Up high, the sun is happily shining. Deep blue turns to radiant white near the star’s light. Warming rays hit my skin. A breath in fills my lungs with refreshing air. What a beautiful day. Can’t the world take a hint and make it dreary? Gloomy clouds, drizzling rain, chilly wind, and the like.

  Xyll regards me with feigned disinterest. “What is it you think will happen? You win and everyone cheers? Reality bends to your will? Conflict flies away, never to be seen again?”

  “Balance is achieved?”

  He frowns. “Empty scales are always balanced.”

  “It’s not too late. We don’t have to fight.”

  “Our confrontation is inevitable.”

  “Why are my intentions so hard to believe? Why is what I brought to this world so insidious for you?” I spread my arms, motioning all around. “It’s all there. Proof. Proof that my progress is nothing but beneficial for all. Proof that this world is taking a step forward. Proof that we have... advanced.”

  “Still so naive.”

  “Maybe. But is being naive such a bad thing?”

  “...Perhaps not.” Xyll turns his gaze to the sky. “Our confrontation became inevitable the moment you put it in motion. And I might be stubborn, but I need to see that proof myself. Win or lose, my opinion of you will change at the end.” He smiles and places a hand in front of his mouth, suppressing a chuckle. “Hopefully, we don’t reach the same conclusion as some of Earth’s literary works containing a demon lord.”

  “Is that what this was all about, Your Majesty? You should have said so. Elisa will understand.” I shoot a smile her way.

  Watching and hearing everything from the balcony, the elf silently groans.

  “Hmm? I was talking about the ones where the demon lord loses, of course. What were you thinking of?” Xyll also turns to Elisa, his expression shifting from mocked confusion to a mocking grin.

  All four generals direct supportive looks her way, shedding their allegiances to answer our combined threat.

  “Uh-oh. They’ve united against us,” I say.

  “I already sleep with two eyes open,” Xyll replies. Falrilliat takes a slightly louder breath. The demon king actually sighs and turns back to me. “Can’t delay any longer.” I agree. “Ready?” I affirm. His gaze moves to where the announcer is. Xyll gives him a nod.

  The fight for demon king begins.

  Sharp ribbons of shadow silently extend out of my own and pierce my body in countless places. A white streak connects my hand to Xyll’s chest.

  Green glow, coupled with explosive regrowth, fix the damage. Writhing shadows close back up and disperse, revealing not even a tear in his clothing, just a hint of deep crimson.

  A claw of shadow shreds my metal dome, and then my body. Deep crimson wire wraps around Xyll. It tightens, around nothing but a phantom, already gone.

  A pulse of electricity finds my opponent. Another chases away the gathering shadows. Tendrils cast by my fading magic skewer me through. They grab and tear me to pieces, each chunk wrapped into a macabre package.

  A new shell emerges out of one, lightning scorching away the wispy shadow still clinging to my form.

  Xyll prepares a spell. He takes in a sharp breath and sneezes, disrupting his cast. My sword is put through his heart. Shadows furl around the blade. I cut up. His body splits in two. Shadows knit the two halves together, pulling them together with a snap. My weapon is crimson only because of its make. Xyll coalesces into his own shadow.

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  A wall of black splits the arena in two. Power descends upon the whole stadium.

  “Shadow Theatre: Subjugation of The Demon King.” “Artificial World.”

  As an aquamarine glow fades, the curtain opens. A group, made out of twisting shadows, is ready for their play.

  A spiffy human blinks next to me and strikes down with a large sword. My own comes up to block. His blow easily overpowers my strength and cuts me in two. A Knight occupies him for a split second.

  A graceful elf puts an arrow into my new shell. The arrow sprouts into a tree, consuming my flesh from within, growing tall in an instant. Her following arrow shatters a metal dart and continues on, passing through the Knight that tried to retaliate.

  The next shell is a crumpled heap, smashed into the ground by a muscular dwarf’s punch. A drone is swatted away as merely an afterthought.

  Fire incinerates into ash. Ice freezes in place and shatters. Earth crushes and pounds. Wind slits a thousand wounds. Water mangles in a whirlpool. The sagely dragon cycles through his arsenal until he hits... Lightning charges.

  A dagger stabs my back. The unseen gnome’s attack destructively destabilizes my retaliatory spell, making me take the full brunt.

  Teeth tear my throat out, the imposing beastfolk hunching over me to reach. A Knight slams into him.

  Another of my conjured drones gets an arrow to the head before it can tackle the gnome rogue too.

  My headless shell receives a barrage of stabs. I spin round and hit nothing. Mana refuses to follow my command. A large sword pushes the damage I have suffered into unrecoverable.

  A new shell barely dodges a ray of light. My reaction is anticipated. I move into the path of an arrow and a throwing knife. Two clawed hands bury themselves in my chest. The beastfolk rips me apart like tissue paper.

  Dwarf punches my short-lived shell into the path of a moving sword.

  A short fae hovers in the air. Her magic suspends my form in space, stopping my slash right before it bites into shadow. The human’s thunderous strike is drowned out by another sound. Wisps of dispersing shadow tumble through the air, disappearing as they hit the ground. The Knight responsible for dispatching the fae support with a railgun shot is a pincushion full of arrows, sharing in her fate.

  Piercing thrust aimed at the human is stopped before it can land true. My fist strikes the transparent barrier. Two surviving missiles, out of a conjured barrage, exacerbate the cracks I made. Protective magic shatters into shards. Two swords clash inside of a raging fireball. My shadowy opponent loses this exchange, dispersing into wisps.

  Dwarf and beastfolk leave behind a fading pile of disassembled parts, rushing for me. Their assault is intercepted by more metal.

  Dagger skids along superalloy. Force jerks the stealthy gnome away from a booming kick.

  Arrow is split in two. My sword hand rears back. Sharp snap. Elf is split in two. Improvised projectile embeds itself into the enclosing barrier, leaving me unarmed.

  Electricity crackles along my skin. Wreathed in lightning, I zip away from a lance of fire.

  Control over my sword clashes with another. Discharging my build-up potential, the clash turns out short-lived.

  Armed once again, a throwing knife is parried. A deep crimson needle, guided by pulses, puts an end to the gnome’s role early.

  Duo of Knights start pestering the dragon. Dwarf and beastfolk have taken care of their own pests.

  Aquamarine square grid appears between the two approaching shadow warriors. From that one small section, my magic starts expanding into a see-through maze of two-dimensional walls. Dwarf is sent on the scenic route. A single ineffective strike confirms he should follow the directions I’ve supplied.

  A growl fills the aquamarine tunnel. Beastfolk stops. The primal sound ripples through his shadowy body. He takes a step back. Roaring lightning propels me forward. Sword is stuck in his chest. Two clawed hands shred my head. My left grabs and pulls.

  Dwarf crashes into my back, both tumbling past dispersing shadow. My sword skids against a barrier of force covering his body. A railgun shot up high hits another barrier. A point-blank dart punctures the dwarf’s defenses, leaving a deep crimson crack. As shell collapses into inert gore, and shadow collapses into dispersing wisps, another shell lifts my gaze up.

  Darker shadows streak down the sagely dragon’s face, two lines below his eyes. A silent cry vaporizes my remaining constructs back to mana. Aquamarine glow flickers and goes. Shadows amass.

  The dragon unleashes his entire elemental arsenal in a singular focused attack. Core of metal, fire and ice, water and earth, wind and lightning, light and darkness, tendrils of shadow wrapped around the magic, his being sacrificed. The sheer power of the spell weakening reality in its wake. Multiple alerts flashing in my mind, relegated to the background, together with everything else, by an image starting to take shape.

  My hand lifts up. Pandemonium meets a brilliant white streak, like none I’ve ever cast before. Deep crimson dart encounters the dragon’s final effort. Enemy magic is pushed outward, deforming the combined projectile into a stretching torus, which rives itself apart, returning back to wisps of fading shadow. As the tip of my dart is about to touch the enclosing barrier, it too returns to wisps of mana.

  I hear words spoken from nowhere, “Shadow Theatre: Behind the Scrim.”