#marxolor

Magolor felt like he was trapped in a nightmare.

It must have been a nightmare. It had to be! No amount of fear, pain, or torment he'd experienced in the past could compare to this. After putting on that infernal crown, he thought everything would be under his control. But during the battle with Kirby, he was proven wrong. Dead wrong. For when the tides had turned against him, the crown unveiled its true potential, taking complete control of Magolor's body.

Nothing about him was truly his anymore. His body had been twisted and stretched in such a horrifying way, far more unnatural than he'd already been. The crown had morphed itself in a way that it could not be removed, metal tendrils snaking around its host like a serpent constricting its prey.

And indeed, Magolor felt constricted. It was as if every move strangled the air out of him, leaving him gasping and choking, struggling to breathe. And this mouth - one he'd never had before - offered no relief to the struggle; for it, too, had been affixed with some sort of thing that remained trapped there, unable - unwilling - to be expelled.

And that wasn't all. The more the battle dragged on, the more Magolor felt his own consciousness slipping away. It was as if the crown was digging itself into his entire state of being, preventing him from being able to think. Think about anything except the pain. The relentless, unceasing, agonizing pain that seemed to twist itself into him at every possible second.

At some point during the battle - he wasn't sure exactly when - he closed his eyes. Whether it was the crown forcing them shut or he just refused to open them again was unknown. He didn't care anymore. All he wanted was for this pain to end. For something, anything, to end this suffering. Put him out of his misery. For even the battle with Kirby offered no relief from the torment when it concluded.

Or... had it even concluded at all? He couldn't tell anymore. The only clue he'd had was hearing the puffball's voice call out to him before dissipating into nothingness. Or perhaps, it was him who had disappeared. For all he could feel around him now was an endless void. No objects, no people, nothing to be found.

Alone.

That's how it would be, he supposed. Being trapped in an endless void, bound to a parasite that existed solely to torment its host, with no sign of relief to be found. All alone.

Please... he thought desperately, ever so briefly before the pain consumed him again. Please just make it stop... Anything...

"Why hello there, fancypants," a voice suddenly called out.

Magolor forced his eyes open again - or the crown did, he wasn't sure anymore. He looked around, noticing the void surrounding him was full of distant stars. Not quite as empty as he'd expected.

"Seems you've got quite the glowup there, magic man," the voice spoke again, closer this time. Magolor's body moved, the crown seeming just as curious about the source of the voice as he was, and his eyes fell upon a face he never thought he'd see again.

Marx... he thought, the unmistakable shape of a jester hat gracing his vision. Although, he didn't quite look the same as he used to. His body was a deeper shade of purple, his violet eyes little more than slits, even moreso than his usual "true form". His wings were a deep pink instead of gold, his claws much sharper than before (as if that were possible), and from his mouth coiled a long, snake-like tongue that seemed to move of its own accord.

Speaking of which, Magolor felt himself drifting towards his old partner, the crown on his head that had a mind of its own seemingly just as fascinated by the sight. There were so many things he wanted to say; it'd been so long since he'd last seen the jester, and clearly a lot had changed since then. He wanted to tell Marx just how much he missed him, to tell him what he thought about Marx's "glowup", to beg him for some kind of relief from the torment he'd been put through after putting on this wretched crown.

There were so many things he wanted to say. And yet, he could not say anything at all. His voice had been constricted just like the rest of his body, unable to be heard.

Except... maybe it wasn't.

"Maaaaarx..." he heard himself rasp out through the wriggling thing in his mouth. It hardly sounded like his voice at all. He wasn't even sure it came from him. It sounded as if the void around them spoke for him, echoing through the vastness.

Marx licked his lips, that classic smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "So you can still talk, eh?" he mused, his own voice containing a rasp not too dissimilar from Magolor's. "That's too bad. I was hoping that crown of yours would've done a better job."

As if in reaction to Marx's words, the crown thrust Magolor forward, an unnatural sound erupting forth as his hands stretched out, looming over Marx like a predator that was about to pounce.

Marx didn't even flinch. His smirk widened as he said, "Temper, temper. Take a chill pill, will ya? I'm just having a conversation with my pal."

Magolor felt his body "relax" - whatever that meant anymore - backing away from Marx slightly. But he could still feel the crown's anger. Anything could set it off, and if it did, he would be punished for it. Everything he had was dangling in the grasp of such a vile object, and even treading lightly didn't guarantee that he wouldn't lose it all at any given moment.

Still, though, he wanted to at least try.

"Maaaaarx..." his voice rang out again, echoing through the void as if there were anything for the sound to bounce off of.

Marx crept forward, his smirk never faltering. "Yessss?" he hissed, his tongue flicking out as he spoke.

"Can't... control... Crown... too strong..."

Marx tilted his head, a quizzical look crossing his face. He licked his lips again, then smirked. "Can't control at all, eh? Need some help with that?"

Magolor felt the crown digging itself deeper into him. A subtle warning of what were to happen if he disobeyed its command. His eyes were unfocused, his mind barely able to concentrate from the immense pain in his body. It took so much effort for him to force the next words out.

"Can't... help... Too late... for me..."

A single tear left Magolor's eye, drifting off into the void like a dandelion in the wind.

"I'm... sorry..."

Magolor closed his eyes again, wanting to shut himself off from the rest of the universe. The agonizing pain he'd felt since this entire ordeal began... it couldn't compare to the pain in his heart, knowing that the life he wished he could live was far out of his reach. Knowing that the one he most wanted to share it with, standing before him in this endless void, was unable to free him from the chains that bound him.

He'd failed Marx. Not just him, but everyone around him that he's ever known. He'd failed them all.

This was his punishment. Not to be trapped in a world of nothingness with a parasite attached to him, unable to be expelled. But to have the one he loved most, trapped here same as he was, just out of reach. The cruellest punishment he could ever receive.

"Maaaaaarx..."

Suddenly, he felt something brush against his hand. He didn't open his eyes; if he didn't look, he wouldn't be disappointed. But then the same thing brushed against his other hand, almost grasping it in a way.

He forced his eyes open, meeting Marx's once more.

"Don't worry, buddy," the jester told him, his smile never faltering. His tongue withered and writhed within his mouth as he spoke. "I'm not going anywhere. We're both stuck in this place. No reason why we can't be stuck together."

Together...

That word echoed in Magolor's mind, drowning out the sensations he'd been tormented by for so long. Together... a single word with a simple meaning. Yet it seemed to hold all the answers in the universe.

"You don't have to be alone, Mags," Marx continued. His claws grasped Magolor's hands, the tips grazing at his skin. Not enough to draw blood. Just enough for them to be felt through all the pins and needles. "We can both suffer here... for all eternity."

Magolor closed his eyes again, only one thing on his mind. What little energy he had left, he used it to grind out the three words he wanted to say, long before all of this went down.

"I... love... you..."

And for a moment, the pain he'd felt for so long, the sting in his heart that seemed to pang him so relentlessly... maybe, just for a moment, some of it dulled.