Marco fought for his life. The journey to the village was proven to be a dangerous ride for him. Monsters and beasts tried to stand in his way, but he was able to fend them off, despite having a sprained ankle. He was lucky none of them were working with the lawyer who was trying to put him back inside the glass chamber.

He didn't push on unscratched, however. Some monsters were able to scratch him, bruise him, and, if they're lucky, pin them down. Nevertheless, the ones who tried to challenge Marco were left unconscious.

He is bleeding. There were marks all over him. He had a bruised eye, a shirt that's nearly ripped from the front and back, and a slightly big scratch on the leg that held the sprained ankle. He feared that some of his marks may contained a poison he is unaware of, but he can deal with that some other time. He is close to ending his suffering. He is close to getting back to Star.

The journey took him all morning, but he arrived to his destination. It is exactly how he remembered it when Star took him and his family took a trip over here. Children were roaming around, either playing with the very little material that they had, or ending up in a cauldron unapologetic-ally. Their moms were here, but they were as miserable as the princesses at St. Olga's Reform School, for they had to deal with their whining voices. There were certain markets here as well, offering materials that Marco was unfamiliar with. Lastly, there was the animals in the barn, relaxing in their small fences as if they living the dream.

Marco slowly walked around the village with his walking stick. He assured himself that if he could get inside the big castle unnoticed, he would be able to convince the king and queen to send him back home. But his doubts began to reach his mind. Whatever poisoned his insides were starting to affect him greatly. Almost everything became a blur to him. He couldn't quite read the signs on the villagers' houses when he passed them by. He felt like the rabbit moving slow when he was back into the time dimension. His knees were getting weak, and his grip on the stick wasn't going to last long.

It's motion sickness all over again.

A villager girl sat outside her house, looking at her surroundings. Despite all the whining coming from the children, it felt peaceful around here. She admired the quietness around the village, even if the village was garbage. She always thought it was nice to sit outside her house and smell the fresh Mewni air instead of being trapped inside and waiting for something exciting to come running in. Suddenly, her eyes witnessed a sick and damaged man walking by the streets, with the stability of a walking stick to move him along. Without hesitation, she got off her seat and walked towards him in an attempt to see if he can fix him.

Marco instantly halted as soon as a villager girl halted his trail. The girl asked her, "Excuse me, sir, but are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he responded to her, as his tone quickly got weaker. "I just need to get on my way."

"Are you sure? You're all banged up. You should stop while you're ahead."

"I assure you, I am fine. Could you please let me get going?"

"Where exactly are you going?"

"I must head to the castle. I have to talk to talk to the king and queen."

He was about to walk past her to march onward, but the girl laid her hand on his torn grey shirt. The both of them were hoping this won't resort to violence on the streets of Mewni.

"You can't leave," she warned him. "Not in this condition."

"I already told you, my condition is fine," Marco answered, as he clenched his fist. "Just let me go to the castle."

"Quit the act! You'll only make this worse."

"You don't understand! I have to go! I must head back! I need to see her again..."

Marco's sickness finally got the best of him. He couldn't even make his eyes stay open when he said those words. He couldn't feel the villager's hand on his chest, nor he could hang on to the walking stick that kept him straight. And now, like a lumberjack chopping a tree in a forest, his whole body fell face first into the pavement, with his eyes fully shut.

"Sir?" the girl asked him.

She took his face off the dirt. She was hoping the person she just talked too wasn't dead. She was only trying to save him, after all. Both of her her hand were grabbing on his shirt, as he shook him back and forth to see if he is still breathing.

"Sir?!" the villager began to scream. "SIR?! SIR?! DON'T DIE ON ME! GET UP, GET UP!"

Certain people began to hear the screaming. It toppled the whining of the babies, making it sound like if was a crime scene. As loud as it may sound like, none of those people went to the screeching sound, for they were easily minding their own business.

"SIR?!" she screamed again. "DON'T DIE ON ME!"