As he stepped from the portal, it's hue as black as the void he once called home, and its edges a sparkling, brilliant white, Darc found himself at a loss of words. To be seeing his homeland once again with his own eyes, not through some rudimentary periscope inside the boy's mind, it was truly something to behold. And as scattered, lime green bonfires raged in the distance, the countryside ravaged and an all but toppled Mewni looming in the distance, Darc did behold.

Where once there was an endless expanse of healthy green under a radiant pink sky, now there was ash and dust to cradle the skeletons of the forest he found himself in, the sky a smokey grey to hide even the sun from the harsh reality. Not one to stand on ceremony, Darc ignored the fresh new wasteland that was once Mewni and made his way towards the distant Butterfly Castle, eager to hurry his job along. Or at the very least, scout out the damages and form an idea as to the enemy he was due to face.

It didn't really come as a huge surprise, finding the lands of a once-proud Mewni laid to waste, Darc already knew full well what his counterpart was planning. He knew Vartek held one helluva grudge, and had some serious relationship troubles, but to literally raze the entire province was a little much, wasn't it? How much work could the guy be putting in just so he could remodel it all later? It's not like the trees and grass were Mewman scum and needed to be purged from his projected kingdom of Monsters.

But regardless, Darc saw little point in dwelling on that, instead directing his attention to the impending capital of the Butterfly Kingdom. It was still a ways off, but even at a distance he could smell the repugnant smoke hanging in the air, and see the crumbling structures beneath the onion-topped towers of the castle proper. What Darc didn't see, however, were Mewmans. He could remember well enough from both of his origins memories that the streets were always full of them, and the noise they produced carried out to the farmlands he was now walking through.

But there were no Mewmans in sight. The buildings were all abandoned, the streets set ablaze or reduced to ash; it produced an unsettling feeling in what was now his own gut, and Darc decided it best to proceed with caution.

Though, if he remembered properly, wasn't all this chaos and destruction a little early? The war shouldn't have started yet, going off of the previous one Marco had lived through. The mewmans were set to be partying, and he would have to duke it out with Vartek as he advanced on the city, but as it looked now, it appeared that Vartek had already moved on the Butterfly capitol. 'Moved on and decimated', Darc gauged as a more accurate statement. It was likely the Mewmans were caught off guard, and entirely unprepared for whatever Vartek had done to them.

Darc stopped for a moment, frowning at the emotions the sight ahead invoked. Or rather, he stopped to assess the lack of emotions swirling through him. Whatever empathy he wanted to derive from Marco, whatever satisfaction he knew he should feel from Vartek, there was nothing to fill his chest. It was as empty and colorless as the void, and it was infuriating.

To have to fight for his freedom, only to know that his life would still be void of all expression? The only thing he had ever truly expressed on his own, were the memories that brought him pain. Hell, he wasn't even a real person, he was two halves stitched together and given a mind of his own.

'C'mon, let's not dwell on that, there's still a lot we can do with our life,' he reasoned with a shake of his head, resuming his stride towards the city, 'there's uhm...birds! Birdwatching could be fun, lot's of food to try too! And suuuure, you might be ripping two soulmates apart to start over, but who's fault is that? Dummy shouldn't have thrown his life away.' Darc frowned through a face that wasn't his own, and decided for now to shelve those thoughts for when they mattered. He had a job to do, a girl to save, and a life to live, free from- *BOOM!*

His attention drawn to the domed towers just beyond the city walls, Darc marveled as a fireball of corrupted magic blew half of the onion roof into shrapnel, a plume of black smoke pouring from inside. He watched as cascading slabs of stone and debris demolished parts of the city below, but what took his attention immediately thereafter was a short brawl between two individuals, one giving the other an apparent thrashing.

Darc took the initiative to investigate and sprinted closer, using what little remained of the farmlands as cover, until he could just make out the two figures. One of them being Vartek, clearly, and the one getting thrashed… "Is that River?" Darc asked himself, trying to make out the details through the smoke and distance. He moved even closer, darting from crater to fallen trees, and then through a hole in the city wall as he kept his eyes on the figures. They were fighting in what remained of the tower, but with each passing second, it threatened to crumble beneath the fight.

Now close enough to feel the heat of each blast, Darc chanced a glance from around a destroyed house and found his earlier assessment to have been true: Vartek was fighting River. Or at least, Vartek was fighting a Turned river, one of his minions clearly not enjoying being a mindless zombie. But as River growled and fumed intelligible words to himself, Vartek seemed to be having fun, notably not hurting his prized grunt, but also not letting him shy away from a few well-deserved hits.

"What more could you possibly have to fight for, Old man?" Vartek called out, watching as River righted himself near the opening of the towers roof, "I turned your entire city into rubble, your kingdom into ash, your people into slaves, and yet still you will not obey. If nothing else, I grow bored with your pathetic display of resistance."

Darc watched as best he could from below as the Turned River grabbed a nearby stone and hucked it in Vartek's direction, the Septarian warrior simply batting it away. A new, displeased look on his face, Vartek muttered, "You carry that Johansen spirit, I'll give you credit. But after I turn your wife into a corpse, I wonder: will you still resist me then?" Without warning, Vartek shot forward and buried his burning fist into Rivers stomach, the force of the blow blasting the former king clear from the top of the tower, and decimating what was left of it in the process.

As River fell down to the ruined streets below, Darc couldn't help but find a touch of curiosity in how well he had fought for control, and he found curiosity further still as from the wreckage of an old inn, River emerged. Even worse for wear, the king ripped what was left of his clothes from his cracking chest, happy to leave it bare as he growled at Vartek, who jumped down from the tower and landed mere yards away. "Not that I don't enjoy our little talks, Johansen," he mused, brushing the dust from his shoulders as magic began to collect at his palms, "but I feel as though this is primarily one sided. So, shall we put an end to this? We appear to have company."

Rivers snarling and grunting quieted some as he turned his head, seemingly seeking out the newcomer to the party. Though, as he found nothing, he resumed his animalistic noises as Vartek sighed in resignation. "I know you're there, Boy. I can feel my energy coursing through your veins, so be a good lad and come out hmm?" Without provocation, Vartek used the energy collected in his right hand and blasted the building beside Darc to rubble, the shockwave displacing columns of ash and smoke.

Darc dove aside just in time, narrowly avoiding the explosion, but now found himself out in the open for both Vartek and River to see. Though, the former of the two took a visible interest in Darc's appearance before silencing River with a sudden blast of energy from his left hand. The corruption worsened across the king's chest, and in no time, he was as docile and malicious as a doberman. "Be a good king and round up your people," vartek ordered through a sneer, happy to see him obey for once, "I'm going to have a word with your ex future son-in-law."

Striding closer, careful and observant as a cobra, Vartek gestured to Darc with a smile before sitting on a ruined, charred armchair. "Tell me then, what's all this? I must say, you're looking well these days, Boy."

"What can I say, I take after my father," Darc was quick to note, a smile forming on his lips over a row of jagged teeth, "Buuut, my other dad is just a little bit more fun. Going on dates, exploring new places, You? You just sit around with your toy soldiers all day, so embarrassing."

Vartek's grin wavered slightly, but his mood was undeterred as he waved a hand, a signal for his 'toy soldiers' to come out and play. Within seconds, swarms of Turned monsters and Mewmans alike burst from the castle proper, from under rubble, from beneath the fires, they were everywhere. And there were a lot, far more than Darc had expected, likely close to a couple thousand of them all jam packed in every crevice and now itching to fight. "Hilarious, Boy. But what do you think of my 'hobby' now? I do plan on making a sizable trade, after all."

Now it was Darc's turn to lose his grin, an eyebrow arching in curiosity. "A trade? I made one of those a few minutes ago myself, actually," he offered, gesturing to his new body, "Got some sweet new digs from the kid. What are you gonna ask Santa for?" But Vartek wasn't smiling now, instead his eyes had shifted to that same brilliant topaz before he sat up, stretching his arms lazily. "I think you already know what I want, and for the right price? I'll get it," he mumbled, the joy now having been sucked out of the moment by the impudent brat, "I think I've saved up enough Mewmans to buy her back. This way, no one else has to suffer, unless they try to stop me."

"The only type of sacrifice that yields reward, is personal sacrifice," Darc spat, incredulous at the idea that she could be bought, much less with the lives of others, Darc gestured to the ruined city around them. "Annnnd, you don't think this is gonna make them just a little bit hesitant to 'trade' with you?"

Varteks eyes returned to their usual, toxic green as he readied himself, signaling his army to take a few steps back as his hands collected an insurmountable pool of corrupted magic. "What choice do they have?" Without warning, Vartek surged forward in a blur, on Darc in a millisecond before he pushed both palms forward, a solid wave of corruption blasting outwards through the boy's chest. What followed was a blinding flash of light, as a hundred yards of land behind him was suddenly wiped from existence. The blast leveled buildings and scorched the earth below, surely enough to get the job done, and then some, but Vartek started in surprise when the smoke cleared, and the boy was unharmed.

"Yeeeaaaaah, see...I run on that stuff, same as you," Darc quipped, dropping into a ready stance as Vartek could only watch, "Trying to 'Turn' me or whatever is just gas in the tank, big guy." Darc jumped, twisting his body in a fashion he half-remembered, before swinging his heel into the side of Varteks face, pouring as much teal fire into the connection as he could. Similar to Varteks attack, the blast cleared a block of destroyed houses and turned dirt into glass, but also similar was the effect on the target. When the smoke cleared, Vartek stood proud and unharmed, a sinister glare adorned across his face.

"Heh, don't suppose we could talk it-" Darc began before a magically charged fist slammed into his face, a concussive blast sending him rolling through the city's wall and into the farmland beyond. He had seconds to right himself and dig his heels into the passing grass before Vartek was on him again, this time slamming two closed fists down hard enough to bury his opponent and send metric tons of dirt in all directions.

But as fast as the wind, Darc was back up and raring to go, shooting a barrage of punches to Varteks gut, sides, and jaw, before driving it home with a magically-charged Axe kick. His heel made contact, but it did little to slow the hurricane that came in return. Vartek was just as quick to throw two jabs at Darc's blocks before jumping, driving both heels into his gut was all the force of a tomahawk missile.

An explosion ensued, but Darc braced the force as best he could and staggered back before rushing forward to disarm Vartek with a flurry of teal flames. He jumped, blasting the air beneath him with enough force to send him rocketing higher as Vartek swiped away the trick flames and searched for his enemy. But high above, at the apoapsis of his ascent, Darc blasted the air once more to send himself hurtling toward the ground at speeds high enough to kill. Vartek had a split-second to look up as two clenched fists zoomed into sight though the smoke, and Darc fancied a smile to see it work.

That was, of course, just before the strike hit true. Vartek summoned a wave of toxic magic and forced it upward to catch Darc midair, the effects slowing the boy down to a crawl as he fell. The Septarian flashed a grin of his own and grabbed Darc's fists before blasting into the air in the same fashion, taking his opponent with him and subsequently Dive Bombing the boy with a kick strong enough to shatter stone. He watched, pleased with himself as Darc was sent hurtling into the ground below, a shockwave tearing the ground wide open in his wake. Satisfied with the daring show of force, Vartek fell to the impact site and waited, eager to see what would come next.

Standing above the crater as the dust settled, Vartek folded his arms in disgust as he chided, "Do not overestimate your borrowed strength, and do not be so insolent as to strike me with your bare hands. It is by all accounts my own patience to thank that you still draw breath, and that can be changed in an in-"

"Phoenix burst."

From the crater, an orange fireball in the form of a bird roared to life before shooting through Vartek's chest like a thousand arrows. The torrent of flames screamed into the sky behind him, smoke trailing back to Darc as the boy shook off the loose dirt and readied himself into a fighting stance. Vartek was quick to heal, clenching his fists as the singed hole in his chest filled with flesh and bone, but he was too distracted to dodge the next spell Darc had been taught. "Lance of Weeping Blood."

As Vartek finished re-forming the skin inside his armor, he had time only to turn and duck before registering the sudden force running through his shoulder. It was a branch, sharpened to a point and running ten feet through him, leading back to the ground beneath the boys feet. He glanced at his shoulder, finding the wound superficial, but the very idea of the spell enough to bring him laughter. "What is this?" he asked though curled lips, "A spell that grows limbs of the Weeping Blood tree?"

Darc's own confident smirk fell as he found that Vartek was neither dead nor dying even after taking a hit from the spell crafted to kill him. "What-... why aren't you dead?" was all he managed to ask before Vartek snapped the branch in half, pulled the wood from his shoulder and drove it right through Darc's stomach. Immediately, lime blood began to pour from the wound, Darc struggling against the foreign object as Vartek loomed over him. And though the boys' screams echoed all the way to Butterfly castle, there was no one to hear them but his enemy.

"That spell would have surely killed me when I was still a Septarian. Hell, an arrow of that tree almost killed me in battle, many years from now," Vartek mused, healing his shoulder and driving the stake deeper into Darc's stomach as the boy gargled blood between his screams, "What, was that your trump card? Did Glossaryck teach you that, assuring you it would slay me in one fell swoop? PATHETIC!" With a boom, Vartek hurled a calculated punch into Darc's chest, blasting the wood to splinters and driving him deep into the side of the crater.

"I have done things they only speak of in legends, I have stolen from the GODS, I have split my soul and dipped my hands in the well of the fates to bring her back, and you thought you could stop me NOW?" Another punch, this one across the Warrior formerly known as Marco's face, "I have survived genocide, apocolypse, war, and even transversed time itself!" Vartek listed in rage with punches before sending a venomous kick to Darc's temple, shooting his rolling body across the rows of burned crops, "There is nothing inside me for that tree to burn, as there is nothing inside you left worth taking!"

Vartek blasted himself closer and delivered another kick to Darc's ribs, his body tossed like a rag doll through a deserted farmhouse. But as before, Vartek was there, standing above him as he tumbled to a stop amidst the rubble, readying his hand with deep, green magic. "I have taken what I need from you, and you have far outlasted my patience with your worthless spells, annoying tricks, and arrogant talk!" he boomed, the magic in his palm crystallizing to form a dagger, "My only regret, is that I couldn't make the girl watch as I severed your head from your shoulders. But rest assured, you will be with yours sooner than I will be with mine."

'The girl…'

Darc's eyes struggled to open as the blurred, hazy world around him teetered between darkness and light, one statement being the only sound that reached his ears. 'You have to keep Star safe, no matter the cost.' That condition had given him his life, and now it would be his death. He'd been alive for less than an hour, and already he was broken, impaled, queued for death, and a little hungry. 'This fuckng sucks,' was the one thought he could form in his final moment, and with it came the idea that if he was going to die, he might as well piss off daddy a little.

"Before ya do that, I gotta know," he managed to wheeze, barely strong enough to sit upright, yet having caught Varteks attention for at least a moment, "Did you at least say goodbye to Silva? Before you left?"

Silence.

Vartek was expressionless as he held his dagger aloft, his fist curled tight around the handle. If nothing else, he felt it only proper to share the answer with the only remaining peice of himself that was left. "There was no time to-" he began, but Darc cut him off, waving his hand as best he could to silence his killer. "So the guy stealing from the gods, rewriting history, corrupting the world, waging wars, AND studying magic, 'didn't have time' to say goodby to his now orphaned daughter? Worst. Dad. Ever. And I'm speaking for both her and I."

A low growl formed in Vartek's throat as he readied his blade, his patience all but consumed. With one last yell, he backed the hilt of his dagger with his palm before driving down with explosive fury, his eyes a blazing green and his voice enough to shake Mewni itself. But just as his blade was ready to make contact, Darc fell. He fell down, right into the opened maw of a dark portal, disappearing from sight before it closed in Varteks face.

More silence as Vartek knelt in place, the tip of his dagger sheared off and lost to the portal forever. Staring at the bloodied and vacant spot in the dirt, surprise gave way to understanding, before immediately yielding to unfathomable rage. He said nothing as he stood, and he made no baseless cry of defeat as he dissolved his weapon and cleaned his hands cordially, there was only the whisper of wind through the ruins around him as he turned towards Butterfly castle, his face stoic and cold. And as he began to trek back towards his army, back towards the new future of the Mewni he had personally laid waste to, he spoke.

"I'll have you in my grasp, soon my love. Wait for me, and I will set you free."

~Mr. Ronald Reagan