Wow. This is an intense chapter. /kinda...

Love y'all! GO have an awesome day/night!


CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO:
Pandemonium Bastion

The room was wall-to-wall paper white, empty, made of a square that could barely fit Lloyd's bedroom back at the Garmadon's manor, and that wasn't saying very much. The room was empty of anything but the plain, blatant color white, as though whoever had built the small room was making some sort of innocuous statement. The small door placed directly across from her taunted her with freedom into the unknown things yonder that very chamber. The ceiling wasn't very high, but it was many inches taller than Misako, far too tall for her to reach even if she wanted to take a risk. It would seem, though, that the captors tormenting her mind with the image of her own husband being gunned down before her were into making sure she didn't have any choices. Not even those as innocent as simple movement. Misako found herself, after waking from a protracted, dreamless sleep, chained to the wall by her wrists bound. Elbows fastened in a ninety-degree angle, the priceless metal cuffs interlocked crushingly around her arms, and thick metal chains to rattle around for the fit of it. Misako's legs, too, were encompassed in similar fashions, although it was apparent that if her hands were free she could walk in a semi-circle around the floor. Her arms were numb with blood loss, and time was far gone. She didn't know how long she had been chained in here—wherever "here" was. Her face was sore, her head was stuffy, her nose was plugged, and her eyes were drenched in the literal downpour of tears she'd unconfined in the back of the Bizarro's van. Misako wasn't sure at which point she'd finally given into sleep, but it had obviously been a nap lengthier than she'd foreseen.

It was harder to feel anything in her heart now, after this tragedy, than it was after she'd stowed away Lloyd at Darkley's boarding school. Leaving him had been hard enough to swallow. This very moment, Misako didn't have anything to look at and find beautiful to make all her pain disappear; once upon a time, that had been Damon, the sight she'd been able to look at. Looking at him made all her troubles disappear. It had made everything fall into place, meeting his cool, calm eyes, watching him with her heart pounding inside of her. Looking at him when he died had made that all wash away…

He was all she could think about, and the grief was just too much. People normally underwent a stage of utter denial. She understood; the unthinkable had just disrupted the forcefield of invincibility you wrapped around yourself. It took others a while to accept that something this catastrophic had happened to them. Misako lived in a world where things that ugly happened on a regular basis, things so painful that came and disappeared at the will of those wielding the darkness. Only a small window of normality had existed in the larger household that Misako had bought herself when accepting Lloyd's fate as the Green Ninja. It seemed now that it suddenly grew wider. It showed her that even if she lived during the most outrageous things ever to commence in human—and nonhuman—history, there were still very mortal, everyday things that would happen. Death seemed to be a constant chill creeping up her spine. A wandering entity that always struck on impulse. Losing Damon was the hardest thing that she would have to ever live through. Misako hung her head. Her shirt was dried with his blood. Her hands were still smeared with it. Her jeans, her ascot, her everything had a piece of him caked to her. Just not a piece of him she rejoiced having. A stray tear ran down her cheek.

"I see you're awake," boomed a voice from some corner, emitted through a speaker device that she couldn't see. Misako jumped, rattling the chains attached to her by force. She couldn't locate where the voice had come from, nor could she tell the age of the orator. Although the accent of the speaker was very similar to Pythor's, it wasn't a familiar voice at all. The only thing she could tell was that it was a male. Her heart drummed a little faster with the scare. "I trust you slept well? You've been out for quite some time, though. My associates and myself were starting to get a little worried about you, Misako dear. Are you hungry?"

"W-where am I?" she stuttered. For the first time, Misako noticed her throat was dry, causing her once-strong voice to come out hoarse and cracked. She cleared her throat but it only did more wrong to the aching passageway than it did good. Her eyes investigated the corners of the room for a sign of a stratagem, but she couldn't see anything. It was so white, it hurt to look at.

"Oh, silly me. I forgot to give you the customary introduction! You'll have to excuse me; with my plate full, my memory can be HORRID these days. Welcome to Pandemonium Bastion, Misako! You'll find that your stay here will be lacking in luxury, but it is quite the Headquarters for those who are on my side. You see, I hate to have Ninja Sympathizers inside of my beautiful castle, but I must say, kidnapping you was a relatively functional idea. I'm pleased with the outcome. Either way, Pandemonium Bastion is a very RESPECTABLE environment…meaning I will not have you defy any orders given to you whatsoever. I tolerate to rebellious feelings, Ms. Garmadon. I'm glad you and I are on the same page."

"I…think you're mistaken," Misako croaked, shifting her bent knees to avoid losing all feeling in those, too. Her head felt heavier than it did before. "I'm not exactly sure what page you're on."

"My apologies," said the voice, but Misako could tell there was no sorrow behind the words. "You're probably confused as to precisely what Pandemonium Bastion is, and why I've brought you here."

"You could…say that."

"Since it would seem your collective party is a little late, I'll dawdle in the task of revealing to you a little of your purpose, my dear. I won't be so stupid as to drop every detail of the plot on you, but I'm sure by the end of it you'll have a much better understanding of my intentions. That way, you and I surely will be on the same page. Misako, you are of great importance to me," said the Pythor-accented voice. Misako blinked her mind out of a foggy sleep, but couldn't expel herself from the feeling. "It is of similar reasons why you were intentionally important to Eloquim, too. I understand that you have once been fluent in the language of the Shadow Dancers over the course of your lifetime after studying it for six years. Am I correct?" Without waiting for an answer, the male's voice continued. "Though you have gotten old and have logically elapsed with being confident in the language itself, I have faith that you still remember a lot of the old structure. There is not a doubt in my mind that you can still read it. Now, if you know where I'm going with this, I would gladly yank you out of this room, threaten you and your son, and tell you to read the Shadow Map I have provided. However, it would seem that the Shadow Map is no longer in Dancer possession, and I am certainly aware of who has their grimy little hands on it, Misako. That would be YOU."

Misako couldn't help but suck in a quick intake of breath that she knew her captor heard—from whatever room he was—through that speaker he talked to her with. Whoever this was at the moment, whether it be in one form or another, Misako was sure it was Kaos. None of his henchmen would have the privilege to speak so freely, not even to a prisoner. She glared at the ceiling, knowing her face was sticky from her tears and the mascara it drug down with it. Her evil eye had no effect on whomever was watching her right now, observing from another room, staring at her without giving her the compassion to look back at them, like a normal human conversation. She felt her stomach clench. Kaos knew she had the map.

When Kai had been arrested from the hospital a month ago, Edna and the other adults had come rushing to find her as she had been doing to them. Recovery from the serum that Caroline had injected into her and the wearoff from the programming errors Caroline had installed into the droids happened soon enough. Misako had, being stuck into the back of the truck that Pythor—mysteriously missing afterwards—and Caroline had dredged into Darkley's parking lot, escaped. She'd wanted to follow the others immediately and make sure that the Ninja were safe, but she'd had to stayed behind to talk to officers and accompany Wu and the other mystified robots in what their next tactic was. At the time she'd finally been able to go to the hospital after her friends, it had been too late. However, Edna had handed her Kai's backpack, which he'd held in nonchalant positions at his feet before the time of the arrest. Inside is where Misako had found the Shadow Map. The Ninja of Fire had been able to snag it from the scene of the crime before the police had found it. She'd mentally thanked Kai for being such a clever boy and had stowed it somewhere safe back home, where no one would ever find it.

But now she was being charged on suspicion of possession of a deadly map that this Dancer wanted. She swallowed thickly and tried to knit herself a poker face. Kaos, however, seemed to already have seen the jump in her persona, and gave a laugh through the speaker. "I know you would never dream of handing it off in a million years," he said, "But I must tell you I wasn't present for the original reading of the Shadow Map. I also have better things to do than try to go kidnap the Green Ninja, like Eloquim so humiliatingly failed at. Which is exactly why you're going to have to be my little historian for a while. I'm able to access you quicker than I could your son—much of a time waster, that one is." There was a rustle on the other end of the phonogram. Misako took the chance of silence into her own hands.

"So you want the same thing Eloquim failed at? To get that key?" Misako asked loudly, glancing around her in despair. "You're going to try and do better at what he flunked?"

There was a low chuckle. "To open the Gates is not my main goal, Misako, although it is tempting to my army of Dancers. I have other priorities."

Misako bit her lip. Other priorities? "Like what?" She questioned, but she knew it was a dead end. Kaos was no idiot.

"I already explained to you that I'm not telling you about my whole plan. All you need to know is that I will hold you hostage until you read that map, so at least that portion of my plot will be discontinued when you comply."

"But you don't HAVE the map for me to read," she said slowly, testing the air. "And I don't plan on showing you where I've hidden it. You already know my answer. Lloyd is strong; he doesn't need me to protect him anymore. Your threats are worthless against the monastery of peace. You can kill me. I wouldn't read that map even if you did have it."

There was another chuckle. Like most villains, Kaos thought this was funny. "Oh, Misako. I already knew that you wouldn't show me where that map is, but I do know for a fact that you will read it. You have far too much to care about. Killing you now would be a waste of my resources, now wouldn't it?"

Misako stared at a blank wall. She wouldn't show him. She wouldn't take him anywhere, she wouldn't allow him to read it, she wouldn't let that enigmatic tongue of Dancers roll off hers. When she had hidden the map, she'd looked at it, and she'd known exactly what it said. That was why she'd stuffed it so far deep into its new refuge that it would never be located within hers—or her children's—lifetime.

"It's a lost cause, Kaos. You'll never find it."

"I pity you, Misako. I really do. You're such a dim creature that I do believe you lack more knowledge than you withhold." The intercom went silent, and after a moment, Misako could felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. The silence was eerie.

But it didn't last long. The door across from her was kicked wide, slamming backwards against the wall and creating a large earthquake within the room. Misako's chains rattled furiously even after the small disruption stopped. This is what Kaos must've meant by her 'collective party.' She stared in fatigue.

"ALRIGHT let's move it. We're late enough as it is," said Fang, outstepping himself into the room wearing the same clothes he had when he killed Damon. Misako's throat clenched. Behind him, he dragged a long stretcher, complete with bindings to ensure that she wouldn't escape. Misako's throat tightened. Pushing from the backside, his body curved over the stretcher, was Kai's Bizarro, empty-faced and exhausted. His appearance was stunningly doppelganger-ish. The only differences were the green eyes and his forlorn black clothing. It appeared that he, too, liked to down half a bottle of hair gel every morning to make the spiky-haired theme work. He quietly shoved the stretcher into the room, turned it sideways with the help of Fang, and glared at her.

"We finally meet, Misako. It's not a pleasure to see you." His voice, too, was just like Kai's. The similarities between the two different spans of people made Misako's body wrack with shivers. They moved aside the clasps on the stretcher so that they dangled over the edge, providing a long white space for Misako to lay atop of. The perch was oddly condemning. She moved her ankles while the chains cried out.

"The feeling is… mutual…" she groused. Her fingers tingled achingly from the loss of blood. She barely had the ability to command her fingers to wiggle to make sure they were actually still part of her body. Her eyelids fluttered independently; she was finding it hard to keep consciousness under the weight of grief, stress, and the overpowering scent of blood creeping up her nose. There was just too much holding on her plate, and it was starting to get heavy; if she could continue to lift it, there would surely be a guardian angel sitting on her shoulder. Everything was becoming so heavy. Especially for an old historian like herself. She flapped her eyelids again.

"Someone getting a little sleepy?" snickered Fang, reaching towards her left arm to detach it from the cuff. Misako's eyes kept closed, but she could feel her arm fall, deadweight, against her lap. She wanted so badly to reach up and punch him, but she couldn't manage to do so. The blood loss was taking its toll.

After a moment, her other arm was free, as was her ankles. You wouldn't believe how strong the will to fight back was overcoming her body. It was enough to send a woman into a deep concentration to will away her forsaken insides into battle mode, failing horribly when it told her that it was not powered properly for the task. Her body was heavier to her than it was to the Bizarro boys; Misako was then lifted by the strong arms of the supernatural evils carrying her up to her final resting place. Her body was lain flat across the cool, steel surface of the stretcher as it burned at her back. The chill was bad enough, but to add to it, the strange tingling in her bloodless forearms was starting to hurt. Misako's eyes only drifted open for half-seconds at a time. She could feel the boys start to wrap the cuffs over her wrists—but she couldn't fight back. There wasn't the possible capacity to argue a fight which would later conclude in awful missed endings. She felt her whole body drum. No, that wasn't her body; it was the stretcher as it was pushed on wheels from the room, disappearing outwards to the hallway. If I can just open my eyes, I'll see where I am and find…out…if I can recognize my surroundings, Misako thought, but when she opened her eyes, all she could see was darkness. What was going on? The motion of the wheeler never ceased, informing her that they were still on the move, but through shadows they traveled? It didn't make sense.

Dizzied through the shadows and faltering through lethargy, Misako's lips parted for voice. The only thing that came from her lips was a bubble of spit rising from her mouth. I just need some…sleep…she thought, feeling her lids drift shut. Her cheek pressed against the steel underneath her, transporting her to god-knew-where, enough to put her to…

"I find this horrendously ridiculous that you think I should be the one dealing with this," snapped Maru into his ear. He batted away her face, close to his underneath the cover of a mask, with the back of his hand to make sure that she stayed away from his ears. Maru was not anything like Koemi, always talking off his ear during missions, or rather babbling away while also explaining their position to the enemy—or whomever they were stalking at the moment. In fact, Maru hardly ever said a word when they were out unless something important happened to come up. This was the first time that he'd ever heard her speak a word outside the task at hand—but he wasn't about to make it a tradition. He kept his position against the broken railpost a secret while hers, dangling from the roof of one of the few preserved fair booths, was fairly obvious, if one of those half-minded policemen were to glance over. He didn't look back at her but rather signaled with the flick of his hand. He heard an angry scoff from her perch.

"You're being ridiculous," she continued in a furious whisper, this time remaining atop the cracked roof instead of hanging upside down to flick her tongue at his ear. He clenched his gloved fingers around the broken wood post that had once supported an entire booth before the wreckage caused by the wormhole had attacked. Nightfall was beginning to collapse. At any rate, the police would soon take their cavalry and disappear. Certainly no one would be stupid enough to stay and play long after the sun had gone; by listening in, he'd already gathered that each of the authorities were frightened by the odd blue glow that came off the giant hole in the ground. It was definitely the aftermath of the wormhole itself. He'd seen it happen before back home, a time long before Wu had located him, dragged him by his hair forward in time to this strange era that he was still adjusting to. The wormhole was extremely dangerous. The site could've been radioactive for all he knew. At night, after the sun had disappeared, the hole in the earth that never ended would start to twinkle a shade of deep blue, a sign that there were still subtle remains of the Traveler's Tea still skinned into the wedges of the cracks in the soil. He'd already examined it after the authorities disappeared in the early morning of the day. (It had been around three o'clock when the last of them called it a night. They taped off the viral site with yellow tape—like that would stop invaders from permeating this camp. It was like that cartoon that Bokuyo had once watched on the moving-picture box, about the young girl with the head shaped like an English football. She repeatedly warned a foxlike creature not to go near her precious objects by holding out her hand and demanding that it not swipe her belongings. Somehow, the creature thought that was some form of deflection…if it was here now, seeing the yellow tape wrapped around the sinkhole wrecking the ground and the sure destruction of small wooden buildings, looking as though a tornado had ripped through the area, he would've run immediately at the first sight of the tape. It just wasn't logical. No one stopped trying to rob someone just by being told not to. He had told Bokuyo that whatever story he was watching was ridiculous and should therefore be erased from his mind.)

He and Maru's espionage had continued over the course of several hours. They had not slept since the wormhole yesterday and throwing that strange ninja-impersonator into the hole. They hadn't seen him crawl out yet, so maybe that was some sort of sign. He was starting to get a little tired, but failed to fall into sleep's clutches. It was his duty to continue on with this mission until told by the earpiece in his ear to do otherwise. He could hear Maru's deep sigh from above him.

Even before both of them had been captured by the marauder Wu and transported back with him into the future, Maru and he had been designated kunoichi and shinobi partners. They'd grown up together since they were young; trained together until they became professional ninjas; fought together on every battle, every task given; and were both ironically hired for the same employer to protect a very important person. Their designation as trained ninjas had been quite the news in Iga, their place of birth back at home in their own time period. He was certain that their disappearance from their important jobs was making its toll on the community. He was frightened, but not enough to distract him from the assignment he was given now. In order to return home into the past, he and Maru had to finish their jobs here. There were still many questions he had for his captor, this Sensei Wu who claimed that he was the bearer of the abilities of four elemental ninja; however, he had yet to meet the students this man constantly battered over. The likelihood of their existence was very slim, in his mind. After all, their actuality only happened in the tales Wu relayed.

Wu had taken them into his interlude with two others who he was in the process of training, much unlike Maru and himself, who came packaged with ninjutzu in their belts. One was the notoriously talkative Koemi Azai from the present, whose last name was quite the moniker back in Iga. It similarly rang to the defeated Nagamasa Azai, collapsed in his own game by Nobunaga Oda… he wondered if there was any relation between the fallen warrior and Koemi herself, but couldn't ask. The second refugee was not from the past, but from the future; Bokuyo Taizo was one child that he found himself enjoying. The boy was definitely something. But the two adolescents definitely were far from becoming skilled ninja in the short period of time that Wu had allotted them; not even double shifts and extra help from Maru would be able to teach them ninjutzu in proper time. It took the two from the past their whole lives to master being dedicated Shinobi. What made Wu think he could press for time and make two CHILDREN learn faster, when the girl was as hair-brained as a rodent and the little boy always chattering about his mother?

He allowed himself to tear his eyes away from the mingling police officers to look up at Maru. She dangled herself, cat-like, over the side of the roof, but not once fell. Her leg swung lazily in the breeze. "I don't like to complain, but I don't want to do this," she said softly, knowing he was watching her. "I was never any good at the seduction portion of my training, Daijiro. You know that."

"I do," Daijiro agreed, flicking his dark eyes back to the falling sun and the constant chirps of the officer's 'radios,' or so Koemi had called them. Daijiro just thought it was strange to see such equipment, coming from someone who was still processing the great change from Iga to…this. Man had definitely evolved from his days of throwing stones. "Think of it as a test to see whether or not you have developed better in that department. All we need is for you to lure that particular man away from the crowd"—he nodded to the suspect they'd been put in charge of monitoring—"so we can interrogate him."

"But doing so would also result in seeking the attention of the other officers," she said. "They would become aware of my presence and surely would notice. Is there not an easier way than to use sex appeal to get a man to follow you?"

Daijiro sighed. "I wish, Maru. But I do not have any other plans."

There was a crackle in his ear. It was that device that Koemi had stuck into their ears, made by the weird people at the monastery, that allowed them to contact their base through this small, barely-visible piece. He rubbed together his hands and lifted a finger to the button inside of it. "Erm…konnichiwa?" He said, trying to grab the attention of who was on the line.

"DAIJIRO!"

The Shinobi cringed at the loud gasp of Bokuyo's voice in his ear. From above, Maru chuckled. Their equipment was all connected so each wearing them heard the same thing. He tried to slick back his poker face before pressing the button to respond. "Bokuyo, I ask of you not to scream so impulsively in my ear."

"Saweeee!" The little boy giggled. His voice was floundering. "When is Daijiro-sama coming home? Sensei's Ninja have awwived, Dai! An' Auntie Nya-sama is having a baybeeeee! Izzn't dat e'ssiting, Daijiro?"

"Auntie Nya?" Daijiro repeated. He was not familiar with the term 'auntie.' Nor the identity of 'Nya.'

"YEEAAAA!" The little boy cried. Daijiro recoiled again. The piece was jammed into his ear, so close to it that it was starting to hurt when Bokuyo yelled. The fashionable Shinobi unclasped one of his shurikens from the wrap around his waist and began to follow the suspect with his eyes, a middle aged man with slicked back hair, a fox face, and bright green eyes. He wore no uniform but unruly street clothes. A red backpack was slung over his shoulder—Daijiro found the color extremely suspicious. The way he was moving around the crowd apparently made those back at the monastery uneasy. "DAI! Mommy izzz awlso here! WHEN ARE YOU COMING HOOMMMMEEEE!"

"I am currently on a mission," Daijiro informed him. "I cannot leave until I—"

"ABOUT 'DAT," said the little boy. His voice cut off the shinobi's, but after a moment of silence, the intercom was not picked up by Bokuyo. Daijiro frowned when he heard the lulling voice of Koemi Azai poke through the speaker.

"Hey! So, about that mission—Sensei says to abort."

"Abort?"

"Yeah. You know. Stop what you're doing and return."

"I know what abort means," Daijiro said frankly, staring at the subject, who now peered into the wormhole with pursed lips. "But why are we aborting? Our eyes are directly on the suspect."

"Sensei just says you'd better get home, like, now."

"Why 'like'?" Maru asked from above. Daijiro could hear her voice echoing across itself through his own ear speaker. It was one of the many inconveniences of being within earshot of one another.

"It's just teen slang. You'd never understand," Koemi answered. No, Daijiro thought, I don't think I ever will. This time frame may have had the luxuries of technology beyond everyone's wildest dreams, but Daijiro was glad he was not from this time. He would find it so difficult to keep up with everything. "Your orders are to abort the mission completely and return immediately. Later strategies will be discussed upon your return."

Daijiro sighed. And just when he thought they were getting somewhere with this subject… He rubbed his forehead before talking again into the earpiece. "Mission abort understood. Commencing return now." After Koemi muttering an affirmative, Daijiro looked up at his lolling partner. She jumped down gracefully to his side without making a sound, exampling a skill that Koemi and Bokuyo couldn't master in just a few weeks. He moved the mask covering the lower half of his face down to his neck so he could breathe fresh air again. "I suppose that's enough on Elomne von Teufel for tonight," he said, eyeing the abnormal suspect from the peripheral vision he had. The man didn't notice his name was being said. "Come, Maru. Let's go before I change my mind about following the old man's orders."

...

Elomne stared into the dark abyss and chuckled. They think they're clever, he thought, staring into the gaping hole before him. The two dark, black-clad forms of the Shinobi disappeared, but their reason still lingered behind them. He watched the emptiness spread before him like a sheet of white paper just dying to be written on. They think that they have all the aces. They'll be surprised to find that they are the ones with the bad deck of cards. His hands were tightly clasped behind his back. Subsequently exploiting a quick scan that no one was watching him, Elomne raised his hand to press against his own earpiece, speaking without some kind of formal starter. "They've left," he said flatly. He awaited a response.

It came quickly. The voice of Kayus filled his ear. "Did they realize you have the pack?" he asked briskly.

"No," Elomne responded, looking into the depth of the hole. "They didn't make a move to get it back."

"Good," Kayus breathed, like it was a weight on him. He wasn't the one being stalked by two bounty hunters. "At least now you can bring it back and give it to Kaos. We already have the Garmadon woman; she hasn't agreed yet to read the map, but I can tell you that she'll be reading it soon when you get back. Tell me, where did you find that backpack, anyway? Was it hidden in plain sight?"

"No," Elomne said again. He looked up the hill, outlined by the setting sun. "I found it hidden underneath the Four Weapons sign on the building. Misako must've thought she was being sneaky, putting it there, but her idea was very unoriginal."

"Tell me about it," Kayus groaned. "She's about as interesting as a box of crackers. Did you check to make sure that the Shadow Map is in Kai's backpack?"

As if proving a point, Elomne hefted the weight of the stolen bag on his shoulder. He'd quadruple-checked to make sure that the Shadow Map was, indeed, inside of the knapsack before drifting too far from the Four Weapons shop that the bag was hidden on. Finding it was just too easy. "Yes," Elomne answered, roping his arm through the other strap.

"Good. Now, get your ass back here. Kaos is getting impatient."

"Like the world revolves around him or something?" Elomne turned on his heel and started walking past the officers. Not one of them turned their heads at the citizen walking around on the illicit side of the police tape; the reason for that outlandish glitch was that these phonies couldn't even see him. They sucked at doing their job if they couldn't even pick out an imposter within their own forces. Kaos' powers were extended far enough into helping his 'retriever' in pretending to be one of these policemen; it didn't give reason, though, to why those Shinobi could see past his cloak. He'd have to bring that up later, back at Headquarters. AKA, Pandemonium Bastion.

"It's Kaos. Of course this damn world revolves around him," Kayus answered. "Hurry your ass up, Elomne. You're not getting paid to stop and stare."

"I'm not being paid to do anything."

"Your service will be repaid when the Gates open, yes?" Kayus tsked. "I thought you were smart enough to think of that on your own. Either way, I'm not hanging around to be the metaphorically-challenged stress relieving toy of your little relative back here. Just hurry and bring back that map, will you? Time's wasting, and I have things I want completed before Christmas comes around. I want those Ninja dead by the end of this week, and your lack of speed isn't helping."

"Good luck with that." Elomne stepped outside of the police tape. There, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a small sphere that appeared to be a smoke bomb, and threw it against the ground. Like most magicians could only pretend to do, Elomne disappeared completely into the smoke to reappear in the main room of Pandemonium Bastion, but this enchanted teleportation ball was crafted out of real magic instead of dawdly show time tricks. As the smoke cleared, he waved his hand in front of his face to reduce the earthy smell that came with it.

It was hand-crafted especially by none other than their beloved witch, Danielle Juliens.