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Of all ways that Almaz pictured his assault on an Overlord going, this was not at all on the list. Some of them (okay, being honest, most of them) involved becoming very firmly dead. Not a single one of them involved waking up strapped to a table, the heavy breathing of a monster making him scared to turn his head. Though once that salivating nonsense turned to a gleeful cackle, Almaz did dare to look, and was reminded of another aspect he hadn't exactly imagined would be part of his encounters in the netherworld.
In front of a desk cluttered with discarded test tubes and uncountable stained papers stood his captor, back to the hero. "Maybe I'll try some of that out... or, we skip straight to modification? No, no, if I do that it'll probably damage what I need... Yes, yes, I know what I need to do first!" His mad mutterings sent a chill down Almaz's spine, one that only slightly mismatched with the way he looked once he turned back to face the would-be hero.
Almaz had always figured that if some mad scientist was going to tie him to a table, they'd at least be wearing a lab coat about it. Also, that they'd be at least six feet tall, have way too many tubes sticking out of their body, and have an evil laugh. This madman's eyes were lit up, drool running down his chin, a predatory stalk to his approach, but he was still boyish in stature and face. And most of the dangerously wicked look dropped when he realized they were looking directly at each other.
"Oh? Oh. You're awake." The mania fell away to mundanity. "Couldn't you have just remained unconscious for a few more minutes?"
"And just what were you planning on doing to me when I was unconscious?" Almaz wasn't sure he should ask.
"Oh, you know. This and that," said without a worry despite how concerning it was to hear, "I mean, I can do it while you're awake, too, but you'll have to promise not to struggle, Hero. Well, not much. I know you're gonna sit there like 'You'll never get away with this, fiend!'. Oooh, I can't wait!" The more he talked, the more visibly excited the boy got.
Naturally, Almaz took the opportunity to test the bindings. His wrists were firmly planted near his head, which didn't give him a whole lot of wiggle room except for his arms. Similarly, his ankles were secured too, next to each other, but at least that was a dignified state for being strapped down. It could have been worse. No, wait, this was still awful!
"So come on, Hero! Let's hear it!" the demon loomed over him with a growing grin, managing to now look tall solely by virtue of Almaz being stuck on his back. "I know how this routine goes. You've got friends coming to save you, so call out to them so I can beat them, and we can move on to the part where I win!"
Almaz swallowed, dry and nervous. That pointed out something he hadn't really considered as much as he should have. "Well, about that..."
"Yes? Yes? Oooh, do you need an arm free to activate a secret beacon to them? I could be convinced."
"What? No, just nobody really knows I'm here. Sorry." Almaz answered far too honestly, only realizing a moment later he could have asked about a freed up arm anyway. Before he could circle back, though, Mao was already talking.
"Nobody at all? Damnit, how am I supposed to witness a heroic rescue, and how am I supposed to thwart it if you don't call for your friends!" The fiend's glee turned to anger on a dime, kicking the table with force enough to jostle Almaz atop it. "What a waste! Don't you know how to be a proper hero?"
"Of course I know how to be a hero!" Almaz quipped back. "Besides, wouldn't it usually be the hero's job to rescue the captured maiden? Not, you know, be the one captured?"
"Well you're not a maiden. Probably?" His captor rubbed his chin in thought, no longer looking Almaz in the eye. Instead, his curious gaze trailed down his captive's body. "Come to think of it, I haven't checked. Maybe you're not a Hero, maybe you're actually a Heroine?"
"I'm definitely a guy!" Almaz didn't like where that was going one bit.
"I could fix that, Hero." Mao's offer almost sounded genuine.
"It doesn't need fixing!" Almaz liked that even less, so he desperately sought a change of subject. "And can you stop calling me Hero? My name's Almaz. Alm--"
"Almaz von Almandine Adamant." The demon recited it, flatly. "Yes, yes, I heard you when we met. But right now you're my experiment, so you're just Hero. Be glad I don't change your name plate!"
Almaz was thrown a bit off balance, at least mentally - he was perfectly balanced on the table. People rarely remembered his name in full. And now it just made him feel bad about the fact that he was drawing a blank on his captor's name, even though he was pretty sure he'd overheard it. It was a little embarrassing. "So, um... should I just call you Demon?"
"Just 'Demon'? What kind of riffraff do you take me, Nether Academy's Number One Honor Student, for!?" He'd gone straight back to anger at that, but Almaz got what he wanted out of it in the end. "You shall address me as Mao!"
"Okay, Mao--" Almaz started, but barely even got to get that out.
"No, wait, you're my captive. Mao's not good enough. It'll be Lord Mao to you! Yes, yes that's much more fitting!" Once again, his mood had swung off of anger and more to just a haughty derision. There would almost be some comedy to the way that Mao seemed to change on a dime, if not for the fact that same eccentricity had Almaz bound to a table. It made him potentially dangerous.
However, if Mao was this easy to distract, perhaps there was a way to use this. Perhaps Almaz could talk his way out of this? "Okay, Lord Mao--"
"Alright, that's enough talking!" One of Mao's hands slammed down next to the hero's head, and the young mad scientist leaned in very close. Eye to deep red eye, a color Almaz was definitely not used to seeing, a reminder he was indeed dealing with a dangerous demon. "Bet you're thinking that if you keep me chatting long enough you can weasel your way out of it, right? A hero's silver tongue and all that?"
Those eyes had glanced down to his mouth, lingering for just a moment before snapping back to lock eyes in combat again. Almaz felt like Mao was seeing straight into his brain. "How'd you know? I mean, wait, no, that's not--"
"Ha, called it! See, I know all about you Heroes. Everything! I know your tricks, and your powers, and your oaths! Even if you're not equipped like a high level Hero, you have the title, and that means you're gonna use those things against me!"
"Hey, that was the best equipment I could buy!" Almaz protested.
"Please, that junk was rank two! And common!" Mao spat the words out. "Pathetic! A hero should at least have all four of their equipment slots filled. Are you doing some kind of challenge run? Get with the program!"
"Well sorry a soldi--" Almaz bit his tongue for a moment, and tried again, hoping Mao didn't notice, "hero's budget isn't always so huge!"
"Oh come on, you go around ransacking people's houses for treasure chests, you've gotta be loaded!"
"That's only heroes in video games that do that!" Almaz protested.
"Are you even really a hero?" Mao's brow furled. His shoulders slouched as he looked over Almaz again, and Almaz wasn't sure which was worse - the angry, dangerous Mao, or the one who seemed disappointed. "Your title says you are, but I'd better confirm. So, I guess that's where today's experiments will start!"
That had all backfired. Now they were right back where they'd started - minus the fact that Almaz now knew Mao's name. "Hey, wait, you can't just experiment on me! That's..." his mind raced, trying to come up with anything he could, and he found a last string to pull. "...unethical! Don't I need to sign a form or something first?"
"Sign a form!?" Mao was offended. "What do you take me for? A delinquent? Just shut up and let me examine you, Hero! If you are a Hero!"
"And how exactly are you going to tell if I am?" Almaz swallowed nervously, realizing he was losing ground to the madness of the boy in front of him.
"Duh, I'm gonna find out if you have a Hero's body!" Mao rolled his eyes, like it was the most obvious answer ever.
"A hero's body?"
"How clueless are you!?" Mao's frustration peaked, but much to Almaz's relief, it meant the demon stepped away. Within a couple quick strides, he was back at his mess of a desk, tossing papers into the air. "Fine! I'll show you! Just... just stay tied up there for a minute while I find it!"
It at least gave Almaz a minute to look for a way out. Not that Almaz would find one. The room was clearly in a dungeon somewhere, but Almaz had never exactly pictured dungeons as coming with just as many chalkboards as chains. Frankly, he wasn't sure which sunk his worries further into his stomach - the cartoon diagrams of a body surrounded by drills and laser beams, or the actual torture racks on the walls just behind them.
"Here! See?"
Just like that, Almaz's gaze was covered by the pages of a book that Mao had shoved in front of his face. No, not a book, a comic. A black and white page, depicting a hero Almaz was all too familiar with. That toned, shirtless body, that fiery haircut.
"Oh? That's the Super Hero!"
"Good, good, you know him. Heroes look like this!" Mao flipped a few pages, and the contents changed a little. Actually, more than a little. Almaz wasn't sure Mao had meant for him to see this.
"I don't remember an issue where the Hero gets tied up with, uh, tentacles?" Almaz pondered aloud, worried about seeing more and confirming that sight. Fortunately, the book was quickly pulled away. "Was that...?" Almaz's gaze turned back to Mao for an answer, only to find that Mao had turned his back entirely, busy shoving the comic back into the depths of the pile and disturbing plenty in the process. "You even have doujins of the Super Hero?"
"Of course I do! How else am I supposed to know about all the stuff the games and comics won't tell me?"
"Uh, I don't think those stories are real," Almaz protested. "They're usually made for, uh. Less. You know. Less wholesome reasons?"
"Less wholesome? What, do you think a demon cares about copyright?" Mao snorted, almost casual as he returned to Almaz's side, missing the meaning entirely. "I have to know all about the Hero's strengths just as much as his weaknesses and defeats - all of them!"
He wanted to say a little more, about how Mao might just be completely misunderstanding fiction and reality. Or maybe actually ask exactly how deep Mao's collection of material about the Super Hero went. Was he actually a fan? But that didn't make sense, hadn't Mao yelled about hating heroes? Really loudly? Right before punching him in the gut and knocking him out?
Speaking of which, Mao's hand was way too close to his stomach again. Though his bare fingers seemed to be hesitating from actually doing anything there.
"Uh, Mao, what are you--"
"Lord Mao."
"Lord Mao," Almaz rolled his eyes a bit as he corrected himself, "what are--"
Almaz got an answer when his shirt was pulled straight up to his neck in one swift move, exposing more of his body than he was ready for. "Why'd you do that!?"
"Keep up with the program! I said, I have to see if you have a hero's body!" Mao's gaze met his for a moment, then it trailed back down. And if that didn't give Almaz enough reason to suddenly feel a little embarrassing, Mao's next comment sure didn't help. "Woah... slender, smooth, just a little toned! Not a musclehead at all! You really are built just like in the comics!"
Mao's voice had risen, excitement clear in it. Almaz didn't dare turn to look at Mao in that moment, worried about the expression he'd probably see on his face, because he was already coming to know that tone. "Of course I'm not a musclehead!" He squirmed against his bonds in the hope that it would cause his shirt to somehow cover him back up. Gravity was not exactly on his side for that, and now he really felt quite helpless.
Not having his eyes on Mao was probably the worst idea though, given it left him no preparation for when Mao's bare hand touched his chest.
What shocked Almaz the most wasn't the pressure of the tips of claws, light as it was, a feeling unlike being touched by human hands. Nor was it just being touched by another being like that, though that too was vastly less common than Almaz would admit to. It was that Mao's fingers were more human than he'd thought. Maybe he'd imagined the touch would be cold, or stiff, or something... but he was surprisingly soft. And there was the lightest tremble of nerves there, too. More than anything, he found he was just surprised, because he didn't hate it.
"Hey. You, uh," Almaz swallowed. "You don't have to touch me, you saw, right!"
"Nonsense! I-I have to make sure you're not using an illusion or something!"
Had he just heard a hitch in Mao's voice?
Almaz finally dared to turn his gaze back, to see Mao standing over him again, but it wasn't with of the sort of hunger he'd expected. The demon who held him captive was completely transfixed. And was there color coming slowly to his pale cheeks? That couldn't be right.
"You can, uh, stop touching--"
"Sh-shut up! I'll touch whatever I want!"
And to prove a point, Mao traced his fingers down towards Almaz's stomach. With that went the tips of the claws, trailing down over skin not so used to human contact. Little lines of lightning, playing over his nerves as they moved past his heart.
Almaz couldn't help it. He tried to protest once more. At least, protest had been the hope. It would at least have been less embarrassing if he'd just squeaked or something.
Instead, Almaz moaned at the touch, and both of them froze.
The stillness crushed them both, their eyes slowly locked back on each other.
"D-don't moan when I'm inspecting you, you pervert!" Mao's face was aflame with emotion all at once, his voice hitched in embarrassment while his quickly withdrawn hand betrayed his shock.
"Pervert!? You're the one touching me!" If Almaz could see himself in the mirror, he'd be no better.
"Shut up!" Mao's storm of emotion coalesced into a singular one: Anger. "Experimental subjects are better when they're not talking back!"
Naturally for a demon, he chose violence. And with the wind knocked out of his sails, Almaz found the only response he could utter out would be a heaving breath and pitiful whimper before his world went black.
---
Only once he was sure Almaz was unconscious did Mao finally let himself panic.
"Wh-what the hell was that!?" Mao pressed his hands to his face, nearly knocking his glasses off. "He moaned!? Why the hell would he do that!?"
He quickly grabbed Almaz's shirt, covering back up the hero's body. He'd thought it would help. That sight, of Almaz's body writhing beneath his touch? That was unfortunately burned into his memory. And even unconscious as Almaz was, he still had that face, that suddenly seemed so much more--
Mao's heart slammed up into his throat and dropped back down into his bowels a moment later. The demon doubled over, one hand to his mouth. No way he'd just thought that word. Cute? What the hell was wrong with him!?
"Calm down, Mao. Calm down! He's a Hero!" Mao's eyes darted back and forth, to anything and anywhere that wasn't Almaz, as he shook. "And you, you're going to be Overlord! You would never, ever be... eugh, into a Hero!"
His eyes found his desk, memorabilia of the Super Hero buried within. A part of his mind recalling way too long spent admiring the art of the young Super Hero in the cartoons. A part of his mind remembering getting a bit too happy about pirating swimsuit DLC for the more recent games, even if he'd only used it on the main character. A part of his mind telling him he'd long stopped benefiting from 'researching' doujins like the one he'd shoved in Almaz's face.
A part of his mind said he'd buried these thoughts before. But that just meant he could do it again.
"No. No, no, it's fine. He just tried to work his heroic charms on you, Mao! Almaz might look like an idiot. And sound like an idiot. And, okay, probably is an idiot. But he is also a hero. And that makes him dangerous!"
Mao pushed his glasses back up on his face, and took another deep swill of the dusty dungeon air before he turned back to Almaz. Careful, hesitant steps closed the distance between them again. Since when did he walk so slow? Was he scared of Almaz? Why would he be scared? The pitiful little human was literally unconscious in front of him!
"Okay. You're fine. Monologue, Mao. Just like any other villain would." If these thoughts would sit sick in his stomach, he'd expel them instead, glad the Hero wouldn't hear the words he was about to say. At least, he sure hoped Almaz didn't have some superpower to hear while unconscious. If he did, Mao would just have to wipe his memory later.
"Alright, Hero." First, stop thinking about him by name. Treat him as an object. "Here's what we're going to do. Step one, I'm taking your stupid little title of Hero." That was what he was here for. Just that. Only that.
"Step two, I'm shoving it in my heart bank, so I can steal its power!" Yeah, that's what he was after. His dad needed to rest, and only a Hero could do that. Almaz was just integral to his mission. That was all.
"And step three, I'm shoving all these stupid thoughts you've given me in the heart bank where they belong, and they'll stay buried in there, and we'll never see them again! Yes, that'll do it! I am a genius. Nothing can possibly go wrong with that!"
Mao's smile spread too wide for his face, and thus his wicked work began.