The Last Ducaine
By: americananime
A/N: Taking break from Japanese lessons online … hard … head … ow. BTW, does anyone think my spelling is getting better? Anyone? Oh, also, I don't believe there IS a correct spelling for "Boobla," being as it is not a word. If anyone can give me a valid resource that states said word, coming from an official site or material, I will apologize and bow to the Sempasi that helped me. If not, I shall gloat. (I am a snot.)
Also; when I began writing this story, I wasn't sure where I was going, but now I've decided on a Negaverse story. For those not familiar with the Negaverse concept (or to those who know it by another name.): A Negaverse is a universe parallel to the real one (or the cannon), only where things may be different or downright opposite from the real universe.
Such as, Scott Summers (X-Men) might find himself in a world where the X- Men are evil, he has to trust Magneato or the FOH, or so on. He might come into conflict with his best friend, Jean, or even Professor Xavier. Basically,in hero/villain type stories, it is a universe where the good guys are bad guys and the bad guys are good guys. Inverted, you might say.
I believe both DC Comics and Marvel have run stories along these lines (Altraverse? Something likes that.). Forgive me for the explanation time.
Dislcaimer: I don't own the Mighty Ducks, Wildwing, Nosedive, Canard, Mallory, Tanya, Duke, or Grin. I do not own Dragonous, Saurians, Chameleon, Siege, or Wraith. I also do not own Puckworld, Drake Ducaine, and other characters belonging only to Disney. I also do not own Phil (Who in their right mind would want to?)
I do own occasional back ground characters, Drake Ducaine's wife, and the context of this story.
Any resemblance to any story, comic, movie, people (living or dead), and places is coincidental.
_______________________________________________________
Wildwing sat up in his bed, going completely strait in his bed. Sweat steamed down his face, and he gave a deep sigh.
The dream always started out the same.
"Help," Nosedive cried.
Wildwing searched, searched, trying to locate where Nosedive was in trouble or whatever caused him to scream help.
A mist surrounded him; he was completely lost in a dream like world.
'You couldn't save him,'
'He was trapped with Dragonous'
'He was alone.'
'He doesn't trust you.'
'He doesn't love you.'
The voices had to stop. Wildwing ran, fast, as fast as he could, until the mist became nothing but a passing blur and a cool feeling on his face.
The voice kept on, chanting, faster and faster.
'You couldn't save him; He was trapped with Dragonous; He was alone; He doesn't trust you; He doesn't love you.'
It went faster and faster until the words were blurred together in a tapestry that was horrible and frightening.
Soon, he found himself in a hall. It was a long, great hall, made completely of stone. Around him were fires, huge fireplaces that ran the length of the hall. At the end of the stone passage way were three thrones; One held by a drake, smiling lightly with warm blue eyes, and one held by a small female duck, smiling with long blond hair flowing over her shoulders, which were clothed in white robes.
"Wildwing, first son of Jane and Dawson Drake, the Secondary Heir." Wildwing did a double take; the words hadn't been spoken aloud – they merely were whispered in his head.
Wildwing knew these people, in a distant sort of way. He blinked, then his eyes widened.
"Grandmother? Grandfather?" He ask, his voice ringing in the hall. He had the eerie feeling that his was the first real voice the walls and fire had heard in years.
The woman smiled, a smile that revealed age and wisdom and beauty.
"Yes, Wildwing, that is what you know us as," The drake said. Immediately, Wildwing's sense of fear vanished. Then skepticism came into his logical mind.
"Who or what is the secondary heir? Why am I him?" He demanded, slightly angry. The couple stared at him, apparently swapping words he couldn't hear.
"You are the secondary heir to the throne of Ducaine. Should something happen to the first heir, you would inherit the throne and rule."
"Rule what?" He ask, crossing his arms in aggravation.
"Rule the Last."
"Last what?"
"The Last of the People." Wildwing stared at them, blankly.
"You see, my son, once Puckworld wasn't a mere planet; it was an entire galaxy. The Saurians conquered them one by one, taking the glory from everything but Puckworld.
"Soon, as most old tales do, it faded into legend and disbelief. Puckworld was the only planet that had ever existed. Soon, the Saurians struck again."
"In the time of Drake Ducaine," Wildwing finished. The drake nodded ruefully.
"Yes; I know. I am Drake Ducaine. When they attacked, the population fell rapidly.
It was decided that a few from each race should be flung into the outer corners of the universe, to remain when none of our kind remained." Drake stared at the young man, who was taking this story in for the first time.
"What about the second attack?" He ask.
"The same thing happened. Only, this time, it wasn't decided – it was accident. Six races, one Dylian, whom you would know as Canard started it. Then there were two Zeens, yourself and your brother. Next was a C'Leef, Tanya, your scientist. A Ciza, the soldier Mallory. There was also a Zibi, Duke, and the Stiba, Grin."
Wildwing stared in amazement. It was true; Dylian, Zeen, C'Leef, Ciza, Stiba were all the major races on Puckworld. Each of the ducks was one. So history had repeated itself on complete accident.
"So you're saying that we have to rule over our teammates?" Wildwing demanded. Drake nodded, slowly and solemnly.
"Yo, Wing, you have that covered," Joked a voice from behind him. Nosedive walked up, his grin flashing, and leaned against a hardwood table that Wildwing thought hadn't been there before.
"Nosedive!" Wildwing said, indignantly.
"He has a point," Laughed the lady, smiling gently at Nosedive. Wildwing again felt the sensation that silent words passed between them.
"I don't 'rule over them.' I am their team leader for Heaven's sake."
"Yes; the Dylian's purpose we have not yet determined."
"He found the mask," Suggested Wildwing, lamely.
"He chose Wing to be our leader. He got us out of the work camp. We couldn't have survived without him," Nosedive said, thoughtfully.
Drake nodded again.
"Yes; Nosedive, you have learned much."
Suddenly, behind the throne that Drake was sitting on, a shadowed figure stood, holding a sword above his head.
"So have I," Said Nosedive. Only it wasn't Nosedive. It was the figure in shadow, who had the same voice as Nosedive, only darker.
Then the figure was splashed in light from the fire. He looked like Nosedive, only with darker hair and a leaner body, looking like he hadn't had a whole meal in a while.
He began to raise the sword above Drake's head, an then let it drop.
. . .
And Wildwing's dream always ended there. He rubbed his head, standing up slowly and looked at the clock. It was just past midnight, but he had no desire to sleep again.
'Dreams don't mean anything,' He told himself, reassured for the time being.
"Hey," Mallory said as he walked in the kitchen. Wildwing turned, offered brief and tired smile, and then put the coffee on.
Wildwing didn't stop to wonder why Mallory was lacing up her skates in a dark kitchen at midnight; Some things in this pond were best left unquestioned.
"So, you're up early," She said. As he took the coffee pot off the coffee maker, he made a dry little laugh.
"Don't you mean up late?" He ask. She shook her head, finally getting the laces tied.
"Nope. It's daytime now, so technically you're up early. Wanna get some practice in with me?" She turned and he gasp.
By the light of the refrigerator, he could see now that she was in a figure skater's uniform, and even her skates weren't her normal skates.
She grinned like one who was involved in a harmless conspiracy and said, "If you tell a soul …"
Wildwing grinned.
"I won't."
"You better not."
He put on his skates, taking a few laps around the rink. He'd never share it with the rest of the team, but he'd been good at both male figure skating, dance skating, and racing back on Puckworld.
After a few laps, Wildwing got tired of skating around, so he sat in the stands and watched Mallory do some tricks.
Double axle, triple axle … His eyes widened. Was a quadruple axle possible? Apparently it was.
She did figure eights and every other type of trick Wildwing knew, and was good at it.
When she stopped for breath in a few hours, someone behind Wildwing applauded.
"And Mallory places … no, the Russian Judge can't have a say in this … Mallory places Gold!" Duke cried, grinning. Mallory skated into the locker room, changing and walking back out in her normal street cloths.
"So, what are three insomniacs to do?" Duke ask. Mallory thought for a moment, and then smiled.
"I know this café that opens p really early …" She suggested. They nodded, figuring they could all use something other than the cheep coffee that Phil gave them.
They slipped in the café, seeing only a few other early risers. They sipped coffee and talked.
"Wildwing, not to be nosy, but why are you up every night at this hour?" Mallory ask.
Wildwing looked up, staring at her slightly, not sure how to answer.
"What were you doing up, Ms. Ice Princess?" He demanded, deciding to evade the question.
"I've been having weird dreams about Nosedive and some weird lady," She replied, her beak resting thoughtfully in her hands.
Duke nodded.
"Same here. They were something about being 'The Follower," er whatever." He said.
Wildwing nodded in confession.
"The old man – he said he was Drake Ducaine – looked just like my Grandfather and he said that I was the 'secondary heir,' and that Nosedive had followers from each of the major races."
"Us, fallow Nosedive?" Mallory giggled slightly, but stopped when she saw Wildwing's thoughtful frown.
"Do you think it has anything to do with that sword?" Wildwing slammed his fist down on the café table, his face reddening.
"If he's to be the leader, why didn't Canard appoint him, huh?" He ask, leaning back and sipping coffee for relaxation.
"You wouldn't be jealous, would you?" Mallory ask, taking a long sip and emptying her cup.
"No. Just confused. I'm very, very confused."
* * *
Nosedive rolled over as his alarm sounded. Three o'clock in the morning. He blinked, slightly, knowing he had set it for six. And no one, no one, messed with Nosedive's alarm clock. It was grounds for murder to wake him up one second before he had to.
He slid out, like a snake, under his covers and to the end of his bed, to a small metal box that lay at the foot. Taking the chain from his neck, he fit a small charm into the box's lock.
It opened without making a sound, and he pulled out the sword that it held. It was the very one he had wielded by himself, and it was what he went to instinctively for protection.
He grabbed it, jumping out of his bed. It was too cold for the pond. The sweat that formed on him as he ran along the length of the pond froze in tiny drops. It had been a long time, almost four years now, since he had been this cold. It had been a different time; it seemed like almost ages since he had been out there, having fun, in the snow the day the invasion had began. It seemed like a lifetime or longer since that day had passed.
Now he walked along to Wildwing's room, knowing that if there was refuge to be found, it would be there.
When he opened the door, he knew something was wrong. Cloths were laid all over the room, other things were a mess, and there was a window. Why on Earth would there be a window?
He walked over to it, examining it carefully. Wildwing's bedroom was underground; therefore if he had a window, it would only be fake scenery and artificial lighting.
This was a real window. He opened it, letting the sun pour in, along with the city's heavy, exhaust-filled air. He was not only on ground level, he was somewhere in an upper staircase.
He tried to calm himself, walking slowly over to the empty bed, and saw that it wasn't occupied.
"Wing?" He called, faintly. Why wouldn't Wildwing be in his bed? He knew that sometimes Wildwing woke up early, or else stayed up very late, but this whole thing was a little too weird for him to stand.
He walked out the door, heading for Duke's room. It simply wasn't there. He gasped, examined the wall, and found that there was no door at all.
"Kid," Said a gruff voice from behind him. Nosedive felt his body reeling backward toward the wall with a flick of a rough hand. He crashed into it, and saw Duke. Only it wasn't Duke.
He looked enough like the gray Zibi Nosedive knew, but he wasn't. Instead of a light grayish white streak that Duke had, there was simply a strand of black. His jumpsuit was black, covered with a shiny leather trench coat, and his missing eye looked more as if it was covered with a large gun rather than an eye patch.
"Don't get near my room again, Kid," Snarled the Duke look-alike. And then the duck simply walked through the wall.
Nosedive heard clicks of stiletto heels behind him, and he rolled over, seeing what looked slightly like a Tanya.
He couldn't help but stare. Tanya wore tight leather pants that came down past her knees, black heels, a black halter top, and a smirk that didn't convey humor.
Her hair was spiked toward the back, slick and blonder than normal blond was. It looked bleached, but it was even whiter than that; it practically glowed. She also wore heavy makeup, complete with dark red lipstick.
'Toto,' He thought. 'We aren't in Anaheim anymore.'
* * *
Wildwing yawned, looking at the clock in the corner of the café.
"Nosedive will be up soon," He said, standing up. Duke nodded, standing as well and stretching his legs.
They had been in the café for a few hours, each describing in vivid detail the same dream. Mallory was the last to stand, taking a last sip of coffee and putting a three dollar tip on the table.
They walked out, seeing that Anaheim was just waking up; shops were opening, people were out of bed, and the cars were revving up to fill the day's air with exhaust again.
'Man,' Mallory thought. 'I love the city.' She guessed it came from the fact that when she hadn't been in Military School, which had been located in the country, she had been in the city. So the city was the one place where she was with her family, or at least she was with her family when they were around.
She yawned, her missing sleep catching up with her.
"I don't know about you guys," She said. "But I am getting some sleep when we get home."
"I don't think so, Mal," Wildwing said, pulling out a small calendar. She groaned as he pointed out the press conference Phil had them scheduled for early that morning.
"Autographs and the press; that doesn't even require being alive, much less awake," Duke said, yawning with a smile.
"Yeah," Wildwing rubbed his head, unlocking the door to the pond.
Grin was sitting in the lobby, holding something in his arms.
"Wildwing," He said, looking up and handing Wildwing a sheet of paper. "I believe that your younger brother has gotten some type of severe brain damage. He has decided to go out."
Wildwing read the note.
Out to the shop. Be back in few minutes or days or whatever. Trash you later,
Nosedive.
Wildwing frowned slightly. This didn't look like his younger brother's handwriting; it didn't sound like him, either. Nosedive was prone to be irresponsible, but he usually took the time to either tell Wildwing or at least let them know where exactly he was going and when he would be back.
Minutes, days, or whatever? This wasn't his brother. Wildwing knew something was terribly, terribly wrong with this.
"Booblas?" Phil had apparently arrived. The ducks turned to him, their sleepy eyes looking at him with a begging not to go to wherever he wanted them to go.
"Wing, buddie, how would you feel about an extra autograph session today? Noon sound alright?" He ask, his charming and slippery smile greasing his face over.
"Now's not the time, Phil. Nosedive's taken off to gosh knows were and we're without sleep."
Phil looked startled and alarmed that one of his ducks had disappeared.
"Where the heck could he go? How long? Why did he take off? Whose fault is it? I'll have their head!" The manager was going into a sort of tantrum.
"Phil, we don't know where he went or why. This is the only thing he left," Wildwing handed over the note and Phil looked at it so quickly that Wildwing was forced to wonder if he had read it or not.
* * *
Canard stared at the consol, glaring, as Nosedive cautiously walked it.
"Get out," Said the tan drake before Nosedive had time to say a word.
Nosedive blinked, looking at him in what might have been considered shock or horror.
"Go to the shop or whatever," Canard said with a moan, turning and glaring. To Nosedive's surprise, his gun was drawn.
"I said go!"
Nosedive backed out of the room, deciding to head to the comic shop, hoping that Mookie and Thrash were at least somewhat normal.
He learned that he should be careful what he wished for.
When he walked in captain comics, he didn't see his familiar friends. The boy by the counter could have been mistaken for a military boot-camper, with his head shaved in a buzzed flat-top, his cloths pressed perfectly neat and his posture stiff. Nosedive blinked for a few moments, before he heard the scream come from behind him.
He turned. The features, from what he could see of them, were the same. Her face was the same, anyway. The hair was a pretty shade of brown, hanging long past her hips, and her face wasn't covered in piercing and outrageously colored makeup.
"Mookie?" He ask, in amazement.
'Mookie' again shrieked, dropping the stack of comic books that she had been holding.
"I told you to stay away from here!" The guy that Nosedive supposed to be Thrash yelled, grabbing some sort of weapon from behind the counter.
Nosedive gripped his sword and then fled, wondering what was wrong with his friends.
He ran through the smog-filled air of the city, towards the outer limits.
"Folks, these are the Saurians! Get tee shirts, get pictures, get autographs!" Yelled a voice that Nosedive recognized as Phil's.
He turned around the corner and saw Dragonous, Siege, Chameleon, Wraith, and Phil. He let out a small gasp, seeing his manager marketing his worst enemies. Never, ever, in his worst moments of fury had he ever wished Phil on Dragonous. Now, her he was in a strange place, and Phil had some how wrangled the Saurians into doing business for him.
At the sight of Nosedive, the crowd of adoring fans fled the scene, trying their best to get away. Apparently, they were terrified of Nosedive, just like Mookie.
"Dragonous?" Nosedive's voice of reason was starting to kick in. If everything in this universe was its own opposite, then the Saurians had to be good.
Dragonous was now standing, in something that looked less threatening than his normal robe, ready for combat.
"Dude, I don't want to fight," Nosedive yelled, trying to block any attack that the Saurians might throw. They didn't do anything to him.
"What are you here for?" Wraith ask, his arms folded. He looked slightly interested, but distrustful.
"I … I'm not who you think I am," He stuttered, trying to think of a good excuse as to why he was here.
"What," Dragonous ask. "Would you mean by that?"
"I mean … I'm not your Nosedive … I'm another Nosedive …" Dive was at a loss for words as he simply stared at the Saurians in helplessness.
"Dragonous, something's different …" Chameleon said. Dragonous nodded, thoughtfully.
"Phil … I have a feeling that I'm going to have a long talk with this little guy. Cancel appointments for the day, please," Dragonous said, staring down at the much smaller drake.
Phil nodded, dialing into his cell phone and speaking quietly. Suddenly, Nosedive felt a tingle and a flash, and he was no longer standing where he had been.
Now he was inside what might be called the Raptor, only it wasn't so cold. It had personal touches, like pictures of the group, last night's pizza containers, and tons of comic books.
"You look surprised, confused, and scared," Dragonous's voice was much softer than usual, or much softer than Nosedive was used to. The blond drake turned, smiling faintly.
"I woke up this morning and found that I was in a universe completely opposite of mine. Would you be surprised, confused, or scared?" He ask, a tone of sarcasm playing in his voice, despite himself.
"I'd be quite afraid, actually." Dragonous slipped on a pair of glasses, staring at Nosedive contently and waiting for the story to come out.
"I was having some sort of bad dream, like I was falling. The only thing solid around me was the sword. And then my alarm went off way to early, and I woke up. I figured, 'If anything's wrong, Wing will tell me,' So I went to Wildwing's room.
"And then it was all messy, not like Wildwing's, and it was above ground. Then I saw Duke in the hall, and he started pushing me around. Next I see Tanya, and she's dressed all weird, not like Tanya. And then Canard; What the heck is Canard doing on this planet? He gets ready to shoot me if I don't leave, so I go to the comic shop, and my two best friends are completely whacked, so I start running before Thrash shoots me, and then I met you.
"I figured that, since all the good people were bad, all the bad people would be good …" Nosedive stared at Dragonous with an air of even more intense helplessness.
Dragonous nodded, solemnly. He walked over to what Nosedive had thought was a TV, flicking it on.
Siege came onto the monitor, smiling and actually giving himself a pleasant look.
"Siege, I believe this isn't the Nosedive we know. He'll stay overnight; with his help, we may be able to conduct a study of dimensional travel," Dragonous told him. Siege gave a brief nod.
"I'll get the upper wing guest rooms ready." The screen flicked back off.
"Chameleon," Dragonous said as the screen faded to black and then faded to Chameleon.
"Yes, Lord Dragonous?" He said, his eyes looking intelligent and earnest.
"How much damage control with the press can you do?"
"Phil is already working on it; we'll be filing paperwork about the incident for weeks if the NPSD has anything to say about it. Klegghorn is pulling for something about an illegal immigration suit on us again." Dragonous sighed, somewhat in disgust.
"I could guess as much. Any time the media gets very stirred up about us and the ducks, he does. Any way, tell him that the duck has surrendered to us. That should keep them busy with useless questions for the time being. Make up information if you have to, but stick pretty close to the truth."
Chameleon nodded, and turned off the screen from his end. Nosedive stared at the TV, still seeming to be in shock.
Then fear began to sink in. He thought he'd conquered the paranoia a long time ago, but it was running back. He gripped the sword at his belt, rocking back and forth. Dragonous noticed that he was trembling, and stepped closer, resting a dragon-like claw on Nosedive's small, trembling shoulders.
"What's the matter?"
"You really wouldn't believe who you are in my universe … what you've done …" Nosedive was completely lost in his fears, but some calm voice of reason soothed them. He thought of Wildwing, trying his best to visualize his brother calming him of his fears. 'The Saurians can't hurt you. They won't. Not these,' He thought, trying to keep the tears at bay.
"Nosedive?" Dragonous shook him slightly, trying to make him come out of the spell of fear.
"I …" Nosedive promptly fainted into darkness.
By: americananime
A/N: Taking break from Japanese lessons online … hard … head … ow. BTW, does anyone think my spelling is getting better? Anyone? Oh, also, I don't believe there IS a correct spelling for "Boobla," being as it is not a word. If anyone can give me a valid resource that states said word, coming from an official site or material, I will apologize and bow to the Sempasi that helped me. If not, I shall gloat. (I am a snot.)
Also; when I began writing this story, I wasn't sure where I was going, but now I've decided on a Negaverse story. For those not familiar with the Negaverse concept (or to those who know it by another name.): A Negaverse is a universe parallel to the real one (or the cannon), only where things may be different or downright opposite from the real universe.
Such as, Scott Summers (X-Men) might find himself in a world where the X- Men are evil, he has to trust Magneato or the FOH, or so on. He might come into conflict with his best friend, Jean, or even Professor Xavier. Basically,in hero/villain type stories, it is a universe where the good guys are bad guys and the bad guys are good guys. Inverted, you might say.
I believe both DC Comics and Marvel have run stories along these lines (Altraverse? Something likes that.). Forgive me for the explanation time.
Dislcaimer: I don't own the Mighty Ducks, Wildwing, Nosedive, Canard, Mallory, Tanya, Duke, or Grin. I do not own Dragonous, Saurians, Chameleon, Siege, or Wraith. I also do not own Puckworld, Drake Ducaine, and other characters belonging only to Disney. I also do not own Phil (Who in their right mind would want to?)
I do own occasional back ground characters, Drake Ducaine's wife, and the context of this story.
Any resemblance to any story, comic, movie, people (living or dead), and places is coincidental.
_______________________________________________________
Wildwing sat up in his bed, going completely strait in his bed. Sweat steamed down his face, and he gave a deep sigh.
The dream always started out the same.
"Help," Nosedive cried.
Wildwing searched, searched, trying to locate where Nosedive was in trouble or whatever caused him to scream help.
A mist surrounded him; he was completely lost in a dream like world.
'You couldn't save him,'
'He was trapped with Dragonous'
'He was alone.'
'He doesn't trust you.'
'He doesn't love you.'
The voices had to stop. Wildwing ran, fast, as fast as he could, until the mist became nothing but a passing blur and a cool feeling on his face.
The voice kept on, chanting, faster and faster.
'You couldn't save him; He was trapped with Dragonous; He was alone; He doesn't trust you; He doesn't love you.'
It went faster and faster until the words were blurred together in a tapestry that was horrible and frightening.
Soon, he found himself in a hall. It was a long, great hall, made completely of stone. Around him were fires, huge fireplaces that ran the length of the hall. At the end of the stone passage way were three thrones; One held by a drake, smiling lightly with warm blue eyes, and one held by a small female duck, smiling with long blond hair flowing over her shoulders, which were clothed in white robes.
"Wildwing, first son of Jane and Dawson Drake, the Secondary Heir." Wildwing did a double take; the words hadn't been spoken aloud – they merely were whispered in his head.
Wildwing knew these people, in a distant sort of way. He blinked, then his eyes widened.
"Grandmother? Grandfather?" He ask, his voice ringing in the hall. He had the eerie feeling that his was the first real voice the walls and fire had heard in years.
The woman smiled, a smile that revealed age and wisdom and beauty.
"Yes, Wildwing, that is what you know us as," The drake said. Immediately, Wildwing's sense of fear vanished. Then skepticism came into his logical mind.
"Who or what is the secondary heir? Why am I him?" He demanded, slightly angry. The couple stared at him, apparently swapping words he couldn't hear.
"You are the secondary heir to the throne of Ducaine. Should something happen to the first heir, you would inherit the throne and rule."
"Rule what?" He ask, crossing his arms in aggravation.
"Rule the Last."
"Last what?"
"The Last of the People." Wildwing stared at them, blankly.
"You see, my son, once Puckworld wasn't a mere planet; it was an entire galaxy. The Saurians conquered them one by one, taking the glory from everything but Puckworld.
"Soon, as most old tales do, it faded into legend and disbelief. Puckworld was the only planet that had ever existed. Soon, the Saurians struck again."
"In the time of Drake Ducaine," Wildwing finished. The drake nodded ruefully.
"Yes; I know. I am Drake Ducaine. When they attacked, the population fell rapidly.
It was decided that a few from each race should be flung into the outer corners of the universe, to remain when none of our kind remained." Drake stared at the young man, who was taking this story in for the first time.
"What about the second attack?" He ask.
"The same thing happened. Only, this time, it wasn't decided – it was accident. Six races, one Dylian, whom you would know as Canard started it. Then there were two Zeens, yourself and your brother. Next was a C'Leef, Tanya, your scientist. A Ciza, the soldier Mallory. There was also a Zibi, Duke, and the Stiba, Grin."
Wildwing stared in amazement. It was true; Dylian, Zeen, C'Leef, Ciza, Stiba were all the major races on Puckworld. Each of the ducks was one. So history had repeated itself on complete accident.
"So you're saying that we have to rule over our teammates?" Wildwing demanded. Drake nodded, slowly and solemnly.
"Yo, Wing, you have that covered," Joked a voice from behind him. Nosedive walked up, his grin flashing, and leaned against a hardwood table that Wildwing thought hadn't been there before.
"Nosedive!" Wildwing said, indignantly.
"He has a point," Laughed the lady, smiling gently at Nosedive. Wildwing again felt the sensation that silent words passed between them.
"I don't 'rule over them.' I am their team leader for Heaven's sake."
"Yes; the Dylian's purpose we have not yet determined."
"He found the mask," Suggested Wildwing, lamely.
"He chose Wing to be our leader. He got us out of the work camp. We couldn't have survived without him," Nosedive said, thoughtfully.
Drake nodded again.
"Yes; Nosedive, you have learned much."
Suddenly, behind the throne that Drake was sitting on, a shadowed figure stood, holding a sword above his head.
"So have I," Said Nosedive. Only it wasn't Nosedive. It was the figure in shadow, who had the same voice as Nosedive, only darker.
Then the figure was splashed in light from the fire. He looked like Nosedive, only with darker hair and a leaner body, looking like he hadn't had a whole meal in a while.
He began to raise the sword above Drake's head, an then let it drop.
. . .
And Wildwing's dream always ended there. He rubbed his head, standing up slowly and looked at the clock. It was just past midnight, but he had no desire to sleep again.
'Dreams don't mean anything,' He told himself, reassured for the time being.
"Hey," Mallory said as he walked in the kitchen. Wildwing turned, offered brief and tired smile, and then put the coffee on.
Wildwing didn't stop to wonder why Mallory was lacing up her skates in a dark kitchen at midnight; Some things in this pond were best left unquestioned.
"So, you're up early," She said. As he took the coffee pot off the coffee maker, he made a dry little laugh.
"Don't you mean up late?" He ask. She shook her head, finally getting the laces tied.
"Nope. It's daytime now, so technically you're up early. Wanna get some practice in with me?" She turned and he gasp.
By the light of the refrigerator, he could see now that she was in a figure skater's uniform, and even her skates weren't her normal skates.
She grinned like one who was involved in a harmless conspiracy and said, "If you tell a soul …"
Wildwing grinned.
"I won't."
"You better not."
He put on his skates, taking a few laps around the rink. He'd never share it with the rest of the team, but he'd been good at both male figure skating, dance skating, and racing back on Puckworld.
After a few laps, Wildwing got tired of skating around, so he sat in the stands and watched Mallory do some tricks.
Double axle, triple axle … His eyes widened. Was a quadruple axle possible? Apparently it was.
She did figure eights and every other type of trick Wildwing knew, and was good at it.
When she stopped for breath in a few hours, someone behind Wildwing applauded.
"And Mallory places … no, the Russian Judge can't have a say in this … Mallory places Gold!" Duke cried, grinning. Mallory skated into the locker room, changing and walking back out in her normal street cloths.
"So, what are three insomniacs to do?" Duke ask. Mallory thought for a moment, and then smiled.
"I know this café that opens p really early …" She suggested. They nodded, figuring they could all use something other than the cheep coffee that Phil gave them.
They slipped in the café, seeing only a few other early risers. They sipped coffee and talked.
"Wildwing, not to be nosy, but why are you up every night at this hour?" Mallory ask.
Wildwing looked up, staring at her slightly, not sure how to answer.
"What were you doing up, Ms. Ice Princess?" He demanded, deciding to evade the question.
"I've been having weird dreams about Nosedive and some weird lady," She replied, her beak resting thoughtfully in her hands.
Duke nodded.
"Same here. They were something about being 'The Follower," er whatever." He said.
Wildwing nodded in confession.
"The old man – he said he was Drake Ducaine – looked just like my Grandfather and he said that I was the 'secondary heir,' and that Nosedive had followers from each of the major races."
"Us, fallow Nosedive?" Mallory giggled slightly, but stopped when she saw Wildwing's thoughtful frown.
"Do you think it has anything to do with that sword?" Wildwing slammed his fist down on the café table, his face reddening.
"If he's to be the leader, why didn't Canard appoint him, huh?" He ask, leaning back and sipping coffee for relaxation.
"You wouldn't be jealous, would you?" Mallory ask, taking a long sip and emptying her cup.
"No. Just confused. I'm very, very confused."
* * *
Nosedive rolled over as his alarm sounded. Three o'clock in the morning. He blinked, slightly, knowing he had set it for six. And no one, no one, messed with Nosedive's alarm clock. It was grounds for murder to wake him up one second before he had to.
He slid out, like a snake, under his covers and to the end of his bed, to a small metal box that lay at the foot. Taking the chain from his neck, he fit a small charm into the box's lock.
It opened without making a sound, and he pulled out the sword that it held. It was the very one he had wielded by himself, and it was what he went to instinctively for protection.
He grabbed it, jumping out of his bed. It was too cold for the pond. The sweat that formed on him as he ran along the length of the pond froze in tiny drops. It had been a long time, almost four years now, since he had been this cold. It had been a different time; it seemed like almost ages since he had been out there, having fun, in the snow the day the invasion had began. It seemed like a lifetime or longer since that day had passed.
Now he walked along to Wildwing's room, knowing that if there was refuge to be found, it would be there.
When he opened the door, he knew something was wrong. Cloths were laid all over the room, other things were a mess, and there was a window. Why on Earth would there be a window?
He walked over to it, examining it carefully. Wildwing's bedroom was underground; therefore if he had a window, it would only be fake scenery and artificial lighting.
This was a real window. He opened it, letting the sun pour in, along with the city's heavy, exhaust-filled air. He was not only on ground level, he was somewhere in an upper staircase.
He tried to calm himself, walking slowly over to the empty bed, and saw that it wasn't occupied.
"Wing?" He called, faintly. Why wouldn't Wildwing be in his bed? He knew that sometimes Wildwing woke up early, or else stayed up very late, but this whole thing was a little too weird for him to stand.
He walked out the door, heading for Duke's room. It simply wasn't there. He gasped, examined the wall, and found that there was no door at all.
"Kid," Said a gruff voice from behind him. Nosedive felt his body reeling backward toward the wall with a flick of a rough hand. He crashed into it, and saw Duke. Only it wasn't Duke.
He looked enough like the gray Zibi Nosedive knew, but he wasn't. Instead of a light grayish white streak that Duke had, there was simply a strand of black. His jumpsuit was black, covered with a shiny leather trench coat, and his missing eye looked more as if it was covered with a large gun rather than an eye patch.
"Don't get near my room again, Kid," Snarled the Duke look-alike. And then the duck simply walked through the wall.
Nosedive heard clicks of stiletto heels behind him, and he rolled over, seeing what looked slightly like a Tanya.
He couldn't help but stare. Tanya wore tight leather pants that came down past her knees, black heels, a black halter top, and a smirk that didn't convey humor.
Her hair was spiked toward the back, slick and blonder than normal blond was. It looked bleached, but it was even whiter than that; it practically glowed. She also wore heavy makeup, complete with dark red lipstick.
'Toto,' He thought. 'We aren't in Anaheim anymore.'
* * *
Wildwing yawned, looking at the clock in the corner of the café.
"Nosedive will be up soon," He said, standing up. Duke nodded, standing as well and stretching his legs.
They had been in the café for a few hours, each describing in vivid detail the same dream. Mallory was the last to stand, taking a last sip of coffee and putting a three dollar tip on the table.
They walked out, seeing that Anaheim was just waking up; shops were opening, people were out of bed, and the cars were revving up to fill the day's air with exhaust again.
'Man,' Mallory thought. 'I love the city.' She guessed it came from the fact that when she hadn't been in Military School, which had been located in the country, she had been in the city. So the city was the one place where she was with her family, or at least she was with her family when they were around.
She yawned, her missing sleep catching up with her.
"I don't know about you guys," She said. "But I am getting some sleep when we get home."
"I don't think so, Mal," Wildwing said, pulling out a small calendar. She groaned as he pointed out the press conference Phil had them scheduled for early that morning.
"Autographs and the press; that doesn't even require being alive, much less awake," Duke said, yawning with a smile.
"Yeah," Wildwing rubbed his head, unlocking the door to the pond.
Grin was sitting in the lobby, holding something in his arms.
"Wildwing," He said, looking up and handing Wildwing a sheet of paper. "I believe that your younger brother has gotten some type of severe brain damage. He has decided to go out."
Wildwing read the note.
Out to the shop. Be back in few minutes or days or whatever. Trash you later,
Nosedive.
Wildwing frowned slightly. This didn't look like his younger brother's handwriting; it didn't sound like him, either. Nosedive was prone to be irresponsible, but he usually took the time to either tell Wildwing or at least let them know where exactly he was going and when he would be back.
Minutes, days, or whatever? This wasn't his brother. Wildwing knew something was terribly, terribly wrong with this.
"Booblas?" Phil had apparently arrived. The ducks turned to him, their sleepy eyes looking at him with a begging not to go to wherever he wanted them to go.
"Wing, buddie, how would you feel about an extra autograph session today? Noon sound alright?" He ask, his charming and slippery smile greasing his face over.
"Now's not the time, Phil. Nosedive's taken off to gosh knows were and we're without sleep."
Phil looked startled and alarmed that one of his ducks had disappeared.
"Where the heck could he go? How long? Why did he take off? Whose fault is it? I'll have their head!" The manager was going into a sort of tantrum.
"Phil, we don't know where he went or why. This is the only thing he left," Wildwing handed over the note and Phil looked at it so quickly that Wildwing was forced to wonder if he had read it or not.
* * *
Canard stared at the consol, glaring, as Nosedive cautiously walked it.
"Get out," Said the tan drake before Nosedive had time to say a word.
Nosedive blinked, looking at him in what might have been considered shock or horror.
"Go to the shop or whatever," Canard said with a moan, turning and glaring. To Nosedive's surprise, his gun was drawn.
"I said go!"
Nosedive backed out of the room, deciding to head to the comic shop, hoping that Mookie and Thrash were at least somewhat normal.
He learned that he should be careful what he wished for.
When he walked in captain comics, he didn't see his familiar friends. The boy by the counter could have been mistaken for a military boot-camper, with his head shaved in a buzzed flat-top, his cloths pressed perfectly neat and his posture stiff. Nosedive blinked for a few moments, before he heard the scream come from behind him.
He turned. The features, from what he could see of them, were the same. Her face was the same, anyway. The hair was a pretty shade of brown, hanging long past her hips, and her face wasn't covered in piercing and outrageously colored makeup.
"Mookie?" He ask, in amazement.
'Mookie' again shrieked, dropping the stack of comic books that she had been holding.
"I told you to stay away from here!" The guy that Nosedive supposed to be Thrash yelled, grabbing some sort of weapon from behind the counter.
Nosedive gripped his sword and then fled, wondering what was wrong with his friends.
He ran through the smog-filled air of the city, towards the outer limits.
"Folks, these are the Saurians! Get tee shirts, get pictures, get autographs!" Yelled a voice that Nosedive recognized as Phil's.
He turned around the corner and saw Dragonous, Siege, Chameleon, Wraith, and Phil. He let out a small gasp, seeing his manager marketing his worst enemies. Never, ever, in his worst moments of fury had he ever wished Phil on Dragonous. Now, her he was in a strange place, and Phil had some how wrangled the Saurians into doing business for him.
At the sight of Nosedive, the crowd of adoring fans fled the scene, trying their best to get away. Apparently, they were terrified of Nosedive, just like Mookie.
"Dragonous?" Nosedive's voice of reason was starting to kick in. If everything in this universe was its own opposite, then the Saurians had to be good.
Dragonous was now standing, in something that looked less threatening than his normal robe, ready for combat.
"Dude, I don't want to fight," Nosedive yelled, trying to block any attack that the Saurians might throw. They didn't do anything to him.
"What are you here for?" Wraith ask, his arms folded. He looked slightly interested, but distrustful.
"I … I'm not who you think I am," He stuttered, trying to think of a good excuse as to why he was here.
"What," Dragonous ask. "Would you mean by that?"
"I mean … I'm not your Nosedive … I'm another Nosedive …" Dive was at a loss for words as he simply stared at the Saurians in helplessness.
"Dragonous, something's different …" Chameleon said. Dragonous nodded, thoughtfully.
"Phil … I have a feeling that I'm going to have a long talk with this little guy. Cancel appointments for the day, please," Dragonous said, staring down at the much smaller drake.
Phil nodded, dialing into his cell phone and speaking quietly. Suddenly, Nosedive felt a tingle and a flash, and he was no longer standing where he had been.
Now he was inside what might be called the Raptor, only it wasn't so cold. It had personal touches, like pictures of the group, last night's pizza containers, and tons of comic books.
"You look surprised, confused, and scared," Dragonous's voice was much softer than usual, or much softer than Nosedive was used to. The blond drake turned, smiling faintly.
"I woke up this morning and found that I was in a universe completely opposite of mine. Would you be surprised, confused, or scared?" He ask, a tone of sarcasm playing in his voice, despite himself.
"I'd be quite afraid, actually." Dragonous slipped on a pair of glasses, staring at Nosedive contently and waiting for the story to come out.
"I was having some sort of bad dream, like I was falling. The only thing solid around me was the sword. And then my alarm went off way to early, and I woke up. I figured, 'If anything's wrong, Wing will tell me,' So I went to Wildwing's room.
"And then it was all messy, not like Wildwing's, and it was above ground. Then I saw Duke in the hall, and he started pushing me around. Next I see Tanya, and she's dressed all weird, not like Tanya. And then Canard; What the heck is Canard doing on this planet? He gets ready to shoot me if I don't leave, so I go to the comic shop, and my two best friends are completely whacked, so I start running before Thrash shoots me, and then I met you.
"I figured that, since all the good people were bad, all the bad people would be good …" Nosedive stared at Dragonous with an air of even more intense helplessness.
Dragonous nodded, solemnly. He walked over to what Nosedive had thought was a TV, flicking it on.
Siege came onto the monitor, smiling and actually giving himself a pleasant look.
"Siege, I believe this isn't the Nosedive we know. He'll stay overnight; with his help, we may be able to conduct a study of dimensional travel," Dragonous told him. Siege gave a brief nod.
"I'll get the upper wing guest rooms ready." The screen flicked back off.
"Chameleon," Dragonous said as the screen faded to black and then faded to Chameleon.
"Yes, Lord Dragonous?" He said, his eyes looking intelligent and earnest.
"How much damage control with the press can you do?"
"Phil is already working on it; we'll be filing paperwork about the incident for weeks if the NPSD has anything to say about it. Klegghorn is pulling for something about an illegal immigration suit on us again." Dragonous sighed, somewhat in disgust.
"I could guess as much. Any time the media gets very stirred up about us and the ducks, he does. Any way, tell him that the duck has surrendered to us. That should keep them busy with useless questions for the time being. Make up information if you have to, but stick pretty close to the truth."
Chameleon nodded, and turned off the screen from his end. Nosedive stared at the TV, still seeming to be in shock.
Then fear began to sink in. He thought he'd conquered the paranoia a long time ago, but it was running back. He gripped the sword at his belt, rocking back and forth. Dragonous noticed that he was trembling, and stepped closer, resting a dragon-like claw on Nosedive's small, trembling shoulders.
"What's the matter?"
"You really wouldn't believe who you are in my universe … what you've done …" Nosedive was completely lost in his fears, but some calm voice of reason soothed them. He thought of Wildwing, trying his best to visualize his brother calming him of his fears. 'The Saurians can't hurt you. They won't. Not these,' He thought, trying to keep the tears at bay.
"Nosedive?" Dragonous shook him slightly, trying to make him come out of the spell of fear.
"I …" Nosedive promptly fainted into darkness.