He looked back. He saw the Prince running towards him. The sun was on his back, making it look as if the light came from him.

  The Prince stopped. "Why did you leave?" the Prince demanded. "We still didn't finish the game."

  Arthur stared at him.

  "A draw isn't a result," the Prince said. "It's not what I wanted. And it's not what you wanted." He smirked. "Or... are you shy?"

  "I am not." Arthur smiled.

  He lost the other game but a deal was struck every Friday was their time….

  He walked out. As the door closed, the Prince looked up from the board. He was furious. "He lost," Frank said from the kitchen.

  "He got lucky that he got that first draw," the Prince snapped.

  "He's good." Frank replied.

  "He's sloppy," the Prince said. "But he'll be better. Next Friday."

  Arthur walked back home. His father and mother were waiting for him.

  They saw what happened at the school. It was Broadcast on the TV. There was a good amount of shouting. A big fight.

  But Arthur wasn't attacking. He wasn't even there. He was just looking at one thing in his mind: The Ticket. That was the only reality that mattered.

  He went to his room and looked out the window.

  He got the smoke out. He looked at the stars. For the first time, he looked at the moon... and asked her for a dance. She accepted. And the night was a dance.

  "So cool," a voice said. Arthur looked over. Jasmine was at her window.

  "What is cool?" Arthur asked, exhaling smoke. "The weather?"

  "No. You."

  "I am not."

  "No, you are," she insisted. "Just accept it."

  Arthur looked at her. Then he looked back at the sky. "I won't," he said. "Plus... I am not as cool as you, Miss Moon."

  Jasmine's eyes went wide. She turned bright red. "You... you said w-what?"

  "I said I am not as cool as you Miss Moon."

  She slammed her window shut, hiding her face. Arthur stood there, taking a breath of his smoke.

  "What was wrong with her?"

  The next day in school and the stares were heavy. They became a physical weight, pressing down on him from every side.

  Arthur walked through the halls, his head high. The stares were heavy... but he was now a bodybuilder. He could carry it.

  He walked into class, and everyone gasped. It was as if the air had vanished from the room. He sat at his chair, looking at the complex equation on the board.

  “Arthur?” the teacher said. “Come and solve this equation.”

  Arthur stood up, walking to the board for the thousandth time…

  He took the marker and started staring at the equation.

  But for the first time he couldn’t solve it maybe because his head was full of dreams that killed the logic in his head.

  “Arthur?” The teacher raised an eyebrow.

  But his voice abandoned him.

  he stayed there for a second silent as a stone.

  and the whispers got louder and louder with the minute.

  “Okay don’t worry about it Arthur go and sit.”

  He went and sat at his chair.

  He looked at mirror and he looked at a stranger.

  The bell rang. He went to the cooking club. The day before, he had been assigned "The Leader." The students looked at him with awkwardness.

  Arthur sighed. He clapped his hands once. "Okay. Since I am the leader of the club, I have to make some changes."

  They looked at him with unsure stares.

  "We have been baking for quite some time," Arthur said, pacing like a general. "So, I have made a schedule. Every two weeks, we are changing the kitchen. This week is the Italian Kitchen. The next one is the French Kitchen. And after that, we are voting on the kitchen for the next cycle."

  He stopped and looked at them seriously.

  "I know some of you think this is just a club. But I love cooking. And when I love something... I want to give it the best."

  He pointed to the stations. "So today, we are making pizzas. Let's get into it."

  He went between them, checking on the progress, correcting dough, tasting sauces. He wasn't a bully; he was a Chef.

  At the end of the day, there were pizzas. And more importantly... there was stability.

  Arthur walked out of school. He found Sam standing there, leaning against a car. "Hey, Sam," Arthur said. "What are you doing here?" "Waiting for my sister. To take her home." "Big brother taking care of his little sister. How sweet."

  Sam narrowed his eyes. "Hey. I've been wanting to say this to you. Don't speak to Daniel in that way." "Which way?" "You know. The way you talked to me."

  Arthur smirked. "I am sorry, but I don't get the problem with 'the way' I speak." "I don't know why Daniel wants you to come," Sam spat. "Or what he sees in you. But he has some strange taste these days."

  Arthur stepped closer, his gray eyes cold. "He sees what he couldn't see in you," Arthur whispered. "That's it."

  Sam froze. "I'm sorry... what?" "I am just saying... he came all the way here, gave me an address. But you live in the same house. Why didn't he tell you to come and play?"

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  Sam stared at him. Then, surprisingly, he chuckled. "You really sound like him," Sam said. "Well, actually... since I respect smartness, and you are smart... I can acknowledge that. But you are wrong. He doesn't play with me because he fears my emotions. That I will feel sad, since I don't like losing. So be grateful that I even speak to you."

  "Like it's a gift?" Arthur scoffed. "No. The gift is that I took some of my time to play with your 'roommate'."

  Arthur pulled out a cigarette. He handed it to Sam. "Here. Take this smoke. You will need it. Get your anger out with it."

  Sam took it. He smiled. "You really sound like my father."

  Then, Sam saw Sally coming. He walked toward her, but he stopped. Her face was changed. "What happened, Sally?" "Nothing, Sam." "No. There is something. You don't look fine." "I said there is nothing." "No," Sam said, his voice dropping. "We won't leave until you tell me what happened."

  "Okay," she whispered. "But promise you won't kill anyone." "What?" "Just promise. I don't want to make trouble for Dad." Sam sighed. "I promise."

  "So... there was a boy. He had a crush on me. He confessed yesterday, and I rejected him. So today... I thought he would vanish. But he didn't. He kept... flirting with me. He wouldn't stop."

  Sam's face became a block of ice. "Why didn't you kill him?"

  "What?"

  "I said... why-didn't-you-kill-him?"

  "Because I don't want to make trouble for Dad!"

  "You are a Type 4," Sam hissed.

  "I know."

  "And you didn't use your powers?" Sam looked around. "Where is he?"

  "Sam..."

  "I SAID WHERE IS HE."

  She pointed. A 17-year-old boy, walking with a group of friends, laughing. "You promised," Sally pleaded.

  "I know," Sam said. He moved his hand. A sharp, invisible force sliced through the air.

  SPLAT.

  The boy's hand—the one he likely used to touch her—was gone. Severed at the wrist. Blood sprayed. The boy screamed, falling to his knees. Chaos erupted on the street.

  Sam looked at Sally. "I promised I wouldn't kill him," Sam said. "And I didn't." He looked at the cigarette Arthur gave him. He chuckled. "Well. That will come in handy now."

  Arthur, standing by the school gate, heard the scream. He saw the boy holding his stump. He heard the words: "Like out of nothing! I was just walking!"

  Arthur looked at the bloody scene, he smiled. "Well," he thought, "this looks like a Type 3 thing."

  Sam walked in, defiant. Sally looked sad. Daniel noticed it. He blinked. The Prince "woke up."

  "Yo," the Prince said. "Why do you look like you saw a ghost?"

  "Dad... he-" Sally started.

  "I did the right thing," Sam interrupted, crossing his arms.

  "Well," the Prince said calmly, "I can't decide unless I know what happened."

  They told him the story. The flirting. The warning. The severed hand. The Prince became cold. Dead cold. Inside the mindscape, even Daniel looked scared.

  "Hey, bro... relax," Daniel thought. "How can I relax, Daniel?"

  "Just... don't kill him."

  "I won't," the Prince said aloud. He looked at Sam. "My son did the right thing."

  He walked to Sam and patted him on the back. "Good job protecting your sister. That is the man I raised."

  He turned to Sally. "But you, Sally... you should have done that yourself." She flinched. "But," he softened, "I won't blame you. It might have been quite messy."

  He hugged her. She was shaking. "Everything is fine, sweetheart," he whispered into her hair. "No one can hurt you. I broke the Glass World to protect you all. And maybe I can't break this world... but I will kill whoever hurts you."

  He held her until she stopped shaking. He brushed her tears away. "Come. Let's go for a walk."

  He took her to the park. "Sit here," he said. "I will go and get us ice cream." He walked to the shop. The guy serving the ice cream smiled.

  "Want me to write something on it?" the guy asked. The Prince looked confused.

  "Why?"

  "I confessed to my wife here," the guy said, winking. "This place is a pretty good spot for that." "No. Don't."

  "Okay, okay. But the chance comes once!"

  "She is my daughter," the Prince said. "Not my girlfriend."

  The guy froze. He looked at the Prince, then over at Sally. They looked like they were in the same grade.

  The Prince noticed. "Yeah. I know. Anyway, thanks for the ice cream."

  The Prince grabbed the cones and walked back to Sally, laughing.

  "The guy serving the ice cream thought you were my girlfriend," he said, handing her a cone. She chuckled. "But you do look young, Dad."

  The Prince smiled, tapping his temple. "Young in looks... ancient in mind."

  They finished their ice cream. The Prince wiped his hands. "So," he said, "want to have some fun? Just you and me?"

  "Fun?" Sally asked. "What fun?"

  The Prince smiled. "I heard that Scarlet opened her shop near here."

  Sally's face went pale. She froze. "Scarlet..." she whispered. "You mean... that Scarlet?" "Yes. That Scarlet. Let's go and check on her."

  He stood up. Sally didn't move. She took his hand, her grip tight. "Dad... are you sure?"

  He brushed a stray hair from her face. "No one," he said, his voice low and absolute, "will hurt you when I am here."

  She looked at him. She believed him. She smiled, grabbing his hand tighter. "I love you, Dad."

  "I love you too."

  The shopkeeper watched them go.

  He shook his head, wiping down the counter. "What the heck is going on with young people these days?"

  They walked into a mundane supermarket. Fluorescent lights. Canned food. Normal. The Prince walked straight to the cashier. "The owner," he said. "The owner lives on the floor above us," the cashier said, not looking up. "If you want to talk to her." "Yeah. Thanks, man."

  He walked up the stairs to the apartment above. Sally was grabbing his arm so tight her knuckles were white. He knocked.

  "Yes?" a teen's voice called from inside. "Who is this?" "It's Daniel," the Prince said calmly. "The Prince."

  Inside, they heard a sharp gasp for air. Then a crash—the sound of a body falling over in panic. "W-what..." the teen stammered from the floor. "What do you want?"

  "Don't be scared," the Prince said, leaning against the doorframe. "I didn't come to kill you. Not today. I just want to meet your mom."

  Then, a woman's voice—Scarlet—shouted from deeper inside. "Alan! What is going on?" "The Prince!" Alan screamed. "He is at the door!"

  Silence. A long, heavy silence. "So," Scarlet's voice came, closer now. Resigned. "He finally came." She spoke through the wood. "You want to kill me, Prince?"

  "No. I just wanted to talk." "Talk?" "Yeah. Just a friendly chat."

  The peephole darkened as she looked through. She saw Daniel, the Prince, with gold tips in his hair. And a terrified young woman clutching his shoulder.

  "You brought your... girlfriend?" Scarlet asked, confused. "To watch?" "Nah," the Prince said. "She is my daughter." "What the heck..."

  "Just open the door, Scarlet."

  She hesitated. The lock clicked once. Twice. The door opened.

  "There you go," the Prince said, stepping inside over the terrified teen on the floor. "See? I won't kill you, little Alan."

  She pushed him. Hard. "What do you want, Prince?"

  The Prince brushed off his chest where she touched him. "Yo," he said, "Don't push me. Plus... I wouldn't bring my daughter to a massacre."

  He smiled. "I just came to check on my old friend."

  "Old friend?" Scarlet spat. "You literally killed my people." "It was a war, Scarlet," he said, dismissive. "Anyway."

  He looked at Alan, the terrified teen still on the floor. "Go and make us some tea."

  Alan stood up, shaking, and looked at his mom. Scarlet stared at the Prince for a second, calculating. Then she nodded to her son. Alan ran to the kitchen.

  The Prince walked to the sofa and sat down like he owned the place. Sally sat beside him, grabbing his arm tight.

  Scarlet watched them. "I didn't know you had a daughter," she said, her voice cold. "I feel pity for her."

  "Rich," the Prince said. "Coming from the woman who nearly killed 300,000 people in a single campaign."

  Scarlet didn't flinch. She sat opposite him. "Well," she said, a dark smile touching her lips. "As you say... it was a war."

  "I raised my daughter to be brave," the Prince said, sipping his tea. "Not like your son. He nearly peed himself when he heard my name."

  Scarlet smirked, looking at Sally. "Says the guy whose daughter is grabbing his arm like she's glued to it."

  The Prince laughed. A loud, sudden sound. Scarlet flinched.

  The room went silent. "That is old Scarlet," he said softly. "You never change." He leaned forward. "Anyway... I came to check on the Second Royal Minute in the world."

  He looked at her trembling hands. "But from that reaction... you seem like you lost it."

  Scarlet sighed, her shoulders slumping. "You were always so smart, weren't you?" she whispered. "Yes. I did lose half of my powers."

  "And why is that?"

  "Thanks to you. Since you broke the world. I had to pay." She looked at the kitchen door, where Alan was hiding. "I paid half of my powers... to get my son here with me."

  "But you seem like you lost something," Scarlet said.

  "Yup," the Prince said. "To protect my family... I split into two." "What?"

  [The Prince (Internal)]: "Let's go?" [Daniel (Internal)]: "Let's go."

  "So basically," the Prince said, "I became two parts. Me..."

  ...BLINK...

  "...And me," Daniel said, giving a small, awkward wave. "Daniel. Nice to meet you."

  ...BLINK...

  "So now I have two personas in one body," the Prince said, his voice dropping back to arrogance. "Crazy, right? But it's not that bad."

  ...BLINK...

  "It was really bad to have someone watching you shower," Daniel said. He paused. "But... he taught me how to be a man."

  ...BLINK...

  "And he isn't that bad," the Prince said. "At the beginning, I thought he was stupid and dumb. But he was just scared. Wasn't he?"

  ...BLINK...

  "And when I look at it now," Daniel said, "I think I can't live without him, can I?"

  ...BLINK...

  The Prince was smiling. A real, genuine smile. "I feel like he became part of me," the Prince said. "That I can't think without taking his opinion."

  He clapped his hands. "Anyway. I hope that explained everything."

  Scarlet stared at the man who had been flickering in front of her like a broken TV. "What the heck is going on."

  "Anyway," Scarlet said, crossing her arms, trying to regain her dignity. "So why did you come here? To flex your muscles?"

  "Nope," the Prince said, popping the 'p'. "Just came to check on you. Nothing more, nothing less."

  He looked down at the floor, toward the kitchen where Alan was hiding. "Anyway. Clean your son. Because I think he peed himself."

  He stood up. Sally immediately stood with him, clutching his arm again. The Prince walked to the door. His hand touched the knob, and then... he stopped. He didn't turn around.

  "Don't think I forgot why that war happened, Scarlet."

  The room went dead silent. The Prince looked back at the empty cup on the table. The tension vanished, replaced by a charming smile.

  "Anyway," he said. "Thanks for the tea." He winked at her. "It tastes like your tears. Sweet as ever."

  He walked out, closing the door behind him.

  Scarlet stood there in the silence of her apartment. Her hands were shaking. She let out a long, exhausted breath. "He never changes."

  They walked back to the car. "But one sec," Daniel said. "You went to a war?"

  "Yeah. I did." He paused, sounding bored. "I won, of course."

  "I really want to hear it," Daniel said.

  "Okay. So, change positions. But after we get back home."

  "Sure."

  They got back home. They sat on the couch. Daniel closed his eyes. ...BLINK... The Prince opened them. He stretched, settling into the body.

  "So," Daniel (internal) said. "Tell me now. What is that thing? The war?"

  The Prince smiled, leaning back. He raised a hand like a bard. "Once upon a time..."

  "Really?" Daniel thought.

  "Fine," the Prince sighed. "So, basically... there were two countries in the Glass World." His eyes went distant. "The Diamond World. Mine." "And The Crystal World."

  "Okay," Daniel thought.

  And then... the world dissolved. The walls of Frank's apartment melted away like liquid glass. The ceiling turned into a strange, refracted sky. They weren't in New York anymore. They were there.