Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts or any of the Characters it borrows from other sources, which is quite a lot. Same goes for the new Disney and Square-Enix characters seen here.

Kingdom Hearts: Evil's Call

- - -

The emerald green fire that was herald to unholy magics cocealced, tearing what would be mistaken by the naked eye as a dark rainbow-colored gap in the air. Before the two beings responsible for such a rift, the makeshift gateway blossomed brightly against the backdrop of eternal shadow a select few knew to be called 'The World That Never Was'.

Pete swallowed his tongue and for a moment wished it would stay gone. It was what had gotten him into this trouble in the first place, after all. Bad enough he had to get used to living here for the time being. He couldn't lie to himself; it was this in-between world that was making him shiver. Something about it made his black fur stand on end and his pocket-strewn outfit slack.

That wasn't bad enough. Now he had to go and slip up around his partner... and she didn't shiver. Didn't tolerate mistakes of any sort. Kinda unbalanced now that he thought about it some more, but what could he do? Pete always thought of himself as a tough, brawny guy... but Maleficent's voice somehow always turned him into a cowering marshmellow. She had all the power- the green fires were practically her calling card as much as that little pet crow she hung around with.

'You sure about this, Mal?'

She flinched. 'You are the one who mentioned this power source, fool.'

'Yeah, but I, uh, I don't know if he'd, er, really be in the mood to help us, ya know? He's kinda... well...'

Another twitch of thunderous irritance had him scrambling to hide behind a lampost here in the Dark City. 'No matter. Regardless of his power, he shall soon learn who is his superior. If we must settle for his Heartless to keep him under control, so be it!'

So nervous. Oooh, this was even worse than that time with that Hades guy. Why couldn't they just call him up instead? Bite my tongue, bite my tongue, bite my- YOW!

The portal swelled, revealing a blend of psychadelic colors Pete had gotten sick of long ago. Gotta still be grateful to her for gettin' me outta there anyway. Still, I'm not sure if that Cleft O' Dimensions place is any worse than here...

She'd done it. Mal had opened a portal to his old prison! What would have been a brief reverie of the events regarding his release was interrupted when she fixed him with a distracted, but unmistakably cross glare. 'Well?"

'W-well w-hat?' Pete stammered.

'You know his name, don't you?'

Pete's jaw hung. He did know it... sort of... but it had been so long... 'There were two other guys in 'dere with me who I got to know. One was this weirdo weilding a buncha swords, the other was-'

'Then CALL OUT HIS NAME! USELESS IMBECILE!'

Pete thought hard. 'Oh yeah. It's uh, Exodude? No, no... Exodus!'

'Louder!'

'Exodus! We release you from your prison! Yeahhh!'

He hoped anxiously that that had done it, that those were the right words he was supposed to say. The huge portal Mal had made certainly reacted, the rainbow colors now fading to something more befitting the blackness of space, punctuated by only a handful of stars, the green fires now flaring up into incandescence, as-

He didn't see or feel an explosion. Something just threw Maleficent back like a giant invisible hand, within two meters of impacting a brick wall before she stopped herself in midair. Her regularly narrowed eyes were now wide as fists.

A marine blue gauntlet was gripping the edge of her portal, which Pete would have bet had something to do with the way the emerald green fires had gone away, to be replaced by bright blue ones that actually looked less sinister. The gauntlet was connected to an arm similarly-garbed. The arm was connected to a full set of blue armor backdropped by a regal red cape that slowly, carefully slipped through the gate and onto the pavement with a weak groan like that of a ghost.

Pete and Diablo stared. Neither knew what to do. Both the blue-armored figure and Maleficent lay on one knee each, both gasping heavily. Had the effort of opening the dimensional gate and releasing the prisoner really depleted both of their powers so much?

Pete frowned. No way. Maleficent was in great shape when she got me outta there. Well... good enough shape to yell at me anyways. Oooh, what now?

His dog ears- a sole advantage he could claim over this kind of company were picking up some rustling, but he didn't dare turn around now. Especially when he knew it had to be his little battalion of Heartless summoned by their master's anxiety. That happened a lot lately. Who knows? Maybe seein' my Heartless squads might let this guy know who's in charge around here!

Then, to his shock, the blue-armored guy stood, strong in the face of whatever weakness his ghostly voice betrayed before. 'I am the Dark Mage Exodus', the guy proclaimed, still sounding as muffled and grim from behind his helmet as Pete remembered him. 'I am... admittedly grateful to be freed at last from the Cleft of Dimensions, witch.'

Either insulted by the title or just looking to prove dominance as Pete was, Mal stood. 'Excellent. Then I'm sure you'll understand this, Exodus: I set you free for the same reason I freed Pete here. Your great power will assist us in the domination of all the worlds out there!'

Exodus was looking at one of the Behemoth Heartless now, as if truly fascinated by it, as he spoke: 'I have no need for compliments, witch. Nor do I have any need for accomplices in my vengence.'

The other major power's eyes grew huge again. 'You spurn my-our- offer after I free you from an eternity in dimensional limbo?!'

The dark blue helmet regarded both of them with it's impossible-to-guess gaze. 'If your freeing this buffoon from the Cleft first is any indication, you are a powerful fool, Maleficent. Why would I hitch myself to such a pathetic spectacle?'

Pete cringed and hid again and was not suprised to see Diablo hiding in the same spot. Ooooh now he's gone and made her angry! We'll be lucky to be still in one piece when they're done with each other! Why did I even mention this guy's power in the first place? He's nothin' but bad, bad, BAD news!

He'd been right. Apparently finished with words, both dark mage and dark magess were now attempting to bully the other in threatening displays of magical power. Pete closed his eyes and covered both ears, expecting to feel the area around them blown apart at any moment...

'Enough' came Exodus' voice.

Wavering between hostility and confusion, the other black magic user also halted. 'You have seen the futility of opposing my power?'

A none-too-nice laugh issued from the helmet. 'Just the opposite. Those minions of yours... they are unlike any creature I've seen before. I find it strange that they would follow a fool such as Pete that lacks any mental domination powers.'

Pete's ears perked up. Well, at least they weren't at each other's throats any more, even if it did come at the expense of them insulting his intelligence yet again. Why couldn't they just let him be?

Maleficent smirked, content to have found something they could use as leverage. 'They are called the Heartless. Stupid, simple, mindless beings of darkness... but countless and obedient to us. If you wish to learn more...'

Another creepy, helmet-muffled laugh from the Dark Mage that made Pete's fur stand on end. 'Then I'll spare you for now. I do have all the time in the world to exact my private vengence after all... a few more worlds under my boot is a mere bonus.'

Cautiously, Pete and Diablo finally peered over their cover to see both standing on the concrete instead of floating in a nimbus of blue or green hellfire. Pete exhaled. So this guy's coming with us huh...? Well, wish I'd got to know him a bit better back when the King put me in that Cleft O' Dimensions. Then maybe he'd treat me better than Maleficent does!

Content with a simple handshake to signify an alliance, Maleficent was quick to pull her lackey around the corner, presumably out of the mage's hearing range. 'Most impressive, that power of his', she whispered silkily in his ear, far too close for comfort so that she had to hover. 'Even his Heartless would make a prize catch.'

It took a moment for those words, so casually uttered, to register with him. 'You think he's stronger than...?'

She scowled, clearly unwilling to face the truth, never mind admit it openly. 'Possible, though unlikely.'

'So then we're gonna-'

'Yes. Until then, keep him off-guard. We shall treat him as an honored guest here in our citadel. I shall let you know when he reaches the end of his usefulness.'

In Pete's head, a helmet-muffled laugh echoed. Suddenly he was feeling more than just a little queasy about this.

- - -

Judge Claude-Frollo stared out from his balcony. Down there on the myriad of streets below one could see thousands of people going about their daily lives in Notre-Dame. Travellers, merchants, carpenters, preachers, peasantry-

And Traitors.

He couldn't stop himself. The more rational part of his mind knew, of course, that the chances of spotting her amidst this rabble at this hour of the day were practically nonexistent. Yet his stern gaze continued to shift his aging eyes here and there, parting the crowd, looking for a flash of red silk tunic and fiery brown hair...

'My Lord Frollo!'

The mustachioed lieutenant's words snapped him out of it. Shameful that any should catch him in such a state as this, to take even the slightest chance that the man would notice the rate his heart was suddenly beating against his ribcage like a living bomb.

Damn that wretched girl. If these fires of unholy passion welling up inside were not witchcraft, Frollo did not know what was. 'Yes, thank you Lieutenant. See the Captain in, I'm sure he is weary from such a long journey from the capital.'

He had made the right decision, he told himself. By summoning one of the kingdom's military captains in service to the Crown and one from the Church, he had himself the best of both worlds in means with which to quash the Gypsy problem. Both captains had seen the face of war and carved out names for themselves in the blood of the nation's many enemies. A tight little smile wizened his features into something like kindness. Yes. The traitors would be completely out of their league here.

Genuinely interested, he slowly sized up the second captain he had requested, the one sent from the Church. A handsome, beardless man, younger even than the spry Captain Phoebus but wearing the same regal gold armor. He had wavy brown hair curled into a crisp bun over his scalp, and looked possessed of a limberness that no doubt translated well to 'non-regulation' combat fought off of major battlefields.

He was also pleased when the young man gave him the first bow. 'Captain Hyral, reporting for duty, m'lord Claude-Frollo. The high priest sends his condolences.'

What?! How could he possibly know about- Wait. Simply a matter of courteousy. Perhaps the high priest had caught wind of Frollo's troubles, but not the details. Yes. That would fit. 'And you may return him my blessing, Captain. But only once your job here is complete.'

The young captain winced, looking out from the very same balcony Frollo had used to introduce himself to Phoebus. 'Your letter was urgent, but a bit lacking in detail. What exactly are the 'heretics' of which you speak?'

Frollo simply waved a hand out towards the crowd. Captain Hyral stared down at the townsfolk milling around the Palace of Justice, not quite sure what to make of that. 'All of them?'

The judge scowled. 'All of them, and none of them. That is the elusive nature of the gypsy, spreading their heresy from behind a curtain of innocents... it is a disease that normal measures cannot check.'

Still skeptical as Phoebus had been, Hyral raised his brow. 'The priests are no help?'

Claude-Frollo gave a mirthless chuckle at this. 'If anything, the Archdeacon is a greater asset to the Gypsies than to us. They abuse the mercies of the Church to their advantage at the same time they spread the words to destabilize it. Simple preaching is no longer enough. Force must be applied, or everything we've built here will come unto ruin.'

Eyeing one piece of tile on the balcony that someone had pulled out and jammed back in the reverse position, Hyral shrugged. 'What is your command, my lord?'

I like this one, he decided outright. He asks fewer questions than Phoebus. 'Captain Hyral, my men are at your disposal. Search every corner of this city. You are free to check any building, any park, any closet or sewer... You are free to use any methods that you deem necessary... but I want to see at least 50 Gypsies on the gallows in front of the cathedral in a month's time. Do you understand?'

The Captain was still staring out at the crowd milling in the streets, a slight nod of his head the only sign he'd heard. The rest of his body betrayed no emotion. 'Absolutely.'

Feeling that he would be safe in going a bit further with this one, Frollo pressed both his aged hands together carefully, wary to let slip too much of his secret. 'In particular, there is a... certain young woman who I believe is a rallying point for their resistance. Capture her, and I will throw all of my considerable support behind your immediate promotion to Colonel, Captain Hyral.'

The offer made Hyral's eyes flicker. 'This wouldn't have anything to do with the spectacle I've heard took place at your annual Festival of Fools a week ago, would it?'

Frollo made a grinding noise in his throat that more than confirmed the Captain's suspicions. 'Indeed. Her name is Esmerelda. Also of particular note is her accomplice, an odd-looking boy who helped her to escape justice there. A boy even younger than you, named Sora, who has also brought death upon himself by aiding the gypsy witch.'

'It seems you have everything all set up for me', Hyral noted blankly. 'Two major fugitives here in Paris. But unforutnatley, I must add a third mark to that list.' Prodding at the reversed stone with interest, he shrugged. 'It's the high priest's orders.'

'Of course', Frollo replied amiably, lifting the stone and discovering to his private horror that a trio of termites had already repopulated the space underneath. Legion are the aspects of the devil... 'God's will is always of greater importance than my own personal trivialities.'

The young Captain gave a long, regretful sigh. Perhaps he did not approve of this special command? 'I am, Judge Claude-Frollo, also under orders to scour Paris for the Church's number one heretic, one Ramza Beoluve. And I am authorized to use the Church's new, erm, 'soldiers' in pursuing him.'

That rocked Frollo. The old high priest, finally allowing the use of their secret collection of Dusk, Bishop and Sorcerer Nobodies? 'This Beoluve whelp must truly be a grave threat to the Church if His grace is willing to go that far', he panted awkwardly.

'Oh, he is', Hyral commented wisely, handing him a scroll with the heretic's picture and details on his crimes. 'Officially wanted for the murder of Heresy Examiner Zalmo Lusnada and Cardinal Draclau. He's about the same age as I, short blond hair and blue chain mail. His blade is one to be feared. Rumor has it he found refuge here.'

'So it is that the fell and the wicked conspire together, and that their evil spread manifold from infernal council', Frollo quoted the psalm absently, waving his ring-encrusted hand before slowly tightening it into a fist grasping at the spectres of the three accused, crushing the scroll. 'All of our enemies gathered in one convenient place... Esmerelda... Ramza Beoluve... Sora... the verdict is clear. Summon your Nobodies and my soldiers then, Captain Delita Hyral. Destroy the traitors and heretics. Let them taste the fires of hell no matter the cost. I'm counting on you.'

'As you wish... my lord.'

- - -

The feel of the night wind drifting through one's wings was often a pleasant sensation. Goliath felt it a pity that moments where flights born purely out of enjoyment were so rare. After 1000 years suspended in stone, one could hardly blame him for wishing to stretch his powerful set as much as possible.

Not that he could easily confess such indulgences to his clan, even were he a forest apart from the grim serious leadership they expected from him, and would always be willing to follow. That was what the time-displaced Manhattan Clan needed now- the titan from legends small children spoke of in frightened whispers, not a Gargoyle with a secret dalliance for a certain female human.

Swooping closer to their destination, a fear they were already too late crept up into his muscular chest. The curved dome window sitting atop the museum's highest floor had not been shattered, for that would have set off mechanical devices the humans called alarms that served in place of a siege bell, or else the sound would have reached the human guards leading to the same result. Rather, the window had been freshly cauterized with a sizable hole in the top, no doubt owing to another human mechanical device far less common...

Goliath's brow thickened into pale shadow. He couldn't even wait for it to get fully dark before sending in the Steel Clan. Trying to frame us again, perhaps?

Well, no matter. The clan's smallest hatchling, Lexington, had experience in human technology, and he had already stated that the alarm systems were 'cheap' and limited to what he called 'manual switches' and 'breach sensitive detection'. So long as no windows or locks were forcefully shattered, they were safe in placing these technological mockeries of true Gargoyles squarely where they belonged- beneath claw and fang.

'Stay close', he commanded even as the five descended into the 3rd floor lobby. 'We cannot injure the humans if they find us.'

Just as quickly, he saw that was uneccessary- his clan knew the ropes. The many and varied conflicts of the modern world had forged them to the demands of the night's protectors, perhaps in some ways better than he or their eldest, Hudson. They would make him proud.

He caught the flash of moonlight upon stainless metal first. Three beats after, the entire galley exploded into a grand melee of confusion. Goliath counted at least five of the red-eyed flying machines to match them and thought that strange even as he ripped his own target's head from it's shoulders, trailing wires and sparks behind it. There is something amiss here...

Surely David Xanatos knew they would resist his aquiring such a valuble treasure. It was, in fact, uncharacteristically blunt of him to come after it so soon after it's arrival in Manhattan without taking precautions regarding evidence against him. Elisa Maza had tried to explain to him the purpose of an odd type of human in the modern world called a 'lawyer' without a great deal of success. Whatever they did, their primary enemy had always seemed confident they would save him from any incident the detective successfully tied him to.

Or, he mused, perhaps Xanatos' desire for the mystical Eye of Braig was so great that he had abandoned all his usual subtlies.

A diversionary ambush, he deduced as Lexington tore apart another one from the chest outward. The mainstay of the clan lay in wait here for us, while the rest went after the Eye. The machine-slaves they had shredded so often held no sense of clan loyalty; sacrificing one or more of their own was a simple matter. It was a reasonable tactic that could work. It had worked. And they had fallen for it.

Not this time, he resolved, charging past the remains of the Steel Clan and into the atrium. As expected, two more of Xanatos' machines had just finished delicatley cutting their way through the case with familiar beams of concentrated heat and lifting the prized jewel out. In the far corner, he spotted two human guards- unconcious? Dead?

Again, the rival clan showed their willingness to sacrifice one another to complete the mission- one flew for an exit with the Eye of Braig in tow, while it's partner opened up on Goliath with a series of strong shoulder-lunges... but even as he felt the situation spiral out of control, Hudson's dagger rammed the escapee through it's chest plating as he flipped from the lip of the doorway, forcing it back, damaged but not defeated.

The bullet that punctuated the hole, however, may have done that instead, tilting the mechanical gargoyle onto the blue carpet. The alarms, however, were set off by the shattering mural window even faster than that. Neither Gargoyle was unprepared for the shrill blasts of sound that resulted, but it nonetheless threw them off balance.

Defiantly springing back to his footclaws, Goliath stared. The last of the Steel Clan had been decapitated, and not by him. Three humans in black suits stood near the broken window that was their entry point.

Human thieves also? Looking a bit closer with Gargoyle-level vision, it became clear this was not the only trait this trio shared. Each wore their silver hair in a different fashion that was the easiest means of telling them apart, and their glittery, emerald green eyes reflected a violent cruelty he thought he'd seen the last of with the Pack. 'Sorry', the tall one in the center who seemed to be the leader boasted, 'but the Eye isn't going anywhere except with us. Nice shot, Yazoo. Loz? If you would be so kind...'

'Goli-AGHK!'

His eyes could barely track the movements of the larger one called Loz even with Hudson's attempted warning as he snatched the Eye of Braig from the dead robot, some kind of blue afterimage the only indication of his speed. Trying to think at the same pace, he sounded a war cry while lunging for the long-haired one's guns- a modern weapon the clan had quickly learned to fear.

The leader intercepted his rush while the big one jammed some kind of mechanical claw into Hudson's belly. Few humans could have intercepted the wicked claws that were a part of Goliath's legend with nothing but an exotic-looking katana. This strange silver-haired human was one of them.

More machines, he growled to himself mid-battle about the big one's claw, there is no limit to the extent of artificial weapons.

He would not have much longer to enjoy such a luxury- the one called Yazoo was slowly aiming his combination sword-gun weapons, ready to take a shot...

Brooklyn was fast enough to knock the barrel aside and engage him. At the other end, the rest of his clan had taken the place of Hudson, who had fallen to the carpet with his belly smoking.

Anger over that quickened his pace. 'Not', he panted mid-exchange, '-human?'

'In a way', the leader replied furiously between breaths- this had to be draining his strength as well- '-on the other hand, three boys just trying to get their Mother back- that's very human isn't it?'

Goliath scowled and batted the young man into a wall. 'No human moves as quickly as you three. More of Xanatos' vile experiments?'

The leader spat. 'Us, pawns of some rich old man? I'm hurt. Once the Eye restores Mother, perhaps we'll pay him a visit first.' The sadistic grin on his face at that point destroyed any remaining suspicions Goliath had that these men were in league with Xanatos. Who, then? What sorcery created them? This 'Mother' of which they speak with such reverence?

No answers came. The leader's katana was enough to keep him busy so that he could barely acknowledge Brooklyn dodging Yazoo's swords, or Lexington screeching from a sizzling near-miss by Loz's claw. Have to end this! Any second now, the human guards will investigate the noise! He wouldn't put it past these three for slaying innocents for the crime of being in the wrong place at the right time and -worse- he wasn't sure if he' would be able to save them if they were. It was hard enough just keeping his own hide intact.

Then what looked like his chance came- the leader cut a bit too far with his blade trying to nick a wing, and Goliath slammed him hard before he could get it back into the en guard position, forcing him onto the floor in a crush of brute strength. 'We will have... the Eye... and the Keyblade...', he grunted out from under the tremendous strain of holding the Gargoyle's muscle back, 'return Mother... to us!'

'Kadaj! Call the Heartless!'

His last burst of strength wasn't quite enough, but a gunshot from Yazoo was, creasing his great wings somewhere near the top and eliciting a searing pain from the line outward. Ignoring it, he tossed the leader across the way towards the big one, knocking him flat and buying Lex enough time to grab the jewel.

In a flash, the battle had turned in their favor. Yes, the human guards had arrived and started shooting, but the clan could retreat with the Eye in tow, carrying their wounded. The three humans did the same under the cover of Kadaj deflecting bullets sent the trio's way.

Yet even during this he made the time to shoot the Manhattan Clan a parting glare that conveyed everything he needed to- the battle was over, the war wasn't. The Eye of Braig and the Keyblade would be theirs eventually. And Goliath and Xanatos would both die by his swordsmanship then.

The fury in the clan leader's own face yielded no fear, only resolute fury as they departed. He would never be slain by a sword-wielding human, however enhanced, if he could help it. 'We shall see, Kadaj, or whomever you are. We shall see.'

- - -