Akakios sauntered over to a bird cage. It was an exquisite construction, gilded in gold, though iron still lay underneath the finer, but soft metal. The cage was full of perches, had an assortment of little rests in the shape of small houses which were stuffed with all manner of precious metal trinkets and gems, and the toys the crow inside excitedly played with let out a discordant cacophony of chirping and clattering and tinkling. The corvid fluffed its wings contentedly as it saw its master approach, and hopped towards the cage's door in anticipation.

  The villain was oddly domestic, as if he had forgotten the stranger currently trapped inside his mind. He hummed a pleasant tune while he opened that door, and the crow greeted him with the same song. Akakios fed the little creature, scritched its neck, and then latched the cage once more.

  As they left, Mars couldn't help but ask "What's its name?"

  "He doesn't have one yet," the villain said, completely unbothered. He should be bothered. Shouldn't he? Mars was an intruder. He should be met by shock or anger or confusion, not indifference.

  But Mars thought it unwise to remind the villain of that fact. So he focused on the domestic. "Why doesn't it have a name?"

  "It's yet to need one." Matter of fact. He was so deeply uncaring to the creature he clearly doted on just minutes before. The human could not wrap his mind around the villain's, even as they shared the same space.

  They descended down a series of stone stairs that would have left Mars exhausted had his original body trekked the same path. The body he was in didn't even sweat as they made the journey to the laboratory below.

  There, they faced a dozen minions, milling about the vast cavern that housed the villain's most important experiments. He had been using captured prisoners as test subjects, attaching different limbs to some of their bodies. Others, he had fed magical concoctions that altered their natural forms. Some of those had sprouted wings, or spoke in tongues, or shifted their component parts from cells to spirit-filled waters. Each was strapped down, caged, or contained in any possible manner considering the requirements of their new forms. The person molded of spirit water was contained in a fish tank large enough to hold a shark, but not large enough for that shark to survive its hold.

  The test subjects were in various states of distress. Some were bloody, others were screaming. Those who still had faces contorted their expressions into anguish. Mars would have puked as soon as they entered this horror show, but even involuntary responses were tied to the original's disposition. However, a weak wave of nausea managed to settle. The villain winced.

  "You're not a fan, I take it?" Akakios asked, amused.

  A few minions turned to their master, but his words were directed to the air. They were not there to question their villain, so they simply went back to their tasks when they realized his words weren't meant for them.

  Mars, unheard by anyone but the villain, did answer. "What are we doing here?"

  "Fixing our little issue."

  The human didn't understand why this powerful, arrogant demon deigned to answer him. Everything he had read of Font of Demons led him to believe Akakios was less than acquiescent, prone to unrestrained malice. Yet the villain had been nothing but calm this entire time, even placating Mars' questions when his underlings wouldn't dare to look their master in the eye.

  Laika had said the novel was based on the world, not the other way around. Maybe the story had taken liberties. Maybe the narrator was unreliable. Maybe the villain was different from the one-dimensional fanfic fodder that graced the novel's trashy, tropey pages. For reference, the amount of Akakios x the Hero fics were only matched by the ones that shipped the Hero with Lars. This is because when canon is devoid of substance, the world becomes a blank slate for any aspiring freak to color in to their heart's desire.

  This world was apparently real, so the sandbox M.X. Brady created was no longer so malleable. This place was not sand. Mars could not build a castle. Whatever impression the villain had left in the original work was insubstantial compared to the real thing, with his own personality and motivations.

  In Brady's text, the villain was nothing but a few scraps of malicious, toying dialogue that was easy to misconstrue for fatal attraction to the hero. It was also easy to misconstrue for pure, unadulterated evil. The laboratory filled with cruel, painful experiments at its surface would compel anyone to agree to such an assessment. But there was clearly more to Akakios. Mars just couldn't figure out what it was. Was he malice incarnate? Was he more?

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  In short, the villain was different than he had expected. That nuance might save him. But he couldn't trust what he knew of the text to navigate this world. So maybe he was screwed. He simply didn't know.

  The only thing the autistic human could think to do was... ask. What was the worst thing that could happen? That the villain would grow angry? Find a way to murder the intruder? If he was already planning on doing that, asking couldn't make it worse. If he was planning on something else, asking a question probably wouldn't change his mind.

  But just in case, he said first, "I'm sorry."

  The villain laughed. The minions pretended not to notice. "Sorry for what?"

  "I don't want to be in your head any more than you want me here. I don't even know how this happened."

  "Oh, I'm aware. There's few foolish enough to want this pitiful existence, stuck in the mind of a demon."

  "I didn't try to take your body over, either. I had no intent to fuck with you. I don't know why I'm here. I swear."

  "I believe you." His voice still carried a lilt. He didn't sound mad.

  "You don't sound mad."

  "That's because I'm not." Mars would have sighed with relief. Instead, the villain chuckled again.

  Okay, okay. The human was ready to ask, "Are you planning on killing me?"

  The villain stopped laughing to answer a matter-of-fact, "No."

  Before Mars could stop himself, his thoughts blurted out, "Wait, why?"

  "Do you want me to kill you?"

  Mars hesitated. A few months ago his answer would have been different. But he hadn't been plagued by his own mind in so long, he desperately wanted to stay alive to relish in his mental respite. Unfortunately, less than 24-hours ago he had died anyway. Now, he wasn't giving up a chance to live. "No."

  "Good. We're on the same page."

  "What are you planning, then?"

  "I didn't expect your company, so I've not yet perfected dual-spirit extraction. We need to get you out of my head, preferably without damaging either of our souls." Without damaging either of our souls. Why was this conversation going so well? "I've decided this is the perfect opportunity for experimentation. While I've been trying to perfect soul transference, few souls are willing to undergo my trials. Resistance has made the task needlessly difficult. If you work with me, I might finally get the chance to study a successful implementation of the procedure. Then, I can refine my process from there, one day to the point I can manipulate even unwilling souls. You, Mars, are a blessing, it seems."

  So that was the reason. Unfortunately, it meant Mars was going to help the villain with his nefarious schemes. Fortunately, he wasn't really in the position to resist. He couldn't be accountable for whatever terrors the demon planned to unleash following his release. But what would become of him, once he served his use?

  "What will happen to me when we separate?"

  "Are you worried I will torture you? Or make you play henchman?"

  Would answering yes offend the demon? Mars didn't want to insult his lifeline. Before he could think of how to answer him, the demon spoke again.

  "Don't think too much. As long as you don't stand against me when we separate, I don't have any reason to harm you."

  "So, how do we get this started? I'll help in any way I can."

  "Good boy," Akakios muttered under his breath. Mars heard it. Of course he heard it. The body he was in said it. "I'll let you know if I have anything I need you help with. But right now, I have a lot to get set up before we can attempt the procedure."

  The villain made his way to a young man strapped down in leather bindings. He caressed the man's face with his fingertips, studying the body with a malicious humor once more glinting in his eyes. Even while struggling, the prisoner was beautiful. He had deep olive skin that matched Mars' original form, but no freckles speckled his cheeks. His hair fell in thick black waves that half-covered his face as he struggled. The villain's caress moved some of the locks to see him better. He was masculine, but still carried a refined beauty. Mars was envious of this body. He would give anything to call it his own.

  "Is this a good vessel?" Akakios asked.

  "What do you mean?"

  "When you transfer, would you like this body?"

  He had thought he'd give anything. But as Mars realized what the villain was saying, his heart sank.

  "I'd share a body with him instead?"

  "No, you'd take this one over. It's much more convenient that way."

  Mars' jaw would have dropped in horror. No. Fuck. He hadn't anticipated the cost of finding a new body, and he did not want to pay the price. He wasn't going to kill someone over this! How could he live with himself?

  "Absolutely not!"

  The villain retracted his hand. "Is it not to your satisfaction?"

  "I'm not going to kill someone for their body!"

  "You wouldn't be killing him. I will do it for you."

  "NO!"

  Akakios frowned. "That's the only way, Mars."

  "Then kill me instead."

  The demon stared at the body, struggling beneath his soft touch. A dark glint surfaced in his eyes, and as he raised his hand from the prisoner it transformed into a claw. He backhanded the young man. As he stepped away, a thin red line appeared on the prisoner's neck. The line thickened as blood leaked forth. The young man who had once been struggling against the bindings now struggled for life. His eyes widened with horror, and he gurgled up a few painful, wet final breaths.

  Then, his body slacked. He fell still.

  Mars couldn't do anything but watch.

  "Why would you do that!?"

  "If you didn't want the body, I have no other good use for the subject."

  "SO YOU KILLED HIM!?"

  "Yes." Even his malicious humor was gone. All that was left was cold, heartless psychopathy. Mars wanted to cry. "Don't worry. We can find a body that suits you much better."

  Mars was going to be sick. Except he wasn't. Because Akakios' body wouldn't even let him do that. His luck hadn't turned for the better. He was still stuck with the villain.

  And the villain was, in fact, a villain.