Nero's consciousness flickered back to life in that chaotic void. And who's standing right in front of her? Mephistopheles, the devil himself.
The second she got a good look at his smug face, Nero didn't miss a beat, firing off a jab: "You'd make a killer theme park prop, y'know."
Before blacking out, Nero distinctly remembered being chomped by that dragon. Then the ashy gray of petrification crept over the dragon's fleshy insides, slowly crawling onto her and the others.
So, this annoying demon in front of her? Clearly a stone statue by now.
But Mephistopheles wasn't fazed. He shot back without skipping a beat: "Oh, same to you. You'd be perfect as some castle's private collector's piece."
"Tch."
They traded verbal blows and settled into a silent standoff.
After a long, wordless stare-down, Mephistopheles broke first. "Don't you wanna get outta here?"
"Not if it means owing you one," Nero snapped.
Mephistopheles let out an exaggerated sigh. "Really? Gotta make me sound like the bad guy?"
"Bad guy? Nah, you're a straight-up demon."
Getting roasted twice in a row, Mephistopheles shook his head. "Save the tough talk. Your body out there's a lot harder than your mouth."
Before Nero could fire back, he kept going. "But since you're stuck here anyway, how 'bout a little bet?"
"A bet? Like last time?" Nero scoffed. "Didn't you already lose? Why don't you just admit defeat and zap me outta here? You're hooked up to the Root or whatever, right? You could do it."
"No can do," Mephistopheles said, shutting her down flat. "Rules are rules. No bet, no wish granted."
Nero crossed her arms, tilting her head back to glare down at him. "Fine. What's the bet?"
"Rock, paper, scissors," the demon said with a grin.
"Huh?"
"You heard me. 'Rock, Paper, Scissors.' Or 'Stone, Scissors, Cloth' if you're feeling fancy. Call it whatever. That's the game."
Nero blinked, thrown off. What the hell? Was this guy giving up on his usual schemes because he knew he'd lose, so he picked a game of pure luck instead?
She raised an eyebrow. "Your funeral. But what's this about? You just bored 'cause you're stuck here, looking for a laugh?"
"You could say that," Mephistopheles said, smirking. "Or maybe you think it's pointless? Just so you know, win or lose, there's no prize, no penalty."
His grin was pure provocation. Nero wasn't about to let him have the last word. "Pointless? Kicking your ass is all the point I need!"
And so, the rock-paper-scissors showdown began.
Round one: Scissors beats cloth. Nero wins.
"Hmph. That all you got?"
Mephistopheles didn't even flinch at her taunt. "No rewards, no punishments, remember?"
Round two: Rock beats scissors. Nero wins.
"Pathetic~"
Mephistopheles stayed cool as ever.
Round three: Nero wins again. Okay, now something felt off. She looked up, suspicious. "You throwing this on purpose?"
Mephistopheles just smiled, giving her nothing.
Round four, five, six… Didn't matter what Nero threw—she always came out on top.
By the thirtieth round, she was still tossing in a few jabs to mock him. But by the fiftieth? Sixtieth? She couldn't be bothered to talk.
Just throw, win, throw, win. Over and over. What was this guy's deal? Why keep letting her win on purpose? What's he after?
This game was no fun, no point. Finally, Nero threw up her hands and flopped back. "This is stupid."
"Of course it is," Mephistopheles said, chuckling. "Gotta say, I'm impressed you stuck with it this long."
"So what's your game, huh?"
"Just proving a point." Mephistopheles floated closer in the void, locking eyes with her. "You've beaten me so many times now, you're bored of winning. So let me ask you—still wanna beat me?"
"Hell yeah," Nero said without hesitation. "But not if you're just handing me the win."
"And how would you know if I'm throwing it or not?" Mephistopheles grinned wider. "Let's play one more round. I swear I won't go easy on you. But if you win, will you really believe I didn't let you? Or if we switch up the bet and I lose, would you buy that I'm not faking it?"
His words hit the nail on the head. Now, no matter how Nero won, she'd always wonder if he was pulling punches.
"…So?"
"Winning's lost all meaning for you," Mephistopheles said, his smile sharp. "It doesn't get you anything real, doesn't spark any joy—just pure, empty nothing."
Nero stared at his face, annoyed. "Yeah, yeah, spare me the lecture."
"So you admit it?"
"Sure, whatever."
"Then let's keep playing rock-paper-scissors. You in?"
"Knock yourself out," Nero said casually.
Mephistopheles froze, his expression stiffening.
"What's wrong?" Nero cracked her knuckles, eyeing the stunned demon with a smirk. "I'm ready to roll."
His voice turned heavy. "Mind telling me what's going through your head?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Why keep playing? You know I'll just keep losing."
Nero shrugged. "Dunno. Figured it's a decent way to keep track of time."
It was such a ridiculous answer that Mephistopheles let out a bitter laugh. He laughed, and laughed…
And then sighed. "I lose."
In that instant, his form started to blur. Golden specks of light scattered, filling the chaotic void with faint glimmers.
Nero blinked at him, confused. "What, you dying already?"
She hadn't even gotten to sock him one yet.
"I'm a spirit born from nothingness," Mephistopheles said, spreading his arms as his body began to dissolve. "But you? You've completely rejected that.
"Even in a void with nothing, you still find meaning in what you do. Never satisfied, never stopping… So it's only natural my existence fades away."
As his light particles started merging into Nero's body, he smiled. "For—"
Nero's fist slammed into his face.
"Don't go saying your goodbyes just yet," she said, flashing a grin of her own. "I'm not done beating you up."