Elarion: the obsolete world (part 2: I'll stay here)

Owen stared at Lilith like she'd just announced she was opening a theme park on the moon. His brain scrambled for words, but all it managed to produce was an eloquent string of flat-out refusal.

"No. Hard pass. Hell no. Absolutely not."

He paused, waiting for his soul to catch up with his mouth. "You seriously expect me to just die based on some vague legend? Do I look insane to you?"

Lilith blinked at him, her crimson eyes narrowing slightly. For a moment, he wondered if she was about to turn him into a frog—or worse, force-feed him more of her cryptic nonsense. But instead, she leaned forward, her expression somehow regal even while sitting cross-legged on his couch like a particularly overdramatic houseguest.

"This isn't just 'some vague legend,'" she said, enunciating each word as though speaking to someone whose IQ matched their shoe size. "It's your destiny."

"Oh no," Owen interrupted immediately, throwing up a hand like he could physically block her logic. "Don't start with the fate talk. That's just a fancy way of saying, 'I don't have a real reason, but I want you to do something anyway.'"

If Lilith had been holding a teacup, she probably would've crushed it by now. Instead, she settled for glaring at him like he'd insulted her entire family tree—which, given her backstory, might actually be true.

"If you don't have proof—actual, solid proof—then don't even bother," Owen continued, warming up to his rant. He ticked off points on his fingers like he was presenting a TED Talk titled Why I'm Not Dying for Your Fan Fiction World.

"Where's the physical evidence? If this is an ancient legend, where are the written records? How can you even be sure it's real? Where's the proof that this will work? Who actually knows that dying in this world will send me to Elarion? How many people have actually done this and succeeded?"

He stopped abruptly, lowering his voice to a dangerous whisper. "And before you say anything—if the answer is 'none,' then why should I believe it?"

Lilith's face remained composed, but something flickered behind her eyes—something that looked suspiciously like uncertainty. She shifted slightly, her royal posture faltering for just a fraction of a second.

"This is not something you prove, Owen," she said finally. "This is something you believe."

"Yeah, see, that's the problem. I don't believe. And I sure as hell don't gamble with my life on something that sounds like religious fanfiction."

"I believe in it," Lilith insisted, her voice firmer than her expression.

Owen snorted so hard he almost choked on his own saliva. "Of course you do. Because if you stop believing in it, then you have to admit that your world is already doomed. And that this whole 'find the hero' thing was just a cruel joke."

The words hit home harder than Owen intended—or maybe exactly as hard as he intended. Lilith froze, her gaze dropping to the floor. For a second, she looked... vulnerable. Human, even. The crystalline certainty in her voice cracked, revealing something softer underneath.

Owen felt a twinge of—something. Not guilt, definitely not guilt. More like the vague discomfort of watching someone drop their ice cream cone. A distant, abstract kind of pity.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I get it. Your world is in danger and you're desperate. But asking me to die on the off-chance that some ancient prophecy is true? That's not exactly a compelling sales pitch."

Lilith's eyes snapped back to his, that momentary vulnerability vanishing like morning dew under a harsh sun. "So you don't care about my world at all?" she demanded, leaning forward until they were practically nose-to-nose. "You would let an entire world die just because you want to live your comfortable little life?"

Her voice carried an accusation so sharp it could've sliced through steel. The air between them seemed to crackle with tension, heavy with the weight of worlds—both his and hers—hanging in the balance.

Owen didn't miss a beat. "Yes," he replied coldly. "Because it's my life. And it's the only one I have."

Her lips parted, but Owen cut her off before she could argue. "If you were in my place, would you do it? Would you die just because a stranger told you that you have to?"

She hesitated. Just for a fraction of a second. But it was enough.

"You're asking me to throw my life away based on nothing but your faith," Owen pressed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "That's not belief—that's blind stupidity."

Lilith sat back, visibly frustrated. Her hands clenched into fists, and Owen braced himself for another round of magical threats or existential guilt-tripping. He half-expected her to pull out some kind of mystical artifact or maybe just straight-up try to stab him and get it over with.

But instead, she did something unexpected.

"Fine," she snapped, her voice icy calm. "If you won't believe me... then I'll just stay here."

Owen blinked, his train of thought derailing spectacularly. "Wait, what?"

"I'll stay in this world with you," she declared, as though announcing she'd decided to redecorate his apartment. "You clearly value your life. Then let me see it. Let me see why you're so desperate to keep it."

Owen's mouth opened and closed several times. "That..." he started, shaking his head slowly. "...is the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

She shrugged, completely unfazed. "You value this world, this life. So I'll experience it. I'll see what makes it worth choosing over the fate of an entire realm."

Her eyes took on a dangerous glint that made Owen suddenly very aware of how small his apartment was. "And when the time comes, when you finally understand... I'll be there to k..."

"Wow, way to bury the lede there," Owen muttered, rubbing his temples. His headache was back, pounding away with renewed enthusiasm. "So your new plan is to... what? Stalk me until I agree to let you murder me?"

"Not stalk," Lilith corrected primly. "Observe. Learn. Understand."

"Right," Owen drawled. "Because that doesn't sound creepy at all."

He stared at her, torn between laughter and sheer terror. Here was this otherworldly being, sitting on his ratty couch, casually discussing her plans to eventually kill him like they were deciding on dinner options.

"You're actually insane," he said finally, with the resigned tone of someone who'd just realized the exit door was locked from the outside.

"Perhaps," Lilith conceded, not sounding particularly bothered by the accusation. "But I'm also patient."

Owen let out a long, defeated sigh.

"Fine," he said after a long pause. "Whatever. Do what you want."

Because arguing with Lilith was like trying to convince a cat to fetch a stick—it wasn't going to happen, and you'd only end up exhausted and covered in metaphorical scratch marks.

A heavy silence settled over the room, broken only by the distant dripping of Owen's perpetually leaky faucet. Outside, the world continued spinning, blissfully unaware that in a small, unremarkable apartment, two people from different dimensions were having the world's most bizarre standoff.

After what felt like an eternity, Lilith cleared her throat delicately. "Since I'm staying here, that means we're together," she stated matter-of-factly, like she was reading off a grocery list.

Owen blinked, his brain struggling to process this sudden conversational U-turn. "What."

"In my world, if a man invites a woman to stay with him, it means they are bound to each other," she explained, her tone implying that this should be obvious to anyone with half a functioning brain cell. "So, as far as I'm concerned, we're already a couple."

Owen gaped at her, his brain short-circuiting faster than a toaster in a bathtub. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I rarely 'kid,'" Lilith replied, looking vaguely offended at the suggestion.

"Let me get this straight," Owen said slowly, as if explaining quantum physics to a particularly dense rock. "First, you tell me I'm supposed to die so I can save your world. Then, when I say no, you decide to stay here and eventually kill me anyway. And now, you're saying we're... dating?"

"Bound," Lilith corrected. "It's more significant than 'dating.'"

"Oh, well, excuse me," Owen muttered. "That makes it so much better."

But Lilith didn't seem to notice—or care—about his reaction. She smiled, and for the first time during this entire conversation, it was genuine. Not smug, not calculating—just pure happiness.

It transformed her face entirely. The regal, otherworldly princess suddenly looked... real. Human. Beautiful, even, in a way that had nothing to do with her perfect features and everything to do with that flash of unguarded emotion.

Owen noticed. And for a brief second, he felt something he couldn't describe. Something warm and weird and entirely unwelcome.

Then, he immediately shut that thought down, mentally drop-kicking it into the deepest, darkest corner of his mind.

"Whatever," he said, standing up abruptly. "I need to sleep. Tomorrow's Monday, and unlike some interdimensional royalty, I have classes to attend."

Lilith nodded sagely. "Yes, maintaining your cover is important."

"It's not a—" Owen started, then stopped himself. "You know what? Never mind."

He turned to head to his bedroom, then paused. "Where are you planning to sleep, exactly?"

Lilith glanced around the tiny apartment as if noticing its limitations for the first time. "Same as yesterday. I'm sure we can make suitable arrangements," she said with the confidence of someone who had never had to worry about practical matters like square footage or the absence of guest bedrooms.

"Right," Owen sighed. "You can take the couch. There are extra blankets in the closet. Try not to summon any demons or open portals to other dimensions while I'm asleep."

"Portals require significantly more energy than I currently possess," Lilith informed him seriously. "And demons are notoriously unreliable."

"Good to know," Owen muttered, retreating to his bedroom before this conversation could get any weirder.

Later, lying awake in bed, he stared at the ceiling and tried to convince himself that this was all temporary. A bizarre blip in his otherwise carefully controlled existence.

"She's not serious about this," he muttered to himself. "This whole thing is temporary anyway. She'll get bored and leave eventually."

So he didn't confirm or deny it. He just let it be.

Meanwhile, in the living room, Lilith sat on the couch, humming softly to herself. To her, this was progress. The first step in a journey that would end with Owen accepting his destiny—one way or another.