Pitch's keen eyes studied the shimmering wall in front of them. It was a net-like mass, dark red crystals lining its surface. It reminded him of Shadow Man's eyes. Nightlight said that this was the final barrier, the one he hadn't dared to cross.

They had steered through a maze-like asteroid field a few days earlier. It was full of small creatures, but nothing attacked them. With Pitch at the wheel and Nightlight and Jack flying out in the darkness to map out the route, the maze had been simple. The corpses of two shadowy monsters had been at the center, wrapped around each other in the throes of a fight. They'd killed each other, leaving the path free.

It was almost a nonevent, but Pitch knew worse things lay ahead. And this net was it. Pitch didn't know what the point was. He reached forward to brush the net. It went straight through. The crystals were rough, the dark net soft and wispy, like a spiderweb. Pitch pulled his hand back, and the webby material stuck to him. But other than that, nothing happened.

"Well?" Jack asked, staring uneasily at the obstacle.

"No pain," Pitch replied. "But that doesn't mean anything. It's probably mental."

"Can we go around?"

"Do you think Shadow Man would make it that easy?"

Jack grimaced. "No."

They gazed at the net for another few moments then Pitch moved to the wheel. "Well, brace yourselves," he said grimly. "This will be nasty, whatever it is."

Pitch pressed the ship forward, watching as the net began to wrap around the ship. It hit Nightlight first, and nothing happened. Jack was next, and he flinched, but other than that, it had no effect. Pitch closed his eyes as the web closed over him, engulfing him in a sticky mass. He waited.

Nothing.

They all looked at each other, and Pitch shrugged. Nightlight reached up and began to tug the net away, but suddenly it tightened its grip on the entire ship. It disappeared into the wood of the hull with no adverse effect, but as it tightened over the living beings, the crystals burst, flooding a viscous, blood-like substance over their skin. For an instant, Pitch heard Jack and Nightlight wail then everything went dark.

Pitch's heart thundered in his ears as silence reigned. Where was he? What was going on? He couldn't remember anything. All he knew was blackness. Then arms wrapped around him, a hand covering his mouth as a long, slimy tongue slithered into his ear. And Pitch screamed in terror as fear engulfed him.

All else was forgotten as he struggled in the arms of the man who wanted to hurt him. He was too weak, too young to get away. He wished more than ever that Tsar and Tsarina weren't dead. They would protect him. But they were gone, and the tongue was disgusting and wet as it trailed down his cheek. Fingers tugged at his clothes and Prism tried to pry himself away. And as the hand moved away from his mouth, he shrieked for help, but a part of him knew that nobody would answer. He screamed louder anyway, hoping for a miracle.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

North trailed behind MiM, who peeked around another corner. Despite the precarious nature of their freedom, the Man in the Moon didn't seem worried. Bunnymund, Sandy, and Toothiana were huddled behind North, glancing around fearfully. They were all tormented by the hundreds of wraiths that were scattered throughout the dark tunnels. Their sobs and wails grated against the Guardians' ears, almost mocking them: You can't help us? Why not?! Help us!

MiM moved forward again, walking into a cavernous room. An orb rested in the middle of the room, covered in dust. This orb excited the Man in the Moon greatly. He walked forward, his brown eyes glittering with his unearthly light, and he ran his fingers over the dark, smooth surface.

"What is it, Manny?" North asked, peering around at all of the tunnels that branched out from the cavern.

Sandy stepped forward, forming symbols out of his sand that North didn't understand. He knew it was a question, but the word was unfamiliar. But MiM nodded.

"Exactly, Sandy," he murmured. "It looks intact… No cracks… No abnormalities… Do you think it works?"

Sandy shrugged, and North looked down at MiM.

"What is it?" he repeated.

The Sandman flashed his symbol again, but MiM laughed softly. "They don't know that word, Sanderson. It's not an Earthly word."

Sandy blinked then nodded, and the Man in the Moon pressed his palm onto the black orb. It lit up with a silver light, flashing like lightning and illuminating the cavern. MiM gave a soft cry of delight, brushing the cobwebs and dust from the surface. It was bright and perfect, and it was more light than they had seen in weeks. Colors played across its surface, swirling in meaningless patterns.

"Show me the children," MiM said. "Are they safe?"

And the orb pulsed for a second then projected an image up. It was the Earth, but it started shifting through scenes. There were happy children playing around, a boy with ice cream, a group of children playing soccer, but then the scenes shifted so rapidly that the other four Guardians got dizzy and looked at MiM's face. He was staring intently at the scenarios, completely unfazed by the speed. After a whole minute, he nodded.

"Now show me the Spirits on Earth."

Unable to help themselves, the four Guardians looked back up to see slower images, and these people they recognized. There were Autumn and Summer, the Groundhog and the Leprechaun, and about a hundred other faces they knew. But their expressions were dark, and the scenes were bloody, full of rage and fear. MiM didn't look happy.

"Obscurus has inflamed them," he murmured then looked up at the four Spirits standing before him. "You are all very lucky that you are so close to me, that you came after me. I fear what you would do with the power you wield if you were under his influence on Earth."

North and Toothiana were pale, Sandy looked grim, and Bunnymund's ears were slicked back. None of them had a word to speak as they saw Spirits they knew to be kind and gentle fighting and arguing and hurting each other. But then MiM frowned deeply, his eyes traveling over the faces that began to rotate through again.

"Where's Jack?" he mused.

"What?" North asked, tearing his gaze away from the shifting images.

"Jack. He wasn't there."

Sandy stepped forward. "Ask. It should show you."

MiM nodded, brushed his hand over the surface, and said, "Show me Jack Frost."

And the orb faltered for a moment then flashed again. And they all heard Jack screaming bloody murder. He was wrapped in dark webs, covered in red goo. His body thrashed against the dark boards beneath him. Tears streaked down his face, and he clawed the air as if fighting an invisible enemy. MiM paled.

"More! Show more!" he ordered, his voice rising an octave.

And the orb pulled out to show a ship, a dark ship in the midst of the stars. Two more figures writhed around, one on the deck, the other by the ship's wheel. The one on the deck was a boy that glowed even more brightly than MiM did, though it was tinted a ghastly red. His mouth was open in a silent scream as he gripped his head, shaking all over. The other form was the one that MiM looked to.

"Show me Prism," he demanded.

"Who?" Toothiana asked.

Then the orb zoomed in on the man who was cowering against the wheel, flailing and shuddering. The others gaped when they realized who it was.

"Pitch!" Bunnymund gasped, his eyes widening. "MiM! What's going on?"

MiM ignored Bunnymund completely, all of his attention on his old friend. And the four Guardians saw the Man in the Moon's face twist with indescribable agony as he stared at Pitch, who was sucking in great breaths, his pupils dilated, his gaze far away, as if he were lost in his own mind. He was fighting like Jack was, trying to get away from an invisible enemy.

"Prism!" MiM called, tears gleaming in his dark eyes. "Prism, it's a bad dream! Wake up!"

And then, to the surprise of the Guardians, even Sandy, Pitch stilled, his chest heaving as he looked around him, his gaze still far away.

"Lunar!" he screeched, sounding more terrified than anybody they Guardians had ever heard. "Lunar! Help me! Please!"

"Prism! It's not real!" MiM called back. "Fight it! Obscurus has you! It's a trick!"

"He's going to hurt me again! I don't want him to touch me! He's licking me! He's trying to hurt me, Lunar! Make it stop! Please!"

Pitch looked so defeated, so panicked, and MiM closed his eyes for a moment then breathed out. His glow became brighter and brighter, and he reached over to touch the orb.

"I'm here, Prism," he cooed, then he grew so bright that none of the four Guardians could even look at him anymore.

The room was so bright that they could see every detail of the cavern, and their fear retreated with the darkness. Even Sandy had never seen a Tsar of the Golden Age in all his glory, and this surpassed anything that he had ever known. The glare hurt even his eyes, and he audibly gasped and squinted to see the image of Pitch Black. He had stilled. What was going on? He had never heard of an Orb being able to convey voice and image, but something was happening, and he was fascinated.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Pitch strained to hear Lunar again. Was his old friend simply in his head? If he was, he needed to hear him again. When Lunar spoke, the fingers loosened their grip, the tongue seemed almost phantom-like, and he could breathe a little. He was about to call for Lunar again, desperate to be free of the present moment. Then light slashed at his sensitive eyes, and he cried out, shielding his face. He heard Lunar reassure him that he was there, and Pitch gasped for breath. He knew that light.

It was the same light that had greeted him as a child when the Tsar and Tsarina had first come to his dark home. It was the light that had radiated from the two Golden Age beings all throughout the years that he had known them. It was the light that Lunar had tried to tap into so many times, exhausting himself to the point of deep sleep. And it looked as if Lunar had finally found his own light, for it was Lunar's light, there was no doubt about that, and it was beautiful. It didn't hurt his eyes as the Tsar's had, as the Tsarina's had. It soothed him, and suddenly he could see where he was. He was wrapped in a net and covered in something red on his ship.

'Gotta get it off,' he thought, struggling to his feet.

He threw himself down to the deck and scrambled over to a barrel of water. Shuddering, he picked up a bucket, ducked it in, then doused himself. The red gushed down his body, landed on the deck, and immediately dissipated. Pitch found himself free, and he stumbled back, sitting down hard, sucking in great gasps. He hardly knew what was going on anymore. Lunar's light still shone on him, and he glanced around in bewilderment to see Jack and Nightlight writhing and fighting, covered in the same viscous red goo.

Pitch swore and shot to his feet. He dipped the bucket in the water again and half-ran over to Jack, throwing the bucketful of water over his thrashing form. Jack shrieked in surprise then stopped as the red substance fell away from him, his blue eyes blinking as if he were confused. Pitch didn't wait, hurrying back to the barrel to scoop up more water. He drenched Nightlight, and the light boy let out a yell and cowered away then blinked up with his wide, luminescent eyes.

"Prism!" he squeaked. "What…What's going on?"

Pitch shook his head, tossing the bucket aside, then sat down and hugged himself as he looked back where they'd been. The net was still there, unaffected by their passage.

"Fear," he croaked. "It was a fear barrier."

Jack and Nightlight blinked at him then burst into tears. Pitch, still terrified, felt as if he could offer no comfort, but still, he crawled over and pulled them both against him. The light was gone, and he wasn't sure if it had ever been there. He clutched the two boys, shaking and shivering and holding back his own tears. He felt as if kind eyes were on him, so he ducked down, holding the two boys tight, unable to speak.

Pitch was still afraid, but not of the vision. He'd had nightmares like that for years. It was an old enemy, one that didn't matter in the light of day. No, now he was afraid that Lunar's light hadn't been in his mind, that his old friend was somehow watching him, seeing him as he was, a tainted victim of another man's lust, and that terrified him more than anything else. How could someone so pure look on something as filthy, as unworthy as him? He didn't have an answer besides the tears that slid down his cheeks.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

MiM's light was soft now, the gentle, unearthly glow that they had always known. But they would never be able to look at the small man the same way again. They had seen the full power and glory of the Golden Age in him, and they were awed and a little afraid. Now they knew more closely who the Man in the Moon really was, what his capabilities were, and for the moment, they were not afraid of Obscurus. In fact, they guessed that MiM's power was the reason they weren't in immediate danger from the Shadow Man.

MiM watched Pitch hold the two boys as they cried into his shoulders. They were terrified, and they would be for a while. MiM wanted to make sure they were alright, but he couldn't risk it. Using his power like that would have sent out a clear signal. They had to act fast. He passed his hand over the orb's surface and turned to Sandy.

"Sanderson, I need enough sand to create a mimic of this. Quickly."

Sandy blinked at him for a moment then nodded and began to pull out dreamsand. The Guardians watched in fascination as, with a word of ancient power, fire erupted around the ball of sand, turning it to glass. With swift, precise movements, MiM grabbed the orb, shrank it down, and put it in his pocket, and placed the new orb in its place. Another word and dust coated the room, and the orb turned as black and listless as the first one had been. He took a step back, turned, and glared at a passage. A minute later, Obscurus appeared.

"Found the Orb, have you?"

"Yes," MiM said. "It won't work."

"Broken," Obscurus groused. "It wouldn't work for me, either. I guess it must be useless if the Tsar can't use it." He shook his head then clapped. Shadows slithered up behind him. "They will escort you to your cell again."

And MiM docilely followed the shadows, striding with purpose. The others followed, and for the first time since the light, they were afraid again, but not for themselves. Obscurus might have an idea of who the Man in the Moon was, but he was sorely mistaken in believing that he could beat him.

Unbeknownst to them, MiM was thinking the same thing, but not about himself. He had been thinking deeply since his last conversation with Obscurus. There were only a few reasons he could think of that the Shadow Man would be so eager to destroy Pitch. One in particular stood out, and it played across his mind in a shimmering prismatic display, a memory of his childhood with Pitch. Because Pitch was also from the Golden Age, and he was a being unlike anybody else that Lunar had ever met. And he doubted Obscurus had ever met a more resilient soul, either. And it was Pitch's resilience, his special resistance to the dark, that scared Obscurus.

Because that was the root of it all. Obscurus was scared of Pitch Black. Pitch didn't yet know it. But once he did, MiM thought, the tables would be turned, and it would be Obscurus who would fall.