Some places took one tunnel to get to, others many.

Nero’s destination took only three.

The first tunnel, he fell, feet first, and it was a destination he sometimes liked to pass through, the purple glittering sparkles, flashing lights, kaleidoscopes, a colorful soup he slid through.

The next tunnel was very underwhelming.

It was a regular bedroom, with a broken mirror, a man sitting in a pile of bones, and a red-haired woman doting over him. They shrieked as he fell through their apartment ceiling and their floor.

The third tunnel dropped him right into the pool of his penthouse.

He had accidentally traveled to the pool of his penthouse where he and his friends lived when he was aiming for the living room couch. The sword seemed to release the steam inside the water, and its voice was muffled as well, Unas grumbled an old man who was never pleased about anything.

“ Finally, I don’t have to hear this stupid sword anymore! ”

Adonis was confused when he found a soot-covered man standing in the pool. A loud noise woke him up from his sleep and he went to the patio with a gun. Upon further inspection, he realized the naked man was Nero.

“Where are your clothes," yelled Adonis. “Why are you covered in all this stuff? What did you do? ”

Nero’s head hurt, his entire body ached, and he was tired of people assuming he did something wrong. He did, but the assumption hurt his feelings.

Shamelessly, Nero made his way out of the pool and into the house.

“Why are you upset that I’m naked? You’ve seen me naked before," he said.

“That was an accident. Once," confirmed Adonis.

“Aren’t you happy that I’m alive," Nero exclaimed. “I kept my promise!”

“Yes, please, just go get dressed.”

Soaking wet, Nero’s feet echoed through the marble halls of another extravagant building he thought was his but was Alto’s. He pushed the sliding doors open, and walked into his room, decorated to his taste.

He thought it was fancy.

It was gaudy at best.

Nero wanted to prove that he was rich. He was, but he had no reason to prove it, his short stint in poverty however left a distinct and deep scar in his mind.

His room had many Wamazon boxes of unopened products and split-second purchases. A rug made out of some strange two-headed and blue furry, alien beast lay at the foot of his canopy bed. The wooden pillars were carved out to look like Corinthian columns and everything was fancy in his room but it didn’t match any particular style.

Nero climbed into bed without bothering to shower, causing the sword to grumble.

I require sustenance, it groaned. I am HUNGRY. I need MEAT.

“I haven’t had some meat of my own in two months, but you don’t hear me telling everyone I haven’t gotten laid lately. Go to bed.”

The sword began to air its grievances and complain about everything, most of the things outside of Nero’s control.

Nero could finally sleep after he chucked the sword into the pool but Adonis woke him up six hours later when he was bundled up in his zebra-print blanket.

“Why… please let me sleep," said Nero.

“No, you told me to wake up at nine today. It's your son’s party today.”

“ Ah. Yes. That. ”

After Nero got dressed in something that made him look like he was on his way to the club instead of a children’s birthday party and pulled the sword out of the pool, he made his way to the living room. It had a conversation pit, a modern fireplace, and a plasma screen taking up one of the walls. Diamond and Pumpkin were watching the news when he went in, more people who didn’t pay rent inside Alto’s house.

“Why are you guys watching the news," Nero asked

“To know if we got away with it last night, duh," Diamond replied. All of a sudden Nero was interested and joined in, wanting to see his fifteen minutes of fame. After a few segments, the part they were waiting for finally came on the screen.

“Last night, a terrorist attack occurred on 27th street," said the reporter. “All but one of the victims survived, and all of the victims are men of influence in the city of Atlaan. The building was a strip club, and many wondered why so many men of power were all there that night. The attack was supposedly done by the infamous Enemy cartel. We take you now, to our panelists.”

An angry woman with curly hair, oversized, colorful glasses, and hoop earrings yelled through the screen.

“These men were trying to purchase sex! They deserve to be burned alive! It's the only way to get rid of the sin in this town! This cartel is doing us a community service! Men are the root of ALL EVIL!”

Nero liked her.

The other panelist, a man with a conservative cut, was eyeing her like she was crazy.

She probably was.

“Are you endorsing terrorism," asked the man. “These men were participating in a legal activity, how could you assume what they were doing? Men are not the root of all evil. Everyone knows what the root of all evil is! Those weird creatures without penises! Women.”

Diamond, Pumpkin, and Nero were extremely entertained by the idiotic argument on their screen. The panelists yelled over each other and nothing of value was learned, plenty of brain cells were lost. After their screaming match was over, the camera cut to the reporter.

“In related news, a former police officer, Acheus Titanium was arrested on first-degree murder charges for the death of Ahana M. Hori, a prolific lawyer. Authorities believe Acheus might be connected to the terrorist attack last night.”

The picture shown on the screen was not Nero, but his innocent doppelganger.

Nero laughed so hard he almost peed himself. His chest puffed up with hot air, his confidence soaring, declaring that he was born blessed and no one could touch them. Pumpkin, not one to argue with him, or anyone really, was sitting on the couch, brushing her small afro next to Diamond who was braiding her hair.

They were like vestigial twins, minus the shared organs.

“Does that mean we can continue our plans for the week,” asked Pumpkin.

“Yeah, but tonight, it’s my turn, ” Nero replied.

The doorbell rang, and Nero jumped up, surprised. He wasn’t expecting any visitors. He ran down the hallway, still not properly dressed, with no shoes or socks on, and answered the door.

“Good morning dear, I lost my keys," said Alto. He gave a quick peck on the cheek and walked inside. “Are your friends still free-loading in the penthouse I bought?”

“C’mon, it's too early for that. Let's go to a party.”

“A party this early in the day-day?”'

Nero crossed his arms and tried to find the best way to put this. “My son is having a one-hundred-day party. It's important in Rosie’s culture. I want to see my son, and I want you to come with me."

“Why are you springing this on me the day of? What is wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry, I forgot about it. Can we just go? Please," pleaded Nero.

“I don’t want to go. I hate Rosaline, and she hates me," said Alto. Nero held Alto’s hand and tried his hardest to coax him into this.

“Look," said Nero. “I want us to be a family. You have every right to be angry with me, but please don’t be angry with my son."

Alto was weak to Nero. Whatever he asked for he got. For the first time, Alto didn’t want to give Nero something, even though he knew Nero was right.

“Please don’t fight him," said Nero. “He’s just a baby. He’s so small. He can’t win against you.”

Alto didn’t want to fight Nero anymore. He missed being around Nero, so he came to the penthouse, missed talking to him...and he missed sex. He was also tired of having Azara as his main source of socialization.

“Please tell your friends to leave my second home," said Alto.

“It's okay, you’ll be fine," said Nero.

“It’s been sixty-six days! Sixty-six! I want to be alone with y-”

“Let’s just go," Nero groaned. His face flushed red and he was flustered. “I need to buy a present before we go.”

---

Rosaline was pleased that Nero came until she saw that Alto came along as well.

She did not want him there, he did not want to be there, some very unpleasant words were traded, the word slug was used and now Alto told Rosaline that she would be cut off because he was tired of always being the bad guy.

After a very awkward and silent car ride home, Nero sat on the balcony, legs dangling over, and smoking a cigarette. He was dressed in all black, ready for his job of the night, hoping that it would be simple.

It would become more complicated as the murderer, who was his husband, was for some reason the only sane person that evening, voicing his valid concerns. He opened the sliding glass door onto the balcony and stood behind Nero, upset that he had agreed to try and get along but it wasn’t enough for Rosaline.

“I’m not paying any more money to Rosaline," said Alto. He waited for Nero to argue with him, but he didn’t. He didn’t even turn to acknowledge him.

So Alto continued.

“ I don’t want to punish your son, but I can’t be treated like that. She’s an adult. She can get a job. You can stop wasting all the money I give you. I’m not paying another cent for her to think she can do as she pleases.”

The sunset was in the distance, and the sky went dark. Alto stood there waiting for a reply, but he never heard one.

So he left.

Nero was too ashamed to face him. He was crying, silently, mastering the skill long ago. For the first time in his life he was forced to be an adult and he was not handling it well.

He decided to try and do something about it, he had a long night ahead of him.

He called Rosaline many times. The first time she accidentally picked up the phone and then hung up. On his twenty-third call, he didn’t understand why she hadn't blocked him yet.

On his forty-fifth call, she finally answered the phone.

“Can you please stop harassing me," she said. “I already apologized earlier.”

Nero was livid.

“You are going to listen to what I have to say and you aren’t going to interrupt me," Nero said. Authority was in his voice, and he was sick and tired of playing tug of rope with the both of them.

More choice words were thrown at each other, Rosaline began to cry, and Nero continued. The sobbing increased on the phone, and two people who should have never had a child used their son as a weapon against each other.

“You would hurt your son just to punish me?”

Nero didn’t say anything.

“You’re a monster," said Rosaline. She hung up the phone.

Nero’s chest ached, and he had gone too far. He didn’t want Rosaline, but he wanted his son, and sadly they were a package deal. Godiva’s words about him being a monster rung in his head, the self-fulfilling prophecy complete.

I’m a monster. So why bother pretending to be good any longer?

No more tears said Unas. Only action.

You’re right. Only Action.

Carol walked onto the balcony, interrupting his moment, again trying to force him out of the house through the guise of food .

“Would you like dinner, Nero," asked Carol. “I’ve made you pork ribs with beans.” Nero snapped back to reality. He didn’t turn to look at her, this time he didn’t think she was worth it.

“I know you’ve been spitting in my water jug next to the nightstand," said Nero.

Carol’s face went pale.

“You’re fired. If you have a problem with it, I don’t care."

“I’m not going to beg," said Carol. “Unlike you, I have dignity.” She turned to leave, but Nero stopped her in the doorway.

“Wait," he said.

Carol turned to look at him.

He spat in her face and closed the door.