Varian freezes at the man's words, but he's too dizzy to get up and do anything about them. His eyes are wide and unfocused, breath coming in heavy bursts and hitting the deceptively clean smelling tile floor.
"What are you talking about?!" Rapunzel yells, and Varian wants to scream at her, warn her that these people are evil and will not hesitate to slit her throat if she acts out.
Andrew's laugh, the sound that twists the knife further and further into Varian's heart with every repetition, actually eases him this time. The man still feels in control, and therefore won't kill anyone (not yet).
"Well, we'll just have to wait and see, now won't we? Your Majesty?"
Varian cradles his middle, using all his strength to push himself up the best he can. He flinches at the unsheathing of a sword, the sound driving him to move faster.
But the voice that follows is not at all what he expects, and he frantically lifts his head to the source.
"Command your followers to release their hostages, then wait for backup to return you to your cells, prisoner."
Havilah levels a threatening glare at the Saporian leader, the length of a sword Varian has never seen before against Maise's neck.
"Havi, what are you doing?" Eugene mutters.
"Your Majesty, did you really think cooking was the only thing I could do?" she responds coolly, eyes never leaving Andrew. "Prisoner, I will not repeat myself."
The next few minutes happen faster than Varian can keep track of properly. A shriek pierces his ear and he watches as Ruddiger appears from nowhere and latches himself onto Juniper's face, who drops her sword in shock. Rapunzel dives for it. Havi knocks Maise's sword away from Eugene's throat with a clash of metal and Eugene uses the distraction to take out his own sword and charge at the man responsible for this mess. Angry and Catalina run out from behind Lance and jump Clementine, successfully taking her wand and snapping it in half. Quirin launches away from Kai. Some guests join the fight. Most scream and run and make things more difficult.
And Varian is caught in the middle of it.
He knows he has to do something. Andrew may be quickly losing the upper hand, but Varian knows the man has something else planned, and he has to stop it before it's too late.
He uses his adrenaline to stand up, arm still wrapped around his stomach as he staggers to his now overturned desk. He miraculously dodges the chaos around him and collapses behind it, one knee against his chest and the other splayed out in front of him, a groan and ribbon of blood escaping his lips.
He just needs a second to think, think of a way out, think of a way to fix his mistakes, think Varian, think-
"Varian!"
Varian realizes his eyes have slipped shut and he flashes them open. Someone is leaning over him and he jolts, pressing his head against the wood in panic.
"Hold on, it's just me," calms a familiar voice, and suddenly it clicks. The kind face of Xavier hovers above him patiently.
"Xaves..." he breathes.
"I flipped your desk for some cover, if you don't mind," the older man admits with a small smile, loud enough to be heard over the sounds of a battle surrounding them.
"Yeah, no sweat," Varian laughs almost deliriously.
Xavier's expression deepens with concern as he seems to really take in the boy's state.
"Varian, are you ok?"
And just like that, something inside him cracks. The feelings he's been holding back not just since Andrew showed up, but for days now seep through the cracks in his carefully crafted walls. The tears from years of barely hidden pain burst through his heart's dam and stream down his freckled cheeks.
"No," he chokes honestly. "I'm not ok at all. I never - I never thought I'd have to see him again. A-And I didn't tell Rapunzel the truth and then he made me- everyone is getting hurt again, because of me. And I don't know - I don't know what to do. This is all my fault!"
He sobs into his hands, hating that it's the only thing he can do while everyone fights his battle for him - literally; hating himself for staying anyways.
His past has come back for him in undoubtedly the worst way possible, and all he can do is cry like a pathetic child.
"Varian."
The firm tone breaks through his thoughts, and he inhales sharply, one last attempt at holding back more tears.
"Look at me," Xavier orders gently. Varian obeys, staring up at the man through his disheveled bangs. The blacksmith continues. "I cannot hope to even begin to understand the distress this causes you. But there is one thing you should know."
Varian looks up completely. "What?" he asks hoarsely.
Xavier takes the boy's much smaller hand in his own. "Anyone who wishes to journey must leave without burdens."
Varian lets out his first steady breath, when a particularly loud clash of metal on metal rings through the room. He bites his lip, shaking his head violently.
"I'm sorry I dragged you all into this," he apologizes, voice cracking against his will. "But I don't think they're going to let me out alive a second time."
Xavier only grips his hand tighter.
"To move forward, you need to let go of everything holding you back, including your past. This is your chance, Varian."
Varian looks back at him with impossibly wide eyes, everything in his features screaming doubt.
"I can't do this," he whispers.
Xavier shakes his head. "You are the only one who can do this. You are not the villain anymore, and there comes a time in every hero's story where he must face his biggest enemy: his own demons. You can do this, Varian. You have to."
The alchemist chances a look over his desk. He watches as Saporians and Coronans take each other on, both sides winning and losing in each confrontation. Those who don't fight are pressed against the wall or beat on the door in vain, Andrew's previous threat still hanging above all of them.
"I have to," Varian repeats to himself, barely audible.
In a wave of adrenaline, he pushes himself up before he can convince himself otherwise again. His injuries have numbed to a dull pulse, and he enters the fight, determination set in his face.
"I can do this," he growls, marching straight for the center of the room and the source of the chaos.
Andrew is caught in a standstill with the Captain of the Guard, sword fiercely pressing down on Eugene's. The opponents' eyes are locked in furious concentration, but upon seeing Varian's fast approach, the good of the two falters.
"Kid!" he exclaims, pushing Andrew's weapon away and stepping back. "You're hurt!"
"I'm fine," Varian disregards his worry, vaguely realizing the tear tracks on his cheeks don't help his case.
Andrew turns away slightly from Eugene, anger at the turn of events fading a bit at the sight of the alchemist.
"Couldn't bear to miss out on all the fun, could ya buddy?" he draws, cocky grin evil in every way.
Varian bares his teeth, fingers curling into tight fists. "I'm done letting you scare me. You don't control me anymore!"
"Varian," Eugene calls anxiously, unsure how to act as his eyes pass back and forth from the Saporian to the teen.
"Eugene, you need to protect the people. Rapunzel needs your help," he tells the man, eyes never leaving the Saporian.
"But-"
"Go! You have a job." His eyes momentarily flicker to his friend, a silent plea for him to understand. "I have to do this."
Eugene looks completely torn apart, when an unmistakable yell reaches their ears. On the other side of the room, Rapunzel is the only thing standing between a very pale Nesdernian representative, and Kai.
Eugene makes his decision, giving Varian one last, heartbreak filled glance, before rushing to his wife's side.
And then, despite the room full of people, Varian is alone with Andrew.
Bringing his attention back to the terrorist, he sees the man's smile has only widened.
"That was a mistake," he warns, stepping closer.
Instead of fear locking his heart and strangling his voice as he would have expected, Varian finds his resolve settling even more.
"I don't think so," he snaps, voice low. "I'm not the same kid you manipulated in prison."
Andrew chuckles, coming even closer (oblivious to the fact that every move works straight into Varian's quickly formulating plan). "Right. Now you have a fancy outfit and title, and you only cry behind closed doors."
Rather than responding, the boy reaches inside his vest, fingers curling around the only alchemical orb he has on him (in probably any other situation, he would've sought out Lance just to hold the fact that he was right over the man's head). He throws it at the now advancing Saporian with precision.
"Couldn't even change up your fighting style a bit?" Andrew laughs, easily slicing the orb in half.
But it's Varian's turn to smile as he slides on his goggles, just in time for the ball to explode in a thick cloud of pink smoke.
Andrew snarls in annoyance as his vision is completely obscured. Varian ducks, gasping slightly at the sound of a blade swishing in the exact spot his head had just been.
"Is that all you've got?" Andrew coughs, trying to keep his threateningly confident facade up, even at the turn of events.
"Not even close," Varian mutters, springing forward and successfully knocking the sword out of the man's hand.
The weapon flies into the air, seconds seeming to pass slower than normal as Andrew watches in shock, unsure where it will end up.
A small, white gloved hand catches it, gripping the handle tightly. Varian clenches his teeth, using all his strength to shove his foot into the man's chest, sending him to the ground.
The smoke has completely cleared, and Varian uses his free hand to push his goggles off his face, pointing his newly obtained weapon at Andrew's now defenseless form.
"My dad taught me that," he spits. The statement is only half true. He had watched his dad do it once and is just as shocked to have pulled it off now. He credits it to adrenaline (he really has to conduct a research project on the chemical one day).
Andrew only stares up at him, jaw slack in disbelief. Varian suddenly finds himself annoyed at his tormentor's stupor.
"What did you do?!" he demands, going back to his purpose besides basic survival.
Andrew swallows, shutting his mouth. "Well, that's a loaded question," he starts in strained nonchalance. "I'm a thirty-some-year-old escaped level three prisoner. You're gonna have to be a little more specific."
The sword shakes in Varian's grip, but it has nothing to do with the fact that this is only the second or third time he's ever held one.
"You said I was going to kill everyone!" he yells angrily, edging the blade closer. "What. Did. You. Do?"
Andrew looks down at the metal, inching backwards ever so slightly and lip curling as if disgusted by the threat.
"Oh, that," he finally replies. "Well, let's see. How did you say it? Ah...yes. 'Just the smallest error in measurement could cause a system wide failure, or even an...accident."
Andrew's eyes narrow as Varian's widen.
"You overloaded the boiler," he breathes, understanding washing over him like a flood.
Andrew's laugh is enough of an answer. Varian suddenly forgets all animosity towards his opponent, sword clanging to the ground. He darts to his machine, breaking through all sorts of different duels or groups of screaming people. He flies to the fuel chamber, ripping off the cap and gasping in horror at the sight of all too familiar, acid-smelling, green chemical, all but overflowing. He slams it shut again, all at once paranoid that it will somehow spontaneously catch on fire.
"It's a bomb," he whimpers to himself, backing away as if burned, his moment of overpowerment promptly cut short.
"And it'll explode the second you pull that lever," a voice growls from directly behind him.
Varian whips around, dodging just in time as Andrew's sword buries into the metal plating of the boiler. He yelps, more at the damage to the extremely unstable machine than the threat of his safety.
Andrew doesn't even try to pull it out, turning and launching himself at the teen, not bothering to hide his rage anymore.
They topple to the ground, Andrew's arms pushing on the boy's shoulders and holding him down. Varian struggles underneath him, pain blossoming where the floor met the back of his head.
"This is it, brat," he growls, ignoring the alchemist's agonzied panting at the pressure. "Whatever illusion you had where you won, ends here. I'm going to kill you, and then each of your little friends, and the entire kingdom will suffer because of your mistakes, again. Traitors pay with their lives, buddy. Your time's up."
Andrew's words are far from empty, and his eyes reflect nothing but promise. Yet Varian feels only a sense of calm, trapped in the hands of his enemy once again.
"Nothing ends here," he chokes back as evenly as possible. "I won then, and I'll win now. The only illusion is yours if you think the villain ever succeeds. I don't owe you anything. My time's not up, because I have a destiny, and I'm not going anywhere until it's fulfilled."
Andrew looks more than ready to spit something back, but a new noise cuts him short.
A howl echoes through the lab.
The noise is so random that both opponents look to the source in confusion. Next to the still jammed door, Lance, Angry, and Catalina stand together. But Catalina is no longer a twelve-year-old girl with pigtails. She is a ten foot, red eyed werewolf, foaming at the mouth.
"What the-" Andrew starts, hands releasing Varian's shoulders. Another howl cuts him off, and Catalina raises her fists, smashing them into the door and watching as it splinters into almost nothing.
People from every corner surge through the new exit. The crowd is so dense that even if someone wanted to stay behind, they are swept out anyway.
In a matter of seconds, no one is left in the room - not even the other Saporians. Varian's anxiety practically dissipates at the realization: no one will die from his creation.
He pushes himself up, a laugh bubbling in his chest and escaping his lips, airy and hysterical.
"It's over, Andrew. You..."
His words fall away as he turns back around, only to find that his enemy is no longer standing over him. He jumps to his feet, frantically scanning for the terrorist.
His eyes find the familiar figure, and his heart skips a beat at the sight.
Andrew stands by his machine, unmistakably livid.
His hand grips the lever.
"What are you doing?!" Varian exclaims, jolting forward, before thinking better of it and just keeping his arms outstretched. "Andrew, get away from that."
The man that stares back at him is not the same man who intimidated Varian with a faux assertiveness and smooth-talked him into doing anything in prison. It's not even the escaped convict who had hunted Varian down in underlying rage and launched a carefully planned attack.
No, the man that stares back is deranged with bitterness, eyes crazy and dangerous. This is a man who has seen his own defeat and refuses to accept it.
"I'm not going back down there!" he yells back, knuckles turning white. "I came here to do ONE thing, and you WILL NOT. WIN. AGAIN!"
"Get AWAY, Andrew!" Varian repeats. He hears footsteps pounding down the hallway, coming back for him, and mentally pleads for them to get away too.
"I'm not going back," the Saporian says again, expression darkening and alluding to only one thing.
He won't do it. He can't. That isn't Andrew. The figment of his nightmares, all too real and living in Varian's conscious memories, too. But that terror was cold and calculating. It didn't act out in emotion. It always had a plan, and sure, a plan to make him suffer, but still. Predictable. The Andrew who had comforted Varian in a panic attack, the Andrew who had tried to throw him off an airship, none of them match up with the man who is about to pull the lever, pull the trigger and end both of their lives.
He won't.
He can't.
"And I'm taking you down with me."
Andrew shuts his eyes, and pulls.
"NO!" Varian screams.
Every sound is blocked out, replaced with a single, earsplitting BOOM. Heat is the only thing he can feel as his body is flung backwards. Red is all he can see, at least, until the consuming black creeps in.
"She died before they found it."
His mom had been killed before fulfilling her destiny, and it seems so will he.
The last thing that enters his mind, his final feeling, is hope. Despite everything.
Because he had left her journal in his bag, and his bag is in his room. Someone else can continue her work, if not him.
Someone else can choose his dream.
The darkness takes over.