Héctor found himself standing on the steps of the Auditorio Nacional, though not in the way he ever imagined. He dreamed of playing here one day as a professional musician, not assessing if the roof looked stable or how well the doors would hold against attack. Still, it looked sturdy and would make a good shelter for the time being, so long as there were no surprises inside.

"What do you think, Coco?" Héctor asked, jostling her awake. "It'd make a pretty good home for a while, right?" It was their best option anyway. It was getting dark, and night was the worst time to be outside. "Think you can walk?" Her little legs gave out a few hours ago. Hopefully they'd recovered by now.

Coco flopped her head into the crook of his neck and mumbled her answer which seemed to be in the affirmative. He let her slide out of his arms and held her hand as they climbed the steps. The locks were weak from disrepair, which meant they'd have to reinforce the doors once inside.

"Don't go running off, Coco," Héctor said as he jammed a long pipe between the door handles. "We don't know what's in here yet."

He kept his hand clasped tightly around hers as they explored. They checked every inch to make sure their new hideaway was free of Monsters as Coco called them. She wasn't far off. He didn't have the heart to tell her what the Monsters once were.

The sadness crept in his mind as they wandered around. This place, though now falling to shambles from surviving the Mushroom War and left neglected for some length of time (he'd lost track of the days), still had some beauty to it. He only wished he could have seen it in its prime. It must have been magnificent. At least he got to see the pipe organ, though playing would attract too much attention. It was probably horribly out of tune anyway.

That the green room still had big, comfy couches felt like a miracle. At least his aching back would get some relief for now. Twenty Seven years old and already complaining about my back, he thought with a smirk. After everything that'd happened, this shouldn't be such a surprise, but it was hard letting go of the old normality.

"Papá, there's a fire place," Coco pointed out.

Ah, another perk. Coco hated the dark now, and frankly, so did he.

Héctor set his backpack down on a table and rummaged around for the matches.

"Why don't you use your magic, Papá?" Coco asked as she climbed on one of the sofas.

Héctor's hands froze in the bag and he suddenly became very aware of the weight he wore around his neck. He turned to her with an easy smile and said, "Don't want to waste it, m'ija. We need to save that for when it's really important."

After Héctor got the fire going, they ate some of their rations for supper. Coco then curled up in his lap and asked for a story. She liked the silly ones. In truth, he just retold episodes of cartoons from his childhood, or at least what he could recall from them. He'd have to make up some as he went, but she always enjoyed it and so did he. It was good for the both of them to forget for a while.

Soon enough, she was fast asleep. Héctor lay on the couch with his daughter's head on his chest. He combed his fingers through her hair and stared at the ceiling as he tried to keep his thoughts in check. He had to try very hard not to think of it, not to remember, but his old life was hard to forget in this room. It brought memories of him and Ernesto talking for hours about what their lived would be like once they became famous musicians. When they were younger, their fantasies usually revolved around playing huge, sell-out shows in iconic venues around the world, attending wild, star-studded parties, making ridiculous backstage demands just to see if they'd really happen… Then, when they were older, their thoughts turned to making their mark on music history, inspiring young musicians just like them, and for Héctor, providing the best life possible for his girls.

Well, Ernesto, I finally made it. I hope this is close enough for you. It was funny, really. Ernesto was always trying to get him to tour Mexico, and now he finally had.

It wasn't as if there'd be an audience to play for anyway. After months of traveling, trying to stay ahead of the Monsters and searching someone, anyone who could help, they found nothing. Coco was the only other human he'd seen since that day. As far as he could tell, he and Coco were the only people left in Mexico, possibly even the world. Though he refused to believe the latter. There must have been a few people like them who got lucky.

That day played out like a nightmare. The bright green mushroom cloud appeared in the sky. According to the news, it could be seen from all over the world. People were told to stay indoors, to not go outside for anything. Imelda, however, insisted on doing just that. Her brothers had gone out before the cloud appeared and hadn't come home. Héctor begged her not to go, but she was determined to make sure her brothers were safe. She told him to stay home and protect Coco. She kissed him, and that was the last time he saw her, or at least as she was.

After she left, a flash emitted from the cloud. Instinctually, Héctor shielded Coco with his body. When they came to, the Santa Cecelia they knew was gone. Buildings were crumbling, the sky was filled with black clouds, and the citizens had been turned into Things. Zombies wasn't the right word for them. They were strange, oozing slime monsters, the same green as the cloud which no longer loomed over the world. They weren't stable, if the puddles of green goo he found on his travels were any indication, but how long the Monsters lasted seemed to vary. He didn't know what they were or how this was possible, but he at least knew that they burned. Sometimes, late at night, when his thoughts turned as dark as the clouds that now permanently hung in the air, he wondered how many friends and family he had to burn in order for he and Coco to make their escape.

Héctor blinked a few times, trying to refocus his eyes. They drifted to a lounge chair across the room.

That would burn up nicely.

His heart stopped and he looked down at his daughter sleeping in his arms. No, not now.

It wouldn't take much. Just a little spark.

Stop it.

It didn't stop. An image came to his mind. A little flame slowly overtaking the chair, the fabric burning and peeling away, the stuffing melting and sinking down to the wooden supports, the fire consuming it until it was nothing but an ashen husk…

He felt his hands getting hot and stretched them as far away from Coco as possible. He closed his eyes and tried to pretend he was freezing in the artic. Imagining the harsh, cold air sometimes fought the thoughts long enough for his hands to cool.

The heat slowly disappeared from his palms. He tested them on the couch, and when he left no singe marks, he carefully picked up Coco and set her back down again on the cushions. She stirred a little in her sleep, but thankfully didn't wake. He slipped out of the room. If he could help it, he always stepped away from Coco when his mind went like this.

He wandered the halls and tried to force his mind to think of anything else, but the voice in his head refused to be ignored. It tugged at his consciousness, showing him tantalizing images of everything around him engulfed in flame. A discarded mop's handle crackling and splintering, an orange glow traveling up the stage curtain, rows of theater seats lighting up like matches…

His hand flew to his chest and he clenched his fist around the amulet hidden beneath his shirt. He couldn't recall what it was or why he had it. He suspected it took that memory from him like it slowly took away parts of his mind. He only knew he hadn't had these thoughts before it latched on to him. It demanded fire from him. For a time, it was satisfied with the monsters he had to burn to survive, but the monsters were starting to disappear and it wanted more. It wanted a host, it wanted him.

Why me? he often wondered. Why hadn't it been found by a scientist or archeologist, or someone with a chance in hell of knowing what it was and how to control it.

I saved you, it told him. I saved your girl. You owe me.

"No. I am in control."

Are you?

"I won't feed you. You won't get what you want from me."

He'd tried at first. He tried sneaking away and setting small fires to silence it, ones that would easily burn out on their own and leave no extra damage. It didn't like that. It wanted to spread, to consume, and every time he used his powers, he found himself enjoying the flames in a way that terrified him.

When he had to go all out, when he had to fight to protect his daughter, he opened the door to let the voice creep in just a bit more. It would get stronger, whisper to him more frequently. He thought he could control it. The first time, when he and Coco made their escape from Santa Cecelia, he didn't even know it was there. Each time after, it would be helpful, giving him ideas on how to fight and stay alive. But then, he let it in too much.

He couldn't remember what exactly happened. He just opened his eyes and saw Coco crying from her hiding place. From the smoldering puddles of green all around him, he deduced that he'd just fought off a swarm of monsters. He reached for her, but she pushed him away. She said he scared her. That was when he saw the burn on her arm.

Without hesitation, he tore the amulet off and threw it in a pile of wreckage. Almost immediately after, he fell to the ground in agony. He could feel the flesh on his back burning, melting away. It was unlike any pain he'd ever experienced. Somehow, he knew the source. It came from the wounds he should have sustained in the flash. He wasn't sure how long it took, but Coco slipped the amulet back around his neck and the pain disappeared.

If the situation had been different, he would have rather died than become the world-burning maniac the amulet wanted him to be, but Coco needed him. When he put it back on, he could swear the thing felt smug. It knew it had him trapped.

You won't survive without me, it told him. You and your little girl would be dead if not for me.

And so he was forced to continue wearing it, hosting it, letting it whisper in his mind. But he had one thing over the amulet. It couldn't start fires on its own. It needed Héctor as much as he needed it. He could resist its influence and exert his will over it. The amulet would not use his hands to cause destruction.

What more is there to destroy? What kind of world are you trying to preserve?

"Shut up."

Why fight? Look around you. The world is just kindling now. Just let loose one little spark and it will all go up in flames.

"I won't do it. The world is still worth something."He couldn't become a monster too. Coco had no one else. He needed to protect her. He needed to hang on.

What? For the girl? Why? What future could she have here?

He couldn't even respond. It was a question he turned over in his mind constantly. They would survive, that much was for certain, but to what end? What kind of world was Coco growing up in? How long could they last? What would they do with their lives now that the world was seemingly over?

There is no point. Burn it down. That's all you can do.

"Never. I'm done arguing with you."

The voice continued to try to make its point, but Héctor tried to block it out. He knew this would only lead to the amulet switching from the voice to images, but he'd been getting better at occupying himself with other things. He had a lot of practice ignoring things he didn't want in his brain, this voice just happened to be more persistent. That was all.

Héctor found his way to the stage. He walked up the edge and sat down, letting his feet dangle over the orchestra pit. How many greats once performed here? He wondered. And how many were even still alive? These halls were made to be filled with music. Would they ever be again?

They won't. They never will again.

Héctor sneered defiantly. We'll see about that.

He had a song in his mind already, one he'd been mentally writing on their long journey. Even if he had no guitar, or partner, or even an audience to play for, he was still a musician. Music was what he was, how he sorted out the world, and he needed it now more than ever.

He took a breath and his voice filled the empty space.

"Socorro, is it just you and me in the wreckage of the world?

That must be so confusing for a little girl."

You? You think you're good enough? You're only good for one thing.

"And I know you're going to need me here with you,

But I'm losing myself and I'm afraid you're going lose me too."

You see, there's no point in fighting.

"This magic keeps me alive, but it's making me crazy,

And I need it to save you, but who's going to save me?"

You are mine. I will take you eventually.

"Please forgive me for whatever I do,

When I don't remember you."

He continued singing his song, keeping his thoughts only on Coco until the voice ran out of things to say. Though he knew what came next. The amulet would show him images of fire and burning that gave him a twisted pleasure that he hated. He'd grown able to resist the temptation. He'd tell himself It's not me. It's the amulet, over and over until it gave up.

Today, it tried something new. It showed him Coco. It showed her running up to him with a smile on her face. He picked her up and gave her a toss. When he caught her, she was crying. He put her down and realized that his hands had burned through her dress and left large red marks on her skin. She ran from him. He tried to catch her by her hand, but he burned her again.

What might happen if you never use your fire? If you never get an outlet?

It continued to show him more visions, each worse than the last. Images of Coco and the fire twisted together in his mind. It repulsed him, it horrified him, and yet the flames… No, no it's not me. It's the amulet. He thought he might be sick.

Don't you want to keep her safe? Isn't she worth it?

He knew the price: another small piece of his mind to quiet the amulet for at least a while.

Isn't she worth it? It asked again.

Yes, yes, of course she was. He'd give the world for her. What was one more piece of his mind?

He got up and started looking around. Surely, he'd be able to find a metal trash can somewhere. He was still in control, and he still refused to let the fire burn wildly.

That would do nicely, the voice told him as his eyes landed on some discarded set pieces.

Yes, yes they would, he thought as he imagined the flames crawling across the wood. Maybe he didn't need the can. Maybe, it he dragged those outside and let them burn out on their own and if they didn't… He could feel his hands heating. Small twin flames flickered in his palms.

Loud, childish sobs echoed through the halls, accompanied by cries of "Papá!" His hands instantly went cool again. Abandoning his task, Héctor ran down the halls in the direction of the green room where he left Coco. He found her wandering just outside.

"Coco, I'm here," He said in a soothing tone and he knelt down beside her. "What's the matter?"

She threw herself into his arms and tucked her head beneath his chin. "I woke up and you weren't there. It was dark. I got scared."

"It's alright. I just went for a walk. I'm here now." He picked her up and carried her back into the room. "Let both get some sleep, eh?"

He laid down on the couch with Coco still clinging to him around his neck. "Don't leave again, Papá," she demanded through slowing sobs.

"Never," he answered, gently petting her hair. "Want me to sing for you?"

He felt her nod and began singing her a lullaby. He focused purely on the feeling of his daughter in his arms, the sound of her soft breathing, and the warmth of holding her close.

This was why he fought, why he clung to his mind, why he couldn't fall for the amulets tricks. If he couldn't do it for himself or the rest of the world, he'd do it for her. She was the world now, as far as he was concerned. He wouldn't let his daughter grow up with a monster for a father.

"Papá," Coco whispered, sleep in her voice, "I love you."

"I love you too, Coco," he whispered back as she drifted off. "My little flame."