Residents of the Disgaea Fanfiction Community: Hello! This is your Fabricated-Sky speaking, presenting you with her first Disgaea 3 fanfic and current project. It's an effort I sincerely hope you'll enjoy (and review), so please, sit back, relax, and enjoy the show~!

Oh, but before we begin...the disclaimers. I do not own Disgaea 3, or anyone else in the Disgaea universe. I don't even own the chapter titles (if you can figure out where they're from, you are most definitely amazing). Just a few characters and the plot. Now, read on!


"Ah, the Evil Academy of the Netherworld! Isn't it…splendid?"

The sarcasm was not lost to those who listened.

Scopes were adjusted, zooming in to peer through the windows. Throughout the chaotic array of buildings, students ran through the halls, and teachers gave lessons –or, more often, ignored their students brawling in the middle of the classroom. Someone threw a prinny through a bathroom window, and it fell for hundreds of feet before finally hitting the ground with a mighty explosion, taking out three students who were late for class.

"Move. I want to see."

"Wait your turn. I still haven't found the Dean."

Scopes kept adjusting and surveying the grounds. Some parts of the school didn't even resemble buildings –halls of ice, sanctuaries built entirely of books, a classroom in the heat of a volcano. How peculiar, how utterly inhuman!

"Do you even remember what the Dean looks like?"

"Short. White hair, red eyes. Generally wears glasses, an oversized red coat, white shorts, shoes and gloves. Preferred method of combat involves swordplay, freezing opponents, and the occasional explosion via demonic powers." A soft chuckle. "You seem to underestimate me."

"You know as well as I do what is at stake here. We can't afford mistakes." A pause to consult a pocketwatch; 11:15 AM –by Human standards, at least. Who knew how time flowed in this Netherworld?

"I'll let you know when I see the Overlord and his compatriots. How about you make yourself useful and check on the others?"

A silent nod, with no response. A hand rested on a gun's hilt, but it was hard not to keep a finger on the trigger. But this was for reconnaissance, not a battle, and an assassination attempt from here would be futile, at best.

And so the Evil Academy was placed unknowingly placed under surveillance. The reasons, for the time being, were unclear. But soon, all too soon…

No more demons. No more Evil Academy. Nothing.


Mao didn't mean to be staying out of the sight of the scopes. It just so happened that the windows in his room were drawn as he continued his research. The room was as much of a filthy sty as it ever was, with Mao at his desk surrounded by piles of manga, video games, and old boxes of takeout. The room was lit by one lamp and one TV, which was continuing its permanent marathon of old superhero movies.

"They didn't get my face right in that one. Too squat. And what's with that nose?"

Mao absently grabbed a soda can and tossed it over his shoulder. As he calculated, it hit Super Hero Aurum square in the jaw. "Quiet, before I decide to tamper with your vocal chords again."

"Go ahead. Then I'll just annoy you with the voice of a cackling little girl instead of this one. Or are you going to attempt surgery on a prinny again without blowing it up?"

Mao ignored the chatter, simply filing "Remind Aurum Who's in Charge Around Here" in his mental To-Do list. A rather long list, he had to admit.

Stretching out in his chair, Mao went over his papers. His current project was deciding where a demon really did stand in comparison to both the Hero Code upheld by Almaz and his own Demon Code of a few years prior. Exactly how dastardly, how evil, was too much for a demon? And what were the limits on "demonic goodness?" Did they mirror the limits on evil? Was there even a difference between the limits of Demon morality and Human morality?

The questions hadn't left him alone. Perhaps he was still trying to figure out why this "love" and "justice" and crap were so important. The words rang a chord in his heart now, he knew that. And in his mind, he knew what they had to mean, but when he tried to put the feelings into coherent thoughts and words…nothing.

Of course, as was his luck, Mao was interrupted once more as someone began to knock on his door. He peered over his pile of books and said, "Well? Whaddya' want?"

"Mao? You know what time it is!"

At the sound of Beryl's voice, Mao glanced at the clock. Or, he would've, had he been able to find it. "Time for you to get back to your blood drives and crap like that?"

There was a huff from the other side of the door. "Mao! This is important!"

A beat of silence passed. "Fine. Come in."

The door opened, and Rasberyl wandered in. She had to wade through the various piles, and she was barely higher than the manga pile behind Mao. Much to Beryl's disappointment –and Mao's amusement- she hadn't grown much over the past two years.

"Has anyone ever told you that it might be a good idea to clean in here?"

Mao focused his gaze on his paper, even though he was simply doodling on this page. "Let me think…you. Every single day."

"Persistence is one of the many marks of a badass." Beryl smiled, as she snuck past the piles and sat on Mao's desk. She raised an eyebrow at Mao's scribbles. "Hard at work, or hardly working?"

"Are you going to give me today's update, or not?" Mao growled, as he snatched the paper out of sight.

"Of course." As she did every day, Beryl leaned back and began to announce the day's events. "Let's see…we have only a twenty-percent attendance rate, and…"

As usual, this was the point where Mao zoned her out. Mao certainly didn't let her in at the same time every day to hear about how the students weren't attending classes, ignored all the safety rules, and made fools out of the teachers. All he had to do was step outside his room once in a red moon to see how well his school was doing. The only reason he let her in was…well, it was either that, or she'd complain about his lack of attention, and then she'd fill in the time not talking to him with blood drives, canned food drives, and every other drive she could possibly think of. Better to limit her delinquent chaos any way he could.

But then, he heard a familiar name mentioned. "Hold on. Repeat that last bit."

Raspberyl sighed, though she probably expected that Mao wasn't listening. "A few of our winged students disappeared from the school grounds in the middle of the day…as did Ms. Machiko. You know her daily flight around the school?"

Mao smirked. "Oh yes. Sometimes, I even wait with the students to catch her shirt when she throws it off at three o'clock."

There was something different about the glare Beryl shot him this time, but it passed before Mao could figure out what it was. "Right. Well, she disappeared in the middle of her flight. The other missing students were noticed to be gone around the same time."

Mao shrugged and placed his feet on the table, right next to where Beryl was sitting. "I think it's pretty obvious what happened, then. The students decided to join Ms. Machiko in her little…escapades."

"But they haven't come back yet, and school's out. That's what worries me."

Much as Mao wanted to pass it off as nothing –which it probably was- it meant Beryl would spend the next few days staring at him with those big magenta eyes of hers full of tears –or, more likely, fire. "Fine. Send Master Bigster out to look –those wings of his work as more than just a cape, right?"

Beryl managed to laugh at this, a smile back on her face. "I'm pretty sure. Want me to look too?"

"Beryl, you can't fly."

"Yes I can! See?" Beryl stood up on the desk, opening her wings. Unlike the rest of her, her wingspan had actually grown in the two years since Mao became Overlord. She began to flap them, but only managed to get a few inches off the desk.

"I've seen goblins fly better than that!" The Super Hero in the back piped up. "And goblins don't fly!"

He laughed, but only until Mao pegged him with a few hundred rapidly-tossed manga books to the head. That would teach him to keep his trap shut.

Beryl ignored them as she hopped back to the floor. "I'll go talk to Master Big Star, then. Anything else you need?"

He was tempted to make some inane retort, Mao shook his head. "That'll be good. Let me know what he finds."

With a nod, Beryl said her goodbyes and departed the room. As she shut the door, the room was bathed in darkness once more.

"You are horrible at taking advantage of opportunities," Aurum commented.

Mao shoved all Beryl-related thoughts aside, and spent the next few hours finding the most efficiently painful way to staple a Super Hero's mouth shut.


Night was closing, and Sapphire was finishing up her preparations for the night's dance. Not that she liked attending dances, but as Queen, it was expected of her to attend all courtly functions. At least Almaz was a surprisingly good dancer, as she discovered at their wedding.

No, the dancing itself wasn't bad. It was the hours of preparation with the dress, hair, and makeup. Sapphire had to force herself to hold still as one of the ladies in waiting, Miss Abernathy, convinced the queen's hair to accept the crown. Why did it always take so long to make it so the crown didn't fall out of her hair?

"Just about done ma'am," Miss Abernathy commented through a mouth full of hairpins. "Excited about tonight's dance?"

"Oh, as always," Sapphire replied with a sigh, as she began to swing her legs back and forth. "Share a few words and drinks with the stuffy nobles, ignore everyone staring at me when I dance…it'll be lovely."

"I'm sure this one will be better than the rest !" Miss Abernathy chirped. "Both you and King Almaz dance better each time!"

"It's not that," Sapphire argued, legs swinging faster –to Miss Abernathy's obvious disappointment, judging by the scowl on her weathered face. "It's just the same-old, same-old. Say, what if the dance was invaded by a throng of Chernobog? Or even some Eringer, that'd be exciting…"

Miss Abernathy tsk'ed and shook her head. "And put the royal heads at risk? Dear, you don't have to fight anymore. You're safe in your kingdom –and dare I say, that should be excitement enough." She put the finishing touched in the hair, and tentatively removed her hands. Amazingly, everything stayed in place. "Perfect! Now, for your necklace-"

"I've already got one." Sapphire stood up and went to her dressing table and opened the drawer, removing a necklace with a crescent moon in the center.

Miss Abernathy cooed at the sight. "Why my lady, it's splendid! Wherever did you find it? Was it your mother's, perhaps?"

"Nope." Sapphire sat back on the bed, so Miss Abernathy could help her with the clasp on the back. "It's actually a Lunar Orb I acquired in the Netherworld. It looks cute and helps protect against magical attacks –pretty nifty, huh?"

Miss Abernathy's fingers trembled at the mention of the Netherworld –or perhaps it was just Sapphire's imagination. "I see. Speaking of which, may I make a suggestion?"

"Go ahead. Just keep in mind that if I don't approve, I have permission to slice your throat with a pen knife." When Miss Abernathy froze, Sapphire simply laughed. "I'm kidding! I'd use a chainsaw to make sure I got the job done. Anyway, what were you going to say?"

It took a few moments for Miss Abernathy to speak again. "My queen, is it really wise to visit the Netherworld so often?"

"Of course." Sapphire answered without thinking, having given this explanation many times before –even though it was only part of the reason. "Our visits help build strong ties with the citizens of the Evil Academy and the surrounding areas. With their allegiance, not only do we have allies in times of war, but we suffer from far less demon attacks than before."

"But to visit so often…?"

With the Lunar Orb now clasped around her neck, Sapphire stood up and turned to Miss Abernathy. "It just so happens that demons aren't bad people. The Overlord and some of his staff are friends of ours –it is because of them that Almaz and I are here, together, to this day."

Now, Sapphire examined herself in the mirror; sparkling blue dress, silver crown, and lunar orb…she was set. Oh, how Almaz would glow upon seeing her! Granted, he always did, whether she was coated in dresses or blood. No wonder they were married.

"One last thing!" Miss Abernathy called as Sapphire slipped into her shoes. "Are you going to tell the king about…that yet?"

With a wink, Sapphire put a gloved finger to her lips. "I'm waiting until tonight, after the ball. Make sure no one's in the room when I tell him?"

"You shall have the utmost privacy, my queen."

For Sapphire, that was good enough. Finally prepared, Sapphire opened the door and strode to the ball…but she couldn't help but wishing she were heading to something more, regardless of the circumstances.


Both the Human World and the Netherworld gave way to night. Some were awake, busy with "research" and other duties. Some danced away the night, and some simply went to sleep, minds abuzz with the bliss of unconsciousness and the possibilities of tomorrow.

Mr. Champloo's mind, unlike others, was filled with the recipe of a new dish. Sautéed Cockatrice with Mushroom Sauce. In his mind, it sounded like an explosion of taste…but first, he had to try it out.

The hour was nearing midnight, and Champloo already had most of the ingredients. The cockatrice was dead –he hoped, considering how many times he punched it in the head already- the oven was hot, and the spices were all laid out. Now, all he needed were the mushrooms, and he kept a fresh batch out back, behind the Home Ec building.

But as he went to collect those mushrooms, Mr. Champloo saw something red blink out of the corner of his eye. He turned toward the shed, where a small red light flashed on the ground.

"Oho! And what might you be?" Champloo wandered over and crouched next to the light, unsure in the darkness what it was. Then he picked it up, and his blood froze in his veins –but it couldn't be, could it?

He lifted it up, a contraption shaped like a suitcase. No, it was a suitcase; just one with a red light on top. And…something metal with numbers illuminated in that crimson light, slowly counting down.

Yes, it could be, and it was. It was a bomb.