A/N: With the way manga's been going, that short omake where Sinbad and Alibaba go dungeon diving together and, well, a whole myriad of heart wrenching problems with Sinbad no Bouken's recent arc, I sort of came up with this.

AKA, fourteen year old Sinbad takes Balbadd arc by storm.

Poor Alibaba. As if he didn't already have enough problems. Or wait, scratch that. Poor Ja'far. He's the one who'll be stuck babysitting two dungeon conquerors, a magi and a Fanalis... all of whom have this inborn habit of getting into loads of trouble.

For father, for mother, for the village, for this nation… To change the world… I CAN'T LOSE!

Bone crunched, blood splattered.

Drakon fell with a soft thud.

Sinbad drew his fist back, limbs trembling in exhaustion. He tried to control his breathing, but it came out ragged, while his heart beat so fast it almost felt like his chest would explode. He blinked the sweat away from his eyes, couldn't afford a moment to spare, Drakon might stand up again.

It wouldn't be the first time.

Sinbad wasn't sure if he could get one more hit in. Not with his body betraying him like this.

He gritted his teeth. No, knees, don't buckle, not yet.

One second, another.

Drakon didn't move.

Sinbad released a breath, picked up his discarded sword from the ground, his stance slackening. Straightened his shoulders, stood as tall as he could. Eyes drifted towards the blue giant—Baal, he'd said his name was. For a moment, he thought its eyes twinkled.

"The victory is mine," he said.

His voice came out stronger than he'd hoped. Good. Under the giant's scrutinizing eyes, shortage of confidence simply wouldn't do.

"I've witnessed it clearly. Sinbad. I approve you as my lord. Receive it with the sword in your hand. This is the power you yearn for!"

Wind swept through the dungeon, one that spoke of adventure and magic and change. The otherworldly prowess needed for to bring about the change in the war torn world. Sinbad's eyes widened as blue light illuminated the remnants of the ancient city around them, unable to quite contain the victorious smile that threatened to split his face in half. The light condensed until all that remained was an eight-pointed star engraved in the blade with magic, symbol of his newly acquired power.

A tremor shook the treasury. Followed by another, much stronger one.

Several pillars caved in, only barely missing Drakon's unconscious body thanks to Sinbad's quick reaction. The more seconds passed, the worse it seemed to get.

He glanced towards the giant, its expression unreadable.

"Is this something that's supposed to happen?"

"No."

Walls themselves shook with violent tremors, valuable treasures spilling over the paved surface. Sound akin to that of a building collapsing in on itself echoed. Sinbad had a feeling treasury wouldn't last long.

"Somebody is interfering!" the giant roared, voice shaking with venomous anger. "Closing my dungeon from the outside. Who dares—"

Words died on his tongue as blinding light filled the room. Sinbad gripped onto his sword tighter, squinted, but even so he could barely see anything more than his own arms. How do I fight like this? There has to be a way!

Baal's voice echoed through the dungeon again, this time more like a rumble of thunder that made his ears ring.

"There is no time, my lord. There will be a heavy price to pay, but I will save you—"

All sound disappeared.

Sinbad blinked once. Twice. Thrice. Body as though weightless floated through the air, while his eyes slowly adapted to the sudden change in light. He didn't feel like he was moving, but steadily, what looked like an enormous blue sphere only seemed to decrease in size.

This is the same as when I got in.

He wasn't falling, however. And there was no light to reach out for.

What in the world—

Invisible force spun him before he could finish the thought, and he found himself falling face first towards another source of light, different, stronger, pulling him in closer and faster and faster—

He landed on the hard ground with a groan. Bag filled to the brim with dungeon treasures dropped on his back, punching air straight out of his lungs. Oof!

Sinbad coughed. As if getting all beaten up courtesy of Drakon wasn't enough...

Shifting his elbows until he could lift off the ground just enough so he could breathe, he surveyed his surroundings. Lots of green, tall grass, underbrush, tree trunks… definitely a forest. That smell in the air… sea's gotta be close—

Two pairs of bare feet. And looking up higher, two pairs of eyes; one blue, one red. Both blinking down at him, twin expressions of shock.

The girl was taller, clearly older, with a bedrest slung over her tiny shoulders, but even so didn't look much older than Sinbad himself. The boy couldn't be older than ten, a metal flute hanging around his neck and a staff through his belt. They didn't scream.

Well, okay, then, maybe it's worth a shot.

Sinbad grinned, lifting one arm in a pathetic wave. "Ah, would you mind giving me a hand here? I'm a little… stuck."

The two stared.

-x-

Problems just seemed to be piling up.

Planning a robbery was difficult enough. Planning a robbery of a highly secured noble mansion while severely shorthanded even with several magical tools at disposal wasn't much easier.

They had to work around the guards, place right people in the right positions, strike at the exactly right moment and make sure there were no casualties left behind in their wake. And as if that wasn't enough, the worth of Fan had dropped over a half in the past week alone. At this rate, no matter how much money they stole, it would all be for nothing.

But we don't have much of a choice. If only they could see—

Only they wouldn't. No matter how many times Alibaba explained it, they wouldn't be able to see what the problem was until it smacked them in the face like a wet rag.

From the look of sheer panic on everybody's faces, it looked like the time had finally come.

"Now what do we do? These dumb scraps of paper can't even get us a handful of rice!"

"Just gotta steal more, brother! We hit 'em where it hurts!"

"Say whatever you want, but three robberies in a night is impossible! We don't have enough people to pull shit like that!"

"We recruit then! Hell knows there are dozens just waiting to join at the doorstep!"

The worst of all, Alibaba knew, was that this guy was right. Approaching first person in the street and merely suggesting them to join the Fog Troupe would be met with elation that was downright terrifying. They'd gained members throughout the past few weeks for less.

But that was no solution. At this rate, they'd come to the point where there was nothing left to steal, at least nothing worth taking.

Ahbmad, what in the world are you doing?

He had to do something. Kassim may have put him in charge of the Fog Troupe, but this was not just about the troupe anymore. Something had to be done, and quickly.

"That's enough!" Alibaba yelled, effectively silencing all the arguments, at least for the moment.

All eyes were on him now, which was just great.

He took a deep breath. Countless times, he'd tried to bring it to attention. But this was likely the last chance he'd get.

"Going after more nobles isn't going to fix anything. Even if we rob them clean, this situation isn't going to get any better. We have to approach this another way."

"What other way is there?" several members roared. Some appeared conflicted. Others retained their anger. Kassim glared.

No, you can't pull back now. They can tell it's hopeless. I just have to provide a solution. Any solution.

"We reach out to the islands," Alibaba said. No sooner were the words out there, the protests started, from the usual we don't want help and we have to handle this ourselves to the less standard what good will that do and they turned their back on us, loudest of which took none of those in consideration.

"Again with that shit?" Hassan snapped. "They cut themselves off from us. And now we're supposed to go to them and beg for help?"

Alibaba glanced over to Kassim, but he remained silent. Behind him, Zaynab looked as though she was giving the matter at least some thought.

He released a shuddering breath. At least somebody seemed willing to hear him out. He couldn't give up.

"We're not going to beg anybody for anything," he said. There. Maybe that will quell that ridiculous pride they held. "But you can see as clearly as I can that stealing the Fan from the nobles will only make things worse."

"Steal the gold and change it for the Fan, same thing we—"

"No!" Alibaba snapped. "The only gold we're able to find at this point are plates, dinner sets, lamps and the like. And those aren't going to feed the people."

Silence. Turns out, that was much scarier than direct opposition. Because they were listening. Month after month after month, only now were they actually listening.

He couldn't afford a single mistake. A single misstep. Or he might just lose them again.

"What we can do, however," Alibaba said, "is barter those for food rations."

Several oohs echoed from the gathered thieves.

Alibaba didn't think they understood, not really, that this was much easier said than done, because they needed people to go out there and negotiate, they needed what little funds they had to keep the people from starving and, most of all, they needed ships to transport them to the islands and then return with the food rations, something that would be almost impossible to pull right under the dock master's nose. And even with all of that, there was still the risk the islands may refuse to cooperate.

But at this point, they didn't have any other choice.

"Even if we do that," Kassim said, oh finally, "people will still be hungry here and now."

Alibaba refused to let his knees buckle in relief. Kassim was listening. Finally, he too was actually listening. There was no going back anymore. He just had to make him see.

"That is why tonight, we go after Lord Asiem. And we hit him with everything we've got."

Several people bristled. Many glared his way.

Kassim's eyes widened a fraction.

Alibaba ignored the shudder that shook his shoulders. He knew what he was proposing was bad—really bad. This was one of the things he'd been trying to talk people out of since the beginning. But here and now, this was the only option they had left and knowing who to hit and how hard was one thing he'd learned very, very well over the past six months.

"Going after the lesser nobles is all well and good, but if we target two in a night, we're dispersing our people too much," he went on. "Lord Asiem is a hoarder. We've let him off the hook because his manor is too well guarded, but if we rally the entire troupe, we have a chance. Do you understand? This is the opportunity we've been waiting for!"

A wave of energy spread through the group as whispers broke out. Kasim's glare only intensified, but he waited in silence.

A girl raised her hand tentatively. "What about the spies?"

"Yea!" the rest of the mob joined in quickly. "Somebody has been ratting us out!"

Alibaba took a deep breath. "There's not much we can do about that. But whoever it is, we know they aren't directly involved with us. Our best chance to get Lord Asiem unprepared is to keep the plans under wraps until it's too late to mobilize the guards. That means, nothing we plan out leaves this room until tonight."

"Or," Kassim proposed, "we spread rumors. If they think we're going to attack several places at once, it is them who'll be far too dispersed to handle the real threat."

Alibaba had to focus not to fall in relief. You understand it! Kassim, you—

"Oi, did you hear it? This can be done! Whoever spreads the rumors around, make sure they're contradictory. Can't have our targets know who we're gonna hit!"

Cheers broke through the crowd.

Alibaba let out a tired sigh. When it came down to it, no matter what he tried, Kassim would always be the true leader here. Alibaba was just a figurehead. A puppet. And that suited him just fine. Or at least he'd thought so. They were never going to be able to see eye-to-eye, he was well aware, but even as a figurehead, there were things he could do. Improve lives of people here through any means available, that was what he swore he'd do.

Except it felt like this was only delaying the inevitable.

"Kassim," he called. "About—"

"We'll discuss the islands later," his foster brother replied dismissively. "We have a robbery to plan."

Alibaba chose to pretend that the twinkle he saw in his eyes wasn't that of sadistic malice.

It was easier that way. Better for everybody as well.

"Yeah."

The room hadn't even begun emptying when the door slammed open, several raggedly dressed people breaking inside, covered in sweat.

"Alibaba, Kassim! We have a problem!"

Eh? What?

"Come quickly!"

As it turned out when they reached the port, problem was a bit of an understatement.

Among the numerous beaten and bruised men lying on the ground, among which Alibaba recognized several of the Fog Troupe's newer members, stood a boy, long purple hair tied behind his back, white clothes splattered with dry blood and his fists held out, sweat pouring down his face. Beside him, a girl, calm and composed, red eyes widening a fraction as they landed on Alibaba. And behind them—

"Alibaba!"

He didn't have the time to think. Just look up, reach out, catch—

"A-A-Aladdin?!"

This can't be.

Small arms wrapped tightly around his neck, locks of blue hair tickling his cheek.

"I knew that if I came here I'd be able to see you again!" the boy exclaimed, brilliant smile lighting up his young face as Alibaba placed him on the ground. From above him, the flying carpet wrapped until it was once again just simply a turban, and Alibaba stared, because just how in the world did he miss it?

"It's been a while, hasn't it, Alibaba?"

"Y-yeah." Too long. I missed you. What are you doing here? But now wasn't the time for any of that.

Alibaba glanced back towards where Morgiana now had an undeniable hint of a smile on her face, the boy beside her glancing between her and Aladdin before finally relaxing his stance—and behind him and Morgiana, a little girl, no older than seven, with tear streaked cheeks and a small tattered bag clutched to her chest. Dressed far too well to be a child from the slums.

"Aladdin, what happened here?"

His little friend looked decidedly less happy.

"We were just trying to help," he said. "Those uncles tried to take her bag and she started crying. Sin tried asking what's wrong but then they tried to take Mor's bedrest and somehow everybody ended up getting involved…" he looked away sheepishly.

Alibaba shuddered. Nobody in their right mind would try to take anything from Morgiana, but then again, they didn't see her running up the walls and kicking through rocks like it was no big deal. Even now, the girl looked none worse for the wear, while many of the battered down men were looking at her like an abomination of some sort. Ouch.

"Come on," Alibaba said, placing his hand on the top of the boy's turban and looking at Morgiana. "We need a place to talk."

She nodded, stepping over the men she'd knocked out without even a glance. The strange purple haired boy glanced at Alibaba as if in search of approval. At the briefest of nods, he shrugged and followed, tugging the tiny girl along.

Alibaba took in sight of the port, numerous men beaten around and double the spectators that had gathered, wincing at the sight of one of the guards with a dark bruise on his cheek and blood running down his chin, until his eyes found Kassim. Oh, he was going to regret this later, that he was so completely sure of, but these were Aladdin and Morgiana and he couldn't just leave them, especially not after something like this.

"I trust you to handle this, okay?"

"Eh, wha—"

"Thanks a lot, Kassim! Come on, Aladdin, Morgiana! Follow me!"

"So there's no way for me to catch a ship from here to Parthevia, huh?" Sinbad mused.

His hands closed around the wooden mug and he glanced down at its contents, his reflection staring back. Across him, Alibaba and Aladdin shared a look, before both focused back on Sinbad. Beside him, Morgiana tensed, likely worried herself.

In all honesty, that wasn't as much of a surprise as he'd expected it would be. She'd mentioned earlier that she'd heard that from Balbadd, you could catch a ship anywhere, but he found that a little hard to believe. Alibaba quickly dissuaded them from those ideas.

"Trade with Parthevia has been under strains long before things got this bad," he admitted, head bowed down and his voice laced with an emotion that sounded an awful lot like guilt. "Currently, the only ships that leave from here are headed to Kou and its allied countries. If you really need to get to Parthevia quickly, the best option would be to try your luck through Aktia. Even so, it would probably take a month at the least."

A month, huh?

A month too long. Ever since he'd made his way out of the dungeon, he'd been smacked in the face with surprise after another. Aladdin had been elated to find out he'd just run into another Dungeon Clearer, as if dungeons were something every other person had a chance to visit, and neither he nor Morgiana thought it to be particularly odd that he'd landed back on the wrong continent. As a matter of fact, Aladdin himself claimed he'd went through the same ordeal when he'd landed in the middle of the Kouga territory.

Are dungeons really so widespread in the world that even a kid like Aladdin sees them as nothing out of the ordinary?

The notion seemed ridiculous. Reim and Parthevia had been fighting over Baal's dungeon enough to appoint entire armies with the sole purpose to clear them. People claimed this was the first time such a structure had appeared in the world. Yet apparently having a metal vessel, as Aladdin had called it, seemed like nothing out of the ordinary in Balbadd.

Well, granted, Aladdin himself wasn't from Balbadd, but the friend he'd been out to find certainly was. And Alibaba was, according to Aladdin at least, a Dungeon Capturer himself.

"I'm going to look into it," Alibaba said. "Supposedly, there are still some ships on the islands smuggling their goods to Sindria. If we could negotiate with them, we could get you on their ships. From Sindria you can catch a ship to Parthevia easily, though it'd take longer. It's a month sailing just to get there." He gave Morgiana an important look. "You could probably find a ship heading for the Dark Continent, too."

The girl nodded, but from the look in her eyes, it didn't look like she was simply going to accept that without question.

Alibaba noticed none of it.

"Aladdin, you'd probably be better off going with them, too," he said. "I'm sorry. I know I promised that we'll go adventuring together, but…" he hesitated, fists clenched tight. "Balbadd right now… isn't a safe place to stay."

The tiny little smile that had been present on Aladdin's face from the moment he'd first seen his friend fell. "Is it because the guards are just as likely to be mean as thugs?"

Alibaba winced. "Well, there's that too. But really, this…" He shook his head.

All the drinks they'd ordered remained on the table, untouched.

Aladdin and Morgiana seemed to be willing to wait for as long as it took for him to get his thoughts in order. Sinbad was a little less patient.

"It's because Balbadd is in the middle of an internal strife, isn't it?" he asked. At the slight widening of eyes, he continued, "On the way here, we ran into some writings on the walls. Down with the monarchy, they said. And it's bad enough that grown men would try to steal bits of food from a lost child… Even if she was a noble, that was going too far."

"Yeah, things have been getting out of hand. Especially lately." Alibaba swallowed thickly, before looking up to face Sinbad. "You… Aladdin mentioned you conquered a dungeon, right? Try not to use any of the coins you got. Most people here can't accept it anyway."

"What do you mean?"

Alibaba pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and laid it out on the table between them. "This is a Fan. It's what we use to pay for things such as food and service, here. Well, it's practically worthless compared to even copper coins, but chances are you'll get in a lot of trouble if you use anything else. Though trying to trade silver and gold coins for these is likely to get you in even more trouble."

Sinbad blanched. "Then what do we do? We don't have anything else."

Realizing nobody else seemed to understand the problem, he glanced at Aladdin, then Morgiana.

The boy grinned. "Well, I don't think I have any coins on me anyway."

"It's okay," Morgiana said. "I have several. We can share."

"Oh, really? Thanks, Mor!"

Both seemed utterly oblivious to the two wide-eyed pairs of eyes watching them.

Alibaba's mouth open and closed several times, before he found his voice. "Wait, Aladdin. Did you just say that you made your way across the desert without even a single coin on your person?"

"Yeah! Well, those slave trades kind of gave me a ride half way… and Baba was really kind, the people from the Kouga village never asked for anything…"

"Slave traders?"

"Ah, I didn't mention that? Mor really helped me with that one… Thanks again, Mor."

The girl tilted her head. "It was no problem."

Alibaba paled even while amusement and an odd sense of pride replaced Sinbad's initial shock. He chuckled. "Eh, seems like you've had plenty of adventures already."

The boy grinned sheepishly. "I guess. But I'm really happy, now that we're here together. I was really hoping we could… well…" he trailed off, the wistful look he directed at Alibaba making it perfectly clear what exactly he'd wanted to say. And from the slump of his shoulders, Alibaba understood it perfectly.

Why does he look so… guilt ridden?

Sinbad cleared his throat. "Well, as things are, we can't really go anywhere. Alibaba, is there a way we can earn some Fan here? For example guarding caravans or maybe fishing? I know I don't look it, but I'm good at both of those!"

Aladdin nodded urgently. "Yeah, is there? I never did any of that, but I wonder if I can be of any help."

"Don't worry!" Sinbad pulled the boy in a one-armed hug. "I have plenty of experience with the sea. I'll teach you all the tricks you need to know!"

Morgiana's eyes twinkled. "I… um… if… if you're willing to have me, I'd like to offer my assistance as well," she mumbled. Blinked, when Aladdin stood up urgently enough to knock his chair over and grasped both her hands, brilliant smile lighting up his face.

"Of course! Mor is amazing! With your help, I'm sure we'll be able to catch loads of fish!"

Her lips tugged into a tiny smile, cheeks dusted in rosy color.

Sinbad glanced at Alibaba, whose jaw had at some point decided to drop all the way to the floor. "You guys are planning to stay?" he stuttered.

"Well, naturally. Does it look like we have anywhere else to go?" Sinbad scratched the top of his nose, planting both his elbows on the table. Why would he be so surprised about that? Morgiana alone was capable of taking care of them all. Then again, Alibaba didn't see her kick all those greedy men around. Well, even so, Aladdin had made it all the way across the desert on his own, too and Sinbad was pretty confident in his skills to stay in one piece no matter what happened. He had just conquered a dungeon after all, and everybody's reactions, while a little lackluster, still made it clear that wasn't a feat looked down upon.

He's worried. Rightfully so.

Well, with the city in dire state as it was, he couldn't blame him, but they were all perfectly capable of taking care of themselves.

Alibaba looked from one to another uncertainly. "Ah, well, that's true, but—"

"Besides, we're all pretty resourceful. We'll blend in here no problem, isn't that right, Aladdin, Morgiana?"

"Yeah!"

Sinbad made a sweeping gesture and wiggled his eyebrows as if to ask, well, what do you say?

Alibaba hung his head and gritted his teeth. Barely audible, he mumbled, "Fine."

What could go wrong, anyway?