In an alternate turn of events, instead of being knocked off a cliff for a literal cliff-hanger after claiming Saturday's Key, Arthur has a nice heart-to-heart with her instead.
"...and against all trouble!" he finished.
Instantly, the Key flew from Saturday's hand to Arthur's. He caught it easily, while she merely drew her umbrella and prepared to blast him off the cliff.
"Not that I have not enjoyed puppeteering the fall of the lower demesnes," she said, "but this is beyond ridiculous."
"You think that umbrella can do anything to the Sixth Key?" Arthur said.
"Touche." Saturday suddenly spat a word that made Arthur's skin tingle. He ducked as a fire ball raced towards him, but it arced harmlessly over his head to incinerate a giant caterpillar that was about to eat his head off.
"Uh, thanks," he said.
"Do not thank me," she sniffed. "Repay me. Now that you have taken my Key, I am at the mercy of Lord Sunday's insufferable insectoids."
"Oh… well, I could give you a lift back to the Upper House," Arthur said.
Her eyes flashed angrily. "Fool! I shall not turn my back on the Gardens- not now, when I am so close! I WILL see Lord Sunday, and he WILL kneel before me!"
"If you want him deposed," said Arthur, "we could work together?" He couldn't believe he was offering it, but she had a point- if he left her here, she would just be eaten by the ginormous bugs or end up easy pickings for the Piper.
"I am willing," she said, "to make a temporary alliance… for the time being."
"Okay, then," Arthur said. "So where's Sunday?"
"Oh, no doubt in Elysium," said Saturday.
Several minutes later, they reached Elysium with no harm to either of them. Saturday with an umbrella and Arthur with several Keys made for a pretty kick-ass team, and no bug could get in their way. They had some trouble with a huge earthworm while climbing the stairs, but even that didn't pose much of a challenge.
"Okey-dokey, we're here," Arthur said. "Where is he?"
Lord Sunday strode towards them, his hand clutching the Seventh Key. "You cannot claim the Key until you free the Will," he said, pointing to a low cage in which an apple tree grew. "And since the lock was made with the Seventh Key, you cannot free the Will without it." He smiled. "Begging the question, eh?"
"That was my method, you method-stealer," said Saturday.
"Obviously not, since you hid yours in the rain," Sunday retorted.
"Oh, be quiet, you Mother's boy," Saturday snapped. "Even if you did not steal this, you have stolen much more. Like my Gardens!"
"Ad hominem?" said Sunday. "Or red herring? Hmm…"
"Listen to me when I am speaking!" Saturday screeched. "I came all this way to make you grovel at my feet!'
"That is a definite non sequitur," Sunday asserted.
"Argh!" Saturday said. "Arthur, blast him. Take that Key and blast him until he is in so much pain he will open the lock of his own accord."
"Wouldn't you rather blast me?" Sunday said.
"Yes," Saturday replied, "but seeing as I am not the one holding the Key…"
Arthur blinked. "Er, I don't want to hurt you, Sunday. Just hand over the Key and, I don't know, give Saturday an apartment up here or something, and we'll all be happy campers."
But Sunday merely looked at his watch and said, "Oh dear, they are late."
At that moment, the Grower and the Reaper appeared. "Milord," they said in unison.
"Great. Now that we are all assembled in order to unite the two of us in holy matrimony," said Sunday, "Arthur, please pronounce Lady Saturday and I wife and husband."
"Wait- what?" Arthur said.
"We thought it best to have a Rightful Heir pronounce us married," Saturday explained. "That is why I hoped you would make your way here, and I would arrive in due time. Sunday and I have planned this for centuries."
"Really?"
"Yes," said Sunday, and knelt before Saturday, as she had so often told Arthur he would. "I will love you to the end of my days!"
"I won't marry you!" said Arthur. "This is ridiculous! The whole House is falling apart at the seams because you wanted a dramatic wedding?!"
"Is there an issue?" Saturday asked.
"Yes!" Arthur exclaimed.
"In that case, feel free to know that the Nothing is spreading towards the Gardens and will soon consume the area your mother currently resides in," Lord Sunday informed him.
"You- you're going to kill my mother?"
"We wanted to have your father as a hostage too, but that didn't work out, since Saturday's Nithling failed," Sunday sighed.
"You were going to kill my father too?!"
"No, Arthur," said Saturday. "He IS your father."
"That's true," said Lord Sunday, "and Saturday is your biological mother."
"WHAT?!"
"Just think about it- there was a plague when you were born, which is typical of Denizens or inimical life on a Secondary Realm," said Sunday. "With sorcery, it would be easy enough to fool the Penhaligons into thinking we were lifelong friends."
"I d-don't believe this," Arthur stammered.
"Arthur, listen to your mother and pronounce us man and wife already!" Saturday hissed. "I am getting impatient."
"But- but- that means I was-"
"Born out of wedlock, yes, unfortunate, but GET ON WITH THINGS!" Sunday shouted.
"Uh, okay. By the powers vested in me, I pronounce you man and wife, unless there is anyone who objects…"
At that moment, the Piper appeared. "I object!" he said. "You are MY son!"
"LIES!" screeched Saturday.
"LIES!" screeched Dame Primus, who thought now was as good a time as any. "What hullabaloo is going on here? The universe hasn't blown up yet? Hmph!"
And she broke the cage in half, bit into the apple, and said, as the Nothing raced towards them all, "Getting married twelve years after the fact- shame on you!"
"What?" said poor Arthur weakly.
Next thing he knew, he was the New Architect. Although the old one did Her best to explain to him how everything worked, he interrupted Her and said, "So I'm really their kid?"
"Pssht, no," she scoffed. "They just said that to get you to marry them."
"Then…"
"Then what?"
"Then…" He sighed. "Never mind. So why did you blow up the Universe again?"
"Oh, because I wanted to commemorate my 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000th anniversay with the Old One by reminding him of the way we met," she said.
"In primordial Nothingness," he said affectionately as they fused into one being.
"Okay…" said the New Architect. "Happy… anniversary?"
"Fool!" the Architect laughed. "It's not my anniversary- it's April Fools!"
