The cloak.

He could get that cloak back.

Dimentio had nothing, NOTHING, of his old life except for himself. It shouldn't have mattered to him. He wished it didn't matter to him.

But...

He wanted it. He wanted that cloak. He wanted a part of that once happy, perfect world back.

"... Give it," He stated, lowering himself so his feet were just barely off the ground so he was closer to Dio's height, still keeping himself taller to symbolize that he was the one with the power in this negotiation.

"No. Not until you teach me how to get home," Dio replied, smiling ever so slightly as he did. But it wasn't his usual smile. No, this smile looked more like the one Mr. L was used to seeing on Dimentio. Wasn't quite used to seeing it on Dio, however.

Dimentio groaned and rubbed his temples in an annoyed manner. "Why don't you give me the cloak, and then I'll teach you."

"You know... I can sense that you are a very distrusting person," Dio pointed out, holding his hands behind his back and leaning forward ever so slightly. "And I respect that. However, we will never get anywhere if we do not compromise. You teach me, and I give you the cloak before I go. Deal?"

"... What exactly am I signing?" Dimentio clarified. "I want to know, are you just going to use these powers to return to your home, or is there something else you have planned?"

"I just want to get home!" Dio chimed. "That's all. OOH, and... help bring this lady's Count back. I promised I would, so I kinda have to-"

"Excuse me?!" Both Mr. L and Dimentio exclaimed at the same time. Of course, this was new information to Mr. L, as he wasn't there when Dio promised Nastasia and the rest of team Bleck that he would somehow bring their beloved Count Bleck back from an unknown location.

"...Well, I regret to inform you that even that is not within my power range," Dimentio stated plainly. "I cannot raise the dead. If I could then I would have done so long ago. And besides, the Count himself isn't even dead. He and his love are simply lost. Out of place, if you will. And I do not believe that they wish to be found."

"Oh. W-well... I'm sure I will be able to figure something out," Dio chimed.

Both Mr. L and Dimentio highly doubted it, but that didn't quite matter. Who cared if this other Dimentio didn't keep a promise he made to Nastasia. He would be leaving soon anyhow, so what would she be able to do about it?

"I can tell what you two are thinking," Dio said, softly smiling his usual smile once again. "But I'll have you know that I do intend on keeping my promise to her."

"And I intended on creating a perfect world," Dimentio retorted. "Some things don't go the way we plan. But never mind that. We can deal with this issue later. Let us first focus on getting this done as quickly as possible so we may go our separate ways and never speak again."

Dio's eyes lit up. Had he won?! Was Dimentio really going to teach him? Had his plan actually worked?!

"Alright!" Dio chimed, not taking that as an insult, but instead as a step in the right direction! He didn't want to waste any more time than necessary. "Teach me the magic!"

Dimentio let out a breath, then lowered himself to the ground, waving his hand, magically lifting Mr. L into the air. The man in green let out a shout of protest as Dimentio flicked his hand to the side, sending Mr. L flying to the side so he was about twenty feet away from them now.

"First thing about magic, it's about precision. If you are not precise when levitating or teleporting, you could accidentally make a fatal mistake. For instance, if I were to mess up and lose focus right now, I could accidentally send Mr. L a hundred thousand feet into the air and lose my connection with him, which would result in him being dropped and falling to his death."

"WHAT?!" Mr. L cried from afar. "PUT ME DOWN! I'M NOT A GUINEA PIG FOR YOU TO EXPERIMENT WITH!"

"Why of course you are? Why else would you be here? To just watch?" Dimentio laughed.

Mr. L grit his teeth and narrowed his eyes. He glared, knowing he couldn't quite answer that. He couldn't just say, 'I came here because I needed out of the Underwhere,' because that didn't quite explain why he was sticking around. And he couldn't say, 'I'm here because I've grown invested in this other version of you's story,' because that's just weird. So, he just glared. It was easier that way.

Dimentio seemed to smirk and take the silence to mean that Mr. L didn't have an answer.

However, seeing the worried expression in Dio's eyes as he watched Mr. L, fearing that the exact scenario that Dimentio had described to him would happen, Dimentio decided to at least somewhat compromise. Just to put this other version of himself at ease. He waved his hand, lowering Mr. L to the ground, but not quite releasing him. It was almost as if invisible hands were holding the man in green in place.

Dio visibly let out a sigh of relief, then shakily looked at Dimentio once again. "I'm not going to use magic on him," he stated blandly as if his sentence was concrete and not up for discussion.

"I never said you had to," Dimentio pointed out.

"But it was implied, and I am just making it clear now that I am not going to. I don't want to make a mistake and accidentally cause him any harm." Dio added with a slightly smaller tone.

Why so serious? Dimentio thought. But he brushed these words off. If this clone was too weak to risk another's safety then so be it. That was his issue. Sentiment never got anyone anywhere. "You know, I think I can see the difference between you and me. You are an idiot, and I am not," Dimentio shrugged.

"I'm not an idiot. And please release him," Dio begged.

Dimentio then released Mr. L completely. The man in green let out a sigh of relief as he felt the invisible hands let go. He then took a step further away, just to be cautious. Though he knew that it didn't matter how far he was. If Dimentio wanted to use him, he would use him. There would be no way to hide. If Dimentio wanted to kill both him and Dio then run, there would be nothing stopping him. This really was quite a bad idea.

Why was he so willingly risking his life again?

Dimentio then held his hand out, making a small projectile appear in it once again. He waved his fingers as the magic playfully bounced around. Dio watched in almost awe.

"Whoa..." Dio murmured, bringing his finger forward and lightly touching it, only to feel a quick burning sensation. He quickly yelped and brought his hand back, not because it was particularly painful, but because he simply hadn't expected the feeling.

"You cannot touch it, imbecile," Dimentio laughed.

"Ow- but you're touching it!" Dio pointed out.

"Am I?" Dimentio smiled.

Dio was about to quickly reply when he took a closer look.

Yes, the projectile was close to Dimentio's hand. In fact, it was so close that it appeared he was holding it. But when Dio squinted, he could indeed see that the projectile wasn't actually touching it. It was about one centimeter from Dimentio's hand.

"You are not invincible against your own magic," Dimentio explained, seeming to toss the projectile from one hand to the other. "These have the same effect on me as they would on anyone else. You cannot let your own attacks touch you. I suggest investing in gloves. Especially while learning."

"Whoa..." Dio trailed off. "So, how do you move the projectile if you're not actually touching it?"

"Simple. I control the air right around it. But not so much as to move any other air. It requires sharp focus." Dimentio explained.

Dio frowned slightly in confusion. Dimentio didn't seem to be intensely focused on the projectile. Perhaps with time controlling the magic grew less difficult and required less sharp focus.

"Alright. But... I don't know how to make one of those..." Dio explained. "I barely even know how to teleport a foot away from my current location. How did you realize your powers?"

"Well... it's simple really. I realized my powers because I had to. There was no other option. The world isn't perfect. The world is dark and cruel. It wants to hold its power over you, so it's your job to be more powerful. It wants to fight you, so you have to fight back before it swallows you whole. When it shoves you down, it's your job to get back up." Dimentio explained.

Dio seemed to nod along. Yes, all of this made sense.

However... the world did shove him down. Not in the same way that it shoved Dimentio down, but it still shoved him down by separating him from his home. So why didn't he have his powers?

All he could do was hardly teleport and transfer injuries, which he was sure seemed like child's play to Dimentio. He had been fighting to make it back home for so long, so why hadn't he realized his potential yet?

"I know what you're thinking," Dimentio said, seeming to read his mind. Was that another one of his powers, or was he just intuitive? Dio legitimately was unsure. "Think of it this way. Your powers are like a flame. You need something to light the flame. Like a spark."

"Well... anybody got a match?" Dio asked, lightly smiling.

Dimentio ignored this remark and shook his head, floating behind Dio and grabbing his arms, holding them up in a traditional magic user-stance. "Your powers will appear when your body declares that you need them. You need to connect to your emotions. Think of your anger."

Anger. It was an emotion that Dio did indeed feel, however he tried not to let himself feel angry often. After all, he never thought it would do him any good. Maybe that's why he never realized his power. He never let himself feel angry. Instead, he would always dismiss things and make excuses.

Maybe he could try being angry. Just once.

Just once.

He nodded, then closed his eyes, thinking of his last moments at home. Thinking about that neighbor. The kid he looked up to. The kid he loved. Cosmo, his name was. The kid who sent him away then left him behind. Dio had always been able to dismiss it, saying that perhaps Cosmo forgot.

But if he really thought about it... he was mad. How could he have sent him away and forgotten? Dio had been separated from his family for years because of him... so why wasn't he angry?!

He should be. He really should be. But it's so hard. It's so hard to be angry at someone you used to love. Someone you used to look up to and be inspired by.

But... that could also be a reason all the more to be angry. He took that trust, and what did he do with it? He abandoned Dio. That was that. That was the hard truth.

"And there you go," Dimentio's voice breathed. Dio felt Dimentio let go of his arms, then he slowly opened his eyes, gasping upon seeing it.

There it was.

A projectile. Smaller than Dimentio's and much less bright, but still there. He could feel the heat emitted from it.

"Oh dear Grambi, I did it," Dio whispered in awe, simply staring at it with wide eyes. The yellow and purple reflected off his dark eyes. But he didn't smile. He didn't smile, even though he felt so proud of himself. He didn't smile because he used anger to make it. Even if it was the only way to realize his powers, he didn't like it. He didn't like the feeling anger gave him. And he didn't like how this power had to be fueled by anger.

His healing power wasn't after all.

"So anger fuels all your magic?" Dio asked, still intensely focusing on the projectile, slightly fearful that he would accidentally lose control over it and burn himself.

"Yes," Dimentio answered plainly.

"....All of it?"

"Yes."

"Huh..." Dio trailed off. "Are you sure...?"

"Listen, I've been using magic for many years. I know how it works. It is all fueled by feelings of anger, devastation, and loss."

"But I don't think that's true," Dio muttered.

"Well, you don't get to say what is and isn't true about magic, now do you? After all, you haven't any knowledge of it." Dimentio pointed out in a slightly condescending tone.

"But I'm sure about this!" Dio exclaimed, looking up from the projectile and into Dimentio's eyes, hardly noticing the glow of his projectile increasing with his volume.

"How? You know nothing of-"

"I know a little! My brother's magic wasn't fueled by anger!" Dio pointed out, getting more and more strong with his words by the second.

"Well, maybe that's why he's dead."

"HE'S NOT DEAD!" Dio exclaimed, losing control over the projectile and sending it flying away from his grip, straight towards Mr. L. Dio quickly gasped and covered his mouth as he saw the magic clash into the man in green's shoulder.

Five minutes in and he was already hurting people!

"GAH! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!" Mr. L exclaimed, falling onto his back due to the amount of speed and force the projectile had. It didn't leave a visible wound, but that was how all the projectiles worked. They didn't leave marks but were equally as painful as a ball of flames. The man in green sat up, holding his right arm tightly as he squeezed his eyes shut, hissing in pain.

"Great. I told you, you've got to learn to control-" Dimentio started, crossing his arms when Dio suddenly shoved him aside and sprinted over towards Mr. L, who was muttering curses under his breath.

Dio slid down to his knees quickly so he was right next to him, trembling slightly as he looked at Mr. L's pained expression.

"Oh no no no, I'm sorry!" Dio said all too quickly, voice much quieter once again. "I'm so sorry. D-Don't worry, it won't hurt for long!"

"Another lie. Those projectiles leave quite a mark, and modern medical supplies cannot treat them," Dimentio casually pointed out.

Dio ignored his remarks and placed his hands on Mr. L's hurt shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut. Mr. L let out a small squeak in protest upon the sudden contact with the injury.

But then his pained expression slowly relaxed, as the pain was soon replaced with a feeling of... relief?

"What... are you doing...?" Mr. L asked, slowly opening his eyes and blinking at Dio as the cloaked man pressed his eyes shut, feeling the pain transfer into his own shoulder.

"Yes, what are you doing?!" Dimentio asked as well, teleporting over to the pair, generally curious.

"I'm sure you know exactly what I'm doing," Dio breathed. "I am transferring the injury I just oh-so brutally inflicted upon him to myself."

"....You can do that?" Dimentio asked, legitimately sounding somewhat shocked.