“Veritas,” Mary said, lifting the cup. “What is this?”

“Just try it. My word it is safe.”

Mary raised an eyebrow at the boy, who smirked at her.

“If you don't trust my first word, why would you trust the second?” He drank his drink.

His expression contrasted against the solemn piano music of the background, but... Mary looked deeper into his unnaturally white eyes, and...

She shrugged, then sighed, but finally followed suit. The amber liquid tasted like molten candy and warmed her throat on its way down despite being cool. The bubbles tingled her mouth and sent waves of invigorating energy through her entire body.

“That's... good, actually.”

Veritas smirk twitched. “Told you. Just don't overuse it, please. We wouldn't want you to get addicted, now, would we?”

Mary paused with her cup still in the air. “So... addictive doesn't count as unsafe in your world, I presume?”

“Everything can be addictive if you mess up. Coffee. Sweets. Friends. Pain.” He shrugged. “But in moderation, at least this stuff is good. I wouldn't lie about it. Or, well, I wouldn't lie, period, I guess.”

Mary turned her head away and focused on the stars. They looked the same as the last time, in some ways... except they no longer seemed hostile or uncaring. She thought about different stars, white rifts of reality that she'd never see again, and the image blurred as tears welled in her eyes again.

“Thank you,” she said and wiped her face with an arm. “So, what do you want?”

It was Veritas's turn to gaze into the abyss.

“What do I want? Well, that's quite a tricky question. But the question's hardness doesn't have to be related to its importance, and in this case, I'm afraid that's exactly the case. Thanks for asking, though.” He sipped his liquid again.

Well, he didn't promise to stop being annoying...

“So, what question do you think is important?” Mary asked.

“Well... I can't really tell you, can I? I mean, everyone has to decide what's important for them on their own, and I-”

“Veritas. I didn't ask what is important in general, or even for me - I asked about your opinion.”

The villain paused. Then smiled. Really smiled.

Well, it wasn't a particularly wide smile, or even a particularly warm one, but it reached all the way to his eyes.

“It's always nice to see a person growing, you know? I'm moved,” he wiped a nonexistent tear from his eye. “Well, I did mean what I said - so, what's important for you really depends on you, and I can't tell you that. But if I were you, now that you look for what others want, it is time to look inside for a change. What do you want, Mary?”

“Well...” she took a deep breath. The warm tingling in her muscles made her want to move around and possibly dance, but she didn't think that's what her villain asked. Also, it would have to be raining for the proper tone, and rains weren't all that common in the void between stars. And... ok, let's go back a step. “I want all of this to end. It's... it's just too much. And I don't want anyone getting hurt because of me ever again.” And she wanted her Creep back.

The boy tilted his head. “Do you think this to be your fault?”

“Of course it's my fault. Heck, you said it yourself the first time we met!”

“Mary, Mary, Mary... let's rewind the clock for a moment, shall we?”

Mary's stomach vocally complained as the entire island lurched, and flew into some different piece of the void. Both the cups and the teapot tilted for the journey, and neither spilt a single drop. She saw another island, and two figures standing atop it were slightly blurred, but the voice she heard was clear.

“...Your party is on the verge of death, all three of you. You could have truly saved them, you know? If only you had remembered your lessons just a moment earlier...” a smooth, yet slightly annoyed voice said. Veritas's voice.

“I don't-” Mary started to say, but their island lurched back, and she was left trying to get her organs under control.

“I do believe I owe you an apology,” the boy said, leaving Mary speechless. “I was rather angry with you at the time, as you may or may not have noticed, and my words were... ill-considered, let's say. However, I had never lied to you, nor am I ever intending to do so in the foreseeable future.”

The girl blinked. “You said I could have saved them. How is not doing so not my fault?”

The corner of Veritas's lips twisted, and he threw a black ball at Mary. She snatched it out of the air, and immediately noticed a distinct, uneven surface of a grenade. It also had a keypad, and a timer currently set to ten.

“Ten seconds. Four-digit code. Try it.” He snapped his fingers, and the clock started to tick. Nine. Eight...

“Wait! What are you doing?” Six... “What's the code!?”

Veritas smirk deepened. Four... Mary threw the grenade away, but instead of falling into the void, it turned around like a boomerang, and...

A few gallons of cold water exploded from the bomb and flew toward Mary as the countdown finished. In a second, she was soaked to the bone and greatly annoyed. At least her drink wasn't damaged - the cup somehow sensed the danger and flew away at the last moment.

“Veritas! What was that supposed to be?!”

“A lesson.” The boy sipped his own drink. “Tell me, is it your fault that you're wet now?”

“What? Of course not - it's yours!”

“Exactly! But you could have stopped it. Had you entered the code 0451, the mechanism would simply play a cheerful tune instead.”

“And how could I have known that?” She said almost calmly.

“Ah, that's the joke, isn't it? There's always a path we could have taken, a strategy we could use, hundreds of inventions we could come up with, spells we could discover...”

Mary thought about that for a moment. “I don't think that applies to my case...”

Veritas shrugged. “Feel free to be wrong, I guess. Losing is sometimes the necessary lesson preparing us for victory. Would you behave the same now, as you did then?”

“...no.”

“See? You've grown.”

“That sounded weird for a villain...” And familiar... “Wait. Are you an authorianic?”

The boy sighed. “Why the heck is everyone always surprised... Yes, Mary, I belong to the most dominant religion of this multiverse. How is this something surprising?”

“I mean... you're a villain...”

The piano changed its melody to something tenser. Rising.

“You said you wanted the suffering of your friends to end. Tell me, is it us, villains who hurt them? Is it just you? Or is there someone... or something... else?”

Mary shifted her eyes to the stars again. There was.

“And,” Veritas continued, “Would you do what it takes to stop them?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Then,” the boy leaned in closer, “in your heart, so are you.”

The darkness between the stars darkened, and suddenly Veritas, the island, and the candy-like-liquid-party all slowly faded to black. Soon, Mary found herself dreaming a normal dream about surfing on a hamster.