Whoa, sorry about the wait people. I got a little busy. And distracted. Anyway, here's Chapter 29. Or 2. Whatever. Anyway, did you guys check out Chu10's art of EJ? Do it now. And I take it Simba won the 'Best Hero' poll. So I'm going to put up another one, if you want to go check that out. Anyway, we have reached the TLK1/MHV timeline. We are now in familiar territory, so I hope you guys enjoy what is coming up. Great to see that you guys liked that Nala and Weaver are brother and sister. I've held onto that secret for more than a year.

Guest: Cheers. Scar is the gentlemanly villain, isn't he? Well at times at least. And yeah, that was why Weaver and Nala were so close, but not romantically. Brother and Sister.

Vitani825: Ah, you got it ;) They are full siblings, but grew up apart. They were reunited by the war. I couldn't have them as twins because I mentioned previously that Weaver was 22 when Nala was 21.

Haradion: Cheers M8. Rolling again. And there's another secret I haven't told you, which you may like ;) But then again, you've probably used the force to figure it out by now. I've got a big mouth online.

Taylor: Cheers :) But I've got a bit too much work on my hands at the moment to try that. That story would be interesting, but not much really happened in that gap. It was a time of calm. And I couldn't do a sequel to MHV3. It would be too far into the future, and I would have no choice but to make it almost Sci-Fi. I doubt people would read it.

Carrie: I doubt she would. Nala turned out to be pretty vicious, as far as she could see at least. And she worked for Scar.

Cheers: JJZ-109

CHAPTER 29. THE HEIR

Kivuli looked at Scar thoughtfully.

"So that is how Nala came to be. It's enlightening to say the least. As well as the boy..." Kivuli said, to no reply from either Scar or Ammit. Scar decided to speak first.

"Yeah well, so is most of this you know. And what do you mean about the boy? Mheetu Weaver? He means nothing to me." Scar responded, and Kivuli shook his head.

"I would hardly say he was nothing, Scar. Between 'Mheetu', as Sarafina called him, and Nala, they caused you a hell of a lot of headaches. The main one being your downfall. They were the ones that tracked down Simba." Kivuli slowly paced past Scar as he explained.

"What do you mean? What headaches did Mheetu cause?" Scar raised an eyebrow suspiciously, and slowly followed Kivuli with his gaze.

"You still don't get it, do you? Let me spell it out for you: The boy's nickname was Mheetu. His official name was Matthew, Matthew Weaver. That name ring any bells?" Ammit loudly interrupted the deep thought.

Scar was lost for words. It was him. He could have killed the rat then and there.

"That's right, Scar. Number one enemy of the state until Nala revealed herself. Between the two of them, Weaver the rebel soldier and Nala the spy, they caused the most SRP soldier deaths ever recorded. A thorn in your side? Try nail, or long blade. Or better yet: a 7.62 mm bullet. Face it Scar, they destroyed you." Ammit sniggered at him, causing Scar to glare at him.

"Suffice to say she meant nothing to you." Kivuli corrected him.

"Was that why you didn't care if she became involved with your plotting? A field trip to East Side for instance?" He asked casually, but watched Scar's reaction intently. Scar scowled again, a momentary pang of guilt hit him.

"Now that one that was not my fault! It was never about her. She was... collateral damage. Simba was the one who brought her there; she would have been perfectly safe if not for his bravado, but he wanted to show off, and put her in danger because of it. Hardly my fault." Scar argued

"Well what did you expect him to do? 'Only the bravest men etc.' who else was he going to show off to?" Ammit asked irritably. Scar merely shrugged.

"It's funny you should mention the little maggot now of times..." Scar mused as the white mist descended once again upon the wraith plane.

"Why is that?" Kivuli asked.

"Oh you'll see..."

The mist evaporated once more.

Scar sat behind the television at his home. Zira was in the other room, cooking some form of Italian food. Scar would normally be there with her, trying to learn. Cooking had recently become a hobby of his, or rather, and activity to keep him sane. But tonight he was too distraught to even stand up from the couch. He had heard rumors floating around the palace, which he could only hope were untrue. But deep down, his stained heart told him that they were fact. It was just too likely.

He was watching the news; the political report to be specific. Meanwhile he sipped on some scotch from his silver flask. He had noticed himself slowly becoming an alcoholic, but didn't wish to suppress it. He knew for a fact his mind was strong enough that he could keep control of himself, unlike certain others he tried not to think about. He awaited eagerly the results from the latest election, which he had worked so hard to prepare for. The current government was slowly but surely starting to lose favor among the people. The Pridelander Liberal Party had been in power for more than two decades, and in that time, the country had become significantly richer and stronger economically. But they were hyper-capitalist. The mega-corporations became stronger, the rich got richer, and the poor got poorer. Assistance in East Side had almost dropped completely. The suburb was now almost in a state of anarchy; a Ghost Town. People had noticed.

However, before the results were announced, a massive headline took dominance on the screen. Scar's heart sank. It was just a he had feared. A Royal Heir was going to be born. A round-bellied Sarabi, as well as a proud Mufasa, waved at the thousands of patriots below their Royal balcony.

"Rumors surrounding the pregnancy of Queen Sarabi have been confirmed! In an official statement by the palace this afternoon, an heir to the throne is expected within the next few months. We now cross over to King Mufasa for his address to..."

Scar zoned out. That child would be the next King of the country. There was no denying that. His dream of a Socialist Reform just became a hell of a lot cloudier. Alcohol trickled down his face as Scar felt his grip on the flask loosen, and eventually it clattered to the ground. His hand then started trembling uncontrollably in rage. His eye twitched.

It was right then that something snapped inside Scar. In a minute everything seemed to come back to him. His mother lying broken in a car wreck, Calibanov's execution, the duel with Ahadi, the tears in his eyes as he solemnly trekked through the fields of Vietnam, and the horrific Napalm-stricken bodies. The capture. The three years imprisonment in Hanoi. Zira's pregnancy. The Viet Cong attack. Hissis mercilessly shot up. Kira's tiny grave in comparison to the great Kings there.

Everything he had lost. Everything he had sacrificed. His family. The crown seeped in the blood of his family. Uru, Ahadi and Kira, murdered over it. His eye scarred, Zira's ear. The blood. So much blood poured over that government.

Mufasa felt like the worst kind of traitor. All his suffering, all the bloodshed, all the sacrifice...He deserved something. Was he going to get it? No. He blamed Mufasa for the death of his son. He had slacked off with border security, and unlike the palace, had not posted the usual PI1 bodyguards to take care of his house. And bang, VC somehow managed to sneak in. He had sat back and eaten caviar in the Saigon command while Scar was tortured by the Viet Cong. And he had the gall to call it his military service. Now he dares to stand there like a fool and steal the only thing he had left. Now he would have no heir. No lineage. No legacy. He would depart the world without a trace. Did he dislike Mufasa? He hated him now. With a passion.

In a barely controllably fit of rage, Scar patted his hip for his Desert Eagle so he could blast Mufasa's image on the television screen. But there was nothing there.

He felt his face slide into his hands and tried to stop himself from sobbing. If he could cope with all that other crap, he could cop this, couldn't he? Hardly.

There was only one hope left. And that hope seemed to come like a bucket of sand tipped over a raging fire. It kept Scar's sanity, or what remained of it. It was the election results. Last time, the PNSP had gotten a massive boost when images of the injustice at East Side became public, as well as fictional work describing a non-monarchist Pridelands. They held 14 seats out of 150 in the senate, nothing compared to the Liberals' 73.

The result came as a calming shock to Scar.

The people had voted for his party big time. They held 60 seats out of 150. The Liberals held 62. They were almost the largest political movement in the Pridelands. Scar tried to think of likely catalysts, it could be his massive campaign, or then again, maybe they were pleased when he announced the disarmament of the PNSP's private security force.

He didn't know how the sudden news of a Royal Baby would affect future progress, but one thing was for certain.

Socialism in the Pridelands was growing.

Ammit and Kivuli stared at the confused figure of Scar, half possessed by rage, half clouded with ambitious curiosity. Ammit licked his lips; it was as if this was the part of his story he had been waiting for all along, like a film defined by a certain scene. Kivuli gazed at the vision, his face ashen.

"So this is your fall... Your decent to the monster you became. I was wrong. It started with Ahadi, but here your decent is complete..."

The real Scar stared at himself expressionless.

"Yes... It begins." Unnoticed by Ammit or Kivuli, he shed a single tear. But when it landed on the ground his stamped a boot over it.

The mist shrouded the image like a curtain, before slowly retracting again, revealing a new image.

Prideland City.

Mid 1994.

The first lip of the golden dawn peered over the horizon into the Pridelands. The light fell across the cities, and far beyond at the main metro area itself. The country slowly started to animate itself, the birds chirped the tunes of the morning, traffic slowly started to pick up, and several excited radios broadcast the news the country had been waiting for.

The palace had the great blue, green and white Pridelander flag flying high above in the gentle morning breeze, as well as several big screen and television cameras stationed in the memorial park. Prideland Marines in full uniform marched proudly around the palace perimeter, unfazed by the time of the day.

The usual morning songs on the radio stations soon came to a silence. There was no noise. No static. Nothing.

Suddenly, a great cry in the Native tongue broke out on all stations:

NANTS INGONYAMA BAGITHI BABA!

How was that? We are officially in TLK1-MHV again. Scar's political power is starting to grow...ooh...As is the ambition. Familiar faces coming soon, as well as familiar scenes from TLK - humanized. Except this time around, I'm a better writer. So this will be like the digitally restored Blu-Ray version.

Anyway, for next TLKMHV poll question...Sorry if this isn't up the alley of any of you female readers out there...The Lion King: MHV series is known for having a beautiful collection of vehicles. From the famous Royal Interceptor, to Kovu's DeLorean...Which is your favorite ride?

This has been JJZ-109, and as always...Have a nice day.