Chapter 1: Prologue
"Location: Somewhere In Maine, 1813"
A lone soldier watched from behind a hut as it happened. A regiment of troops in stovepipe-shaped hats marched forward in line, their smart red uniforms drenched by rain. Their colors flew proudly upon a flag above them, and their boots splashed as they marched through puddles in the cobbled street.
An officer barked an order, and the soldiers halted. Ahead of them was a purple haze, wafting out from what had once been the town square. If one squinted, they could see two red dots through the mist.
Out of the haze strode a figure, his face obscured by a black hood. A black cloak fluttered in the wind and rain behind him, draped over a well tailored suit. He gazed at the redcoats and held out his hand, seeming to be inviting them to fire.
The officer barked again, and the soldiers aimed their muskets. There was then a tremendous bang, like a clap of thunder, and the soldier flinched. For several moments, a thick cloud of white smoke hung over the street, blocking any view of the figure. There was not a sound, except for the rain and wind. But then, the figure strode from the cloud, a smirk appearing on his face. He flicked his hand, and a scythe of purple energy ripped through the front rank of the soldiers. The officer fell face-first into a puddle, and mud splashed over the second rank of troops. Frantically, the remaining troops tried to reload their muskets. The figure looked up at them, and his eyes began to glow.
The soldier closed his eyes. There was a loud screech, the sound of a few muffled cries, and then a great boom. When the soldier opened his eyes, he saw the remaining soldiers were, quite simply, no longer there. A single discarded shako laid on the ground where they had once been.
The figure gave a hollow laugh. But then, there was a yell, and he turned around. A young woman, dressed in a white gown, strode up to the figure, a sword in hand. The figure rolled his eyes and picked up the officer's sword, preparing to fight. The soldier watched in awe as they fought. Each thrust was blocked, and every strike was parried. Neither could gain the upper hand in this fight because it was as if no one wanted to, as if they had a bond or friendship and did not wish to break it.
But he, on the other hand, had just witnessed what the figure had done to his unit.
He strode ahead, bayonet in hand. With a mighty jab, he attacked. The figure never saw him coming. The soldier watched in grim satisfaction as his opponent fell, ignoring a cry from the woman. The figure's cloak fell from him, his eyes ceased to glow, and the soldier's eyes widened.
He had known this man. He had been his best friend.
The rain continued to fall upon the town. It fell upon a horrified friend, a sobbing lover, and the vanquished form of the Shadowed One.
"Location: Toontown, The World Of Disney, June 1st 2109"
"It's got a sad ending, I'll admit. The Shadowed One is unfortunately vanquished, the soldier ends up dying in battle, and the woman eventually writes this play, to warn others." the Man in the Black Suit said.
He slid the script onto a desk and grinned.
"Of course, it's all just a story." the Man in the Black Suit said.
Mickey picked up the script and skimmed through it, grinning.
"It's perfect! And you want me to direct it? I'm honored!" Mickey said.
The Man in the Black Suit nodded.
"Very good, Mr. Mouse. I'm assured that you will not disappoint. After all, who else could direct a multi-world play? And, I have a very good idea for a possible lead." the Man in the Black Suit said.
The Man in the Black Suit took out a photograph and placed it on the table. On the photograph was a small blue haired girl.
