Maleficent supervised as the goblins and Heartless were hard at work putting the Eminence Palace back together again. Even after being a prisoner in her own home for a month, Maleficent still had no intentions of letting this castle go. On the contrary, now that it marked the site of not only Xehanort's defeat but the Master's as well, it was doubly important that she maintain it as a symbol of her strength.
Pete strolled up beside her and crossed his arms as he watched the reconstruction as well. "We've looked all over the Overtaken Kingdom, and there ain't no sign of Koragg or the Horned King. They musta hit the road when their boss went kablooey."
"No matter," Maleficent shrugged, in far too good a mood to be angry over such a triviality. "What are two insignificant ants compared to the might of the Overtakers?"
Pete laughed. "That's right! We'll run those two bozos outta all the worlds soon enough! Once we get our new plan all geared up! ... Uh, we do got a new plan, don't we?"
Maleficent's upper lip twitched. "Silence, fool! It is not your place to question me on such matters! You will know my glorious plan when I see fit to share it with you!"
Pete quickly apologized and made an excuse to run off in the other direction, fearful of Maleficent's wrath. Maleficent knew, however, that Pete would only be the first to ask, and the others would not be so easily dissuaded. She'd placed all her faith in the Book of Prophecies, and now that option was no longer on the table. She needed a new strategy to take over the worlds.
On one hand, her new plan could simply be the old plan. With Xehanort gone, she could try to take possession of Kingdom Hearts for herself and plunge all worlds into darkness. Yet, loathed though she was to admit it, that route had other complications. She wasn't prepared to wage a Keyblade war, and there were many things about Kingdom Hearts that Xehanort had either lied or misinformed her about. She had to admit that she didn't fully know what she was getting into.
There were other, more direct, routes to power out there in the multiverse. Maleficent just had to figure out what they were.
"A difficult question to contemplate, is it not?" Imperious asked as he strutted over to Maleficent.
Maleficent sneered at him. "Your former Master is destroyed. You have no further reason to remain here. Return to your business, whatever it might be."
"Now I know I didn't just hear ingratitude lobed against the man responsible for setting you free," Imperious remarked.
"Which you did by luring the Chernabog right to our doorsteps without consulting me," Maleficent added. "You are treacherous, devious, and entirely too ambitious. I would be a fool to trust you to be inducted into our ranks."
"Fool or not, I think you'll find that I'm just the man you want by your side," Imperious said. "There are dark magics beyond even your understanding, o' Mistress of All Evil. But they're not beyond mine."
"Audacious, I see," Maleficent said with a smirk. "Very well, Imperious, you shall have your chance to stand amongst the Overtakers. However, should your loyalties ever come into question, trust that I will have you thrown into a black hole."
Imperious gave Maleficent a dramatic bow and took his leave. He would certainly be one to exercise caution around, but Maleficent couldn't deny that he had a certain charm to him. He would be useful to their cause, and if Maleficent had somehow managed to inspire loyalty from Loki, she was certain she could do the same with Imperious.
Loki and Doctor Doom, meanwhile, had retreated to their mansion in the world of Thedas, Chateau d'Onterre, for an evening away from the palace where they'd been imprisoned for a month and away from their proverbial cellmates, the other Overtakers. The two villains sat across from each other at the heads of the sizable dining room table, both dressed for dinner with Doom discarding his armor to simply be Victor von Doom. Though the Black Cauldron was presumably taken by the Horned King when he fled, Loki and Victor's staff of Cauldron Born servants remained to prepare and serve the feast.
"Victor, this spread is truly marvelous," Loki said as he admired the dishes laid in front of him. "Brings back memories of feasts back in Asgard."
"I oversaw the choice in menu personally," Victor replied. "Dishes of mutton, lamb, goat, and pork. Dried stockfish, eels, smelt, salmon, and winkles. And I assure you, finding good winkles this time of year is no easy feat."
"Oh indeed not," Loki said with a grin as he took a swig of wine. "I count myself impressed that you even knew what a winkle was."
"Doom knows all," Victor boasted before quickly adding, "... after having looked up what it was in our library."
"T'is truly a noble effort to replicate Asgardian cuisine," Loki said as he sampled his winkle. "Which leads me to wonder why you've gone to such trouble."
"I should think that would be obvious," Victor said without looking up from cutting his pork. "It is a celebratory feast now that we are free from the Master's tentacles. If we dined upon the same meal as we always did, it would not be a celebratory meal, would it?"
Loki shot Victor a knowing expression that told him that he didn't buy that answer for a second. Sometimes Victor hated dating a god of lies. Nothing slipped past him.
"I merely wished to show you that I listened to you when you complained of the Midgardian meals in the Eminence Palace," Victor relented. "Can one not make a sentimental gesture without having to bask in it?"
"Oh of course one may," Loki said with a smirk. "But you never do anything without reason, and I wish to hear you say why."
Victor groaned and set down his silverware. He should have known that a lie by omission would still be lie enough even with the actual truth laid bear.
"You obviously believe you know the answer already," Victor said.
"Yes, but I wish to hear it from you," Loki replied.
"This was clearly a mistake," Victor said as he wiped his mouth and rose from his chair. "If gestures cannot simply speak for themselves, then I have little interest in continuing to make them."
"You're concerned that I intend to leave you and the other Overtakers," Loki stated. It was not a question.
"And should I not be?" Victor asked. "You did say very clearly after the Book of Prophecies plan fell through that you had little interest in continuing to dally about play acting as a team. With the Master gone, you now have the freedom to act upon that desire to abandon the Overtakers."
"And you thought food might change my mind?" Loki asked with a smirk.
"A small gesture to show that your words are heard and your desires valued," Victor explained. "Yet now the gesture has been spoiled, and there is little point in continuing to dwell upon it."
"If you wish me to stay, all that you need do is ask," Loki said.
"You know what I want," Victor said as he donned his armor once more to once again become Doctor Doom.
"Yes, but I want you to say the words."
"Doctor Doom does not beg."
"I did not ask you to beg. Precision, my dear Victor."
"Words to you are naught but another form of power and control."
"So true, and that is precisely why I value them more than I do a gesture. Do you wish me to stay enough to humble yourself to ask? Or is my presence merely one that is only desired in so long as it does not require you to grant me anything of substance?"
Doom sighed. As much as these games frustrated him, they also were a part of Loki that he knew he could never change. In a strange way, that endeared him to them. They were the only times when Doom felt he could humble himself, for whatever that was truly worth.
"Very well," Doom said. "Loki, I wish for you to stay with the Overtakers... and with me."
Loki grinned smugly and gave a dramatic bow. "As you wish."
Russell wasted no time warping back to Villain's Vale to see Steve. His Corridor of Darkness manifested itself in the Vale longue so quickly that it startled Demyx, almost causing him to spill his plate of food all over the floor.
"I could have dropped my croissant!" Demyx whined.
"Where's Steve?" Russell asked before turning even more fierce. "Where's Daken?"
"No, 'Hey Demyx! How ya doing? Great to see you, man!'?" Demyx asked. "Fine, I see how it is. I'm just the chicken who nobody wants around."
Russell swiftly snatched Demyx by his coat's collar, hoisting the young man up over his head. Demyx yelped at Russell's sudden action.
"One more time," Russell said, baring his fangs. "Where. Is. Steve?"
"I don't know, I haven't seen either of them in days!" Demyx said quickly. "Steve turned himself into some freaky bat thing with a dragon tooth, and Daken went to go turn him normal. That was the last I saw of either of them. Nobody came home after that."
"And you didn't think to go looking for them?" Russell asked, his rage causing his accent to switch from his usual Southern drawl into his original Germanic accent that he had before moving to America.
"It seemed like too much effort," Demyx said. "I didn't really wanna go, and nobody asked me, so I didn't."
"You are fuckin' useless!" Russell growled as he hurled Demyx back down onto the sofa and darted out of the room.
Queen Grimhilde admired her reflection in the Magic Mirror. It felt wonderful to have her radiant beauty restored once more. The Master's spell had thankfully not left any permanent scars that a little bit of magical lotion couldn't erase. Grimhilde was truly the fairest one of all, and she didn't care how many other women she had to murder to ensure that she remained unchallenged in her beauty.
"Somebody's a happy girl," Cruella's sultry voice said as she approached the mirror.
"Would not you be as well had you just regained the face that made you the Fairest One of All?" Grimhilde asked.
"Darling, I'm already the Fairest One of All," Cruella quipped.
Grimhilde shot her a venomous glare. "Watch yourself. I have killed for less."
"I only jest," Cruella added quickly. "In actuality, you truly are the Fairest One of All."
"Oh, I will be very soon," Grimhilde announced with half-smile. "Very soon indeed."
Cruella was about to say more when Russell burst into the chamber, startling the two women. Grimhilde quickly regained her composure and crossed her arms. Her ally seemed very visibly distraught.
"I need you to use your mirror," Russell said, his original Germanic accent still slipping through. "NOW! You owe me for the time I was trapped inside it!"
"For what purpose?" Grimhilde asked, raising her eyebrow.
"To find Steve!" Russell said with an exasperated tone as if that were the most obvious answer in the world.
Grimhilde was curious about Russell's current state, and the villainous part of her thought about exploiting his distraught state in exchange for a favor. However, she quickly thought better of it. Russell was stronger and more powerful than her. If he wanted to force her, he could. His gratitude would be more valuable than a coerced favor. Grimhilde summoned the spirit of the mirror, a somber theater mask with green and purple lighting shining upon it from various angles.
"What wouldst thou know, my queen?" the mirror asked.
"Magic Mirror, search far and wide," Grimhilde ordered. "Reveal where Steve Newlin hides."
"Across dimensions to a world most dire," the mirror answered, "To a New York City that has been ravaged by fire."
"Can he be more specific?" Russell asked. "Coordinates or somethin'?"
"I'm afraid that is all that he can tell you," Grimhilde stated. "But that may prove to be all that you need. With your connection to Steve Newlin and the image of a city in flames in your mind, the Corridors of Darkness should do the rest."
Russell nodded. "Thanks. You've been a big help."
Without another word, Russell vanished into the darkness.
Fish Mooney was wrapped in furs dyed magenta and red from head to toe, and she was still freezing cold. When Ursula invited Fish to come along to Atlantica to look for Ursula's treacherous sister Morgana, Fish assumed they'd go somewhere warm and tropical underwater as mermaids. Instead, however, they were rifling through Morgana's above water ice cave.
"How are you not freezing, Ursula?" Fish asked. "If my shoulders were bare in this temperature, I'd drop dead."
"Mermaid biology is different from humans, Angelfish," Ursula said as she rifled through her sister's cabinets, looking for any clues as to where she might've gone. "We're made for living in the fathoms below where the sun doesn't shine. Cold temperatures are hardly an inconvenience."
"I'm officially jealous," Fish declared. "Have you found anything that'll point us in the right direction?"
"Nothing yet," Ursula said. "Just a bunch of second rate potions... Oh! What have we here?"
Ursula held up a pink bottle with her face etched onto the side. "I had wondered where this bottle of my magic went. That old skank! Never was a good enough witch on her own."
"Well compared to you, how could she be?" Fish asked as she walked over and gave her girlfriend a kiss on the cheek. "I'm lucky that I'm learning from the best."
"And don't you forget it either!" Ursula added with a chuckle.
Fish strolled over to another shelf of knick-knacks that all seemed uninteresting. However, a single object stood out: a round framed portrait depicting an elderly woman who resembled a skinnier version of Ursula standing with two young girls, presumably Morgana and Ursula. The portrait's label indicated that Ursula had won first place in some competition. Fish smiled at the smug confidence that Ursula exuded in her portrait even back then, but it was impossible not to notice Morgana pouting a bit at Ursula's victory.
After a quick glance to the left, Fish noticed another picture of Ursula hung up on Morgana's wall. This one depicted Ursula closer to the way she looked now. The most noteworthy thing about the picture, however, was that several razor sharp starfish had been thrown into it as if the picture were a dart board.
"Your sister clearly has some resentment issues," Fish remarked. "What'd you do to her."
"Why do you automatically assume that I did anything to her?" Ursula asked.
Fish shot Ursula a knowing glance and raised her eyebrow. The meaning in the gesture was plain.
"Okay, point taken," Ursula said with a chuckle. "But this time I actually didn't do anything to her... aside from being our mother's favorite daughter. It's hardly my fault that mummy loved me and not her."
"What was your mother like?" Fish asked.
Ursula scratched her chin as if she were unsure as to how to answer that question. "Now how shall I put this... she was a... severe woman. In every meaning of the word. She had expectations and rules and you followed them... if you didn't, well... you just did with her. Actually, now that I think about it, Maleficent reminds me of her, and I'm not sure how I never noticed that."
"That would explain why you're always so eager to please Maleficent," Fish pointed out.
"I suppose it does," Ursula remarked. "It was only the three of us back then: me, her, and Morgana. Pretty sure she turned daddy into a shrimp and gobbled him up when we were little. Anyway, we were always poor like the other Octopins, living like worms whilst the merpeople of Atlantica sang and danced all day. Oh how it disgusted my mother how much the Atlanticans hoarded for themselves. She pushed us so hard to be powerful enough to take everything that Atlantica had for ourselves. I rose to the challenge; Morgana never did."
"Must've been hard," Fish commented.
Ursula shrugged. "It made me the powerful and stunning woman I am today. Can't complain."
"True enough," Fish said. "You and I both became strong because of how we grew up. Something else we have in common."
"Gotham and Atlantica didn't deserve either of us," Ursula added.
A crumpled up piece of paper on the floor suddenly caught Ursula's attention. It was hardly unusual for Morgana to leave garbage around, but the paper wasn't the seaweed reed parchment used in Atlantica.
"What's that?" Ursula pondered out loud as one of her tentacles snagged up the paper.
Ursula uncrumpled the paper to find that it was an advertisement poster for something called The Struggle. What Morgana's interest in such an event would be, Ursula couldn't even begin to guess. What did catch Ursula's eye was the location printed on the flyer: Twilight Town. Ursula grinned and held the paper up so that Fish could see.
"Looks like we've got a lead," Ursula explained.
The Jolly Roger soared through the sea between worlds. The winds of the Etherium tussled Hook's hair as they flew around asteroids and gummi masses. Hook was just thrilled to get some fresh air away from the Overtaken Kingdom. His little excursion to the Fabled Countryside hadn't quite scratched his itch for adventure and freedom. When Jafar suggested a treasure hunt earlier, Hook had practically jumped at the chance.
"Take us two notches to starboard," Jafar bellowed as he studied the cosmic atlas.
"Aye, two notches to starboard," Hook echoed as he did so. "Remind me again what this treasure is. You mentioned it was a sphere?"
"A Treasure Sphere, yes," Jafar answered. "It's a type of technology once utilized by Etherium pirates such as Captain Nathaniel Flint. It's essentially a cache used to hoard pirate loot away from prying eyes."
"Well I for one prefer the old fashion way," Hook remarked. "Burying treasure is a far more elegant process than stuffing it in some globular mechanism."
Jafar scoffed at that. "As I was saying, the contents of a given Treasure Sphere are not exactly advertised, though the usual content consists of gold, gummi materials, and other valuables."
"And that interests you how?" Hook asked with a raised eyebrow.
"You've heard of the golden rule, haven't you?" Jafar asked. "Whoever has the gold makes the rules."
"You seem to have the misguided notion that you can bluff directly to my face," Hook said. "I'm a pirate, mate. A pirate who's seen you disrobed, I might add. You know the old phrase: naked men have no secrets."
"Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to tell you my true quarry," Jafar pondered. "This particular Treasure Sphere contains loot pilfered from a nearby world, and I believe that this cache holds the powerful weapon of a demigod, a fish hook."
Hook cocked his eyebrow and raised up the hook in place of his left hand in response. "If all you desire is a hook, I'm amenable to sharing the use of mine."
"This fish hook is a much more powerful artifact than your sentimental prosthetic," Jafar explained. "And it shall be mine!"
Jafar cackled wickedly at his declaration.
"Might I inquire as to why you evil sorcerer types feel the need to laugh maniacally after everything?" Hook asked.
"Well... it punctuates my evil," Jafar answered. "It's a flourish!"
With that answered, the evil sorcerer immediately returned to his sinister laugh. Hook shrugged and kept his eyes on the horizon. Something gold and metallic caught his eye off in the distance. As the ship approached closer and closer, he saw that it was a round orb with etchings and various moving panels adorning the exterior. It had to be the Treasure Sphere that Jafar spoke of. Hook anchored the ship to a nearby gummi cluster and joined Jafar at the bow of the ship looking out at the Treasure Sphere.
Jafar extended his arms outward and began to chant. "Zimba zamba zalaboo!"
Bright red magic spiraled out from the head of the serpent staff and engulfed the Treasure Sphere, irradiating the metal disks that acted as pressure points to open the cache. Hook and Jafar looked on in anticipation as the Treasure Sphere opened to reveal...
"WHAT?" Jafar growled. "HOW CAN IT BE EMPTY?"
"I've been sold many a tall tale by seaport scallywags that promised a great treasure," Hook said. "An empty cache is not exactly an unforeseeable outcome."
"No, no, NO!" Jafar spat. "I am CERTAIN this is the cache that held Maui's fish hook and a great mountain of gold and jewels! Someone got to it first... But who?"
"Does it truly matter?" Hook asked. "They've come and gone, and there are other treasures to seek."
Jafar shot Hook a venomous glare. "Where is your sense of outrage and determination? You who spent there better part of three centuries in pursuit of revenge?"
"You care that deeply for a magic fish hook?" Hook asked.
"It's not about the hook itself," Jafar answered. "It's the principle of the matter. I desired the hook, and it was denied to me. That can never be allowed to stand."
"Well, as you said, I spent centuries in search of vengeance," Hook stated. "A revenge that still remains unsated. Even my symbolic vengeance against the Beast failed spectacularly. I've often wondered if the principle of the matter ever truly mattered. Why should I have any drive when everything I want always ends up slipping through my fingers? Is there really any point in wanting anything?"
Jafar was about to inform Hook just how utterly foolish he found that line of thinking, but Hook continued to speak before Jafar got the chance.
"And the answer is yes," Hook continued. "The principle of the matter is the only thing worth anything. If you feel slighted by the theft of this fish hook, then we simply must make this thief taste cold steel."
Jafar beamed at that. "You had me worried for a moment there. Not everyone can bounce back from failure quite so effectively. I knew I saw in you an equal in determination."
Jafar tapped the base of his staff on the deck and cast a Corridor of Darkness in front of them.
"Come," Jafar beckoned. "The hourglass back in my laboratory should reveal to us the one who has stolen that which is rightfully ours."
The Corridor of Darkness deposited Hades, Maleficent, and Blackheart along the banks of the Styx, looking out at the Underdrome. With the uncertain state of the Underworld's current management, they dared not teleport in any deeper, lest they find themselves captured by a hostile occupying force.
"My palace is down the road a bit through the big blue iron doors over there," Hades said. "Then it's just a hop, skip, and a jump over the River Styx and through the woods to grandmother's house we go."
Maleficent held out her hand to signal for her companions to wait a moment. "It would be best for one of us to scout ahead a bit first. If there are any traps along the path, we should be aware of them before out entire procession presses onward."
"I'll take care of it, mommy," Blackheart said as he walked forward.
"I am not your mother," Maleficent snapped. "You shall not address me as such."
Blackheart put on a pouty face and turned to Hades. "Daddy, mommy's being a bitch again."
"Don't press your luck with her, kid," Hades warned. "Go, do your job."
Blackheart winked at Hades and proceeded forward through the gates.
"What was that all about?" Maleficent asked.
"Eh, Mephisto really skimped out on that kid's education," Hades explained. "We had nothing better to do when the Master put us under house arrest, so I figured I'd show him some of the ol' Lord of the Dead ropes. He says he calls me 'daddy' to annoy me, but I think he actually does it 'cuz he's starved for a father who values him. And, hey, y'know, I've really discovered the joys of teaching."
"That is a feeling I know well," Maleficent said with a nod. "Would that Riku were as an enthusiastic pupil as your Blackheart."
"Always happy to share him," Hades shrugged. "He does kinda have the best of both our worlds when ya get right down to it."
Maleficent shook her head. "When next I take on an apprentice, it will be with a pointed goal in mind."
"Speakin' of, hope ya don't mind, but, uh, what exactly is our new goal?" Hades asked. "The Book of Prophecies thing was a bust, and that door is closed and bolted shut. Sooo... what now?"
Maleficent's first instinct was to respond to Hades the way that she did to Pete, but she knew that Hades was her closest confidant. He deserved to know the truth, and maybe he could even help remedy the situation.
"I do not yet know," Maleficent admitted. "The Book of Prophecies is not the only path to power, but it was one that I counted on. Now I will need time to craft a new course of action, time that I do not have with the anticipating glances of the other Overtakers baring down on me."
"This is just a shot in the dark here, but have you ever considered Pandora's Box?" Hades asked. "Powerful plagues of ancient evil that mortals are particularly susceptible to. Could come in handy holding some worlds for ransom."
"I shall take it under consideration," Maleficent nodded in thanks.
As she did, the Cave of the Dead's gates opened once again. Blackheart stepped through, escorting a strangely dressed man that Maleficent had never seen before. The man's face, however, seemed to light up at the sight of Hades.
"Fancy meeting you here!" the man called out with a curt little wave.
"I found this old guy wandering around," Blackheart explained. "He says he's dead, but he doesn't exactly have the same complexion as the locals."
"Now, now, one should never judge another's honesty based on the translucency of their skin... or lack thereof," the man said with a coy smirk.
"It's okay, Blackheart, let 'im go," Hades said. "This guy's Ardyn Izunia, the guy who hooked us up with the ink for the Book of Prophecies. I gave him an optional Get Outta Underworld Free card in exchange for it. Though, uh, Ardyn, babe, if you were gonna use it, it's a Get Outta Underworld Free card, not a Come Back to Life and Just Hang Out in the Underworld Free Card. Capiche?"
"Oh, of course, accept my humblest apologies," Ardyn said with a courteous bow. "My curiosity was merely piqued when I arrived, and I wished only to see who was in charge of this kingdom in your absence. I was on my way back out when your charming son grabbed me."
Blackheart beamed with pride at having convinced a total stranger that he was Hades and Maleficent's son. Maleficent just rolled her eyes.
"Did you find out who's been Goldilocksing in my house?" Hades asked.
Ardyn nodded. "Mind you, I'm terrible with names, but there were four most unfriendly fellows. I only managed to catch the name of their leader. Does the name 'Lord Cronus' mean anything to you?"
Hades's blood ran cold, and he became far more rigid and tense than Maleficent had ever seen him.
"This could prove to be more difficult than even the Master," Maleficent said to Hades.
"Wait, hold on a minute," Blackheart said. "Somebody wanna explain who Cronus is and why daddy's so freaked out."
Hades's usual devil-may-care swagger was completely gone. Now it was only a tense fear and rage left in his words.
"Cronus is my dad."