are forced to follow The Devil closer to hell, everything gets even darker, even more precarious, with even more obstacles. Nothing feels like progress, because the further the brothers get, the angrier The Devil becomes.

The Devil is a terrifying opponent, more so than anyone before him. He laughs at Cuphead and Mugman’s pain the way King Dice did, and therefore laughs often. He’s clearly aware of the effect his mere presence has on the boys, and therefore performs his spells loudly, levels the boys with cruel glares or sinister smiles, and alters his form in terrifying ways. He stretches his neck into a serpent to sink his snake fangs into the boys, molds himself into a slit-pupiled goat to crush them between sharp hooves, or pulls his own head off his shoulders so it can scuttle after them like a giant spider. The Devil’s minions join in, too, rushing in to attack Cuphead and Mugman, gleeful to be a part of the fight. Those are the only creatures Cuphead doesn’t feel bad about killing, but that’s the closest he gets to relief or confidence during the fight.

But the worst part of it is the taunting. And it’s not as if Cuphead isn’t used to that by now, especially not after fighting the crew of The Phantom Express. Their taunting was worse than anyone else’s by virtue of the way the ghosts could see Cuphead and Mugman’s suffering, see how many times they’d died and dig at them that way. But The Devil sees even deeper, sees down through their souls and into their very hearts. He proved as much with the contract he offered Cuphead earlier, and he has plenty to say to them both.

“How many of my minions have you offed now?” he asks Cuphead, grinning sharply, “Are you enjoying the rush of the kill? Is violence still fun for you?”

Cuphead tries to ignore it, but thinks of the words every time he kills another minion.

“Goodness, Mugman, enough with the screaming,” The Devil sighs as he puts his head back on his shoulders, “All this fighting and you still haven’t gotten any braver? How do you expect to win here if you can’t get that fear under control?”

Cuphead remembers Mugman telling him how he felt like a coward, and seeing how he wilts at The Devil’s words now, Cuphead knows that feeling hasn’t truly left him.

“It’s not too late to take that deal, you know,” The Devil tells them both, leaning so close to them they almost back away off the edge of the platforms they’re standing on, “Just say the word, and this will be over. You can sign and finally stop suffering.”

That seems to be the reason he doesn’t try to permanently destroy the brothers between fights and take the soul contracts that way. He still wants them on his team, still wants them as demons, and he can’t have that if he’s obliterated them. He’s used to winning, and he seems sure he’ll have his cake and eat it too. But can Cuphead really call him overconfident when he’s so powerful and manipulative, enough to keep the brothers on the defensive? Cuphead can’t pretend that a part of him isn’t still tempted to accept that deal, especially when The Devil takes special joy in hurting the boys in new ways whenever he gets the chance.

Cuphead finds out how hellfire feels when The Devil lights him up with a bat bomb (hot and heavy and ugly, it jumps down his throat when his mouth opens to scream, it burns so deep that the edge of his soul is charred). Cuphead finds out what exists beneath the dark of the platforms when The Devil sends a minion to knock him off the edge (nothing but rushing wind, ripping a screech out of his throat until he has no breath, so dark he can’t see his own flailing limbs, so loud he can’t hear his own cries, so long he doesn’t know when he finally hits the ground). Cuphead finds out how The Devil’s bloody tears work when he flicks one out the corner of his eye and right into Cuphead’s head (like his own brain is being fried from the inside out, the liquid there boiling and burning and curdling in an instant, so hot it melts his straw into the mess, melts through his eyes and pours out of the sockets, somehow slowly enough for him to feel before it kills him). Cuphead finds out how all that torture looks from the outside, because The Devil does the same things to Mugman, and it shreds Cuphead’s heart all the more to see his brother maimed so horribly because he knows acutely how it feels.

Cuphead can imagine that, in another life, he might have made fun of The Devil for crying when the fight got tough. Made fun of him for being so weak after all his trash-talking and posturing. But he can’t, not when The Devil isn’t any less powerful and calculating for it, not when his very tears are weapons themselves. The Devil’s frustration doesn’t make him sloppy, it makes him even sharper, even meaner. The closer he and Mugman get to beating him, the farther away victory feels.

“Cup,” Mugman says after they reawaken, for the thousandth, or ten thousandth, or hundred thousandth time. “I don’t know how much longer we’ll have to finish this.”

“What do you mean?” Cuphead asks. Midnight passed long ago, but the details of their original deal hardly matter now.

“Every time we fight him and get him to the point of tears, he gets more and more upset and frustrated.” Mugman rubs his arms anxiously. “I feel like sooner or later he’s going to decide that waiting for us to take his deal isn’t worth it, and that he’ll just cut his losses and kill us so he can get the contracts.”

Cuphead’s heart sinks at that, because Mugman has a point. They can’t keep doing this forever, none of them can. Cuphead and Mugman are past the point of exhaustion, and The Devil surely has other things to do aside from fighting the boys over and over. Either Cuphead and Mugman beat The Devil into submission, destroy the contracts, and be the heroes they so badly want to be…or The Devil gets sick of fighting, murders them, and makes sure they stay dead. And they’ve been fighting for so long now that one of those options has to happen soon.

“Do you think we’re getting close?” Cuphead asks Mugman, “I want to believe we are, since we keep making The Devil cry, but it never really feels like it.”

“Maybe it’s just his tower,” Mugman says with a shudder, “That place has felt wrong since we first stepped in it.”

“You’re right, I’ve been feeling that, too. But if we’ve gotten close, then how do we get to the end?”

“I…don’t know.”

Cuphead wants to make a joke, lighten the mood somehow like he’s used to doing, but he can’t, not when Mugman looks so hopeless.

They lose another fight, and another, and another. Despite how it may feel, Cuphead knows objectively that he and Mugman are improving. They consistently get far into each battle, they’re better at avoiding the minions, they even manage to dodge some of The Devil’s attempts to torture them. But The Devil can see them improving, too. When he cries, he cries harder, his tears are hotter. He keeps bringing up the deal, keeps trying to entice Cuphead to take it. He’s getting more and more frustrated, just as much as Cuphead and Mugman are getting more and more skilled. Cuphead knows that Mugman was right, that the breaking point is coming, but he doesn’t know when it’ll be.

At least, until they face The Devil for the umpteenth time, and he snarls at them, all out of smug grins and evil laughter.

“I’m tired of this,” he growls, “You little mugs have exhausted my patience, and I’m not wasting any more time on those contracts. You can either surrender now and accept my deal, or die in this battle and never wake up again. What will it be?”

Cuphead looks at Mugman, and Mugman looks back. He’s terrified, they both are, but Cuphead knows what the right choice is.

“We’re not taking your deal,” Cuphead says, looking back to The Devil, eyes narrowed.

“Of course not, you stubborn brat,” The Devil sighs, not languid and vaguely annoyed like when he first spoke to the brothers, but guttural and deeply angry. “Thank your god that you won’t live to regret those words.”

Maybe it’s the rush of adrenaline from knowing that this is the final battle, but Cuphead is sharper than he’s ever been. At first, neither The Devil or his imps manage to touch Cuphead once, and Mugman seems to fare just as well. But it’s not for lack of trying; The Devil is at his most enraged, at his least mirthful. He’s tired of quips and jeering, tired of manipulating and cajoling. All he wants to do now is kill, all he wants are the soul contracts, all he wants is for Cuphead and Mugman to be dealt with. Cuphead’s also ready for this to be over, but not in the way The Devil is hoping for.

The first part of the battle ends, and The Devil journeys down, closer to hell, as per usual. Cuphead has grown used to following him immediately, to jumping down the hole right away to avoid the encroaching hellfire. But this time, he pauses. He looks up, and Mugman is standing beside him, also hesitating. He looks at Cuphead. Cuphead takes his hand, squeezes, and the pair jump down together, knowing that they might never come back up.

It’s hard to concentrate on how much time is passing, on how far they’ve progressed or how long each progression takes. Each battle never lasts more than a few minutes, but they always feel so much longer. This battle is no exception; knowing it’s the last one has Cuphead’s senses on a hair trigger, and time slows to a crawl. It makes him better at dodging The Devil’s attacks, but it also seems to make The Devil better at hurting him and Mugman. When the first tears well up in the corner of The Devil’s eyes, he’s already gotten a few hits on the boys. There’s a crack at the back of Cuphead’s head, near his handle, that reminds Cuphead of its existence through persistent stinging pain. One of Mugman’s eyes is swollen shut and bruised over with purple. Those are the cherries on top of the other scrapes this fight has littered them with, but Cuphead couldn’t say exactly where on his body each one is. After all the injuries he’s suffered over the past day and a half, after every little cut and scratch and dent he’s gotten, he can’t rightly tell which of the ones on him now are phantom pains and which are real. It doesn’t matter; he fights through them regardless. Mugman must feel the same, but he doesn’t let it slow him down, either.

The Devil is hurting too, but he isn’t giving up. When his tears start falling at full force, he’s not in despair. He’s so enraged he doesn’t seem capable of speech, eyes huge and yellow and red, burning blood tears raining down on the one remaining platform that Cuphead and Mugman have to share. They’ve gotten this far a few times before, and Cuphead knows it’s only a matter of time before they lose their timing on the jumps to avoid the falling poker chips and end up dead. And unlike before, they won’t be able to try again. There’s no more do-overs. But they’re exhausted, they’re both so tired, Cuphead knows it’s not just him who’s ready for this to end. But it has to end with him and Mugman winning. It has to end with the pair of them defeating The Devil, or else all their friends, all the people they hurt, will lose their soul contracts and become The Devil’s pawns. Cuphead and Mugman didn’t suffer all that they did for this journey to end like that.

But they can’t keep going much longer. The Devil is hanging on by a thread, but so are the boys. Between the falling tears and flaming poker chips they barely get any time to attack, they’re so focused on evasion. And Cuphead can see their timing getting worse and worse, see them slipping up further and further. It feels like King Dice’s fight all over again, but so much worse. If only there was a way to get past those poker chips –

That gives Cuphead an idea. A crazy idea, but an idea nonetheless.

“Mugs!” he cries, having to shout to be heard over The Devil’s enraged sobbing.

“What?” asks Mugman, parrying a tear close by.

“Do you have your Super?”

“With that last parry, yeah. Why?”

“I have mine, too, and I know how we can finish this.”

“How?”

“Use your Super and cover me to get us past the poker chip, and then I’ll use my Super, and we’ll give The Devil everything we’ve got!”

“Are you crazy!? My Super doesn’t work that way, it can’t protect you, too!”

“How do you know? We’ve never tried anything like that before!”

“For a reason! And even if it worked, what if it isn’t enough to finish the fight? Then we’d be doomed!”

At that moment, another poker chip comes raining down like a flaming comet. Cuphead jumps away and back to the platform, and Mugman tries to do the same – but he miscalculates slightly, and the chip burns one of his arms, putting a black mark nearly along the length. Mugman yelps in pain but manages to dash back to the platform, holding his burnt arm – his shooting arm.

“Oww, oh no,” he gasps, “How am I supposed to fight like this?”

“You don’t have to,” Cuphead insists, “Just cover me and I’ll finish this.”

“Cups…”

“Mugs, I know you’re worried, but we don’t have a choice! We’re on our last legs, but so is The Devil. We have to end this now.”

High above, Cuphead can see the next chip coming down. So can Mugman. Maybe he thinks Cuphead is being reckless and overzealous again, but maybe he can see Cuphead’s sincerity, too. His eyes are tired and soft and full of pain, but there’s a spark still there that The Devil, even now, has not extinguished.

“If this doesn’t work,” Mugman says, bracing to activate his Super, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Cuphead says, willing himself not to sob.

As the flaming poker chip tumbles through the air, barreling down towards them, the boys stand as tight as bowstrings, ready to jump at the right moment. The Devil had to have heard their plan, but he’s not strong enough to mount a counterattack. All that’s left is for Cuphead and Mugman to be strong enough to finish this. Or just Cuphead, if Mugman can’t shoot. Even Cuphead isn’t completely sure this will work, but he knows this is their last chance.

Their only choice.

As the chip approaches, Mugman activates his Super. That familiar giant mug appears, cloaking him in something immaterial, and he emerges covered in gold. He nods to Cuphead, jumping up in the air towards the chip, and Cuphead follows behind. In the air, Mugman grabs into his brother and curls around him, back facing the chip. Cuphead also curls up as much as he can, pulling in his hands and feet, hoping and praying that this works.

Mugman launches into the chip back-first, and it shatters on impact, raining flaming shrapnel around the brothers. Cuphead can hardly see a thing, but he’s alive and he’s not burned, so his heart soars. When Mugman lets him go, Cuphead uncurls and finally uses his own Super, sending his soul out of his body, becoming the pilot of two presences at once. All three of them, invincible Mugman, resolute Cuphead, and Cuphead’s powerful soul all converge against The Devil.

Cuphead fights like something wild, body and spirit bearing down on The Devil as much as they can. Cuphead’s mind feels floaty and far away as it always does when he splits himself up, but he’s not so far gone that he can’t focus on hitting The Devil as hard as possible. Mugman is shooting too, but his burnt arm hinders him despite his invincibility. Cuphead, as exhausted as he is, has no such restrictions. He’s reminded of his fight with King Dice, but it’s not the same. Cuphead isn’t angry now, he isn’t filled with righteous, malicious fury. He wants justice served, but the feeling is cold, removed. Cuphead hates The Devil, but the hate doesn’t burn him up anymore. He’s tired of burning, hell is hot enough already. He wants this over, and this has to be it. He doesn’t get any pleasure out of giving The Devil a black eye to match Mugman’s, doesn’t find any satisfaction in breaking off one of his horns with an earth-shaking snap, can’t feel any joy from The Devil’s pained, wrathful screaming. He’s tired of fighting, tired of dying, tired of watching his brother get hurt, tired of hurting people and taking their contracts, tired of rage and numbness and fear, tired of being tired. It has to be over. He just wants to be a normal little boy again.

After what feels like a long time but is only a few seconds, Mugman’s invincibility fades and Cuphead’s soul returns to his body, and the pair fall back down to the platform. Cuphead stumbles as he lands, feeling the familiar vertigo from using his Super, but Mugman is there to steady him with a hand on his shoulder. He smiles at Cuphead, proud but shaky, unsure if there’s still more fighting left to do. Cuphead gives a quick smile back before looking at The Devil, waiting for his next move and simultaneously hoping there’s none. For several long moments, Cuphead and Mugman stare at The Devil, and The Devil glares back, and Cuphead can’t tell if the fight is over. But something feels different. All is quiet, there’s no more falling poker chips, and The Devil looks worse than he ever has, but there’s something else. It takes Cuphead the length of the pause to finally see it.

The Devil is no longer crying hot drops of blood, but perfectly ordinary, see-through tears.

His tears are quiet now, too, he no longer sobs with forceful rage. They merely slide out of his eyes and down his cheeks. It’s now that Cuphead fully takes in The Devil’s appearance, his broken horn and black eye and the countless bloodied cuts and punctures from Cuphead and Mugman’s shots and the places where tufts of his fur have been shorn off from a shot’s near miss. The Devil is still huge, still imposing, but he’s not nearly so scary anymore. When Cuphead stands up straighter and speaks, he feels as brave as he sounds.

“Have you had enough?” he asks, holding up his shooting finger, glowing and ready to fire again. Mugman’s arm seems too damaged for him to do the same, but he stands just as tall as Cuphead, meets The Devil’s eyes with just as much determination.

Cuphead wants this so badly to be over, but he can’t accept anything other than The Devil’s full surrender. The Devil seems to know this, and he sighs, not annoyed, not angry, but wavering with sadness.

“Fine,” he sniffles, “Fine. You win.”

In nearly an instant, the ground rises, and all three of them are suddenly back on the surface, in the tower, with The Devil in his throne and Cuphead and Mugman standing before him just like when they first arrived. But it’s not just like that, because The Devil’s head is hung low, clear tears still leak from his eyes, and he’s injured worse than Cuphead and Mugman.

The Devil’s words finally hit Cuphead with full force.

He won.

They won.

It’s finally, finally over.

All the death and pain and torture and fear and despair and anger is over.

“We did it,” he gasps, half to himself. He turns to Mugman as a grin spreads across his face without his control. “We did it!”

“We did it!” Mugman repeats, laughing like he can’t believe it either.

“We did it!!” Cuphead shouts, jumping with excitement and hugging Mugman so tight he almost knocks him over. Mugman laughs harder, hugs Cuphead back, and the two jump around for many seconds, laughing and crying and laughing again.

They’ve defeated The Devil. They’ve kept the contracts. They’re alive and whole and they can finally go home.

But first things first.

“C’mon Mugs,” Cuphead eventually says, pulling away from his brother. “We have some contracts to destroy.”

“Do it and get out of here,” The Devil growls, though his voice is weak and quivering.

Cuphead and Mugman take out the contracts, and one by one, toss them into the roaring fire along the edge of the hall, the same fire that intimidated them before, the same fire the imps and demons once jeered at them from. Now, those imps and demons are hiding elsewhere as the contracts go up in smoke. Cuphead imagines the owners of the contracts probably tried to burn them themselves, but what else could burn a soul contract but hellfire? They seem so harmless now, like ordinary scrolls of paper as the fire eats them up into little black bits. As happy as Cuphead is to free each debtor, he gets an extra rush of joy throwing Cagney’s contract into the flames and watching it shrivel up into nothing. He gives Maria’s contract to Mugman to destroy, and he can see the relief in his brother’s eyes as he throws it in the fire to burn away.

Before long, every contract is burned, every debtor is free. There’s nothing left to do but go home, and make sure everyone knows they’re finally out of The Devil’s clutches. The boys run out of the tower, filled with adrenaline and energy and joy, not once looking back at The Devil as they go. They’re still hurt, still cracked and burned and bruised, but neither of them can feel the pain past the electricity in their veins. By now, the sun has just risen over the horizon, and the early risers of the isles should all be awake. Cuphead spent the whole night fighting and he was so exhausted a few minutes ago, but now he’s not even sleepy. For the first time in ages he’s proud, proud of his victory and eager to let everyone know about it.

“Oh my god, we did it!” Cuphead screams as he runs ahead of Mugman, darting out of Inkwell Hell like a bullet from his own finger.

“I know!!” Mugman exclaims, just as excited and running nearly as fast as Cuphead. “We gotta tell everyone!”

“Hey!!” Cuphead yells as the pair come upon the train tracks, “We destroyed your contract, you’re free!”

“I don’t think they’re here,” Mugman chuckles. The train tracks are empty, after all.

“They’re coming though, look!” Cuphead points ahead, and sure enough, The Phantom Express chugs into view some distance away down the track, but steadily gets closer.

“Cuphead, get out of the way!” Mugman yells, pulling Cuphead off the tracks.

“You’re free, you’re free!!” Cuphead yells as the train approaches, “We defeated The Devil and destroyed your contracts! The Devil doesn’t have your souls anymore!”

The train slows to a stop, and as it does, The Blind Specter comes out of one of the cars.

“We are, aren’t we?” he says, amazed. “We felt that something changed. It must be that.” He grins, not the malicious grin that Cuphead remembers from their fight, but a genuine and happy one. “Thank you. I’m sorry for hurting you both, and I’m glad you defeated us.”

“How’s about a rematch, now that our souls are back?” asks one of the Lollipop Ghouls, poking out from a train car.

“Yeah, one more, just one!” yells the other, joining his brother.

“Lay off,” The Blind Specter tells them, “The cups’ll just beat you up again.” He turns back to said cups. “We can help spread the word about what you’ve done.”

“Awesome!” Cuphead cheers. “We’ll race ya!”

Specter laughs, and floats off into the city of the third aisle. Cuphead and Mugman run after, laughing just as much, shouting loud. The people who hear them gawk in amazement, or shake their head in disbelief, or cheer alongside them. And when the news starts to reach the cityfolk whose contracts the boys took and destroyed, their cheers are loudest of all. At some point, Mugman veers away to the pier, and Cuphead knows exactly what he’s planning to do. Maybe it would be more considerate to go elsewhere and find other debtors to talk about his adventure with, but Cuphead can’t help but follow a distance behind Mugman and watch as he runs to a familiar sunken ship. Cuphead hangs back, peering out from behind a nautical post as Mugman practically screeches to a stop at the end of the dock.

“Maria, come out!” he calls. He gets on his knees and cups his hands around his mouth to shout into the water. “There’s something I have to tell you! Are you home?”

“I’m home,” replies Maria, poking her head out of the water. She’s not as huge now as she was when Cuphead and Mugman challenged her. She’s sized closer to a normal human, which Cuphead can see as she comes further above the surface, hips swaying as her tail keeps her above the water. She’s tall enough to put her hands on the end of the dock and look Mugman in the eye. “You’re making quite the hullabaloo up there,” she says with a wry grin, “What do you have to tell me?”

“Cuphead and I defeated The Devil,” Mugman answers, eyes shining with joy, “We destroyed your contract – well, everyone’s contracts. They’re all free. You’re free.”

Maria’s eyes go wide. For a moment she’s so frozen with shock that she almost falls back into the water, but manages to hold onto the end of the dock and keep herself up. Even the snakes on her head look surprised, lifting their heads to gawk at each other in disbelief. But Maria soon gathers herself enough to smile.

“Now that you say that, I do feel different,” she admits to Mugman. “I feel better. I can’t believe it, you really did it.”

“I told you we would, didn’t I?” Mugman says, voice soft as he smiles back.

“Thank you, and give your brother my thanks as well. But this is only for you.”

“What?”

Instead of speaking, Maria pulls herself closer to Mugman, kisses his cheek, and then lets go of the pier and disappears back under the water. Mugman kneels there for a long moment, starstruck. He raises a hand to his cheek, to the spot Maria kissed, and laughs a little to himself.

“Wow,” he mumbles, a grin spreading across his face.

He doesn’t notice Cuphead until he gets up and walks to the end of the pier, likely to look for Cuphead and meet back up with him.

“Hey, you were eavesdropping, weren’t you!?” he cries, pointing accusingly.

“How could I not?” Cuphead laughs, “Look at you, ol’ lady-killer!”

“Shut uuuup!” Mugman whines, shoving Cuphead but grinning all the while.

By the time Cuphead and Mugman make it back to the second isle, half the people and most of the debtors from the third isle are following them, cheering and celebrating. Specter must have spread the word as he said he would, because a couple debtors are already there to thank them.

“You did it!” says one of Grim Matchstick’s heads.

“Thank you, thank you!” says the second.

“We’re sorry for setting you on fire a whole bunch,” says the third, rather sheepish.

“Well, you did fight The Devil,” points out the second. “I bet he set them on fire way more than we did.”

“That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t apologize!” insists the third.

“No one’s saying we shouldn’t apologize,” placates the first, “Just stating the facts.”

“Oh, I think we’re confusing them,” says the second.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to look between us,” the third tells the cups. “Just pick one.”

“I won’t be offended if it’s not me,” the first reassures.

“Uh…” is all Cuphead manages. Mugman looks just as confused.

“Give them a break, Matches,” interjects the gruff voice of Wally Warbles. He looks at the cups without smiling, but not nearly as unhappy as he was the last time the brothers saw him. “Point is, thanks. For setting us free.”

“Yeah, thank you!” pipes up Willy from his father’s side. “Sorry for shooting you with my ray gun and stuff. What was fighting The Devil like?”

Turns out, Willy is fun to talk to when he’s not attacking Cuphead and Mugman. Pretty much every debtor is much kinder and friendlier than the pair would’ve guessed – even, Cuphead has to admit, Beppi, though he’s still not a fan of clowns in general.The second isle isn’t as big or populated as the third, so it’s not long before the whole place knows of the cups’ victory over The Devil and Cuphead and Mugman are able to move on. For a moment, Cuphead wonders if they should go to Quadratus and let him know of their victory, too, but then he remembers that Quadratus would tell them how many times they’ve died. Cuphead doesn’t really want to know how big that number is now.

He chases the thought away by reminding himself how happy he is to be going back to his home isle. By now, the crowd of debtors and cityfolk and carnies has grown into a huge party trailing behind the brothers, filling the air with shouts of joy and laughter and cheers. Cuphead’s heart is full, and he knows Mugman feels the same.

When they reach Inkwell Isle, every debtor they fought there is waiting to greet them, already aware of what’s happened and what the boys have done. The pair get hearty pats on the back and brisk handshakes and an outpouring of thanks, punctuated by the sound of Ollie Bulb weeping for joy so hard he can’t speak. Through the whirlwind of praise, Cuphead hardly notices that he and Mugman have been scooped up in a hug until said hugger laughs brightly, twirling them both around.

“You made it!” exclaims Hilda Berg, “I was so worried for you both, but you’ve gone and defeated The Devil. The Devil! I can hardly believe it! Thank you both so much for destroying our contracts!!”

“You shoulda seen it,” Cuphead manages, despite being thoroughly squeezed by Hilda, “We showed The Devil what for!”

“It was scary,” Mugman admits, “But now The Devil won’t be bothering any of us again anytime soon!”

“Alright, Hilda, let ‘em go,” says Cagney Carnation from nearby, “You’re gonna squash ‘em.”

Hilda does release them with another laugh, only for Cagney to grab them in a hug that’s just as tight. It makes her laugh more, and Cuphead almost makes a playful comment about Cagney being a hypocrite, but then he feels Cagney shudder and realizes he’s trying not to cry.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, “I’m so sorry for everything.”

Cuphead worms out an arm to hug Cagney back.

“It’s okay,” he says softly.

“We forgive you,” Mugman adds.

“Lord knows I don’t deserve it,” Cagney sighs. He pulls away with shining eyes and a soft smile. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Instead of putting them down, he lifts them both up, one on each shoulder, and shouts to be heard over the crowd.

“Let’s hear it for Cuphead and Mugman!!” He half-yells, half-laughs. “Hip hip–”

“Hurrah!!” shouts the crowd.

The cheer goes on for several rounds, and Cuphead is awash in the volume of the crowd, the vibration of the many voices, the joy and energy. He’s only on Cagney’s shoulders, but he feels on top of the world. He looks over at Mugman, and Mugman looks back, smiling so huge his face might crack. Everything feels right, everything feels the way it should be. Cuphead never knew a person could feel so at peace.

“Boys!” shouts a familiar voice, coming towards them as the cheering melts into conversations among the crowd.

“Elder Kettle!!” Cuphead and Mugman both shout at once. Cagney puts them both down, allowing them to run into Elder Kettle’s outstretched arms.

“You’ve done it,” he says, hugging them both tight. “I knew you could do it. I’m so proud of you, and I’m so glad you’re safe.”

Cuphead was wrong before. Now everything feels right in the world. Mugman starts crying, and Cuphead feels tears pricking his own eyes, too. Almost instinctively he holds them back, but reminds himself that he doesn’t have to now. Their trial is over, it’s okay for him to feel. So he lets himself cry, but it doesn’t feel awful the way it did yesterday after his and Mugman’s argument. It’s a release, it’s catharsis, it’s the long exhale after holding breath for too long. Elder Kettle is a calm and unwavering lifeline, holding both boys close until their tears are spent.

The day goes on, and Cuphead and Mugman spend it as the center of the festivities, recounting their battles against King Dice and The Devil, playing with Cagney’s daisies and Willy Warbles, and people-watching the crowd. They do the latter more and more as hours pass, once they’ve told their story to everyone twice over and grown too tired to play. As the excitement wears off, the crack next to Cuphead’s handle starts to sting and throb again, and he sees Mugman’s burnt arm start trembling at his side. They showed off their injuries earlier as trophies from their bout with The Devil, but they’ve lost their macho appeal now. Cuphead remembers how he and Mugman would wake up fully healed after they died, but he never considered how they’d heal when their battles were over. The pair sit on a log, sometimes with a daisy or two keeping them company, watch the crowd, and try to rest.

The sun has only just started to set when Cuphead starts yawning, and Mugman isn’t far behind. It’s much earlier than they’d normally get sleepy, but they haven’t slept in over a day at this point. By now, a lot of the isle’s residents have left, either to stop partying or to continue partying in their home isle. The cups haven’t been yawning for long when Elder Kettle approaches them, as though he guessed they’d be tired by now. Maybe he did.

“Perhaps it’s time for you to get some rest,” he says with a kindly gleam in his eyes. “Why don’t we go home and you two go to bed?”

“Yeah,” Cuphead agrees – out of character for him, when he usually begs for five more minutes, but he can’t be bothered today. Mugman yawns instead of replying.

Cuphead and Mugman walk home on either side of Elder Kettle. Normally they run ahead while walking with him, but today, they match his slow pace. They’ve done enough running, and they’re too exhausted to do any more. Cuphead can’t wait to finally sleep.

When Elder Kettle opens the door to their house and the boys step inside, Cuphead is hit with a sudden rush of emotion. It feels like a lifetime since he was last here, when Elder Kettle taught him and Mugman how to use the power the potion gave them. To be here now, after everything that happened and all the traveling he did across the isles, makes his heart thrum against his chest in a way he can’t explain. Mugman seems to feel something, too. He jolts as though startled when he walks through the door, and looks around the familiar room like he’s seeing everything for the first time.

“Oh,” he murmurs, “We’re home.”

“Yeah,” Cuphead mumbles. There’s nothing else to say.

Elder Kettle allows them their moment, but insists on cleaning up their wounds before they go to bed. As much as Cuphead wants to dive under the covers and finally sleep, he’s grateful for the band-aids placed over his bruises and scrapes and the glue applied to the crack on the back of his head. It feels better physically, but it also shocks Cuphead how much his heart swells to have a person touch him so gently. He’s had Mugman to hold his hand or hug him or put an arm around his shoulder, but he’s grown used to everyone else touching him just to cause him pain. Elder Kettle’s kind hands heal more than just his superficial hurt. Mugman gets his own band-aids, an ice pack for his black eye, and a gentle cleaning and wrapping of his burnt arm. Cuphead wonders if he feels the same about Elder Kettle’s care, too.

Once they’ve been bandaged up (and after Cuphead’s glued crack is allowed to dry and the swelling in Mugman’s black eye goes down), the boys are finally sent to bed. Cuphead sleeps in the top bunk of their bed (he pretty much begged for it when they first got the bed) and Mugman on the bottom, and Cuphead can hear Mugman below him as they both settle into their blankets.

“I never thought I’d be so happy to go to bed,” Cuphead sighs. Mugman chuckles, too tired to laugh.

“It’s kind of hard to believe that we’re home,” Mugman murmurs, “And that the whole thing is over.”

“We defeated The Devil,” Cuphead breathes. Mugman doesn’t reply; perhaps he’s just taking the words in.

It’s starting to sink in for Cuphead in a way it couldn’t before, back when he was in shock from his success and then too excited to think deeply on it. But Cuphead and Mugman did what should be impossible. What does that mean for the future? Will The Devil’s Casino still stand? Will he leave the isles and never come back? Or will he try to get revenge? But even if he does, they could stop him again, couldn’t they? They’re stronger than they’ve ever been. They’re stronger than everyone else on the isles. Cuphead can’t make sense of the emotional tangle within him, and he’s exhausted besides.

“Goodnight, Cuphead,” Mugman yawns after a while. Cuphead hears his blankets rustle as he snuggles into them.

“Goodnight, Mugman,” Cuphead replies, snuggling under his own covers.

It doesn’t take very long for him to fall asleep. But it doesn’t take much longer after that for visions to cloud his mind.

Everyone he defeated, jeering and crushing him and Mugman in their hands, or else screaming and wailing and cursing Cuphead for taking their souls. Every creature he killed, especially the daisies, sad and ragged and empty-eyed. King Dice and his cavalcade of minions, each one meaner than the last and King Dice the meanest of all, cutting Cuphead and Mugman in half with his cards over and over, laughing in their faces. And through it all, The Devil, sending them off and laughing at their heels, his face in the letters of every soul contract the boys collected, and his fight, his endless torture, his repeated attempts to manipulate. Cuphead sees himself in the flames, sees himself with sharp teeth and The Devil’s cruel red and yellow eyes.

Cuphead wakes up gasping, tears already running down his cheeks. It takes a few long moments for him to remember where he is, and that he’s okay, that there’s no one to attack, that there’s no one to attack him back. It felt so real, so immediate, as if fighting and dying is what he’s spent his whole life doing, not just the past two days. He doesn’t know how long he’s been asleep, but the room is pitch black with night. He manages not to sob, conscious of the fact that Mugman is asleep a few feet below him. But if Mugman is asleep…surely he wouldn’t notice if Cuphead snuck into bed beside him? The pair shared a bed when they were younger, and the rare times one of them had a nightmare, they didn’t need to go to Elder Kettle since they had their comfort person right there next to them. A part of Cuphead feels childish for thinking about it, but he is still a child, and he doesn’t have enough pride left to stop himself from getting out of bed and climbing down the ladder of the bunk bed.

He’s quiet as he steps on each rung, so he’s surprised to see Mugman awake when he reaches the ground. Even in the dark, Cuphead can see the tear tracks on Mugman’s cheeks, and he guesses Mugman can see Cuphead’s tears, too. Mugman sits up in bed, and that allows Cuphead to see his chest heaving in and out, betraying how fast he’s breathing and how hard his heart must be pounding. Cuphead knows the feeling.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Mugman asks Cuphead, voice so small that the dark nearly swallows it up.

“Yeah,” Cuphead admits, just as quiet.

“Me too.”

“Can I…Can I sleep with you?”

“Sure.”

Mugman scoots over to the far edge of the bed, allowing Cuphead to get in. The bed they shared as children was made for two and thus much bigger, but Cuphead doesn’t mind being so cramped now. He needs to be close to Mugman, needs to have a comforting person beside him, needs to have his brother within reach to know he’s still there. They face each other and take each other’s hands, like they’ve done so many times before. Instead of preparing to face a debtor or King Dice or The Devil, they’re preparing to face their own minds.

“Are we always going to be fighting?” Cuphead wonders. “Is it ever going to get easier?”

He keeps those thoughts to himself, but one look at Mugman’s face and he knows that his brother is thinking the same thing.

“Night, Mugsy,” Cuphead whispers.

“Goodnight, Cuppy,” Mugman answers.

They try to sleep.

~~~

Morning comes in bright and stretches long, but Elder Kettle waits until noon to check on the boys, knowing how much they need their sleep. He peeks into their room and is surprised to see them huddled together in the bottom bunk. Their faces aren’t relaxed with sleep, but tight, brows furrowed and mouths frowning. It’s then that Elder Kettle realizes what Cuphead and Mugman realized last night:

The boys that came home victorious but battered yesterday are not the same boys that confidently set off to collect The Devil’s soul contracts three days ago.

The boys that left might never come home again.