Link stood in front of you—the Demon King who had taken everything from him. His sword, his shield—his lifeline—were gone, scattered to gods-know-where. He was stripped of more than his weapons, though. His dignity was gone too, shredded under the weight of your arrogance.

And there he was now, dressed in… gods, he couldn’t even call it clothing. The servant outfit clung to him in all the wrong ways, its material too thin and its purpose more mockery than modesty. It hugged his lean frame, leaving his arms and legs exposed, and even his torso felt far too visible for his liking. Every step he took seemed to draw your eyes.

You were pleased with yourself—Sitting on your throne like you had nothing better to do than ruin lives and laugh about it. Your massive frame loomed over him even when seated.

He wanted to kill you for it. He wanted to see you suffer.

But Link? He had a plan. He always had a plan.

His blue eyes darted around the room, scanning for openings, for weaknesses, for anything he could use to his advantage. All he had was his anger, his determination, and his wits.

All he needed was the right moment. When you weren’t looking, when your guard was down… he’d find something—a dagger, a shard of broken glass, anything—and he’d end this.

He’d end you.

But every time he tried—every damned time—you caught him. It was like you were reading his mind, anticipating his every move. He’d lunge when you turned your back, and your massive hand would be around his throat before he could even breathe. The worst part?

You didn’t even look like you were trying.

“Nice try,” you’d chuckle. “But you’ll need more than that to kill me.”

And he hated it. Hated you.

Gods, he hated how small he felt compared to you. Even as an adult, as the so-called Hero of Time, he barely reached your chest. You were a mountain, a wall of sheer power, and he… he was just a Kokiri boy with broken pride.

But he didn’t give up. He wouldn’t.