Taking Back the Crown

by JCMorrigan

Mozenrath. Archibald Snatcher. Roman Torchwick. Mad Madam Mim. Yzma. The Huntsman. Wuya. Ayam Aghoul. Their mission: take over the multiverse, or look fabulous trying. Rated M for swearing, steamy implications and VERY bloody battles. Contains slash and het shipping.

160. Bewitch You in the Moonlight

A/N: All Monster High content is pre-reboot. Also, it's not required, but it'll help things if you're familiar with the song "Love Shack" by the B-52s.

...

Visions, dancing through his dreams. Visions of the Academy and a thousand children in Huntsclan garb and a tentacle-bearing monster and a blonde girl who showed immense promise.

The fog cleared, and the Huntsman could feel the presence of the environment around him. Lying on a soft mattress. Home, on the warship.

Except that wasn't what he remembered happening. It came back to him: falling unconscious on the battlefield, Albel raising his sword –

His eyes snapped open. He struggled to sit up as quickly as he could.

He sat on a most peculiar bed, one that seemed to have been made out of the lower jaw of some immense alien beast. Most befitting his aesthetic. It marked the far end of a suite stocked with luxuries aplenty, but no door – just an open archway marking the way to the hall beyond. The walls and floor were gaudy red and white stripes.

Gingerly, the Huntsman left the bed. Then, less gingerly, he barreled toward the archway out of the room.

There was a sizzle: burning on his skin. He was thrown backward, lying flat on his back again, staring up at the red-and-white ceiling.

"Hmph. Fool. Did you REALLY think that would work?"

The Huntsman propped himself up on an elbow. Gave the room another glance. Off to the side, hidden in shadow, was a pool of water; the steam rising from it gave the impression of a hot tub. In that pool, there was Albel, wearing nothing at all but letting his long hair flow freely enough that it almost acted as a robe, the way it wetly clung to whatever of him was surfaced.

"How did I arrive here?" the Huntsman asked, bewildered. "Did you not slay me in the arena?"

"You ask this while staring at me, alive in flesh and blood?" Albel snorted. "You're more fool than I thought."

"Why would you pass up such an opportunity?"

"As champion, I am allowed certain rewards. Even if it angers the Grandmaster. I simply said I wished to keep you alive for a potential rematch, and he had little choice but to comply – "

The Huntsman was standing now. "I did not ask how. I asked WHY."

Albel was silent a moment, almost pensive-looking. Finally, he answered, "You were the first worthy opponent I had battled since arriving on this desolate planet. Considering I came here in search of new battles to fight and ways to test my own strength, that should explain everything you need explained."

The Huntsman didn't quite buy it. There was something missing from this story. He almost wondered, against his better judgment, if Albel had somehow been swayed by their final exchange on the field. Their declaration of respect for one another's fighting style.

"There is far more I need explained," he simply said.

"I can imagine you have questions." Albel rose from the pool, swiping a nearby towel to drape around himself as he moved behind a thin foldable screen to change. From what the Huntsman could see via silhouette, he was starting with thoroughly drying off his hair so he could braid it once more. "Well? Go on. Don't just stand there and gape at me."

"You," the Huntsman began. "You are no ordinary human. You are comprised of data. Explain this."

After a moment's pause, Albel threw back his head and let out a laugh. "What an obvious thing to notice! Yet a strange circumstance. You see, I had thought myself as human as anyone in all the worlds. As I thought my homeworld, Elicoor II, to be as real as any other. Only to be informed by travelers from beyond the stars that it was all some sort of simulation devised as an amusement for people from the so-called 'real' world. That Elicoor II and all planets surrounding it were but playthings, a game. Bah! I walked its surface and felt its solidity! It was no mere illusion!"

"A game…" the Huntsman mused. "A video game, I suppose."

"Yes, yes, they called it something like that. A 'multiplayer' arena for people to gather as alternate identities. I was thought of as a 'boss' and a 'non-playable character.' The true name of my realm was 'Eternal Sphere.' All semantics. It never mattered to me that my world was not 'real' to others. After all, I am here in flesh, blood, and all glory. Is that not proof enough?"

"You found a way to leave the digital confines," the Huntsman said.

"All Eternal Sphere did so," Albel confirmed. "After a confrontation with the man who played God to our realm, we faced erasure, or so we were threatened. And yet our worlds were not erased. They simply gained new neighbors…new opportunities to test my strength."

The Huntsman had to take a moment to wrap his head around that one. "You are saying the entire game became a set of physical worlds? That it transcended its own data?"

"You ask me questions you assume I care about! I've told you Eternal Sphere was real, and that is the end of it!"

Meaning he didn't know the specifics or much of the jargon. He really only seemed to care about one thing. "You have sought battle," the Huntsman said. "And only battle."

"Of course," Albel answered, twisting up one braid. "On Elicoor II, I was Airyglyph's most feared military general. They knew me as Albel the Wicked."

"Most feared?" the Huntsman repeated. "At your age…"

"You judge?"

"No. As I said…I know someone quite similar. The parallel simply struck me. Continue."

"I fought every battle there was to fight on Elicoor II," Albel related. "When the war ended between Airyglyph and Aquaria, I was left without purpose. The worlds beyond the stars offered new opportunities. New battles to fight, new blood to shed, new vengeance to wreak. I suppose I could credit the savior of Eternal Sphere for granting me such an opportunity. However, I prefer not to."

"Did this 'savior' mean something to you?" the Huntsman asked.

"A foolish question!" Albel barked. "I won't even entertain it with an answer."

So it was a sore subject. "And what of the sword?"

Albel froze. He leaned out from behind the screen to check that it was still hanging on the wall. The Huntsman followed his gaze to behold it. "The Crimson Scourge," Albel explained, relaxing and drawing back behind the screen. "You will NOT touch it again, and that is the end of the argument."

"It bears significance to you."

"Hmph. How astute." Pure sarcasm. "I suppose you still had reason to question that after the outcome of our battle."

"What manner of significance is it?"

A long pause. The only reason the Huntsman didn't change topics was because he knew by now: if he hit a sore spot, Albel would just yell at him. This time, Albel was building up the time to answer. "The sword of a fearsome general who preceded me," he said finally. "The man who mentored me."

"Someone like a father to you."

"I would hope so, seeing as he was my father."

The Huntsman understood it now. And also a little more. "Your father is no longer among the living."

"Does that bear any importance to you?"

"You…miss his presence."

"He would hardly have been proud of what I have become," Albel grunted. "Regardless of my own pride. I am what I am supposed to be."

It clicked now. Why Albel would spare a man, older than him, who respected his fighting style and told him something encouraging.

"The sword is a treasured weapon from Elicoor," Albel grunted quickly. "Said to be able to cleave the very skies. Not a truth I've yet proven… However, to wield it is an honor. Those who are unworthy are driven insane."

"And you – "

"Are you about to ask if I am among the worthy? Do I seem insane to you?"

The Huntsman shut his mouth. He had been about to ask that. Very stupid question. After all, if Albel were insane, he would claim not to be. Insanity, however, was no deal-breaker among the WHAM ARMY.

"That's what I thought, worm," Albel spat. He'd finished both braids, moving on to his clothing.

The Huntsman realized the other question he had. "You have another weapon. The armor of the Meta. Where is it now?"

Albel laughed. "The toy they refuse to let me play with. I am outfitted with it before each match and stripped of it afterward. It is most likely in some vault miles away from here."

"You are champion because you can wield it," the Huntsman said. "A feat you can only accomplish because you are data made flesh in an inexplicable phenomenon."

"How many times are you going to state the obvious?"

"Then prove that my next statement is another obvious one," the Huntsman said. "You came here specifically looking for a challenge. How you were 'lost' is not important. Here is where you wish to be."

"Correct," Albel confirmed. "And also very obvious. The Grandmaster sees my true potential. Of course, he has also cleared the way and made the road to victory utterly too easy. I take my joy from the fight that leads up to the victory rather than the victory itself. You've seen how he ensures I win matches."

"Then the tournament has no purpose but bread and circuses," the Huntsman realized. "You've already been chosen."

"It was not my dream to become the mascot of an amusement park, but it's a preferable alternative to loss and death. And poses the challenge of how to break free."

The Huntsman found himself smiling. He could very easily see Albel trying to cut down an entire amusement park with only the Crimson Scourge in hand. No amount of metal pylons or screaming children would stand in his way.

"Where would you go then?" the Huntsman asked.

Albel stepped out from behind the screen, fully dressed in his purple clothing. "To wherever there is war to be won, of course." He crossed the room to stare out a glass wall at the city of Sakaar.

The Huntsman looked, too. Dilapidated buildings that looked slapped together, bustling foot traffic, spacecraft flitting around wormholes in the sky.

"You have asked me more than a few questions," Albel told the Huntsman. "Now it's your turn. What brought you here?"

"It's a long story."

"We can hardly leave, and I don't have much entertainment until the next match."

The Huntsman condensed it as best he could. His education at the Academy, his struggles against the American Dragon, and then the grand adventures of the WHAM ARMY. He found himself finishing with "We, of course, never seem to run out of opponents to fight."

(He couldn't deny he was thinking about extending the offer. After all, having the tournament champion as a friend would be an immense tactical advantage.)

"A temptation indeed," Albel said as he watched the skyline.

"Those who are powerful will be an asset to our forces," the Huntsman said. "Between your ability to run the Meta's armor – and other similar machinery – and whatever qualifies you as worthy of the Crimson Scourge, you would provide that asset."

"You don't know what qualifies me for the Crimson Scourge," Albel spat, turning away and folding his arms.

"Now that you've reacted like that," the Huntsman said, "I wish to."

Albel huffed as he hustled to the sword, taking it down from the wall and sheathing it at his hip. "When I first took it into hand, it asked me a question. I answered honestly."

"And that question was?"

"Whom I hated most in all the worlds," Albel answered. "It was satisfied with my answer."

The Huntsman nodded. "Someone on whom you wished to commit a great vengeance, I assume."

"No," Albel grumbled. "Nothing of the sort." He looked down to the sword. "He…wouldn't have wanted this of me, but who am I to deny myself based on a dead man's wishes? The least I can do is carry the sword in his honor."

"…Tell me what you answered," the Huntsman demanded. "It's something to do with your father. The one who killed him?"

"No."

"The other side of the war?"

"No! Cease your guessing, worm!"

"No," the Huntsman said. "Not until I get the answer. Was it – "

"It was the one who holds me back!" Albel snarled, rounding on the Huntsman. "The one who fills me with hatred for the world, who inspires me to anger and violence!"

He knew. But still he asked. "Who is that one?"

"…Me," Albel panted. "The one who stands in my way is me."

"You still abhor yourself to this very day for any imperfection," the Huntsman realized. "You chose to spare me so you could best me in combat without cheating. …Among other reasons, I suspect."

"It was no true victory," Albel huffed. "As I said, the Grandmaster takes away any sense that I've earned it. It is the battle leading up to it that determines my skill. You are the first to whom I would have lost, had the Grandmaster not intervened."

"You are divided," the Huntsman realized. "Between your father's wishes, those of the sword, and your own heart. Your father would wish you to be a man of honor. The sword seems to push you to something more…noble. Yet you long for bloodshed."

"Do you see now why I am so easy to hate?" Albel hissed. "The desires in my heart are failures in the eyes of all who are of concern. I suppose by now, you've figured out that I haven't revealed your weapon to you because were you equipped with it, I know you would finish the fight truly."

"I would not," the Huntsman told him. "On my honor as…" Well, he wasn't very honorable overall. "As a kindred spirit."

Albel sniffed. His lip curled.

"Is it worth it?" the Huntsman asked. "To steep yourself in such self-hatred in order to wield the Crimson Scourge?"

"The Crimson Scourge is EVERYTHING!"

"Is that so?" The Huntsman's tone was now sharp-edged. "It asks you to deny yourself. To choose unworthy causes over your own desires. To believe that your own heart is a poison. Whatever the relationship between you and your father, it certainly does his memory no good to deny your own self. If he wished you more noble, defy him. If he wished you to be true to your own heart, then do so."

"What would YOU know about such things?" Albel spat.

"What would I know?" the Huntsman barked. "EVERYTHING! I was stripped of all identity in my youth, given no freedom, not even when I became the head of the institution that held me hostage! The only thing that showed me I had a choice, that showed me I was acting on my own desires rather than a duty, was meeting Mozenrath and his fellows. They ALL carried with them the same hatred! Mozenrath the abuse of his past, Yzma the burden of her age, Roman his helplessness in the face of a greater evil! Mim, Aghoul, and Wuya may think themselves immune, but they've proven time and again that they are not infallible and well aware of it. And if you'd paid any attention at all, I shouldn't need to elaborate on Archibald Snatcher. We have chosen freedom. We have chosen to give in to our darkest desires. We have chosen to associate with like minds. Even then, it is not enough to dispel our scars. Do you wish to become like we used to be? To carry that sword until it slices your own soul in two? Or do you wish to be free of all ties, no matter how dark your wishes?"

Albel stood stone-faced, straight-backed, betraying no emotion. Then, at last… "Fool. You can't claim to know me."

"Then I won't make the decision for you," the Huntsman told him. "You must choose."

Hesitation. Then Albel gingerly gripped the hilt of the Crimson Scourge, drew it –

And hurled it into the hot tub, where it hit with a splash. Drawing another sword from the wall, Albel muttered, "I needed no legendary weapon to prove my own greatness. You will see that soon enough."

"Then you agree to ally with us," the Huntsman said. "Help us to attain the armor and we shall give you greater purpose in battle and conquest." And friends.

Albel nodded. "It will not be easy. As I have said, the armor is kept closely guarded and only given to me when I enter a match. However, difficult as it may be, the solution is obvious."

"All we must do is have one of our number, any one, clear the other half of the bracket," the Huntsman said. "They will face you in the final match."

Albel nodded. "You understand. We will then forgo fighting each other and turn our efforts on the Grandmaster itself. Those of you who haven't died will be waiting in the wings, of course."

"Depending on the course of events," the Huntsman mused, "there may very well be some who have died among that number as well."

"Then we're agreed – "

The sound of sprinting footsteps, two pairs of shoes banging on the floor. A pair of familiar figures turned the corner, hurtling down the hall toward the archway that led into the Champion's Suite. "THERE HE IS!" Mozenrath yelled, having eyes only for Albel.

Miratrix drew both swords as she charged; "YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!"

The Huntsman flinched. "Mozenrath, DON'T – "

Mozenrath and Miratrix both slammed into the technological barrier and were thrown back, spasming.

The Huntsman sighed, rolling his eyes.

"George…" Mozenrath sputtered, prying himself up. "You're…alive…?"

"Surely you've attempted to resurrect me only to realize it was not possible," the Huntsman sighed.

"…Of course I did," Mozenrath grumbled quickly, in a tone that revealed he hadn't thought of that at all. He clapped a hand on Miratrix's shoulder, then used magic to manipulate the dials of his teleporter, zapping the two of them from one side of the barrier to the other.

"What is going on here?" Miratrix snapped. "Explain NOW."

Albel smirked. "The man who killed Annihilus, and the girl who bested the Warlordians…it makes sense that you were all of the same flock."

"I am no mere GIRL," Miratrix seethed. She braced her swords; "You may have spared the Huntsman, but you still deserve to die for what you did to him!"

"STOP!" The Huntsman threw himself between Albel and Miratrix, holding his hands out to her. "He is an ally."

"What do you mean, he's an ALLY?" Mozenrath scoffed.

"I mean what was said," the Huntsman stated. "Albel has agreed to help us obtain the Meta's armor in exchange for freedom and greater purpose."

"You…recruited him to the WHAM ARMY." After a long pause, Mozenrath broke out in smug laughter. "George, you sly dog! And here I thought you on the lesser end of the manipulative spectrum."

"It is no manipulation," the Huntsman assured. "Only a bargain struck."

"Now that I know THESE are your companions," Albel laughed, "I am even more assured of our deal. If nothing else, it will be amusing."

"He reminds me of you," the Huntsman told Mozenrath.

Mozenrath's eyes went to Albel's metal gauntlet. "I can see that."

Albel held it up. "Does the sight of it impress you? A wound of war that I repurposed into a weapon."

Mozenrath responded by putting up his own right hand. "A sacrifice for power. A small price to pay, all considered."

"Are we going to trust him so easily?" Miratrix growled.

"Miratrix," the Huntsman sighed, "if and only if he should actively betray us, I trust you to handle him."

"You may try," Albel scoffed. "However, as a gesture of good faith, I will act as though you stand a chance of doing so."

Miratrix relaxed then, sheathing her swords. Albel could brag all he wanted, but he couldn't become a giant owl imbued with all the magic of the Octavian Chalice. "I will be watching you CLOSELY," she hissed.

"So let me guess," Mozenrath said. "You can't access the armor now because the Grandmaster keeps it under lock and key until showtime. But if one of us and only one of us makes it through the other half of the bracket, we get to face you in finals, at which point you transfer it over."

"And we concentrate our efforts on the Grandmaster and his worms," Albel affirmed with a nod.

"Well, seeing as the first seed is still going," Mozenrath pointed out, "now's the time to stack the deck. There are far more members of our…flock floating around out there."

The Huntsman nodded. "We collect a recruit. You have made a choice?"

"Based on the opponents I've seen in the wings, I think I know who we need next," Mozenrath stated. Then, with a sigh: "Though I suppose it was originally YOUR mission and should be YOUR call…"

"I trust your strategy," the Huntsman told him. "Set us a course."

He, Mozenrath, and Miratrix huddled, Mozenrath fiddling with his transporter. Then the Huntsman looked back to Albel, who stood some paces away. "I was under the impression you would accompany us," the Huntsman stated coldly. "After all, you did wish to forge an alliance."

Albel looked somewhat stunned. "…I did. And I will."

"Also, if you please…my weapon."

Albel hurried over to the bed to fetch the huntstaff from beneath it. The Huntsman had figured that was the only viable hiding place in the suite. Albel roughly shoved the staff at its owner.

"I do not hate you," the Huntsman told him softly as he grew close. "You are an admirable young man. Perhaps material for an apprentice."

Albel just grunted and looked away. Not believing it yet.

Miratrix glowered at him. She hated him still, and was ready to do what it would take to protect her own from him.

"Last call," Mozenrath said. "Leaving in five…four…"

The Huntsman seized Albel's arm in one hand and Mozenrath's in the other.

"Three…"

Miratrix clamped a hand on Mozenrath's shoulder.

"Two…one."

They vanished.

...

The area where Roman, Snatcher, Foulfellow, Gideon, and Harley had reappeared was a sight to see for sure. A large circular room whose walls were studded with archways, leading not down any visible hall but to shimmering portals that obscured their true destinations. Each archway was bordered by columns with oddly-shaped slots in them; some were filled with gemstones that glittered.

Harley gasped, clasping her hands together; "Is this some kinda magic royal palace?"

"Noooooot quite," Roman told her. "Actually, this was more of a mad science lab. A divorced couple of scientists, and no you cannot convince me otherwise, were using this as an experimentation station to link up different parts of the world we're on and send unsuspecting patsies to raid them for crystals."

"Ah, so we are here to meet these esteemed scientists!" Foulfellow declared. "Or at least whichever one of them we sided with in the divorce."

"Yeah, no, not quite that either," Roman told him. "They haven't bothered with the Warp Rooms in a hot minute, which means the Warp Rooms are fair game for other ne'er-do-wells to use in various crimes. Now, if Iceman were here, maybe he'd want to round up the brainiacs, but according to intel, right now, these are the stomping grounds of somebody more MY speed. Somebody committing a heist behind that very portal."

Roman pointed to an archway. Everyone looked to it expectantly.

Their target actually came from behind and to the left, and they were all startled at the sudden voice: "Ey, what're youse guys lookin' at? There somethin' goin' on over there or what?"

"…Or THAT portal." Roman turned to gesture to the newcomer: a lanky anthropomorphic rodent wearing an immaculate suit of bright magenta and toting a massive machine gun in one hand. At first he seemed some sort of rat or mouse, but upon further inspection, didn't really seem to fit those categories, instead closer to a more obscure rodent from Australian circles.

"Wait," he said, cringing. "You was lookin' for me? Why?" Quick as a wink, he aimed the gun at Roman. "You wanna fight? You the cops? Want my territory? Huh? Well, I ain't goin' down without a fight, and I sure ain't lettin' you take Ta – "

"Whoa, WHOA!" Roman put up both hands. "At least here us out! I'm here on a business proposition. Believe me, I hate cops as much as you do. You see this?" He tapped the Melodic Cudgel, holstered against a leg. "My own gun. Out of the way, not pointing at you, not looking for a fight. But still of the same…general purpose as yours."

"You's got thirty seconds to explain yourself," the rodent growled.

Roman took a deep breath, then: "Multiversal villain syndicate, seeking members, want you on the team, need lots of explosives right now, come in peace, not opposed to you leaving in pieces if you REALLY want to play it that way."

The rodent kept his gun trained on Roman a while longer, then lowered it. "Well, why didn't'cha just say so in the first place?"

"Because you pointed a gun at me before I could get the words out," Roman told him. "Anyway, ladies and gentlemen, may I present the most violent thug on this entire world: Pinstripe Potoroo."

"Charmed," Pinstripe sighed, rolling his eyes. "So who're you s'posed to be, huh? Ain't never seen your faces on the wanted-poster circuit…"

"I mean, we're not from your world, so you wouldn't," Roman told him. "That said…" He put a hand to his chest. "Roman Torchwick. You don't know it yet, but I'm your ticket to bigger and better things."

"He's right, you know," Snatcher chimed in. "I can vouch for it, and I, the esteemed Archibald Snatcher, am nothing if not a veritable source of verification."

"I don't even know who you are," Pinstripe grunted. "How'm I supposed to think of you as veritable, huh?"

"…You'd be surprised how many simply infer it and take it for granted," Snatcher mumbled.

"Hiya, Mr. Pinstripe!" Harley waved excitedly. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance! The name's Harley Quinn!"

"Heh…puns." Pinstripe gave a short chuckle. "Cheesy, but all right. And you fellas?"

"They call me 'Honest John,'" Foulfellow stated, "but to your ilk, I can admit the name is less than literal." He winked dramatically. "And this, of course, is Gideon, my partner in crime!"

Gideon gave a wave that about matched Harley's in energy.

"So youse guys came to recruit me into your mob," Pinstripe reiterated. "Whatchu got that my guys ain't got, huh?"

"What exactly are you trying to pull off right now?" Roman asked. "Chump change? Shiny things? Because what WE'RE after is stealing the power of entire kingdoms and worlds. You put your bloodthirst and your knowhow to use helping us get them, and you get more than a decent cut."

Pinstripe stole a glance behind him into the portal. Then looked back to Roman. "You ain't givin' me much to go on, pal."

"I mean, I came here expecting to have to prove myself," Roman told him. "So here's the new addendum. You pick the locale, you pick the heist, and we help you pull it off as a gesture of good faith. THEN you make your decision, which, spoilers, will be to join us."

"Counteroffer," Pinstripe said coldly. "How's about – "

That was when the person he'd been checking for behind him caught up. Skidding out of the portal, she too was an anthropomorphic animal, a woman with a mane of golden-blonde hair spilling off her fur-dusted head. She was dressed in a pink T-shirt and a pair of denim shorts, the belt loops of which were hooked to a grappling gun. Over her shoulder, she had slung a canvas bag with a "$" marked on it.

"GOT IT!" she yelled victoriously, plunking the bag down on the floor and letting the coin within spill out. "WOO-OO!" She pumped a fist.

"Nice work, baby!" Pinstripe told her. "Knew ya had it in ya."

"Good," the woman replied. "Because that makes one of us. I'm still new to this, y'know!"

Pinstripe approached her. "C'mere."

"Aww, youuuuu…" She threw her arms around him, and the one that he didn't have on the gun, he threw around her. The gun was maneuvered out of the way as the pair kissed deeply.

"Um…who the fuck is that?" Roman broke in. "She was NOT on our intel."

"Who the - !" Pinstripe whirled on Roman, pointing the gun again. "You watch how you talk about my girl! Use those kinda words on her again and I'll snuff your torch-wick out!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Stripes." The woman nudged the barrel aside. "You have to admit a lot of people haven't exactly expected me to be on the rogue side."

"You're his crime wife!" Harley exclaimed. "Aww, that's adorable!"

Pinstripe extended his arm to pull her close by the shoulders. "This here's Tawna Bandicoot," he said. "Met her in a hostage situation. I was the kidnapper and she was the hostage. What? Don't look at me like that; I was takin' orders from the big boss! That's when we figured out his plan wasn't workin' for neither of us!"

"And neither was the ex-boyfriend," Tawna added. "Anyway, Stripes and I are both horrific genetic mutations created by Dr. Neo Cortex, and turns out that can give you a lot of common ground."

"Tawna was a big softie when I picked her up," Pinstripe teased. "But a little convincin' and…"

"I'm on the dark side!" Tawna said proudly. "Oh my gosh, I actually shot my third victim on this heist. Can you believe it? I gunned someone down and it was SO AWESOME!"

"Proud of you, baby." Pinstripe planted a kiss on her forehead.

"Third…" Roman shook his head. "WHAT? You're telling me she's NEW to crime?"

"I mean, everyone has to start somewhere," Tawna replied. "You probably weren't born robbing banks or doing whatever it is you do, were you?" She blinked. "Also, who are you?"

"Look, lady," Roman sighed, "we already did the introductions, and you're not – "

Harley pointed rapid-fire; "Roman, Archie, Johnny, Gideon, Harley!"

"That is NOT – " Snatcher sputtered. "You will address me as 'Mr. Snatcher' – "

At the same time, Foulfellow was blabbering, "Now, I have many names and many variants thereof, but 'Johnny' is beyond the pale!"

"I'll give a short recap," Harley offered. "Romy here came to recruit you guys into the WHAM ARMY. Big ol' crime syndicate workin' across the worlds to take over everything! Kinda underdogs, though."

"No, I came here to recruit ONE guy into the WHAM ARMY," Roman seethed. "Not his girlfriend who I'm not convinced has the guts."

"We're hardly underdogs, at any rate," Snatcher volunteered.

"Uh, actually, no, that one's true, sweetheart," Roman muttered to him. "Have…you been paying attention or…?"

"We could, however, be persuaded to accommodate more than one recruit," Foulfellow spoke up. "If she proves she's worth her salt, that is."

"I am SO salty," Tawna replied.

"Don't make team decisions for me!" Roman snapped at Foulfellow.

"Hey, I ain't even decided if I wanna take the deal!" Pinstripe snapped back. "And I'm tellin' ya right now: no Tawny, no go! I walk and you'll be lucky if I don't leave a spray of lead behind me!"

"Far be it from us to separate a loving couple in crime, of course," Snatcher said sweetly.

"Okay, fine," Roman sighed. "I'm going to assume she's up to snuff. Anyway – "

"Anyway, we were about to get to my counteroffer," Pinstripe told him. "We can go on your heist. I got a place in mind. But first, youse guys gotta prove to me you've got what it takes!"

"The heist won't be proof enough?" Roman sighed.

"All you's gotta do is win a little…contest against me," Pinstripe said slyly. "Me and Tawny, that is. All it takes is for one of ya to win big. Show me what you're really about."

"Ooooh, are you thinking what I think you're thinking?" Tawna squealed.

"You know what?" Roman told him. "You name the game! Because the WHAM ARMY doesn't back down from the challenge."

"We rise to all occasions!" Snatcher cheered. "Provide an occasion and rise we shall!"

"I just think playin' a game sounds fun," Harley said with a shrug.

"I…suppose I'm along for this ride," Foulfellow sighed.

Gideon was trying to dislodge some of the crystals from the wall.

"I like your moxie!" Pinstripe laughed. "Maybe this could work out after all. Provided ya beat me, of course. It'll be five against two. Only one of you's gotta win."

"What manner of competition did you have in mind?" Foulfellow asked. "Oh, I do so hope it isn't card games of skill and strategy! I haven't won one to date!"

Pinstripe sighed. "That's the cheapest tactic in the world to get me to pick your favorite game. Y'know that?"

"I suppose it was a long shot to expect that to work on a similarly cunning mind…" Foufellow sighed.

"Nah, what I got in mind is…" Pinstripe leered. "A race. Winner take all. On my PERSONAL track. Got it linked two Warp Rooms up."

"Deal!" Roman said. "No offense, but you look like you've skipped every single leg day. Now, your girlfriend might be a stronger runner, but trust me, I've still got this in the – "

"Did I say runnin'?" Pinstripe interrupted. "No! You's gonna be racin' KARTS! Drivin, the old vroom-vroom! And no takebacks now that you said 'deal'!"

"Well, that's no problem!" Harley said cheerily. "All of us are great drivers! Well, I am, but no way you four ain't! Right, Romy?"

Silence.

"Right…?" Harley urged.

Roman buried his head in both hands and screamed "FUCK!"

...

Far north of Atlantica, past a land where dinosaurs roamed the earth again in secret, there was erected a fortress of ice, all peaks and glimmer. The path inside was a canal through freezing water, as it was built for the aquatic.

This was the lair of the sea witch Morgana. She'd never experienced the clout that her sister Ursula had. In fact, Ursula's dominance was the reason she stayed confined to this hidden fortress, because Ursula had made it quite clear that showing her face would have consequences. Morgana knew all too well that as it stood, Ursula had more magic than her, especially now that she was meddling with inter-world Darkness. How annoying.

She had a plan, however. For all Ursula boasted, she still hadn't been able to hold onto the one thing she'd schemed for so long to acquire: Triton's trident. The possession of which would give anyone ownership of the seven seas, total control. If Morgana could just scheme a way to get that trident into her own hands, then she could finally outdo Ursula, come out of hiding, and hear Ursula finally say she was a great witch!

Of course, she couldn't do much about the trident from where she stood. It could only be removed by a blood descendant of Triton, so it wasn't like Morgana could just quickly steal it and be on her merry way. Coming out of hiding for long enough to manipulate the girl would risk attracting Ursula's attention, and then it would be back to time-out. Or worse. Ursula did so love turning her victims into Heartless these days.

But all hope was not lost! For that day, Morgana received a special visitor. A certain villain of purple coloration, speaking of the need for conquest and getting paid dues. Someone who was willing to help Morgana by striking a deal. A rather flamboyant sort who Morgana viewed as her ticket out of this mess.

She leaned back on a makeshift throne carved to look like a curving shell, her long and slender frame tapering out to the tentacles that spilled gracefully at the end. Looking in the ice that surrounded her like a gallery of mirrors, she could see that aside from being an octopin, she could hardly have looked more different than Ursula. Definitely not the beautiful, voluptuous, confident violet-hued witch who'd been traversing the worlds. No, Morgana looked emaciated by comparison, her skin a sickly green color. Why did Ursula have to get all the looks?

She returned her attention to the egocentric purple visitor before her. "So let me get this straight," she said. "You'll convince Ariel to pick up the trident in exchange for…what again?"

The purple lobster who wore only a blue spiral shell as a hat leered at her. "I just want somethin' to take over, see. All this time spent and I still got nothin' to show for it! I need territory, I need bragging rights, I need…things! That's what it's all about, see, getting things!"

(Were you expecting a different purple villain?)

Morgana rolled her eyes at the Lobster Mobster's demand. Then again, it worked incredibly in her favor. "All right. I suppose I have a little something in my bag of tricks that can help you get these 'things' you so desire…"

She rummaged in an icy storage cabinet, retrieving a particular bottle. "This bottle, used to store a compound of incredible magic power, in exchange for your help!"

The Lobster Mobster clacked his claws toward her; "Gimme, gimme!"

She slid the bottle across the ice toward him. He picked it up with a claw, eagerly prying the cork out. His ever-present and ever-naïve sidekick, Shrimp, floated in the water just behind him, halfway above the surface, and he leaned forward to see what was in the special bottle.

The Lobster Mobster held the bottle up to his eye, turning it completely upside down. "Hey! This thing's empty!"

"And now you've taken over the bottle!" Morgana told him gleefully. "You wanted a thing. That's a thing. It's all yours now. Which means you can help me with MY end of the deal."

"No fair!" the Lobster Mobster protested.

"Actually," Shrimp pointed out, "that one's on you, boss. You just said you wanted to take over somethin'. You never said what, and that set the bar pretty low if you ask me – "

The Lobster Mobster removed his shell-hat, using it to whack Shrimp with a cry of "SHUUUUUT UUUUUUUUP!"

This got the attention of a pair of rays floating nearby: Cloak and Dagger, two of Morgana's entourage. They gave hissing laughs of condescension.

"Of course, if you don't like that deal, we could talk about my counter-offer," Morgana said. "You two lovely gentlemen help me out…and Undertow goes hungry."

From behind the Lobster Mobster and Shrimp, there was a disturbance. A massive tiger shark breached the canal, chuckling. "Oh, I LOVE a good lobster dinner!" Undertow said with a massive sharp-toothed leer. "Too bad there's only one shrimp, though!"

"You know what?" the Lobster Mobster said nervously. "Actually, that sounds like a great idea! We'll help you out for free! We're always willing to pitch in for a fellow connoisseur of crime – ain't that right, Shrimp?"

"Please don't eat us," Shrimp said flatly.

Morgana threw her hands in the air, letting out a joyous laugh. "This is the ticket! Morgana's gonna be BACK ON TOP!" She then gave her new employees a look. "You'll get a cut of it, you know. Mostly because I know you won't shut up until you do."

"And we're grateful for your kindness, see," the Lobster Mobster replied with a bow.

"You sure about this, Morgana?" Undertow asked skeptically. "These two losers?"

"Hey, we're standin' right here, see!" the Lobster Mobster reminded him.

"You're countin' on these half-wits to get Triton's trident?" Undertow scoffed. "I wouldn't trust 'em to get us a sand dollar!"

"Well, it's not like anything better is coming along!" Morgana snapped.

The Lobster Mobster was about to reiterate that he was indeed standing right there, but at that very moment, everyone's attention was drawn by the new entity that appeared. A swan boat, gliding gracefully down the canal into Morgana's reception chamber. Five humans seated in it.

At its helm, Yzma grinned. "You wouldn't happen to be looking for someone to help your dreams become reality, would you?"

Morgana, wide-eyed stared at the boat. Humans didn't normally do this. Well, to be fair, the only person who'd made the journey to help Morgana these days was the Lobster Mobster, dragging Shrimp along. But humans definitely didn't go out of their way to help octopins.

She pointed at the boat. "You. Keep talking."

The boat docked. Yzma, Wuya, Mera, Indus, and Prisma disembarked onto the ice. "You and I share certain similarities, you know," Yzma told Morgana. "Denied our true potential, banished by an upstart, waiting to unleash what we're truly capable of upon the worlds!"

Morgana liked where this was going. "I definitely agree all of that's me these days."

"What would you say if I told you we'd already found a way to take what we deserve?" Yzma went on. "A series of islands ripe for the taking. We've already completed step one in their domination, but for the next phase, we'll need something a little…more. Something a little more…sharp and pointy with three prongs. And the right person to wield it."

"The trident!" Morgana gasped. "You want the trident all to yourselves!"

"None of us is the right person to wield it," Yzma told her. "I was hoping you would do the honors. After all, we really have so much in common. If we sat down for coffee, we'd probably be there for hours comparing stories."

"Oh, and also," Wuya broke in, "we know you wanted to conquer these oceans first thing if you got ahold of the trident. That's not necessarily an incompatible goal with what we want."

"Nice place, by the way," Mera said. "Like a hall of mirrors."

"It's gorgeous!" Prisma gushed. "Like it's made out of crystals!" She scowled. "Could be warmer, though…"

"So let me see if I have this in order," Morgana said. "You want me to wield the trident in order to help you take over this world AND whatever it is you're going after. And in return, I get…to wield the trident and take over this world?" She blinked. "This sounds too good to be true."

"WAY too good to be true!" Undertow agreed. "I wouldn't trust this as far as I could bite into that boat!"

"You have a pretty big mouth, though," Mera told him. "So that's a lot of trust right there."

"She means that in a good way," Prisma assured. "All the best conquerors have big mouths. But anyway, if you think you're too good for our offer, you'll leave me no choice."

Quickly, her hands moved, extracting several items from a bag and throwing them at Morgana's feet. They glittered and glowed, a rainbow of light.

"CRYSTALS!" Prisma said with glee. "Made with the magic from the Mystic Isles! Each one with its own unique power!"

"Ooooh!" Morgana's eyes widened. She leaned over to pick up a green, shimmering crystal. "What's this one do?"

"I don't know," Prisma huffed. "I just made them and I set them to unique. It's not like I care WHAT they do, so long as they're powerful!"

"Hmm…" Morgana tapped the crystal. It beamed brightly. Then a full-length mirror manifested in front of her. Morgana rose, beginning to pose before it. "Indulging in vanity? Now, I could work with this."

She scowled. "Mirrors always treated Ursula better than me," she grumbled.

"Sisters are the worst!" Prisma agreed. "You should really make a plan to get rid of her. I just got rid of my awful sister, and for ONCE, I'm seen for as amazing as I really am!"

"You have sister issues too?" Morgana realized. "Did she…make you feel like you were worthless until she said you were worth something?"

"You don't know the half of it," Prisma huffed. "But I eventually figured out she was NEVER going to say that, so I had her encounter a little…horrible fate." She giggled. "I'd be very happy to help you out with your sister, too."

Morgana greedily scooped up the crystals. "You've got yourself a deal," she said. "So long as you actually help me GET the trident, of course."

"That'll be the easy part," Wuya told her. "Trust me."

"Are you sure about that?" Morgana countered. "Because the trident's magic means only a blood descendant of Triton can remove it from its resting place. Meaning we'll have to rely on that redheaded ditz to fall for our excuses why she needs to turn it over to us. She'll be a tough nut to crack."

"I mean, does it need to be Ariel?" Wuya posed. "Why not one of her other six sisters?"

Morgana's eyes widened. "Other…six…sisters?"

"…You knew Triton had seven daughters, right?" Wuya sighed.

"EVERYONE knew that!" yelled Yzma, who up until that very moment had also thought he'd just had the one.

"How easy to manipulate are they?" Morgana asked.

"Easier than the redhead," Wuya replied. "All we have to do is find their weaknesses and strike at whichever one's weakest."

Undertow gave a barking laugh. "You – YOU THOUGHT TRITON JUST HAD ONE DAUGHTER! AAA-HAHAHAHAAAA!"

"Stop laughing at me!" Morgana spat.

"It is all right!" Indus assured her. "I do very stupid things all the time. Like not wearing a shirt to polar climates!" A pause. "I am very cold right now."

"I'll get my last reserves of Ursula's magic," Morgana said with glee. "It should stretch far enough to turn you all into merfolk…"

"No need." Yzma flipped a bottle of pink liquid into her hand. "Already got one."

"HOW?" Morgana gaped.

"Ursula's not the only one handy with potions," Yzma replied slyly.

Morgana broke into shudders of laughter. "YES!" she cried. "THIS TIME, MORGANA'S REALLY GONNA BE BACK ON TOP!"

"Ah-HEM," interrupted the Lobster Mobster, who'd been watching this all take place. "What about me? Don't I got anywheres in this plan? I came all the way here to this freezin' ice palace and I ain't leavin' empty-clawed!"

Yzma thought it over. "Eh, we could use the extra resources. Fine, come along on a trial basis." She leaned over to Wuya to whisper; "If he fails us, we'll at least be eating lobster for one night of fine dining."

"Definitely enough of him to go around, too," Wuya whispered back.

"And what do I get outta the deal?" the Lobster Mobster spat. "It better be somethin' good! Somethin'…worth takin' over."

"How about an island on the Mystic Isles?" Prisma asked him. "There are plenty of aquatic ones. Mermaids, krakens, fin-folk, take your pick. You can be the king of the whole island, and thanks to my crystal manufactory, I'll make sure all your subjects are so weak, they can't even rise up against you!"

"Now THAT sounds like some choice territory," the Lobster Mobster said with a grin. "Count me in, sweetheart."

"Whaddaya know!" Shrimp commented. "That's WAY bigger than an empty bottle."

Mera shuffled over to Morgana, quickly as she could in wedge heels on ice, and muttered to her, "You'll get way more islands than he does. Trust me, there are a lot of islands."

"It's only what's fair," Morgana replied with a grin.

"Well, what're we waitin' for?" Undertow cackled. "Next stop, trident city!"

"I'm pretty sure it's called 'Atlantica,'" Shrimp pointed out.

That earned him another smack with the hat.

...

Monster High was a school both like every other and unlike any other. It served as a refuge for the teenage offspring of monsters to get an education and form communal bonds without being interrupted by the general anti-monster sentiment among the humans of the world. It didn't matter how many vampires went vegetarian, how many werewolves were sweet as puppies – it seemed humans were dead set on hating whatever was different.

Of course, that had been helped along by certain paranormal hunters who spread propaganda to stir the pot and give themselves careers. The descendant of one of them had even been forced to see the truth and change her tune on a prior Halloween, when one and only one town of normal humans became aware of Monster High's existence.

But that's another story.

Aside from the unusual races and even species of the kids who rushed from class to class, it shared a lot in common with your average human high school. Cliques formed, friendships were forged, bullies rose and were eventually quelled by the cycle of popularity. However, one might argue that Monster High was a lot friendlier than your average human high school. After all, the monsters within all shared a common bond: that of being different, of having to learn pride and self-love in the face of a world that hated them. Even the school bullies and snobs were part of the community, and they eventually found friends among each other.

There were only two students who were ostracized completely. One of whom was technically not a student, but was a teenage monster who was on school grounds during class hours, so it may as well all have been the same.

Looking around the Creepateria during lunchtime, you could see it. Tables that thronged with large groups of friends, talking about the latest fashions or the more difficult lessons of the curriculum. Then, off in the corner, the lonely two. They weren't pariahs for no reason, of course. Everyone in Monster High was a monster in the literal sense, but these two were the only ones who everyone else considered a monster in the metaphorical sense as well.

But you tend to get that reputation after you've attempted to seduce and brainwash classmates in order to collect their broken hearts. Or if you've gone on a spree replacing people with shadow doubles that follow your every command so that the school would be the beginning of your ruling of the world. Guess what these two teenagers had done.

The girl, the one who was technically not a student, pulled forth her thick blue-and-pink braid to fiddle with a strand. Currently, it was very deep blue and very shocking pink, and her skin was a peach color. Not her favorite look. She was dressed in a crop top, a pair of baggy pants, and pointy-toed shoes, all in various shades of pink and blue. "Just so we're clear," she said as she twirled the strand of hair, "you're not going to mess up tonight."

Her partner in dining, a boy with somewhat long dark hair shot through with red strands, leaned back and laughed, open-mouthed so the girl could see his fangs. He was clothed in quite different attire: a suit of dark magenta and red, embellished with embroidered roses and a frilly cravat. "Me, mess up?" he said in a deep, sultry Southern accent. "Darlin', I'm not the one whose wishes have kept backfirin' at every turn."

The girl rolled her eyes. Djinni Grant – who really preferred to go by the nickname of "Whisp" – was in fact a genie, able to grant thirteen wishes to the finder of her lantern. The boy, Kieran Valentine (though he preferred his surname to his first name by a long shot), was her current finder, and therefore the one in charge of the wishes. "I don't mess them up on purpose," she hissed. "Wishes backfire by nature. That's how it's always worked. Even when goody-goody Gigi was in charge. And I managed one for you, didn't I?"

"I'm just sayin' that if we're relyin' on your power for this," Valentine told her, "you might wanna have a contingency plan or two in place. After all, this is your night. Wouldn't wanna ruin it with shoddy magic."

Whisp picked up a French fry from her plate and flicked it at him. "You stink."

"Not anymore, thanks to you," Valentine said with a grin. "Listen. I know what I'm supposed to say and when I'm supposed to say it. I'm not gonna be responsible for this night goin' sour. As far as I'm concerned…you don't have anything to worry that pretty little head about."

"We won't have to worry about anything on my end," Whisp replied. "Trust me. If there's any wish that won't backfire on me, it's this one."

"Think you'll be wearin' the crown when it happens?"

"No. I wish."

"Hardly any monster deserves it more than you or me. I wish – "

Whisp shot across the table and slapped both hands over Valentine's mouth. "DON'T," she hissed. "Do NOT waste any of the final two on that."

Valentine realized his mistake. Even casually mentioning something you "wished" would happen counted as a command to the genie of the lantern. Whisp backed down, and Valentine kept quiet.

That was when three monsters who Valentine and Whisp had never seen before suddenly sat down at their table. A goblin girl, her face distorted and fanged, with a long mane of purple hair. A boy with patches of scale on his skin, looking as though he was unsure what he was doing. A Reaper with a purple highlight in her blonde hair, probably too young to be there.

"This will do just perfectly!" said the goblin – who was, in fact, not a teenager at all, but Mad Madam Mim. "If these seats aren't taken, of course. Then again, when has that ever stopped me?" She chuckled.

Whisp and Valentine stared at her like they were being aimed at with silver bullets. "Do you…know who we are?" Whisp asked.

"Of course!" Mim chirped. "You're Djinni Grant and Kieran Valentine."

They both cringed. "Just 'Valentine' will do," Valentine corrected. "Or 'Val,' if it strikes your fancy."

"Call me Whisp," Whisp said. "Like the dark temptations that whisper into your soul."

"Surely you know that we're not the most popular students here," Valentine said warily.

"Oh, of course not," Mim went on.

"We're sitting here because we just feel bad for you," Coco sighed. "Totes pathetic."

Letheo looked around the table awkwardly, not sure what part he was supposed to play here. He put up a hand; "Hi."

Valentine stared at him, mortified, for just a little too long before quickly turning his sights to Mim. "Well, in that case, a lovely lady like yourself should know there's nothing to fear."

"Cut it out, Val," Whisp snapped.

"Ah, yes," Mim said with a flattered giggle. "I'd wondered if the two of you had…turned over a new leaf. After those fiascos."

"Lesson learned, sweetheart," Valentine said. "After all – "

"I tried it," Whisp interrupted. "I was actually committed to it, you know. I thought maybe having real friends would reduce my need for shadow slaves to follow my every command. Of course, that was before they THREW MY LANTERN INTO THE POOL!"

"That's a petty reason to go back to evil," Coco said.

"Right," Whisp realized. "You're new here. The pool at Monster High is bottomless, and actually connects TO THE DEPTHS OF THE OCEAN!" Her eyes were wide with rage.

"Now, now." Valentine put up a hand, gently waving it to signal her to be calm. "Simmer down. I found you, and you're safe up here."

"You two seem like good friends," Letheo observed.

"You could say Val is my 'bestie,'" Whisp confirmed as Valentine once again looked everywhere but at Letheo. "We have a certain…understanding."

"Of that redemption arc you totes went through?" Coco said slyly.

"Why, yes – " Valentine attempted.

"No," Whisp said flatly. "Regardless of Val's feelings, I'm still angry. The whole thing isn't going to matter for much longer. Just go away and let us be hated in peace."

Valentine made a dramatic gasp; "I can assure you I don't know what she's talkin' about! I am reformed to the core, a true romantic, an emotional vampire who cares not for his own cravings of love and desire but who instead has gone cold turkey for the people – "

"Oh, well, that's too bad," Mim told him. "We were only interested if you were both still rotten to the core. Guess we were wrong!" She rose, taking her tray with her.

Valentine was also standing in a snap, seizing her wrist. "Now, now…I'm a little curious what exactly you mean by that."

"Just call it…us wanting to know you better," Coco said with a smirk.

"We actually have our own evil plan," Letheo blurted, "and we want you to join up with – "

Coco elbowed him hard in the solar plexus. "DUMMY!"

Letheo winced as he sat back down, holding his gut where he'd been prodded.

"Evil plan, huh?" Whisp leaned forward, elbows on the table and head in her hands. "Tell me more."

"Oh, but I couldn't!" Mim sighed. "Not if you weren't both open to the idea. See, recruiting anyone reformed, or anyone friends with someone reformed, just wouldn't work with the group of despicable people I've brought together to be best friends and co-workers who won't judge one another for their desires for power. It really is quite a close-knit group of people who have very few standards if at all, you see. But – "

"You're saying you can get us REAL friends?" Whisp yelled.

Valentine dropped to a whisper; "Just between you and me, darlin'…I might not be as past collectin' hearts to sap their emotions as you thought."

Mim sat back down. "That's what I thought. Now let's talk business. First things first, I'm actually three hundred years old and a very old woman at that. This is just a disguise to get past the faculty."

Valentine cringed. "Hon, warn a fella before he starts flirtin'."

Mim then delivered an abridged WHAM ARMY history, enough to quickly tell over a lunch period. Giving special attention to the fact that they were currently down four people in their team thanks to Amora the Enchantress.

Valentine realized it, smirking proudly. "And you realized the best way to fight a love enchantress is with an emotional vampire. Breakin' her spell will be easy, goddess or no. All I gotta do is make her fall under mine."

"I mean, this is great and all," Whisp sighed, "but not exactly going to work out wth our own plans."

"What plans?" Letheo asked.

"Val," Coco said, "YRU always so nervous whenever Letheo talks?"

"I'm not," Valentine sputtered, his entire accent completely dropping and his voice cracking as he fixated on the floor.

"…He and I need to have a talk later, apparently," Whisp sighed. "Bestie stuff. You know. Anyway, I'm currently not in tip-top shape. I had more power as a shadow than I do as a genie, since I'm bound by the rules of the lantern. I'm starting to think I want the shadow back. Valentine is my finder, and therefore the holder of the thirteen wishes. He's made eleven."

"What did you wish for?" Letheo asked him.

Valentine bit his lip hard with both fangs and didn't answer.

"First of all, to get rid of the eternal B.O. he was cursed with," Whisp said.

"There's Eternal Stench here?" Mim's eyes were wide. "I've only seen it in the goblin realm…I could use a bottle or two of it. You never know when it could stink up someone's day wonderfully!"

"I can give you a map of the Catacombs," Whisp assured. "Anyway, since then, Val made five other wishes for things he wanted…and five wishes to completely undo them. See, there's a catch – "

"Her wishes backfire," Valentine said flatly, frustratedly. "Nothin' comes without strings. I asked to be popular; my whole personality was rewritten to be more subtle, more meek. Couldn't have that. So I wished to be me again, and no more friends except for Whisp. I wished for a few particular gals to fall for me without the limitations of my own hypnotic abilities. They became so ferocious that I abandoned the idea of takin' their hearts. It was more likely they'd rip out mine first."

Coco rolled her eyes. "Yanderes."

"And same with every other wish," Valentine said. "The bigger the wish, the bigger the backfire. The only one that hasn't has been the scent, and even then, the side effect is bizarre."

Letheo sensed it. He leaned in closer over Valentine, causing the latter to lean away and blush, wide-eyed. Letheo sniffed; "Smells like chocolate-covered strawberries and cotton candy. Reminds me of Babilonium."

"B…back off." Valentine used a hand to very lightly shove at Letheo.

"Sit down!" Coco pulled Letheo back into his designated seat. "Creep."

"The only way I could get him to not literally stink was to make him smell like something else," Whisp affirmed. "Even I can't predict what the side effect of the wishes would actually be. I'd wanted to save the last one for something special, but we've agreed to put aside number twelve as a backup instead of wasting it."

"So you're saying," Mim realized, "that if I were to have Valentine wish right now that the WHAM ARMY ruled all worlds with a centralized capital in Atlantis and had all of our recruits populating the city…"

"Don't wish for that," Whisp said flatly. "Just don't. A wish that big could only end horribly. You want something like that, you'll have to work for it."

"So what r u wishing for that you think will actually work with that last one?" Coco asked.

Whisp lowered her voice. "When I was a shadow genie," she said, a mischievous smirk upon her lips, "there was a solar eclipse that only happened once every thousand years. Solar eclipses give shadows power. I would always try and convince Gigi's finder to wish all power to me at the height of the eclipse, which would have made me…well, all-powerful. Of course, now that I'm no longer a shadow genie, wishing me power has a different set of rules, and luckily, I won't have to wait another millennium for the next eclipse. All I need is Valentine's cooperation and the blood moon that will hang over tonight's Homecoming dance. That moon is what will give me the power."

"And once that moon is good and red," Valentine confirmed, "I wish her free of the lantern and all its rules. No addendums."

"The backfire will moreso be on everyone else, not me," Whisp said with a smirk. "Which is going to be especially fun because – you don't know how Homecoming around here works, right?"

Mim, Letheo, and Coco shook their heads.

"We recently made peace with a human town," Whisp explained. "Soooo, in the spirit of 'coming home,' we've decided to invite all the normies from THAT school over to THIS one for the dance. Blend humans and monsters, you know. They'll pick two for Homecoming royalty: a monster and a normie. Gender irrelevant. Actually, the funny thing is that the blood moon will be in peak position at the exact moment they crown the royals. Too bad I'd never get voted in as queen, or else this would be extra delicious."

"Well, that's where we come in!" Mim crowed. "All we have to do is stuff the ballot box!"

Suddenly nervous, Letheo hissed, "We can't spend that much time here!"

"Why not?" Mim asked. "It's not like our men are going anywhere. Amora loves toying with them too much to discard them. And we have Death Bombs in case Loki makes her."

"No," Letheo whispered. "All the thuaz…Lord Carrion has it. By the time the moon rises…I'll be…" He trembled. "I'll transform. It will hurt. If we wait for the blood moon, I could become entirely…what I was when you found me."

"And?" Mim pressed. "What's wrong with that?"

"I could lose control," Letheo told her. "I could…ruin things…"

"Sounds like fun!" Mim chirped. "You'll just have to grin and bear it. After all, it'll do us much better to take along a free genie than one who can't do evil and only grants thirteen wishes."

"Totes," Coco agreed.

"But – but – " Letheo sputtered. "I'll become even more of a monster than I am now!"

Valentine cleared his throat. "You realize that's…not a concern around here. And once we make our wish, you'll have free reign to go as wild as you please. It'd…probably do some people good, if you were a bit less good-lookin'."

Whisp scowled at Valentine. "I think we need to talk. Alone."

"No, we do NOT," Valentine argued.

"Well, the three of us have to shop for Homecoming formal wear anyway." Mim rose, and Coco did with her. Letheo then stood shakily. "Let's go find something dreadfully ugly!"

"Or super-duper kyoot," Coco ventured. "With pastels!"

"…Okay," Letheo muttered.

The three left, making a beeline right off school grounds and into the surrounding monster town.

That left Valentine to dodge Whisp's accusatory stare. He eventually ventured, "I don't know why you're lookin' at me like that."

"Val," Whisp sighed, "when are you going to give up the stupid act? You know you'd be so much happier if you were putting your charms where you WANT to put them."

"Where I want to put them is…well…there's no gal here who'd trust me that far, so I guess I'm waitin'. Mim's far too old, Coco's too young – "

"Get out of the closet," Whisp snapped. "You have that same look on your face whenever you see a cute boy and don't know how to handle it. Even I can see he's cute, and I don't date boys."

"Whisp," Valentine sighed, "we really have beaten this topic to undeath. I've told you before. I've got no problem with the concept of bein' gay. After all, I don't question you and your exclusive love of girls. The same girls whose hearts I wish to harvest. I, however, am not."

"You don't like girls!" Whisp hissed. "You like collecting hearts and playing games to get them! You spend more time checking heart statistics than actually flirting every time there's a new girl!"

"I have been around for sixteen hundred years, Whisp, and if I were gay – "

"You wouldn't know it at all," Whisp told him, "because sixteen hundred years ago, vampires were so traditional that it wasn't even an option for you to think about."

The Southern accent dropped again, Valentine's voice cracking. "Whiiiiisp! Emotional vampires don't – we don't – we get our power from the opposite gender! Maybe it doesn't matter for genies, but emotional vampires just aren't gay!"

"It doesn't work like that!" Whisp argued. "But let's get back to the point. Are you really happy NOT being able to use your dumb pickup lines on the lizard cutie?"

"My pickup lines are not – "

"You're so hot, for a minute, I thought a dragon breathed you out!" Whisp mocked. "I'd compare your pretty face to the Moan-a Lisa, but the painting can't even compete!"

"…Stop."

"WHEN are you going to let yourself be happy?" Whisp groaned. "Is this really what you want? To clam up whenever you start feeling something around someone you think you shouldn't?"

"…It's not who I am," Valentine replied. "I just have to…remember who I am, and everything will go back to how it was."

Whisp sighed. "Just…whenever you come around, you know I'm here for you. I'll drop it. But whatever happens, you're still my finder and my bestie."

"I appreciate it, but there's really no need for concern." The accent was back and he was laying it on thick. "Letheo there is just a friend of ours now. Everything will be normal at the dance."

"Finally," Whisp sighed. "We're going to have real friends! Not that you aren't enough, buuuuut…"

"No, I get it," Valentine told her. "We're still alone together. If they're tellin' the truth…then all that's about to change."

...

"Welcome to Nergal's Pizza, friends and family!" Noodle Burger Boy cheered. "Lemme guess: you're here for the Vexen Replica Special!"

The looks that met him from Vexen, Deymos, Tsumugi, skekSil, Simon, Vincent, Victor, and Albert were less than amused. Xerxes, however, laughed; "Vexen Replica special."

They stood outside the building, eyeing it up. "Small place," Deymos noted. "We should just be able to get in, get the girl, get out. No big."

Noodle Burger Boy gave a thumbs-up. "Just let me know if you need help from your local Noodle Burger Boy!"

"No," Vexen said curtly as he pushed past the robot to enter the pizza joint.

Once the group was inside, they were greeted by Nergal's smiling face. "Welcome, friends!" he said in a tone that annoyed them even more than Noodle Burger Boy's rendition. "Shall I get you seated?" He held up a hand. "Don't tell me. I know who here is…together." He winked at the group. Then seized Deymos and Vexen by a forearm each, dragging them toward a booth; "What a happy couple on a joyous day!"

"WE ARE NOT – " Vexen attempted before they were both thrown roughly into the booth.

"Eheh…yeah, imagine that," Deymos laughed nervously. "Wouldn't that just be…weird, yeah."

As Nergal returned, Vincent and Victor immediately grabbed onto each other and glared at him. He got the message right away that they were romantically involved.

"Of course, of course," he said to them. "Though I know you wouldn't want to be without your other partner in crime either! You don't often see three these days. I think it's just so beautiful how much love some people have to give…"

"Three?" Vincent repeated, not liking where this was going.

He and Victor were thrown into a booth along with Albert.

"I swear I had nothing to do with this," Albert said as they all sat up.

"Why WOULD you?" Vincent snapped as Victor chuckled.

Vexen watched like a hawk as Tsumugi, Simon, skekSil, and Xerxes were shuffled to the friend zone (a series of tables beneath a neon light that read "FRIEND ZONE"). He glanced over to see Victor laying his head seductively on Vincent's shoulder as Albert rattled off still more fish facts. Nergal returned to the kitchen, having a very important call with new supplier Happy Meat Farm over pizza ingredients.

"You gonna order anything while we're here?" Deymos flipped through the pages. "Personally, I could go for a – "

"SHSHSHHHHH!" Vexen hissed. "There! It's HER!"

Which he really didn't need to do, because Xion walked right up to his table. "Can I take your order?" she asked pleasantly.

"Yeah, I'll have a deep-dish Hawaiian," Deymos told her. "…Does that item even make sense to people here? There's no Hawaii."

Xion flinched as she looked him over. He looked a lot like the person who'd kidnapped her and stuffed her in a bag. But there was no way that person would just walk in here and make nice with her…right? It had to be someone who just looked similar. Gingerly, she jotted down the order. "What about you?"

"Trust me," Vexen told her. "I already have everything I need. …Though an ice water wouldn't be unwelcome."

"Okay." Xion scribbled it down. "Back in a flash." She left for the kitchen.

"Ice water?" Deymos repeated. "Seriously? You know we can just make that ourselves with our own magic, right? By the way, interesting that you can really combine our powers so easily like tha – "

Vexen had risen from the table.

"Wha – whoa! Vex, you are NOT just gonna walk up to her and – "

"Watch me." Vexen stalked into the kitchen.

Deymos rolled his eyes. "Guess subtlety's out. And here I thought he was a recon guy."

Xion placed the ticket for the order. Sis and Junior started working on it; Xion went back to the dish room to load some plates before returning to the floor. Vexen followed her into the secluded space.

The hissing of the dish machine's steam camouflaged his footsteps. Xion turned to gasp in surprise; "You can't be in this area!"

Vexen's arm shot out. He grabbed her by the forearm. "It's you who shouldn't be here," he hissed. "And I'm taking you back to where you belong."

She gave a sharp cry. Her mind went to her armor carapace, her Keyblade…

But then she stopped, looking her abductor dead in the eye. She knew him. How did she know him? Who was he?

No time! She had to fight!

There was a tap on Vexen's shoulder. "Excuse me," Nergal said politely. "Please don't abduct my employees or family members."

Vexen gave a surprised "WHAT?"

A jet-black tentacle wrapped around his wrist, where he held onto Xion. He watched as his skin there turned equally black, as if diseased.

The next thing he knew, he was outside the pizza place, staring into the distance. His skin clear and pale. Completely unaware that he'd walked out there himself.

After dismissing Vexen, Nergal looked to Xion with concern. "Any idea what that was all about?"
"I…I know him somehow," Xion replied. "It must be from my lost memories. Maybe he was just trying to help me, but…I'm afraid…I think he doesn't mean well…"

"I'll keep an eye on it," Nergal told her, laying a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "After all, no one toys with my family."

Then, remembering the table setup, he quickly walked out to where Deymos was awaiting his pizza, fingers drumming an idle rhythm. "I think you should leave," Nergal said with a mile-wide grin, tentacles protruding from his back.

"Why?" Deymos asked.

And then he was also outside, staring into space, just coming back to reality. "Wha – how did I get here?"

"I am attempting to figure that out for myself," Vexen huffed.

"You?" Deymos flinched. "You LEFT! I saw you! I thought you knew what you were doing!"

"The last thing I remember was being accosted by the proprietor in the kitchen!"

"Yeah, well, the last thing I remember is the guy bothering me at my table and – " Realization set in. "Oh."

Nergal skidded back up to the phone. "My apologies! Now, where were we? …Oh, no, we won't be needing a shipment of the long pork. Given the clientele I serve, it just isn't in demand, you see. However, if you've got any regular pork that didn't pass experiment standards and was marked for termination, ship it on over and I'll find some part of it that's edible. …No face, you say! Surely you don't need that pig, then…"

Xion stopped before the table that held Vincent, Victor, and Albert. "What can I get for you?" she asked.

"Hmm…I hope you don't mind if I order for all of us," Victor said with a coy grin. "I think we're all in the mood for an acquired target and a hostage situation with a side of missing posters."

"After all," Vincent added, "I wouldn't be caught dead eating a pizza."

This time, Xion had the presence of mind to summon her Keyblade. In a blink, the three cyborgs surrounded her. Victor's arms shifted into dual energy-imbued blades, Albert called up a Dream Eater to flank him on either side, and a seam split on Vincent's face as he readied to expand at a moment's notice.

The battle could have been legendary, but the sound of a triple whip crack heralded the arrival of three tentacles from Nergal. Once again, they had barely enough time to notice the black patches on the exposed skin he'd caught before –

"When did we get outside?"

"I…I don't know…"

Nergal stepped out onto the dining floor. "EH-AHEM," he began. "IS THERE ANYONE ELSE HERE WHO WANTS TO ATTEMPT TO KIDNAP MY DAUGHTER AND BEST WAITRESS TODAY?"

After exchanging glances, Tsumugi, Simon, skekSil, and Xerxes all left their booth. Noodle Burger Boy lined up alongside them.

After Nergal's hypnotic power had made the first three all leave, Noodle Burger Boy kept going strong, firing a stream of pickles at Nergal. Tsumugi, equally inhuman, had taken on Scarlet Overkill's form so she could once again deal out a series of punishing roundhouse kicks. At first, Nergal just stood there and took the barrage with an "OW-ow-ow-OOF-ouch-ow-OUCH-oof!"

"Your little tricks won't work on us!" Noodle Burger Boy laughed. "We're all robot, no human whatsoever! No brain and no heart to corrupt! Hee hee! Hee hee!"

All while not noticing the tentacle that slunk up behind him. Then he did notice it, finally, and turned to stare at it. "What did I just say?" Noodle Burger Boy told it, eyes glowing red.

The tentacle whipped around Noodle Burger Boy and jolted him not with any of the magic from earlier, but with plain old electricity.

Tsumugi found herself faced with a few tentacles of her own. "This isn't going to be as pleasant as when it happened in my favorite R-rated manga, is it?"

Zap!

The burger bot stumbled drunkenly out of the pizza place, his battery all but depleted. "That guy's so stroooooong," he slurred. "I wish I could…extendy-bendy-shock people. It'd be so easy." He waggled his arms. "Woo, wooooo!"

Tsumugi wasn't far behind, tripping over her own feet. "I just wanted sexy tentacle time…someday my octo-prince will come…" Her own energy-deprived body was barely holding a standing position.

"Very…well," Vexen snarled. "Let's try this…AGAIN!"

He turned to begin a march back into the building, and his followers followed suit.

There was a rumble in the very earth. Then it split apart, a neat chasm all the way around Nergal's Pizza, filling with superhot magma that bubbled red-orange. Sigils of lightning crackled all over the building itself, interlocking like Venn diagrams, giving protective spells. A jet-black metal fence with Gothic-style spikes burst up through the crust of the road, surrounding the lava moat. There was one gate; a heavy metal bridge clanged down into place between it and the door to Nergal's Pizza. A swarm of tiny black demon-esque creatures hurried out to affix a sign to the gate:

ALL GUESTS WILL BE SCREENED BEFORE ENTERING

NO KIDNAPPERS ALLOWED

LEAVE MY FAMILY ALONE, YOU MISCREANTS!

"…We're dealing with some kind of god here, aren't we?" Deymos realized.

"An annoying one," Vincent seethed.

"I think it's cute that he loves his family," Tsumugi sighed, falling over to lie facedown on the street. "Isn't that cute? It's so cuuuuute."

"I think first things first, we need to get those two charged," Victor suggested. "They look worse than I do on a Saturday night."

"No, they don't," Vincent muttered. "At least neither of them has thrown up on my shoes."

Noodle Burger Boy then yelled "Good idea!" and let out a stream of pickles right onto Vincent's shoes.

"You were saying?" Victor said with a smirk.

"Must be some way we can get past," skekSil mused. "Perhaps befriending one of pizza god's inner circle. Then would have someone to pass screening – "

"And you think we could convince one of them to kidnap Xion?" Deymos scoffed. "Dream on."

"She's gotta leave that building sometime!" Simon growled.

"Do you see what we're working with here?" Deymos gestured once again at the bastion of pizza. "No way Papa Bear's letting her out of his sight for the next DECADE!"

"HOW could she have gotten herself adopted by a god?" Vexen sputtered. "It's improbable to the highest degree!"

"Well," Albert brought up, "when all else fails, we could simply find a way to overpower him. If you give me enough time and enough Dream Eaters – "

"Yeah," Xerxes agreed. "Need big monster!"

"And WHERE, precisely, are we going to get a monster that can overpower a god?" Vexen spat. "The only thing even remotely close to that on this world is the Aeons spread across the land!"

"Soooo…we get an Aeon?" Deymos shrugged. "Easy?"

"NOT easy!" Vexen countered. "The only way to acquire the help of an Aeon is to become a Summoner oneself! Take part in the pilgrimage across kingdoms that would normally use up the better part OF A YEAR! Even then, there are only two reported Aeons in all of history that could think to stand up to a god, presuming that's what we're even up against! One being the Final Aeon, which is all but debunked as ancient Zanarkandian propaganda, and the Lost Aeon of Baaj, which is so unreachable that by the time of my youth, Summoners had given up on reaching it altogether!"

"But it does exist is what you're saying," Deymos pointed out. "And if we had a Summoner on our side, someone who could do our bidding, we could rein it in."

Vexen eyed Deymos suspiciously. "Are you claiming to know better than me on this matter?"

"Literally I'm just parroting what you're saying back to you, but in a different way," Deymos said. "You're coming up with the idea. You just haven't figured out it's an idea yet."

Vexen was struck silent trying to figure out whether or not he should argue the point. It made him feel rather smug, actually. "Yes…" He'd calmed down considerably. "One who already has completed the pilgrimage, recruited to OUR side. Quite possible…in fact, history tells of one who disgraced the name of the profession and was banished to oblivion. If we could locate the famed Heretic Summoner, then perhaps we could convince him to work with us. As for the Lost Aeon itself…Baaj is a city of ruin that has sunk beneath the surface of the very earth. However, while many have tried and failed to reach it, none of those people have been WHAM ARMY. Yes, it is all taking shape now…this could be possible indeed…"

Deymos clapped his hands together. "Okay! So first things first, the Heretic Summoner guy!"

Vexen turned on a heel to stalk away. "I know where we can find public records to tell us his name. From there, it should be a simple task for two masters of reconnaissance to locate him."

"It would be an even simpler task for me to invade his dreams and pinpoint him that way, I might add," said Albert.

"Come!" Vexen commanded. "This is not over. We have much work to do!"

...

Hot Air Skyway was a golden racing track that had been suspended in the air with the use of several massive balloons and dirigibles, most of which with Pinstripe's face emblazoned upon them. From there, it was a grand loop-de-loop of giant playing cards, casino chips, gold embellishments, and accoutrements that spoke to this being the domain of a very flamboyant criminal. And all of it so high up, one could barely see the ground just by driving on the track and looking off the side.

The pink dawn of morning crested over the seven racers lined up, each in a distinctive go-kart. As Pinstripe, Tawna, Roman, Snatcher, Harley, Foulfellow, and Gideon revved their vehicles, a pair of mafioso potoroos in black suits danced atop vaulted platforms, setting the stage before they gave the signal.

"Just so you know," Roman told Pinstripe snidely, "this is really just a formality. You're about to eat WHAM ARMY dust."

"HEH!" Pinstripe cawed. "Put your money where your mouth is, then!"

The other gangsters struck a dramatic pose. Turned, aiming both their guns to the sky.

BANG!

With the dual pistol blast, three karts blasted off into perfect synchrony with the curvature of the track, fighting each other for first place, neck and neck and neck.

The first of these belonged to Pinstripe himself. A sleek, violet model called the "Deadinator," one that resembled one of the more opulent sports cars of the world. This was his territory, after all, and he'd driven it time after time. All the same, a few wide turns caused him to fall behind the other two karts, but he was hardly concerned.

After all, the second was Tawna's. A "Doom Buggy" of fat tires and Plexiglas, recently spray-painted alternating waves of pink and blue. She was a ruthless driver, tight on turns, her kart going up on two wheels if need be so she could cut time. Her eyes were trained on the track, calculating what she'd have to do for the next few twists and bends.

The third kart belonged to Harley. Black and red, in a diamond pattern. She was almost as vicious as Tawna, cranking the steering wheel to its limit. Her eyes scanned the track ahead, and she was the first of the newcomers to see that it diverted into a few obvious shortcuts. When Tawna skidded into one of those shortcut paths, Harley was close behind.

"This…could be a challenge, actually," Tawna mused as Harley gained on her.

Back at the starting line, there was a small pandemonium.

Snatcher's vehicle was bright red, with lines of ruby glitter that swirled. When the gunshots had gone off, he'd slammed the pedal and veered it straight into a wall, BANG. With a grumbly "No matter," he set the vehicle to reverse, slammed it again –

BANG. The rear bumper slammed the wall that bordered the other side of the track.

Another attempt to go forward crashed the front bumper into the first wall again. This was to continue for a while.

Gideon's kart had the distinct appearance of having been welded from a pile of stray tin cans. At the gunshot, he took off full speed. Backward. With no sign of slowing or correcting his mistake.

Foulfellow's vehicle was blue and olive green, and it was the first time he had been behind the wheel of any such contraption. After a few turns, however, his confidence ballooned. "Why, I do believe I'm getting the hang of this!" he whooped.

Which would've been more believable if he weren't just driving a tight circle right in front of the starting line, looping and looping and looping. Eventually, the loop just moved a few feet up the track –

Snatcher had finally pointed his kart forward. "And off we g – "

Foulfellow T-boned the kart and sent Snatcher careening right back into another wall.

Roman's kart was emblazoned with red-orange flames that practically seemed to burn the eye. He gave a sputtery start, then a couple of false advances, before finally flooring it. He veered to the left – ricocheting BANG off the wall – used it to bounce forward to the right – BANG off that wall – then BANG off Snatcher's kart ("LOVE YOU, SWEETHEART!"), and as he sent his lover's car into the wall again, Roman finally had the edge he needed to start catching up.

Harley and Tawna were locked in a duel for first place. Tawna would sneak ahead by a few inches, only to be bested by Harley in a matter of minutes.

Then Harley scowled, looking off to the side. "The heck is THAT?"

"Huh?" Tawna turned to see what Harley was beholding. Which seemed to be nothing.

She was distracted long enough for Harley to slam her car, pushing her behind as Harley got the edge and pulled further ahead.

"Hey, that was dirty!" Tawna laughed. "I LIKE your style!"

Roman's sheer recklessness was allowing him to gain on Pinstripe. Pinstripe caught sight of Roman over his shoulder, scowling. "So we got a speed demon, huh?" He reached into his glove box, where he kept only the absolute essentials.

He pulled from it a spherical black bomb with a burning fuse. "Beat THIS!" he yelled, chucking it over his shoulder.

Roman swerved hard, his car going up on the two right wheels to avoid the blast. When it finally settled on all fours, the kart kept steady, Roman now more determined than ever to take Pinstripe down.

"You know, I was ready to drive fair!" Roman yelled as his kart became level with Pinstripe's. "But after that move? NOT ANYMORE!"

He rammed his kart into Pinstripe's, enough to make the latter stutter. Pinstripe rammed Roman's kart right back, and for a moment, it became uncertain as to if this were a race or a duel.

"That does it!" Pinstripe brought out the machine gun.

"WHOA!" Roman yelled. "That is escalating things WAY too far – "

Pinstripe had stood, planting one shoe on his steering wheel to keep the kart going on the right path. With both hands, he aimed, he fired a rat-a-tat-tat of bullets –

And Roman's kart, all its tires deflated, ground to a halt on the track. Roman, of course, was fine – that had been Pinstripe's aim all along.

"Oh," Roman realized.

Pinstripe gave a raucous laugh of victory. "YOU WHAM ARMY JERKS AIN'T NOTHIN'!" he crowed. "NOW WATCH AS I – "

Being that he was so precariously steering with one foot and shifting the center of gravity of the whole kart by standing in it, Pinstripe wavered, as did his kart. He lost his balance with a "Whoa-ah-AAAAAH!", careening right to the edge of the track.

On a section that had no safety railings.

The kart went over. Pinstripe leapt for his life, fingers barely catching the edge of the track, as his vehicle plummeted. He kicked frantically, unable to pull himself up to sturdy ground.

"Well, well." Roman was suddenly standing over him, smirking down at him. "What have we here?"

"P-please!" Pinstripe stuttered. "You wouldn't just let me fall, would ya?"

"I dunno…" Roman mused. "After all, you did shoot out my tires, and insult me and my entourage…"

"Look," Pinstripe argued, "we might be bad guys, but you ain't a monster, now, are ya?"

Roman cocked an eyebrow.

"…Yeah, dumb question," Pinstripe realized.

"Here's what I think of your attitude toward me." Roman raised his Cudgel high, as though for a blow.

Pinstripe braced, ready to meet his end.

When the Cudgel flipped mid-descent, its hook snagging Pinstripe under the arm and flipping him up onto the track.

"It's no worse than mine," Roman teased. "And I might be a monster, but I look after my own."

"You…you…" Pinstripe panted. His stunned relief morphed into rage; "YOU NEARLY GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK!"

"And THAT is where I consider my revenge had," Roman told him.

Pinstripe stood, dusting himself off. "Well, it don't matter anyway," he chuckled. "Even with both of us outta commission, you still all lose! Because I know my gal, and if you look over my shoulder, you'll see where she's pullin' over the finish line in three…two…"

Roman could see the finish line, all right. "You miiiiiight wanna double-check that before you finish that sentence."

"Huh?" Pinstripe whipped around.

While Pinstripe and Roman had been dueling, Harley and Tawna had still been in fierce competition, in their cycle where one would pull ahead, then the other. It was anyone's race. Until –

"LOOK OUT!" Harley shrieked.

"Oh, I'm not falling for THAT again!" Tawna snapped.

Which meant she didn't see it coming when Gideon, still traveling the track entirely backward, rammed directly into her kart and sent it backward along with him.

Harley shrugged; "I tried to warn her!" Then she gunned it for the finish line. Thirty feet away, twenty feet away –

She zoomed across, throwing her fists in the air and holding the steering wheel steady with a knee. "WOOOO-OOOOOO!" Harley crowed as she lapped Foulfellow (still doing circles) and Snatcher (trapped in the center of Foulfellow's circles).

"…Well, whaddaya know," Pinstripe breathed.

They reconvened at the starting line. "I won fair and square!" Harley proclaimed. "That means you guys join the WHAM ARMY!"

"Fair and square?" Tawna repeated. "One of your team drove BACKWARD and blitzed my kart!"

"Yeah, well, I ran the math," Harley told her, "and if you wanna split hairs, Giddy here did the same track we did but in reverse, and he had to hit that finish line in order to get back to us, so technically, HE got there first."

Gideon broke into a mile-wide smile, nodding fervently and pointing at himself.

Tawna opened her mouth to argue. Then gave up, shrugging with a smile. "Yeah, no, either way, one of your team won it. Good race."

"But this don't mean we're WHAM ARMY just yet," Pinstripe reminded the group. "Our deal was you win this race and we do your little heist to see how well this alliance is gonna go."

"Well, thankfully most of us are better at cons and heists than we are at driving," Foulfellow chuckled.

"I WOULD'VE BEEN A LOT FARTHER ALONG IF NOT FOR YOUR INTERFERENCE!" Snatcher argued.

"Offer still stands," Roman told Pinstripe. "You name the crime, you name the time."

"Let's see…" Pinstripe mulled it over.

He glanced to Tawna, who was mouthing the words "Mosquito Marsh."

Tawna then gave a victorious leap and a chirp of joy as Pinstripe said, "You fellas ever crashed a Mardi Gras parade?"

...

Homecoming at Monster High was held in the Catacombs. Normally a dank and dark labyrinth, seemingly neverending, one room of the Catacombs was transformed into a vibrant dance hall by lights and streamers. The students of New Salem High – the school of the human town adjacent to Monster High grounds – were awed at the display of wonder and color.

A disco ball studded with dull spikes spun round and round over it all, like a heavenly body. Resident Monster High DJ Holt Hyde stood at the turntables, pumping music whose lyrics all seemed to have spooky overtones but friendly sound. Just before his station was a table with a pair of boxes: metal chests with curved lids, thick rivets, and skull emblems carved into them. These were the Homecoming Royalty boxes. Over the course of the night, students would write the names of the chosen candidate – one box for Monster High and one box for New Salem – and they would be tallied at night's end. From his vantage position, Holt's secondary job was to ensure everyone dropped only one ballot each – but he was getting so into the groove of his music that he hadn't really been paying attention.

The students were dressed to the nines, in avant-garde fashions and the latest trends, to make a whirl of skirts and sequins. However, it was arguable that few looked better than the WHAM ARMY.

Valentine had opted for an even more ornate suit than usual, a bright red one with a long coat and tails, embroidered with even more flowers connected by patterns of thorns. Whisp was outfitted in a gown that was a modernization of an abaya, in shadowy black and blue, and her hair piled high atop her head. Mim hadn't wanted anything too fancy or princess-like, going with a rather baggy gown that called back to the Anglo-Saxon style, multiple shades of burgundy and pink tied off with a thick and flowing purple sash. Coco, of course, had gone for as much pastel and chiffon as she could handle, with bows and ruffles everywhere, little hearts patterning it all. And Letheo was dressed in a green-and-gold tuxedo whose fabric was styled as shimmering scales, calling to his reptilian nature.

"All right," Mim told her entourage. "I'll work on that ballot box. The rest of you just go and have fun until the blood moon rises – and be sure to wreak some HAVOC!"

"Okies!" Coco tore into the crowd, looking for a dance partner.

Valentine tore his eyes away from the way Letheo looked in his shimmering suit, stunning even with his scraggly and untamed hair. He spied a high-tech android girl, one Elle Eedee, dancing perfectly to Holt's beats, and decided she might as well be his next victim; how would an android present a heart? He was eager to find out. Lifting a pair of red-rhinestone-studded sunglasses to his eyes, made specially for this dance, he put on a grin as well. "It's a collector's paradise," he declared. "If you'll excuse me, I've got a young lady the nature of whose heart should turn up fairly interesting." With that, he stalked over toward Elle.

Letheo hadn't noticed Valentine's gaze. He was shaking, already feeling tremors and dull pains. "It's happening," he whispered.

"Then let it!" Mim told him. "It'll really liven up this party! And with the amount of undead here, I'm sure it'll be welcome."

"I…I have to…" Letheo shook his head, darting away to get himself lost in the crowd.

"Aaaaand I'll just keep to the shadows," Whisp declared, swaggering away to the nearest wall. "This was never really my scene. Maybe there'll be something interesting in the wallflower scene." She folded her arms, leaning against the wall, one foot propped. Observing the rest of the spectacle with a smirk.

"All right, then!" Mim cracked her knuckles. "Time to win a Homecoming queen!" She began to scope out the box, observing Holt, waiting for his attention to be diverted. Which didn't take long; the man was entranced by his own music.

Whisp was mildly amused watching everyone else dance, whether twirling or moshing or what have you. She gave a slight laugh, then said to herself, "Pathetic."

"I know, right?"

The second voice made her jump. Feminine, raspy. Whisp turned to see that another wallflower had joined her against the wall: a human girl, who must've been from New Salem. Short blonde hair pulled back into a pair of pigtails. Dressed in a flowing gown of purple.

"Guessing this isn't your scene either," Whisp told her. Oh, she was a very pretty girl, too.

"I'm here out of obligation more than anything else," the blonde replied with an exasperated sigh. "I'm really ready to get this over with."

"I hear that," Whisp replied. "I came here for my own…obligations."

"Oh?"

"But they're top secret," Whisp teased. "What about yours?"

"Also top secret."

"Then we're two of a kind," Whisp said. "They call me 'Whisp,' by the way. You?"

The blonde gave a mischievous grin. "Lark."

"Pretty name," Whisp said without thinking. She turned back to look at the dancers. "I guess it's not completely devoid of value. A girl could have SOME fun in a place like this. Just not the way they're doing it."

"You give it too much credit," Lark replied.

"Let me guess," Whisp told her. "You're saying that because you've never danced. Maybe you even can't dance!"

Lark scowled. "I can dance."

"I don't exactly believe you," Whisp teased, having fun messing with the other girl. "Unless you're willing to prove it."

"I have nothing to prove to you."

"Tell you what," Whisp said. "I'll go on that floor and make a fool of myself for a few minutes, and if that gives you the courage to come up there and try to outdo me, then so be it. If you don't, I'll just assume you can't dance."

Suddenly feeling the beats, Whisp stalkd out onto the floor, arms raising into the air to flit around. She floated, spinning and twirling, an utterly mystical sight.

Lark watched, transfixed, telling herself over and over again that she really had nothing to prove to this beautiful girl who danced so ethereally. Then, out of some stubborn desire to flaunt her ego, stormed out alongside her to join in. Starting awkwardly at first, just sort of balling up fists and swaying her arms to the beat.

"You really CAN'T dance!" Whisp crowed. Then she spied something out of the ordinary on Lark's bare arms. A set of scars, four evenly spaced, like the scratch of a cat. "What happened there?"
Lark stopped dancing, throwing her arms behind her own back. "It's NOTHING!" she spat.

"You could've just said you had a pet cat," Whisp told her. "Then I would've left it aaaaaall alone. But now that you had to go and act all suspicious…I know there's a secret behind it. So, what'll it be? Tell me or let me come up with increasingly embarrassing scenarios in my own mind to believe?"

Lark averted her gaze. "I disappointed my…mother," she grumbled. "She wanted me to carry out an errand for her, and I didn't come back with what she wanted. So she gave me a little incentive to do better next time. That's all."

"That's ALL?" Whisp spat, suddenly enraged. "You're just going to sit there and take it? Because I wouldn't take it lying down. Anyone who did that to me would have to feel my wrath!"

"Even your…mother?"

Whisp smirked. "I betrayed my own sister. No, not 'sister'…I was her shadow. Literally a part of her broken away and given life. I was supposed to be her best friend. But I got sick of her eating up all the spotlight. So I took matters into my own hands."

Lark smirked. "That's admirable."

"In fact, it's kind of infamous around here," Whisp went on coyly. "The others hate me because I tried to imprison them in my lantern and replace them with obedient shadowy doppelgängers. Oh, but I'm reformed now! So don't you worry." The smirk widened. "Or am I? Maybe you shouldn't be dancing with me. Maybe I'm dangerous."

Lark's grin was downright hungry. "Maybe I like danger. Whatever the case may be, it tells me you're NOTHING like the others here. You're something stronger. More ruthless. More ambitious. I like that."

"You have to have some ambitions of your own, right?" Whisp urged.

"I wouldn't mind a little extra power," Lark replied. "Of course, a New Salem alumna like me doesn't have much opportunity to do that."

"You could if you had a shadow genie working for you," Whisp told her.

Lark gave a low chuckle. "Are you offering?"

"Maybe. Let's see how it goes."

The last time anyone had appreciated Whisp at face value, actually admired her evil streak, it was Valentine. And he was a boy – even if he really did have any interest in girls, Whisp definitely didn't do boys. Lark was a girl, and a pretty girl, and now Whisp was already lost in her own fantasies and wishes. Sure, she'd known Lark for only a few minutes, but who could stop her from dreaming?

And if Lark liked what she saw after Whisp regained power…well, then she might be worth keeping around a little longer.

Elle had recognized the technology in Valentine's sunglasses that he used to monitor emotion levels, and she'd quickly backed off after he refused to elaborate on them. Oh, well. As he scanned around for the next viable-looking girl, the first thing he noticed was Coco Atarashi sitting cross-legged on the floor, her chiffon poofing around her like a healthy inverse flower.

Chuckling, Valentine strode over to her. "Trouble?"

"I keep trying to get people to dance with me," Coco pouted, "but nobody believes I'm just a short freshman."

"You look twelve," Valentine told her. "No way around it. No one our age wants to dance with a child."

"I'm a tween," Coco corrected.

"I said what I said," Valentine told her. Then, giving her a smile, he extended a hand. "But as newfound friends, I could indulge you just the once."

Coco glared up at him. "Are you just trying to steal my 3?"

"Trust me," Valentine told her. "I'm not that stupid. But if you see a desperate-lookin' girl who might not know who I am just yet…be sure and let me know."

Coco leapt to her feet, ignoring Valentine's hand, saluting. "Wingwoman go!"

Then they loosely took each other's hands, and Valentine humored Coco by whirling her around.

Mim was playing it smart, only adding ballots for Whisp gradually. She stalked the box, and every time Holt closed his eyes to headbang and rock out, she would slip in another, through magic or just by darting past the box. No way Whisp wouldn't be made queen of the monsters.

Mim, of course, became curious about who her human cohort might be. As soon as the question entered her head, she noticed the pattern. She wasn't the only one stuffing the ballot box every time Holt was distracted.

She must've been a senior, a human. Golden hair heaped atop her head, a gown of shimmering silver. Discreetly slipping a ballot into the New Salem box every few minutes.

So there was more than one ambitious player on this field, Mim thought. In fact, someone with that sort of drive, that sort of cunning, was worth keeping an eye on. She could turn out to be a friend. Or she could turn out to be a foe.

"Hey," Whisp suggested after she and Lark had been dancing for some time. "I'm getting thirsty. Want some punch?"

"No," Lark replied, suddenly cold. "Not thirsty."

Whisp shrugged. "More for me." She turned to stalk away –

"NO!"

Lark seized Whisp's sleeve. "I don't…trust the punch," she said tentatively. "Who knows what someone might've…done to it?"

"With Mr. Rotter watching?" Whisp scoffed. "No one could spike it. Not unless they were REALLY clever." She took a couple steps closer to the refreshment table. "Oh, Mr. Rotter! Is the punch safe?"

The teacher, an emaciated zombie with a stern frown, scowled at her. "Of course it is safe! I have watched it like a hawk all night! There is nothing in this punch any stronger or more malicious than the Mountain Dew provided by the New Salem students!"

Lark had caught up, seizing Whisp's shoulders and hissing in her ear, "DON'T drink the punch. I'm starting to like you, and I wouldn't want to ruin it."

Whisp smirked. She waved to Rotter; "I'll just come back for it, then." Stalking away along with Lark, Whisp said softly, "YOU got past him?"

"I just wanted to make this party a little more fun," Lark replied.

"You are devious," Whisp chuckled. "You be careful, or I could really fall for you."

Lark was struck silent, stunned, blushing pink. "I – "

"Hang on. I need to send a message." Whisp quickly retrieved her phone, which connected up to the scrolls of the other WHAM ARMY members. In the group text they'd established, she sent out, "Avoid the punch. My date spiked it. Proud of her."

The messages came back instantly:

"K! 3 3 3"

"Well haven't you found yourself a catch ~3"

"dont let that girl go!"

"ok but im still transforming. it hurts help"

Whisp smirked proudly. Of course, the one who'd managed to taint the public punch would be approved of by all her new villainous cohorts, and it was a wonderful feeling. For the first time in a long while, she felt as though she had an actual support network. And someone she could flirt with who had the same sense of control as her!

"They're so kyoot," Coco sighed. "I want a girl like that…"

Valentine smiled. "Yeah, cute indeed. Happy for her, really. Y'know, I do wish the two of them would end up Homecoming royalty so Whisp could dance with her dream girl in the spotlight."

Across the room, Whisp clapped her two hands together and said "As you choose." Then her eyes widened in horror. "Oh no."

"What was that about?" Lark asked.

Whisp held up a finger. "Stay here. I have to go yell at someone."

She stormed across the room, and when she spied the whirling red figure, she snarled, "VAL! WHAT…DID…YOU…DO?"

"Do?" Valentine flinched away from her. "I didn't do anythin'! What're you talkin' about – "

"You WISHED something," Whisp growled. "What did you WISH?"

"Oh." Valentine was struck pale. "I didn't mean to, I assure you. I just meant it in a figurative sense – "

"WHAT WAS THE WISH, VAL?"

"That you and your gf would win Homecoming queens," Coco chuckled.

"SERIOUSLY?" Whisp shrieked. "THAT'S the kind of wish that will backfire! You could've just ruined EVERYTHING! And if you don't watch your words, you'll use wish thirteen up and ruin THAT TOO!"

Valentine's body posture stiffened. "I don't do nice things for just anyone, you know. And you're gonna be angry over me wantin' you to be happy?"

Whisp yanked at a few locks of hair, disheveling her coiffure. "Why are you so STUPID? I just – do NOT screw up the last wish for me. GOT IT?"

Valentine's face returned to a mischievous smirk. "You really do have chemistry with the lady, you know. Glad you found somebody your speed."

"Shut up!" Whisp stormed back to Lark.

Lark was waiting with a smirk. "Who'd you have to tell off?"

"Someone whose stupid wish probably made this night a disaster," Whisp grumbled.

"You punished them appropriately?"

"As appropriately as I could. He's my bestie, so all I could really do was yell at him."

Lark flinched. "So your friends are…reasonable. Loyal."

"Yours aren't?"

"I'm with my kind," Lark replied. "It's a constant competition to get to the top. We each look out for number one."

"If I didn't know better…" Whisp leaned in. "I'd think you wanted something else. It sounds like you've been thinking about it for a WHILE."

"It isn't possible for our kind to share that kind of loyalty," Lark huffed, folding her arms. "No matter how much I desire it, that won't change anything."

"I think everyone around you is pretty dumb," Whisp replied. "Your mom hurts you, your friends use you…what if you could be with people who were ambitious and devious, but also friends? Real friends."

"It could never happen," Lark mumbled.

"Well, you found me, didn't you?" Whisp teased. "And depending on how this goes, I might introduce you to a few more of mine. You'll see. It really is possible to have it all, and people like us shouldn't settle for any less."

Lark attempted another sly grin, but it really came out sentimental. "We'll see."

"I still don't know much about you, you know," Whisp reminded her.

"There's not much to tell," Lark responded. "I'm just a normal girl in a town of humans. Boring as they come."

"If you could be something else…what would it be?"

Lark's smile was now joyously malicious again. "Promise not to tell." A command, not a request.

"Of course," Whisp replied.

"Sometimes I have these…fantasies," Lark said. "About being a military commander. The heir to an empire that will stretch across worlds, commanding expendable troops into bloody battles. Sometimes I even dream about having a warship powerful enough to obliterate entire kingdoms at a time."

Whisp's eyes widened. "Now, that's some dream. I like it. Tell me more."

"I don't see the harm in it," Lark told her. "After all, it's just a fantasy world."

Jinafire Long, Lorna McNessie, Avea Trotter, and two New Salem girls had all rebuffed Valentine by this point. Meanwhile, Andy Beast, Gory Fangtell, Skelita Calaveras, and InvisiBilly had all rebuffed Coco for a dance, not buying her story about being a "short freshman" and asking how she'd snuck in when she was obviously a middle-schooler. (InvisiBilly also pointed out that he had a girlfriend he was dancing with as Coco asked, and he wasn't leaving her side for anyone.) These incidents happened quickly, and upon each rejection, Valentine and Coco went back to each other for moral support.

"It'll be good to get off this world," Valentine sighed. "I gotta find some girls who have no idea what's comin'."

"And I guess I need to be looking for an eboy or a big tiddy goth gf my own age," Coco sighed. "Which is twelve but immortal. Where am I ever gonna find that? Blegh. Oh, btw, are you gonna do anything about Letheo?"

"Stop bringing up Letheo!" Valentine snapped. "I don't think anything about him, and this is the last time I'll – "

Coco shook her head, pointing. "I mean the fact that he's totally freaking out over there. I'm pretty sure he'll give the game away if we don't check on him." A beat. "Wait, why? Do you have a crush on him or smth?"

Valentine ignored that last question, looking to where Coco had pointed. There was Letheo, trying to press himself into a corner, practically doubled over and holding his mouth with a hand as he rocked and trembled. The hand had already become a scaly claw.

Letheo was nothing to him. Nothing. He didn't need to fuel Whisp's fires by showing too much concern.

But neither could he leave Letheo like that. Anyway, getting that close would just be a way to show the others that he thought of Letheo as a normal ally and nothing more.

"…I'll take care of it," Valentine breathed quickly, taking off for the corner.

"I THINK YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON HIM OR SMTH!" Coco yelled after him. Then shrugged. "Oh well." She pirouetted off to find a new dance partner.

Valentine skidded to a halt before Letheo, now able to see that his eyes were wide, pupils slits rather than round. "You all right?" Valentine asked without thinking. He could've kicked himself. As if the answer to that question wasn't painfully obvious.

"No," Letheo whispered. "I'm changing. Everyone will see. Everyone will know. And it hurts so much…"

Valentine nodded. Then reached out for Letheo's free hand – also a claw by this point, grabbing it and pulling him along. "Let's get somewhere more private."

Walking tall, briskly, confidently, Valentine breezed through the crowd, Letheo in tow. In the corridor outside the dance hall, they were alone; Valentine told Letheo "Stand up. I wanna get a look at you."

So he did. He was only partway transformed – claws, sharp teeth, slitted eyes. He also had considerably more scales on his face than before. But otherwise, not much else had changed. "I look awful, don't I?" he whimpered.

Now wasn't the time to give in to inhibitions. Valentine shook his head. "I already told you. This is a place for monsters. No matter how freakish. You don't look bad at all, really." He meant it. "In fact, I'd almost like to see what you'd look like at the end of this. I bet it's not as bad as you think – "

"YES IT IS!" Letheo started hyperventilating. "They'll see and they'll know and I – AGH!"

He bent again as another transformation wracked him. He could feel more scales sprouting over his stomach – barely, because the sharp pain from that area almost drowned it out. "No, no, no, NO, I need it, I can't have it but I need it NOW – "

"Letheo, calm down!" Now Valentine was panicking, so much that he slipped back into his natural voice for a moment. "Please, you have to calm down! It'll be okay – "

"No, no it won't – "

Unfortunately, time for the big guns. "Letheo, look at me!" Valentine urged, ripping away his sunglasses. "Look into my eyes right now!"

Letheo cautiously raised his head, his slitted pupils staring right into Valentine's worried eyes. Then there was a flash of pink light –

The pain didn't stop. Nor did the transformation. But Letheo didn't really care about either of those things right now, because he was struck by just how gorgeous Valentine was. All he wanted to do was stare.

"What did you do to me?" he asked softly.

"It's…I used magic on you," Valentine admitted. "It's not the full power, so it won't affect your emotional state when it wears off, but I…I gave you a little…love for me. It's hypnosis. You'll stay in love for another few hours. It should hopefully be enough to…calm you down until this is over."

Letheo kept his eyes locked on Valentine, a dreamy smile spreading over his face. "You made me fall in love with you," he retiterated.

"Only a LITTLE." Valentine's accent was back in full force. "If I'd used the full spell, then you'd be hopeless for three days, after which your ability to love anyone at all would be dulled if not erased. …It's an emotional vampire standard, but I'm not very well-practiced at it yet. Older vampires can switch it on and off at will without erasing the target's desire."

"You're beautiful," Letheo breathed. "And that kind of magic…that's amazing. If I was able to do that, then I could've gotten…a girl I know to fall for me. But I don't want to do that anymore, because she isn't half as wonderful as you."

"That's the magic talking," Valentine said quickly. He should've felt relieved that somewhere, there was a girl for Letheo. Why did it instead feel like a stab to the heart? "Don't get used to it."

"Can I dance with you?" Letheo asked. "I don't want to be away from you while I'm like this. I just want to look at you."

Valentine was about to turn him down. To say he had hearts to steal up until the blood moon was in position. But…that hadn't really been working, had it? And the time of drawing Homecoming royalty was close, meaning the blood moon was almost in position.

"…Sure," he said, extending a hand again. "After all, anyone asks, I can tell 'em we're just good friends."

Letheo gripped Valentine's hand hard, almost dislocating a finger with his claws' rigid grip. Valentine felt weak. He hadn't realized how much he'd wanted someone to grab his hand just like that, specific as it might be.

Then Letheo was running back to the dance floor, practically floating, dragging Valentine with him. The pain was nothing, because he had Valentine. The spell would wear off after, but he was fully in this moment, and all he wanted to do was admire the emotional vampire who'd provided a temporary remedy to his most embarrassing condition.

The two boys didn't stop until they'd reached the center of the crowd, and only there did they begin to dance with each other. Valentine was smooth, rehearsed, a dancer with both natural grace and a couple centuries of practice in his corner. Letheo, having grown up on the streets, had about half the grace and none of the experience, so his dancing was more like jumping around in a silly fashion, but it made Valentine laugh and not in a mocking way.

It was the first time all night that Letheo had felt good. And, loath as he was to admit it, the first time all night that Valentine had felt in his element.

It was indeed almost time to draw for royalty. However, the strange events surrounding this dance hadn't gone completely unnoticed.

Frankie Stein, a reanimated corpse with a heart of gold, finished pouring punch for herself and all her friends, passing out the cups. Then the six of them huddled. "Something's up," Frankie revealed. "That goblin girl's been hanging around the ballot box a little too much. I'm starting to think she's stacking the votes for queen."

"THAT'S what you think is up?" The panicked cry came from Draculaura, a short and adorable vampire. "You have nothing to say about Valentine? He's been on the prowl! More than he ever has since he made all those silly wishes! It's a good thing most everyone's onto him, but we'd better make sure and warn the other girls just in case!"

"How is THAT more important than the royalty contest being fixed?" This came from Cleo de Nile, a young mummy of royal blood. "If some goblin nobody wins queen instead of me, I won't be able to live with myself!"

"Excuse me?" This came from Clawdeen Wolf, a werewolf girl who was the only one of the group wearing a fancy suit rather than a dress. "Valentine is stalkin' girls, WHISP'S in a good mood, and all you care about is some fake tiara?"

Cleo glared at Clawdeen. "In tough times," she growled, "a person has to focus on the little things!"

"Eeeeaaaahhhh…" The moan came from Ghoulia Yelps, a hunched zombie. All her friends could understand her language by now, and that simple moan held a lot of meaning. She'd reminded them all that earlier that very year, Cleo's older sister Nefera had gone mysteriously missing. Nefera was a blight on Cleo's existence, but that hadn't meant Cleo wanted anything bad to happen to her, and what's more, it had made the already-tense relations between Cleo and her father Ramses worse.

"Oh," Clawdeen realized. "Sorry, ghoulfriend. It's not that I forgot, it's just…yeah, it makes sense now. You're tryin' to forget all about it, aren't ya?"

Cleo nodded. "Please don't bring it up again! And you all voted for me, right?"

The others all chirped their approval; they'd cast six ballots for Cleo. Which didn't matter, because in addition to Mim's faux ballots, Valentine's wish had changed every single name in the Monster High box to "Whisp Grant," and every name in the New Salem box to "Lark Anarchis."

Then Lagoona Blue, a saltwater sea monster, started putting the pieces together. "Something smells fishy about all this," she said, "and not in the good way. We've spotted three new students we know nothing about; Bloodgood hasn't even introduced them. They seem to be good friends with our two resident troublemakers, who've gotten a lot more brash tonight. And there's all this hubbub surrounding the ballot boxes."

Draculaura gasped. "You don't think this is another invasion, do you? Like what happened at Haunted High?" She looked back over her shoulder. Earlier that year – around the time of Nefera's disappearance – a squad of mysterious assailants had invaded Haunted High, the sister school for ghosts only. Their headmistress had been turned to glass and shattered, and no one had yet found a way to piece her back together. Draculaura's friends Kiyomi Haunterly, Vandala Doubloons, River Styxx, and Porter Geiss had been beside themselves with sadness, so she'd invited them all to Homecoming – then one thing led to another, and now Kiyomi was actually Draculaura's date, since the vampire had gracefully parted ways with Clawdeen's brother a while ago.

"We can't say anything for sure yet," Frankie reminded the group. "But it won't hurt to keep an eye out."

They didn't notice a cup of punch levitating itself through the air, across the room, into Mim's hand. "I wonder what she spiked this with anyway?" Mim murmured, examining the cup. It was time to run some tests and see just how nefarious Whisp's date was.

The techno music faded out. Monster High's Headmistress Bloodgood, a headless horsewoman who carried her head in the crook of her arm as she ascended to the DJ station, was about to make an announcement. She raised her head to the level of the microphone; "Attention students of Monster High and New Salem High! I am pleased to announce that the time has come to announce the winners of the royalty poll!"

"Come on, Queen Cleo!" Cleo begged.

"After tallying up the results of the ballot boxes," Bloodgood said, "we found a rather…interesting phenomenon had taken place. In a unanimous landslide win, the Monster High queen is…DJINNI GRANT!"

A spotlight shone down on Whisp, who forced a smile and waved at everyone.

"Wait a minute!" Draculaura hissed to her friends. "We all voted for Cleo, right? So she couldn't have been unanimous unless she was cheating!"

"As for New Salem," Bloodgood continued, "I am proud to announce that the queen is…LARK ANARCHIS!"

Lark's face was of pure horror as the spotlight was turned upon her as well.

Mim noticed it when the other blonde, the one in the silver dress, shot Lark a glare that spoke of murder. She'd been gunning for that crown, and wasn't too happy about the competition.

Mostly, however, the New Salem reaction was of one sentiment:

"Who's that?"

The humans whispered among themselves. No one at all knew who Lark was. Was she new?

"Please come up onstage to receive your tiaras!" Bloodgood announced.

Whisp turned to Lark and shrugged. "Might as well, don't you think?"

"I – no – " Lark sputtered. "I wasn't supposed to win. She'll kill me – "

"Not if you get to her first, whoever she is." Whisp grinned. "Don't tell me you don't want to dance with me."

Lark hesitated. Then, looking at Whisp, she felt filled with a new confidence. "Actually, I would love to claim the title and the dance."

She took Whisp's arm as they ascended. Tiaras were settled upon both of them.

"No," the blonde in the silver dress seethed. "That was MY silver. That was MY crown. That was the blood on MY roses in hand!"

"So she just rigged the contest?" Clawdeen said, befuddled, as Frankie comforted a sobbing Cleo. "Was that really all she wanted?"

"No, something's off about this 'Lark' as well," Lagoona realized. "Nobody at New Salem seemed to know who she is! Meaning not that many people could've voted for her! It also gives me the feeling that she's part of an invasive force herself!"

"We have to warn Bloodgood!" Draculaura gasped.

With another moan, Ghoulia pointed to the stage and led the charge.

All over the dance hall, lights were dimmed. Then on came one spotlight, shining down on the floor just before the DJ station. "In honor of tonight's blood moon," Bloodgood stated, "we have a red spotlight prepared for the royalty dance. Please, step into it and dance however you please!"

Holt threw on a mournful yet romantic techno beat. Whisp and Lark took their places within the bright red spotlight. Whisp reached out, putting a hand on Lark's shoulder and one on her waist. Lark lazily draped her arms around Whisp's shoulders. Then they took off, whirling to the song.

"You know something, Whisp?" Lark said. "I like you a lot. You're the first person I've met in a while who gets it. I've been in and out of living situations lately, and maybe if I'd started out where you were, we'd all be happier."

"I like you too," Whisp replied. "Which is why there's something I have to tell you. But we'll let Val make the announcement."

"Who's Val?"
Valentine had clambered onstage, Letheo following him like a puppy. Valentine then grabbed the microphone. "Sorry to interrupt the fun and romance," he said, "but I've got a little request to make."

"For a song?" Holt asked excitedly.

"No," Valentine replied. "I'm here to say…that I wish Whisp Grant, who you all know as 'Djinni,' was a free shadow genie!"

Red lights burst from Whisp as she transformed. Her peach skin turned wan, then gained an ashen sheen. The pink in her hair went to purple, and the blue deepened. Even her clothing now was shadowier than before.

"WE'RE TOO LATE!" Lagoona cried, just short of the stage.

Whisp gave a victorious laugh. "At LAST!" she cried. "No more being bound by that stupid lantern!"

Gigi Grant, the one who'd spawned the shadow that became Whisp, was practically in tears across the room. "Is this…my fault?" she whimpered.

In the time it took everyone to stare, Whisp took the window. Turning to Lark, she extended her hand. "Come with me," she said. "To the WHAM ARMY. You'll be able to follow your dreams there, be as nasty as you want, but we're all friends. We're going back to save a few friends right now. Stay with me, Lark. We can be something great together!"

Lark's expression was almost mournful. She looked at Whisp's hand, then plaintively up to her eyes. Then she steeled herself. "No. I can't. See, there's something you need to know too – "

This was about when Mim figured it out. There was no drug in the punch. No magic, either. She'd been disappointed, worrying that Lark was just a liar and a braggart, until she'd held it up to the scarlet light and seen the little glinting flecks. Not poison, not magic, but something technological. Microchips.

The blonde in silver rushed the stage, shoving Valentine off it. He thudded to the dance floor.

"VAL!" Letheo gasped. He then glared at the blonde, his eyes narrowing. "You'll pay for that," he seethed before springing animalistically down to check on Valentine.

But the other girl didn't care. She seized the microphone, screaming, "Cyclonis, you BIIIIITCH! THAT CROWN WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MINE!"

Mim dropped the punch, spilling its microchips across the floor. "CYCLONIS?"

Whisp flinched, reeling away from Lark. "Wait. Who's Cyclonis?"

Lark's grin was positively malicious. Then a transformation overcame her, a crystal's effects dissipating. Her blonde hair darkened to jet-black, her eyes were lined heavily in black, her gown became a draping, more regal robe. "It's me," she told Whisp. "I'm Master Cyclonis. And that's what you needed to know."

In the student body, Heath Burns gasped; "THEY WERE REALLY GOTHS THE WHOLE TIME!"

Master Cyclonis put up a hand. The crystal staff she'd hidden earlier flew into her hand. "Oh, by the way," Cyclonis added, "my orders are to wipe out any WHAM ARMY scum I run into. You really shouldn't have told me that."

Whisp recoiled. "NO!"

"But enough of that," The other blonde – Sara Berry - snarled into the microphone.

Frankie and friends were charging her; "You won't get away with whatever you're – "

"Time for the real show," Sara announced. Throwing a fist high, she screeched, "LET'S SAVE THE PITIFUL CHILDREN!"

It was a password. The SQUIP embedded in her brain sent out signals to all the others – all the chips ingested by the students from both Monster High and New Salem, activated by the Mountain Dew in the punch. They froze, awaiting orders. Now a perfect army of slaves, many of whom had supernatural powers.

"Oh, wonderful," Mim sighed. "Because THIS is what we needed today."

"But you told all your little friends not to drink, didn't you?" Cyclonis pointed the staff at Whisp. "Actually, that could work in my favor. I'd love to see their faces, fully conscious of the fact that I'm sending them to oblivion. Starting with you. Enjoy your trip."

Whisp didn't have enough time to move. The Oblivion Crystal blasted.

And nothing happened.

"WHAT?" Cyclonis screeched. Not afraid that her crystal or staff were out of order. There was a very well-known fact about Oblivion Crystals, one that had bitten her a long time ago. They couldn't be turned by friends upon friends, even if the bond had broken.

She thought she'd been lying to Whisp the whole time. But she'd been lying to herself. This whole time –

Shadows burst from the dark, wrapping around Cyclonis like sticky vines. Lashing her down.

Whisp gave Cyclonis a mournful look. "I thought we could've been something," she said softly. "But I guess you're just as fake as everyone ELSE!"

"Fellow SQUIPS!" Sara called out. "Eliminate the WHAM ARMY. You're receiving a transmission from me right now showing you exactly what they look like!"

The students thronged, converging. The targets were scattered across the room. Coco put up her hands, palms out, as she was swarmed. Whisp and Cyclonis were pushed apart by the jostling crowd, giving Cyclonis time to free herself. Valentine cringed as the very girls he'd been trying to collect surrounded him – and then Letheo, now completely reptilian, was on all fours before him, snarling at the crowd and ready to attack.

"Well, we got what we wanted," Mim said with a shrug. "Might as well quit while we're behind. But for the record, I hate, hate, HATE those girls!"

Then she transformed into a rhinoceros and barreled through the student body, hurrying to collect her charges so they could leave.

Coco was squaring off against Abbey Bominable, a yeti who was using her ice powers to try and freeze the little Reaper solid. Wings out, Coco dodged this way and that, flying overhead and skidding on the ice patches Abbey was creating in her attempts to capture her. Coco retaliated with heart-shaped projectiles, sharp-edged and pointed; Abbey summoned an icy wall to catch all the blades.

Then Mim blew past. Coco leapt up on her back, screeching, "WE REALLY REALLY G2G!"

"I know that!" Mim snapped. "Now let's pick up the hopeless romantics!"

Letheo was all claws and teeth, snarling and biting and slashing at anyone who dared get close to Valentine. Valentine had to pull himself out of a flattered stupor in order to start covering Letheo's back with his magic. He knew a series of lightning spells for offense, but really, he'd trained his magic to be more conducive to his flirting, so once the others got too close for ranged magic to make sense, he turned to some more unorthodox methods.

After he'd bound up a couple of attacking students with the thorny vines of a dozen red roses and brought down two others by slamming a heavy boom box into their heads, a familiar girl in pink dropped down before him. Valentine laughed raucously; "Draculaura! You've got no idea how long I've waited to do this."

He summoned up a heart-shaped box of chocolates and smashed it into her face.

"GET ON, BOYS!" Mim was stampeding fast.

Letheo grabbed Valentine around the waist and sprang, both of them landing on Mim's back. Once they were there, Letheo protectively grabbed onto Valentine, hugging him tight, possessively. A head pressed to his chest and hearing Valentine's heart absolutely thundering.

"No one hurts you," Letheo said huskily.

Maybe Valentine really did have to reconsider his sexual orientation after all. He ruffled Letheo's hair; "Darlin', I see now why you don't have a driver's license. All you'd be able to do is drive a man crazy."

"In the good way?"

"Yes, Theo."

Whisp was using the battle to test just how far her shadow powers had gone. She phased through several combatants, conjured more ropes of Darkness to hold them back, and finally found the strength to reanimate a single shadow doppelgänger (of Neighthan Rot) and sic it on its progenitor.

"Wow," she panted. "That is a LOT harder for a free genie to pull off."

Then the students attacking her froze. Backed off, like the parting of the sea. They left a straight corridor clear, leading from Whisp back to Cyclonis. The latter had flipped her staff, pointing a much more harmful crystal than Oblivion at Whisp.

Whisp snickered. "Oh yeah? Do your worst." She spread out her arms, thinking of all the ways she could use shadows to counter Cyclonis' worst.

She never got a chance to use them. The staff trembled in Cyclonis' hand, inert.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WAITING FOR?" Sara screeched.

"You're…" Cyclonis tried to hiss at Whisp. "You're NOTHING…"

Whisp found herself looking back with pity. "You could still walk away," she found herself saying. "I'd argue for you."

"No," Cyclonis croaked. "I can't – "

Then along came Mim, and Whisp was seized and thrown on the back of the rhino along with everyone else. "NEXT STOP, OUT OF HERE!" Mim screamed as she summoned a Corridor of Darkness.

"What about – " Whisp gasped.

"Our classmates?" Valentine filled in for her, incorrectly. "Not our problem anymore!"

"But – " Whisp gave Cyclonis one last look as they all vanished through the Corridor.

Cyclonis didn't fire. She let them get away without a single blast, lowering her staff as soon as the Corridor had dissipated. Thinking about too many things all at once.

Then her neck was seized from behind. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?" Sara screamed as her grip tightened on Cyclonis. "I'll tell Mirage everything! I'll tell her you took my crown, AND that you let a WHAM ARMY pile of shit get away!"

Cyclonis whacked Sara away with her staff. "You want this stupid thing?" she yelled, shoving the tiara at Sara. "Then TAKE IT. As for Mirage, I'll be looking forward to if she can outdo herself from my punishment for losing Drowsy."

Cyclonis then ascended to the DJ station, where Holt had cut the music entirely. Before her stood two student bodies of teenagers controlled completely by SQUIPs. Programmed to listen to her, Sara, or any other Morbian.

"Let me explain to you how this works," she told them all. "You are now our elite army, and you're going to help us out with SEVERAL worlds. For now, though, I say we give monsters back their old reputation that you worked so hard to undo. Monster High, go invade New Salem, and don't leave much left standing. Make sure you're seen but not caught. New Salem, you all get to stay here in the catacombs. After all, we have to let the world know you're hostages…even if we don't have to tell them who the real captors are."

...

It had taken hours of painstaking work, but finally, Arista had managed to carve a sculpture that seemed to her to be perfect. It represented a dolphin breaching the surface, and when she looked at it, she could almost see the shimmer of sun on sea behind it.

The little, but not quite as little as her youngest sister, mermaid excitedly took the dolphin into her hands. "I have to show EVERYONE!" Then she sped off to the Atlantican castle.

The first place she tried was Attina's study. "Attina!" she called in. "Come look at what I made in Sebastian's art studio! Isn't it – "

Attina's head poked out through the seaweed curtain that cordoned it off. "Arista, how many times do I have to tell you? If I'm in my study, I'm STUDYING. And I can't be interrupted!"

"But – "

"How do you expect me to become queen of Atlantica if I don't know its history and the ins and outs of its politics?" Attina argued. "I'm in the middle of laws concerning crimes that Atlanticans commit in Sharkanian waters, and this is probably the most important thing I'll have to handle if it comes up!"

"It'll take two seconds – "

"Go show Alana!" Attina disappeared back behind the seaweed. "I'm sure she's got nothing better to do."

That was where Arista went next. "Hey, Alana! Can I show you – "

Alana pressed a finger to her lips. "Shhhh! I'm sneaking out. You can't make noise or I'll get caught!"

Arista rolled her eyes. "Pearl again?"

"She got me an invite to an exclusive party!" Alana gasped. "Daddy would never let me go, but I know it'll be fine! Besides, I can't just let her go all by herself. She's actually a really lonely mermaid, when you get down to it."

"Okay," Arista sighed. "But before you go – "

"Oh, there she is!" Alana shot out the window. "Don't say anything! You're the best!"

Arista scowled, half wanting to rat out Alana for ignoring her. It seemed that since Ariel had gone surface-side, Alana had taken over as the troublemaker sister. Whenever Triton found out about her disobedience, she'd be beached, of course, and he'd yell at her plenty and it would be awful but at least he'd be paying her some attention.

Arista almost wanted to be yelled at right now.

Then again, she still had others to show her work. So she tried for Adella next. Adella wasn't in her room, though, so Arista had to track her down, and lo and behold! She was playing a board game with Triton in the throne room. Perfect! Both at once!

"Daddy!" Arista waved with one hand, cradling the sculpture with the other. "Adella!"

"Oh, hello, Arista!" Triton greeted.

"Hi, sis!" Adella gasped. "You wanna play winner?"

"Actually," Arista said, "I wanted to show you guys something – "

"Can't it wait until we're done?" Adella pouted. "I need to focus!"

"You do need to learn to wait your turn, Arista," Triton scolded.

Arista scowled. "Are you serious right now? It'll take two minutes! You can go right back to your game after!"

Adella then frowned. "You're right. Sorry, Arista."

But of course, she could get away with being bratty because she was so nice most of the time. Whereas Arista was more abrasive. She could barely put a fin out of line without being chastised for it.

"What do you have to show us?" Triton asked, and finally, Arista was about to get some validation around here –

When in came the last mermaid she wanted to see. "DADDY!" Ariel cried. "ADELLA! ARISTA! I'm back to visit!"

Adella gasped, then squealed "ARIEL!" and charged to envelop her in a tight embrace.

Triton wasn't far behind. "What a surprise, Ariel! I hadn't expected you back here so soon. Is everything all right…above?"

"Just fine," Ariel told him. "I just missed you is all. So I thought I'd come back for a few days!"

"You have to tell me all about your adventures!" Adella insisted. "Tell me about ERIC! What's it like being married? Is it wonderful?"

"Now, now," Triton said. "Let's wait until we're all gathered in one place so Ariel doesn't need to repeat herself. Arista, will you fetch the others – "

"Actually, I just remembered something important I have to go do," Arista said coldly. "You can tell me when I get back."

Without another word, she left. After all, it wasn't as though she was going to be the only daughter to not turn up for the reunion, given that Alana had ditched. And Ariel used to do this to them all the time, before she got such a sense of responsibility out of nowhere.

Outside the castle, near a stone cliffside, Arista looked once more at her perfect dolphin. Then, with a shriek, she hurled it against the rock wall. It shattered into bits. Because it wasn't about the statue, not really. This happened every time she tried to get anyone's attention. Attina was too busy studying to be the high and mighty heir, Alana was getting herself punished and drawing attention that way, Adella was the golden child, and Ariel would always, always be the center of attention no matter what. That wasn't even getting into Aquata's regular meltdowns or Andrina showing off that she could hit the highest notes out of all of them.

Where did that leave Arista? Third to youngest, and with nothing notable about her. Nothing that would get the others to remember she was there. She loved them all, she loved them dearly, but –

"I just wish they didn't forget I existed!"

She flinched when the reply came: "Trouble with relatives? I can relate."

"Wha – " Arista flinched, having thought she was alone. She turned to face a mermaid who somehow had even more flowing red hair than Ariel, though that was where the similarities ended. Arista couldn't help a glance at the scales on the newcomer's tail – black at first sight, but with a violet sheen depending on the light. There was also a sparkle at her chest: a crystal pendant of bright violet. "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough to see you throw a tantrum," Wuya replied. "So, whose was that? I'm guessing that was a revenge throw. The statue, I mean."

Arista hung her head. "It was mine. I just wanted to show it to somebody, but no one wanted to pay attention to me. So I didn't want to look at it anymore."

"Well, that was stupid," Wuya told her. "After all, that was YOUR work that YOU put your heart into. And you broke it because other people couldn't see how good it was? It's not like you made it specifically for them."

"I – " Arista stopped short. "…No," she realized. "I didn't. I made it to have something to be proud of."

"Trust me," Wuya told her. "When you stop listening to what other people tell you and start listening to the voice inside your own head, even if it is a completely stupid voice, you'll be able to achieve great things."

"Great things…" Arista repeated. "I want to achieve great things. Honestly, I just want to do something so amazing that they have no choice but to tell me how wonderful I am! I just…I just want to hear them tell me I'm good."

"Because if they don't, you have no way of being sure you actually are doing any good, right?"

"Right," Arista said softly. "Sometimes it feels like…if they ignore me, it must be because…I'm not doing something right. Or not doing something wrong enough. I'm just…in the middle."

"And I bet Daddy dearest isn't all that sympathetic either," Wuya urged. "At least, mine wasn't. Not until I took matters into my own hands."

"But what can I do?" Arista argued. "I tried today! I made something I was really proud of, and I didn't give up easily, but NO ONE wanted anything to do with me! I don't know if I'll ever be able to make anything better than that dolphin!"

"Hmm." Wuya thought it over – or at least pretended to. "You know, it's times like this when I get tempted to…cheat a little."

"Cheat a little?"

"You know, use magic. After all, if you're doing your best and it isn't working out, magic can go the rest of the way."

"How would you use magic?" Arista asked. "Is it…is it something I could do? Maybe I could learn magic!"

"Magic's not just for anyone to learn," Wuya told her. "But…I do have a few friends who've already mastered it." She picked up the pendant, holding its violet crystal out for Arista to behold. "Where do you think I got this?"

"What is it?" Arista asked. "It's magic, right?"

"Yup," Wuya confirmed. "And it lets me do things like this."

She stirred up the ocean around her, creating a miniaturized whirlpool. Of course, the crystal had nothing to do with her ability to do that, but that little plot twist would've ruined the script.

"Where can I get one?" Arista gasped, wide-eyed. "Doing things like that would be amazing!"

"I mean, I got mine from the friends I mentioned," Wuya reminded her. "I MIGHT be able to put in a good word for you and get one made. They can fill them with all kinds of powers, you know."

"I just want to be seen!" Arista argued.

"I mean, they could even just make a crystal that does that," Wuya said. "Gets you attention. That's it."

"Take me to them!" Arista barked. "…Please. I want to try. If it's all right."

Wuya again pretended to think it over. "Hmm…okay. But try to keep an open mind about things."

She led Arista over the seabed, past the marketplace, over a row of gossipy clams. Then, at last, brought her to the depths of a sea cave.

"This is where your friends live…?" Arista began to sound uncertain.

"You can back out if you want," Wuya told her. "But that would mean no crystal."

"No, I'm in," Arista insisted. "Let's keep going!"

More crystals appeared to line the cavern and bathe it in rainbow light. Then, at the far end, they turned a corner into the workshop of Wuya's friends.

Arista gasped as she took in the sight. Several merfolk were lounged around the cavern, having a chat. There were also a lobster, a shrimp, a shark, and two rays present. But the most intriguing figure in the room was none other than Morgana.

"You're…you're a sea witch," Arista gasped.

"Wow, thanks, Captain Obvious," Morgana replied.

Yzma elbowed her.

"I mean – welcome, WELCOME!" Morgana spread out her arms. "Any friend of Wuya's is a friend of ours!"

Arista recoiled. "My sister got in big trouble with a sea witch. This isn't right."

"Oh, just because ONE of us is off the deep end, that means all of us are bad eggs?" Morgana scoffed. "That's not how it works and you know it."

Arista felt a pit of guilt deep in her stomach. "You're right. I'm sorry. I didn't even know there was more than one octopin sea witch in this ocean."

"Trust me," Morgana said sullenly. "I know all about HER, and I'm about as far from her as you can get." She threw on a smile; "Now tell me, dear, why have you come all the way here?"
"I came to ask for something," Arista admitted. "Which…might be selfish of me. But I've been having problems with my family, and I met your friend, and she told me about the magic crystals you make that gave her powers, and…"

"And let's cut to the chase," Mera said, fanning out her violet tail (patchy in places from where scales were falling off). "You want a crystal all your own."

"If…if it isn't too much trouble," Arista said meekly.

Prisma, whose blue tail shimmered and shone even without the ropes of gemstones she'd wrapped around it for decoration, gasped. "Oh, sweetie, crystals are NEVER too much to ask me for! What do you want it to do? I can give it any power you want!"

"I…I just want to be seen by my family," Arista told her. "I want to be noticed. I want them to pay attention to me. I don't really need to…do anything besides that. I've been doing things, and they still won't see me. I want them to tell me whether or not I've been a good daughter and a good sister."

Morgana and Prisma rolled their eyes toward each other before saying as one, "SISTERS."

"Well, it shouldn't take too long to whip up an attention crystal, right?" Yzma asked. Her tail was bright purple and extremely frilly, like the fronds of a lionfish. "What, five minutes tops?"

"I can make it in two!" Prisma giggled.

"I'm – " Arista stuttered. "I'm having second thoughts about all this. What if magic isn't the way? What if – "

She felt a claw settle on her shoulder. "Kid," the Lobster Mobster said, "down here in this ocean, it's a shark-eat-fish world. We gotta do all we can to get by. You can back out, sure, but then it'd mean you'd go right back to…to…what's the word I'm lookin' for?"

"Asparagus!" volunteered Indus, whose white tail was patterned with black lines that matched the tattoos on his chest.

"OBSCURITY," Yzma filled in.

"Yeah, yeah, obscurity," the Lobster Mobster said. "You want that or what?"

"I…" Arista bit her lip.

"Sweetheart." Morgana swam up closer to Arista, taking her face between both hands. "I know what it's like to be invisible. To be relegated to the shadows while your sister is larger than life and so much better than you in every way. You don't know what I'd do to get her to admit that I'm worth something. You don't want to end up like me! She and I can never have a relationship again. Too much bad blood. None of it my fault, of course. If you take our offer now, then you can start down a better path!"

Prisma nodded. "Things were difficult with me and my sister too. She always overshadowed me! If my family had recognized me a little more…well…our relationship would be a lot less shattered."

"Shattered!" Indus laughed. "It is funny because Azurine is – "

Mera slapped a hand over his mouth before he could give the game away. "Heh heh, wordplay! So funny. Anyway, what's the answer, kid?"

"Yeah, kid, what'll it be?" the Lobster Mobster urged.

"You can always swim away," Morgana said sweetly. "But then this opportunity will never come your way again."

Arista steeled herself. "Make me a crystal. Please."

"One crystal, comin' up!" Morgana cackled, spinning out into the middle of the cavern. "Prisma, would you do the honors?"

Prisma waved her Terra Crystal, pointing it at the center of the cavern floor. "CRYSTALLO!"

In a bright shimmer of light, it appeared: a ruby-red crystal. Yzma quickly fetched it and attached it to a length of leather cord. "Look, it even goes with your aesthetic!" she said as she passed it over.

"Isn't that just lovely?" Morgana added. "Now go on, show us what it can do!"

"We don't have all day, y'know," Undertow grumbled.

Arista slung the cord around her neck. "Magic crystal," she muttered, "make me more noticeable!"

A red light sputtered and flashed, then fizzled out completely.

"Did it work?" Arista asked. "Is anything different? I don't feel different."

"Yeah, no, that didn't work," Wuya told her. "Prisma, did you have enough magic to put into it?"

"Maybe not," Prisma whimpered. "After all, to grow my crystals, I draw upon magic from other sources! Usually, the magic Morgana keeps around is enough – but for something like this? I'm going to need so much more magic!"

"Yes, but last time we discussed greater sources of magic," Yzma said, "wasn't everything we could've used so very inconveniently at least two oceans away?"

"But we will make the journey for our new friend!" Indus declared. "Even if it takes forty years and a half!"

"FORTY AND A HALF?" Arista gasped. "I can't wait that long!"

"I mean, it ain't like the girl knows of anythin' we could use," the Lobster Mobster said. "Too bad."

"Yeah, too bad," Shrimp agreed. "If only she had access to some kinda big magic that we don't."

Silence.

Yzma cleared her throat. "If ONLY any of us had ANY IDEA about a very powerful magical item that was closer to us."

"Anything at all," Wuya added. "Even if it's obvious."

Silence.

"Even if it was something we had to borrow and promised to give right back," Mera said.

"Something shiny!" Prisma added.

Still silence.

"Really?" Undertow sighed. "No ideas? Huh?"

"Giant fork!" Indus said.

Then, after a pause, it finally hit Arista. "Actually, now that I think about it…there's something maybe I could help you borrow. I'm a princess of Atlantica, which means I could…help borrow Daddy's trident."

"Triton's trident!" Morgana gasped. "That's a little extreme, don't you think?"

"But not, like, SO extreme when you think about it," Mera quickly cut in. "I mean, we'd just be borrowing it."

"For one itsy-bitsy teensy-tiny splash of magic!" Prisma giggled.

"You all know she won't take the trident away," Yzma urged. "It'd be against the rules! She'd probably be lectured about it for hours!"

"Lectured for hours…" Arista smiled.

"No, let's definitely stick to the forty-and-a-half-year plan," Yzma insisted.

"No, I'll do it!" Arista said confidently. "I'll bring the trident here, just for a few minutes, and you can use it to make me a crystal! You can use it to make as many crystals as you want! Then, when we're all done, I'll put it back where I found it!"

"As many crystals as I want!" Morgana threw on her sappiest smile. "Oh, young princess, you're far too generous!"

"You just wait here!" Arista had already turned to leave. "I'll be back soon, okay?"

"Do take care!" Morgana called after her. "Don't get yourself in any trouble!"

Then, when she was out of earshot, Morgana finished the sentiment: "After all, we still need you in one piece to cause trouble to at the end."

"Ohhhh, this is gonna be good!" Undertow laughed. "We're about to hit the big time!"

"And then can come the opening act!" Yzma cackled. "Yzmopolis…ON ICE!"

...

Rapunzel, Stork, Papyrus, Ven, and Sofia had to make their way back to Enchancia on foot at first, with Papyrus eventually picking up Sofia to ride on his broad shoulders after her feet became sore from the dress shoes she wore. Then, on a backcountry road, a wheat farmer recognized the young princess as well as the storybook Rapunzel, and let them hitch a ride on the back of his wagon the rest of the way into town. By sundown, they were greeted with the majesty of the Enchancian castle.

"I hope my parents weren't too worried about me," Sofia said as the group moved through the entry courtyard. "…I don't know how I'm going to tell them about James."

"Uhm…" Stork cleared his throat. "Just…let us deliver that one."

Then, like an angel's cry, a child's voice from up ahead: "Sofia? SOFIA!"

And there was James himself, very much not dead and racing toward Sofia with arms outstretched.

Sofia gasped, eyes welling up with tears of joy and disbelief. "JAMES!"

They landed in each other's arms, and not long after, Amber came running out as well, practically tackling both of them. "Don't either of you scare me like that again!" Amber sobbed.

Once the three siblings let go of each other, James and Sofia pointed at one another; "I thought you were - ! What? No, I'm fine!" In complete synchrony.

"So how'd you do it?" James asked, grinning widely. "Did you kick those bad guys' butts?"

"I had a little help," Sofia revealed, gesturing toward Rapunzel, Stork, Ven, and Papyrus.

"Hi Amber!" Rapunzel waved. "Remember me?"

Amber gasped. "RAPUNZEL! You're back! How? Why? Was it the Amulet? But it was stolen by – "

Sofia tapped the Amulet of Avalor at her neck, grinning.

"IT'S BACK!" Amber shrieked joyfully. "Not that that's more important than my siblings being all right, of course…"

"Anyway, these are my friends, Stork, Papyrus, and Ven," Rapunzel introduced. "Turns out the people who took Sofia were old annoyances of ours. No big deal."

"We sure showed 'em!" Ven agreed.

"If you call them stealing our custom pride skimmers 'showing them,'" Stork grumbled.

"WELL, WE'RE GOING TO GET THOSE BACK," Papyrus told him. "I THOUGHT THAT MUCH WAS OBVIOUS."

"But what about you?" Sofia asked James. "I saw you – you were – "

"I had some help, too," James said slyly.

By that time, King Roland, Queen Miranda, and manservant Baileywick had caught up. But behind them came an even stranger crew.

"EVERBURN!" Sofia gasped. "AQUALINA!"

Dragons and sea serpents assembled. "No need to thank us!" Everburn said. "Getting this little guy home was the least we could do!"

"The bad guys' mistake was thinking they could use water to hurt people when we were swimming in it!" Aqualina cackled. "And we STILL owe you for making the Rainbow Palisades for us all to share."

"I don't know about anyone else," Roland said, "but I'm…very confused."

"Maybe we should all sit down and talk about it," Miranda suggested. "Besides, after coming all this way – " She looked from the dragons to the serpents to Sofia's summoned allies. "I bet you could use something to eat and a comfortable place to sit."

Which is exactly what happened next, all of them crowded into a large tearoom and outfitted with delicacies from the kitchen. Over this impromptu dnner, they shared their stories: James of his rescue and Sofia of the ordeal she'd gone through.

"So the bad guys are still out there?" James asked in awe.

"They said they were going somewhere called the 'Mystic Isles,'" Sofia recalled. "I've never heard of a place like that."

"Oh, I have!" Everburn broke in. "But if they're really going to the Mystic Isles, that's bad. Real bad! That's the place where all the magic in this world comes from, and you know how full of magic this world is! Some even say the magic of the Mystic Isles fuels other worlds, too!"

"There's an island for every kind of magic you can think of," Aqualina revealed. "Me and my tribe are descended from the sea monsters that live on the Isle of Sea Monsters, high in the air."

"And we come from the line that started on the Isle of Dragons," Everburn added.

"ALL KINDS OF MAGIC, HUH?" Papyrus reiterated. "THAT'S STANDARD-ISSUE WHAM ARMY PROTOCOL, ALL RIGHT."

"And if I'm understanding this right," Stork added, "we've basically just watched them fly INTO A MINEFIELD! OF MINES THEY'LL TURN ON US!" He trembled.

"Okay, okay!" Rapunzel broke in. "Honestly, we should've seen that coming. But we can still fix it! All we have to do is go after them!"

"To their isles of UNLIMITED MAGIC?" Stork cried. "Are you KIDDING ME? We'll be glitter dust in five minutes! They have home field advantage!"

"I mean, we've made it through some really sticky stuff before," Ven reminded him. "How is this gonna be any worse?"
"Give me half an hour and a notepad and I can list every disaster we've survived and assess their risk levels so I can officially scientifically calculate the margin on this," Stork told him. "I am dead serious."

"But isn't that what you told us when you were here last time?" Amber said to Rapunzel. "The only way we'd win against Princess Ivy was to dare to risk it all."

Rapunzel nodded – trying to look less nervous than she actually was. "That's right. I did say that, and it's true. There's always gonna be some risk in fighting the WHAM ARMY. But it still has to be done if we want to protect places like Enchancia and the Mystic Isles."

"Then we'll go as soon as we're done here and ready," Sofia insisted.

"I'm sorry, 'we'?" Stork countered. "Look, I was already braced for the inevitability of walking directly into our doom, but YOU are not coming."

"THIS IS A JOB FOR PROFESSIONAL HEROES!" Papyrus agreed. "AND WHILE I HAVE KNOWN MANY HEROES WHO ARE AS SMALL AS YOU ARE, IT'S A BIT OF A RISK WHEN YOU HAVE FOUR MUCH LARGER AND STRONGER HEROES TO DO THE JOB FOR YOU, DON'T YOU THINK?"
"You say you've been through worse," Sofia told them. "But I've been through a lot too! Princess Ivy, Miss Nettle, Merroway Cove…I just know I can help!"

"Sofia," Miranda said sharply, "I think it's time you let someone more experienced take over. Yes, you've been through a lot, but you were also through some very real danger today, and we're just afraid of what will happen if you're in danger again."

"But the whole world is in danger now!" Sofia reminded them. "I can do this! I know it! If I don't go along, then I won't be able to help, and what if they need me?"

"Sofia!" Roland snapped. "Do as we say and stay home!"

Ven gasped. Bit his lip. Then said, "…For what it's worth, actually, I think she should come."

"WHAT?" Stork and Papyrus gaped at him.

"If nothing else," Ven continued hurriedly, "I'll take full responsibility for her. I'll make sure she stays safe personally, and if things get bad, I have a skimmer that's all mine and I can take her right back here. I just…I was like her, once. I had a family who had much worse reasons than yours for trying to keep me in one place. But I never learned what I could really do until I tried. I used to think maybe all I did was make things worse. But now I'm starting to realize that maybe…things would've been worse if I HADN'T left home."
Papyrus nodded. "FROM WHAT YOU'VE TOLD ME, YOU HELPED MANY PEOPLE. SNOW WHITE, CINDERELLA, AURORA – "

"Wait, what?" Sofia gasped. "You KNOW Snow White, Cinderella, and Aurora? Me too!"

"Guess I forgot to mention!" Ven beamed. "Though that was…a while ago."

"You don't mean before the Great Darkness," Amber gasped.

"Yeah," Ven said. "I do. Though I kinda slept through that whole part."

"How do you SLEEP through the Great Darkness?" James asked.

"It's a long story," Ven told him. "It's…not really a happy story either, so let's just leave it there for now."

"I'm actually starting to agree with Ven," Rapunzel said. "When I met Sofia the first time, she'd come all the way to the dragons' domain trying to find a way to fight a villain who took over the whole kingdom. That's some pretty impressive stuff for her age. At that age…well, I was still living in the same tower as always, and I think I was just figuring out how to blend watercolors for lighting effects. If anyone can handle herself, it's Sofia. But then again, Ven can always bring her back home."

"…GREAT, NOW YOU'VE CONVINCED ME," Papyrus sighed. "AFTER ALL, FRISK WAS YOUNG AS WELL, AND WITHOUT THEM, I WOULDN'T BE HERE."

Stork rolled his eyes. "If you're gonna bring her along, then the least I can do is keep an extra eye on her to make SURE nothing else awful happens."

"Maybe you forgot," Everburn chimed in, "but you'll need a way to fly up to the Isles, and we've got a bone to pick with those…what'd you call 'em? Whack-a-mole?"

"WHAM ARMY," Ven, Papyrus, Rapunzel, and Stork said as one.

"So us dragons are coming along too!" Everburn said, puffing out his chest. "We'll give you a lift!"

"Wish we could come," Aqualina sulked. "But unless the Mystic Isles magically become islands floating on real water, that's out of the cards for now."

"I never approved of this – " Roland began.

Miranda shook her head. "Sofia…you've always been headstrong. I may not be completely comfortable with the idea of you heading into such danger…but I also know if you have your heart set on it, it'll be hard to stop you."

Sofia had just been thinking about how with the amulet returned, she would be able to crawl through the walls unnoticed, making an escape to find her own way to the Isles after the fact. "So you're saying I can go?"

Miranda nodded. "You can go. But ONLY because Rapunzel and her friends will be looking after you."

"Be sure to tell me all about it when you get back!" Amber gasped. "Oh, and if you happen to stop on, say, an Isle of Magic Amulets, could you bring me one?"

James swung a fist; "Go kick some butt!"

"I'll be able to tell you everything," Sofia promised. "We'll see about the amulet."

"All right, then!" Everburn swallowed the last of his food. "Finish up, last bathroom call, and then it's a red-eye to the Mystic Isles!"

After dinner, everyone hurried to take care of last-minute needs, such as that bathroom call. Rapunzel stumbled across Stork around a corner, in a secluded hallway, breathing heavy and fast.

"You're afraid," she said.

"Yeah," Stork panted. "But it'll be fine. It'll be fine! It's always fine with – oh, who am I kidding, it's not fine, it WON'T be fine, we're heading straight into our own doom this time – "

Without thinking, Rapunzel quickly grabbed for his hand, cradling it gently in her own. "I think it is gonna be fine," she said softly. "But…can I tell you something?"

"What? Because I'm gonna say right now there's nothing you can do that will magically fill me with the required positivity to NOT be certain of at least one of the thirty graphic demises I'm imagining for us."

"No, it's not…" Rapunzel sighed. "The truth is, I'm scared too. I'm ALWAYS scared. I grew up in only a few small rooms and I was told everything was dangerous, and it turned out the danger got inside those rooms, too. Every time we start out on adventures, I wonder…what if this is the time I run into what Moth – what Gothel warned me about? Cannibals, thugs, the plague? But I always tell myself…that I'm still here after everything. That every time I've stepped outside my boundaries…I've come back. And I'm a lot better for it. So…there's a part of me that agrees with you. That maybe we should just stay here and not even risk anything. It's easy for me to tell Sofia that risk is important, but…not as easy for me to get it myself. But I know I have to do this. And when we're all together…we're gonna be a lot safer, right?"

Stork could only stare wide-eyed.

"So how about this?" Rapunzel told him. "You…can still back out, you know. But if you come along, I'll look out for you, okay? I'll make sure you get out of this in one piece, even if I don't. That's what it's about."

"Okay, first of all, I think we all know I'm going no matter how much I complain or feel certain of our imminent death," Stork told her. "Second…I can't make you do that."

"Well, too bad, because I'm doing it."

"Then you better let me look out for you in return," Stork insisted. "Trust me, I've dealt with things up to and including the Black Gorge itself. I know how to survive. Not that you don't, but I can definitely make sure you will. After all, I know I'm probably going to suffer an early and tragic doom at some point, so if it comes down to you or me, I can always just give in to the inevitable, and then you'll…you'll be safe."

"So how about we both come back alive?" Rapunzel told him. "You look out for me, and I look out for you. Like we're standing back-to-back!"

"I can live with that." Stork smiled softly.

She let go of his hand – he didn't want her to – and raised her palm in the air. "High-five to seal the deal!"

Stork slapped her hand. Rather gently and awkwardly, but still the deal was sealed.

"All RIGHT!" Rapunzel cried. "I promise we're both coming back all right. And I always, ALWAYS keep my promises. Now let's go!"

She ran back down the hall to the others, smiling brightly. Stork wondered if she was faking it or if she really had been made a lot more enthusiastic by their promise. Either way, it gave him reason to smile, too, and he followed her with a little more spring in his own step.

...

Mosquito Marsh's primary city was adorned with lights for Mardi Gras, casting the nighttime city in an overall glow of violet, gold, and vibrant green. As much as the city had gone all-out for its Carnival of the Dead, it was even more abuzz for Fat Tuesday, with thronging crowds of humans, animals, ghosts, and skeletons lining the parade route. Majestic floats smoothly glided down Main Street as jazz bands played in between. Goodies were thrown into the audience from every float, filling the sky with sparkling trinkets.

The heist began with a float, of course. Inside of it, in the small area they called "backstage," Snatcher and Harley awaited. Snatcher had gone full Frou Frou mode for this, outfitted in a gown that was a shimmering, ruffly confection of the Mardi Gras colors. His wig was golden-blonde, shot through with streaks of green and purple. Harley, on the other hand, wore a similar outfit to her normal jester's garb, but mainly purple, with gold and green accents.

Their third hustled into the float from the street. "It's about time, Miss Bandicoot," Snatcher growled.

"Ooh, nice dress!" Harley gasped.

Tawna wore a minidress that was striped gold, purple, and green, with simple shoulder-bearing straps. "Thanks!" she told Harley. "Actually, the reason I'm late is it took me a while to find this. Well, not this in particular, these are a dime a dozen out there, but I was originally gonna go for a different look. Didn't pan out, though, and it would've looked silly in these colors anyway."

"Oh?" Harley replied. "Do tell!"

"Okay," Tawna said, "so…bear with me. I know this is the only time it's happened in history ever, but there was a…space-time incident a while ago, and now there's a second me running around right here and now on this world. From a different timeline. Also not a gangster. That's just me. …Is that too weird to understand?"

"I absolutely regret to inform you that I am all too familiar with the concept," Snatcher sighed, thinking about Deymos. "Do proceed."

"Anyway, she's a total goody-two-shoes," Tawna went on. "And that's fine! I'm not judging! It just means she and I don't really get along that well. Which makes me mad because she has a way better aesthetic than I do! I so wish I'd come up with it first because it'd be PERFECT to go with the Pinstripe gang. She's got this post-apocalyptic thing going on, in pink and blue, with these patchy pants and this jacket, fingerless gloves, she's even got a mohawk and it's streaked with blue! It's SO cool, and of COURSE it's my dream outfit because she's ME, but I obviously can't wear it or else people will think I'm her and she's me. …Unless I used that as a disguise for a heist, but it would only work once."

"With all due respect, Miss Bandicoot," Snatcher pointed out, "we are departing this world very shortly, and unless your morally-stunted counterpart decides to do the same, there won't be any danger of mistaking one for the other again."

"So you can wear the cool apocalyptic outfit!" Harley told her. "In fact, once we rack up the loot from this parade, let's go shoppin'! We'll find you the exact thing, and get your hair done, too!"

"FIND her the exact ensemble?" Snatcher scoffed. "It will look far more accurate if you let me CREATE the exact ensemble. That is, if you're certain not to skimp on the details."

"Oh my gosh, you guys, you're the greatest!" Tawna gushed. "Okay. Let's give that crowd all we got!"

It was fortunate timing, for that was when the emcee on the float's main stage announced, "LIVING AND GENTLEGHOSTS! MAY I PRESENT TO YOU…MADAME FROU FROU AND THE SNATCHETTES!"

Snatcher glowered at Harley, who'd signed them up with the act name. "WHAT have you just called us?"

"I'm a clown, Archie," Harley scoffed as she headed for the curtain. "First rule is ya gotta be able to laugh at yourself."

Snatcher couldn't argue with that. Mostly because he didn't have enough time.

He burst through a shining curtain of thin fabric, walking out onto the stage of the float and throwing his arms in the air to greet the raucous audience. A microphone was set at the float's head; Snatcher swaggered up to it as the beat kicked in through speakers at the float's rear.

In a dramatic soprano, he warbled, "If you see a faded sign at the side of the road, that says fifteen miles to the – "

"LOOOOOOVE SHACK!" Harley screamed, leaping high, and the crowd went wild. "Love shack, ye-a-a-ahhhh!" She made a gesture as though driving an invisible steering wheel; "I'm headed down the Atla-an-ta highway!"

Tawna spun toward her, landing so she and Harley were pressed back-to-back as they harmonized, "Lookin' for the looooove getawaaaaay! Head-ed for the loooove getawaaaay!"

Snatcher still continued to pour an absurd amount of operatic vibrato into "I've got me a car; it's as big as a while! And we're headed on down to the love shack!"

The audience was enthralled completely – as usual, Frou Frou was drawing eyes and stealing hearts, and those who weren't impressed with her (him) were filled with energy watching Harley and Tawna bound around and scream out the backing vocals. It was a giant diversion, and it was working.

For Harley's sake, they'd agreed on a no-murder heist. Almost. ("Okay, you can kill ONE person," Harley had growled, "but it better not be where I can see it!") So while Pinstripe chose a don of a rival gang to pump full of lead in a back alley, far from Harley's line of sight, Roman led Foulfellow and Gideon on a pickpocketing escapade, following along with the Frou Frou float and lifting precious items from whoever's eyes were trained on it.

Pinstripe eventually rejoined them. He wasn't great at subtlety, so Foulfellow ended up having to teach him the art of pickpocketing. Pinstripe wasn't a natural – more than once Foulfellow slapped his wrist for going in without enough subtlety.

"It's like you WANT to be seen and heard!" Foulfellow scoffed.

"Usually, I do!" Pinstripe argued. "Ugh, when we ditch the dame with the conscience, I can use bombs again, right?"

"This operation HINGES on you using bombs," Roman told him. "Though we're not…ditching her. Just cohabitating the same mission."

"Why are we traveling with a bunch of softhearts again?"

"One: for the entertainment value. Two: to get back one of our guys. Girls. It's a girl but she's one of the guys in the gang."

"Ah, I get it." Pinstripe nodded. "Ain't got nothin' if you don't got loyalty. Just gotta make sure it's to the right person. I made that mistake once already."

"I'm supposing you were in the thrall of that Dr. Cortex fellow whose warp rooms we repurposed," Foulfellow guessed.

"Yeah," Pinstripe sighed. "Promised me fame, fortune, power, money, TNT, the works if I submitted to his experiments. He had me eatin' outta the palm of his hand! Literally, before he mutated me to be more person-like!"

"Oh, dear, how awful!" Foulfellow gasped. "However did you break free?"

Pinstripe looked up to the float where Tawna was shaking a fist in the air. "Tawny escaped. He made me bring her back in. We had a little…chat. Put things into perspective. After her ex knocked me into next Tuesday, I was over and done with Cortex grunt work. Then I went and found her. It was a long shot, wonderin' if she'd come to the dark side…but she took to it like a black widow spider takes to hidin' in shoes." His smile was downright silly. "I guess I owe her everything."

Then, changing moods entirely, he elbowed Roman in the side twice. "But you know all about that, right? I've seen how you look at Archie there."

Roman could hardly deny that during the conversation, he'd let his attention wander up to the float, where Snatcher was shimmying seductively. "Yeah, you know it," he affirmed. "The perfect halves of a two-man con. Example: right now. He brings the flair and I bring the action."

Snatcher, spotting Roman's stare, blew him a kiss directly. Roman pantomimed catching it and slapping it to his cheek, then rubbing it all over his face with a most immodest expression. After all, if Snatcher got to sexually frustrate him in the midst of a heist, he could only repay the favor.

After yelling "TIIIIIIN ROOF! Rust!", Tawna reached for a nearby bowl, grasping a fistful of beads and chucking them straight at Pinstripe. He raised his machine gun, the necklaces catching on the barrel.

"Will you put that thing away?" Foulfellow shoved at the gun. "It's going to draw more attention than the diversion!"

"C'mon, it's Mardi Gras," Pinstripe responded. "I can say it's part of a costume."

"You can't just say it's part of a costume!" Foulfellow argued. Then he thought about it. "Actually, you probably COULD get away with saying it's part of a costume…"

"Cosplay gun," Roman offered. "You see 'em all the time at Huntsman Appreciation Conventions."

Then they went back to pocket-raiding.

The entire group reconvened atop a roof later. The pickpocket contingent had acquired cheese-free po' boy sandwiches, with shellfish of all types, without exactly paying for them. Meanwhile, Snatcher had managed to wrangle vegan King Cake for the group, having paid by a method also not completely legal but one that was traditional for Mardi Gras.

"But HOW?" Roman gaped. "You don't have any…" He gestured in circles on his own chest.

"There's still many a man who's driven mad by the smaller side of things," Snatcher said coyly. "I know you've never minded."

"Yeah, but I'm gay. The straights and Harley tend to go for the giant bazonkers."

"Guilty as charged!" Harley laughed.

"A vegan dealer would of course have less common taste," Snatcher teased. "Though I daresay he would've been disappointed if he'd wanted a look up the skirt instead."

"Oh, now I DEFINITELY never am," Roman said with a smirk. "Anyway, before this ends up going somewhere that will make all our kids here need brain bleach, what's our total net worth?"

They counted up thousands of dollars.

"Well, I'd about say that settles it," Pinstripe declared. "This WHAM ARMY operation brings in the big bucks, all right. Count me in!"

"You won't regret it," Roman told him as they shook on it.

"Which means we gotta go shoppin' for Tawna!" Harley chirped.

"Oh, right!" Pinstripe realized. "Now that we're gettin' away from the inferior Tawny, you can finally steal her look like ya always wanted!"

"Bingo!" Tawna cracked a finger-gun at Pinstripe. "Also, all this talk of our bosses getting down and dirty has made me feel a little…spicy myself. You wanna find somewhere out of sight and call it our 'last bathroom break'?"

"You know it, baby," Pinstripe replied with a hungry leer. "And don't go easy on me, all right?"

"Never do," Tawna said with a wink.

"This is makin' me miss Yang," Harley sighed.

"This is making me miss normal conversation in which I'm not forced to picture my friends indecently," Foulfellow grumbled. "Also, should we really be spending this much time on detours? The others could have cracked the entire temple without us!"

"Yeah, but here's the thing," Roman told him. "First of all, they haven't. Call it intuition, or call it an accurate assessment that John Thicksoup probably can't destroy a paper bag properly. Second…be that as it may, wouldn't it be SO much more fun if we took our sweet time getting back and we STILL beat them to the punch?"

"I should think it would add all sorts of insult to the injury," Snatcher said with a grin.

"Which reminds me, we need one more pit stop," Roman told Pinstripe. "You know those Nitro Crates you mentioned earlier?"

"Yeah!" Pinstripe replied. "I like where this is goin'."

"We're gonna need about five hundred of 'em," Roman informed him slyly.

...

To await Arista's return, Morgana, Yzma, Wuya, Undertow, Cloak, Dagger, Mera, Prisma, Indus, the Lobster Mobster, and Shrimp pooled outside the cavern, quite a motley yet glamorous crew indeed.

It wasn't too long before the red-tailed mermaid came zipping through the waters toward them, Triton's trident in hand. "I got it!" she panted. "It wasn't easy, but I got it!"

"Oh, wonderful, WONDERFUL!" Morgana extended her hand. "Now give it here, and you'll have your crystal!"

Arista kept up her beeline toward Morgana, toward her outstretched hand, holding out the trident –

She pulled up short. She retracted the arm holding the trident. "I…I'm having second thoughts," she said, voice quavering.

"Second thoughts?" Morgana asked, sweet as honey. "Second thoughts about what, dear?"
"There's a reason this trident is kept under lock and key most of the time," Arista mumbled. "This might not be right. It'll get Daddy's attention for sure…but what if something bad happens?"

"My dear," Morgana told her, "if there's anyone you can trust in this whole ocean, it's me! Haven't I promised you everything you wanted?"

"Yes, but – "

"And haven't I sympathized with your familial struggles?"

"I'm not saying you're bad," Arista said softly. "I'm just saying…I made a mistake offering this. I don't want the deal anymore."

Morgana slid toward Arista, tentacles oozing around her as Morgana's bony hands clamped Arista's shoulders. "Well, I did say you could call it off any old time," she said. "But make sure that's what you want first. After all, my friends and I have treated you like family. Your own family hasn't treated you like family! You're lucky they even get to keep you around instead of you taking off and making your own name in another ocean."

"You really could've fit in well with us," Mera added. "We're just a bunch of misfits that no one paid attention to."

"But of course, we're not asking you to leave them," Morgana went on. "You love them! We're offering you a happy ending to all your troubles. And if you don't take it…well, I'm sure they won't ignore you forever. I'm sure there's no favorite daughter who will steal the spotlight from you. And your Daddy dearest definitely wouldn't forget your entire existence…would he?"

Morgana's words put thoughts into Arista's head. Thoughts of Triton forgetting he had seven daughters, of Ariel and Attina being the stars of the show, of Arista never being spoken to again. In her daymare, she clearly saw Adella running into her in a hall and saying, "I'm sorry, who are you?"
Arista's brow furrowed. "I can't let that happen."

Morgana positioned herself in front of Arista, holding out her hand once more. "Then you know what you have to do. It's for your own good. I promise you that when all's said and done, your family will be paying you all the attention you could ever get."

"And you'll always be noticed and admired by the person who matters most in your life," Prisma added.

Arista inhaled deeply, then passed the trident over. "Make me a crystal!"

Instead of doing that, Morgana hoisted the trident above her head with both hands, expelling green lightning from it every which way. "AT LAAAAST! ALL THE SEVEN SEAS AT MY COMMAND! TAKE THAT, URSULA!"

Arista immediately realized her mistake. "WAIT! NO!"

"I can't believe you were so STUPID!" Morgana slapped her lower tentacles as though they were knees. "But I can't complain too much. After all, if you weren't a complete and total AIRHEAD, I wouldn't have this, now, would I?"

"Oh no," Arista gasped. "What have I done…"

"Morgana!" Prisma chimed in like a bell. "We did make the girl a promise. And I always keep my promises!"

"Oh, you're right!" Morgana said mockingly. "Shall we?"

She aimed the trident; Prisma pointed the Terra Crystal directly at it. "CRYSTALLO!"

Both magic implements emitted beams of light, colliding in between, burning with a white-hot glow. When the light subsided, there was another crystal, ruby-red like the dud Arista wore, hovering in the ocean.

She couldn't hold back. Arista grabbed it, hoping there was some secret happy ending to this story.

"As it turns out," Yzma said slyly, "as far as getting attention, I'm certain your father and sisters will remember that YOU were the one who doomed the whole world to my control."

"MY control," Morgana corrected.

"Morgana's control as a subsidiary of Yzmopolis," Yzma corrected.

Morgana nodded. "Better."

"And they definitely won't forget it," Yzma hissed. "EVER!"

Arista clutched the crystal tightly. "Please…"

A plane of magic materialized in front of her, solidifying, becoming an object.

"I said you'd always be noticed by the person who was most important to you!" Prisma giggled maniacally. "And I think you proved exactly who that is!"

The object was a mirror. The sole purpose of Arista's crystal was to summon mirrors, allowing her to behold herself in all her pathetic glory.

"Now LET'S GET THIS PARTY STARTED!" Morgana held the trident high, swirling it in the water. Chunks of ocean were freezing, flying into an intricate pattern.

As the behemoth of ice rose from the water, Wuya flitted to Arista, giving her a smirk and the coup de grace: "You remember what I said about not listening to other people and finding your own worth? You didn't take my advice at all, and that's the most delicious part."

Tears slid down Arista's face as Wuya took off to join the rising ice.

It rose in the night, beneath a pearly full moon: a fortress of ice, decorated with buttresses and spines, topped with a throne upon which Morgana sat languidly. On the tiers below her, the others had their own thrones – Yzma, Wuya, Mera, Indus, Prisma, the Lobster Mobster. All humans had become so again, wearing their prior ensembles. Shrimp and Undertow cheered them on from in the ocean.

"Nice goin', boss!" Shrimp yelled.

"NICER GOING THAN HIS BOSS, MORGANA!" Undertow bellowed.

"…Well, you didn't hafta be mean about it," Shrimp pouted.

By now, Triton had noted the disturbance. He and the rest of the family charged out into the open sea, finding Arista before they could even get to Morgana's bastion.

"Arista!" Triton bellowed. "What's happened?"

The dam broke. She bawled. "I'M SORRY! I SHOULD'VE KNOWN! THIS IS ALL MY FAULT!"

"And now we wait for the cavalry to arrive," Morgana announced. "Oh, this should be fun!"

Arista had finished her story. Triton glowered at her. "We'll discuss this later," he told her. "As of now, I've got to stop Morgana, and you should stay clear of it!"

"But I need to fix my mistake!" Arista protested. "It's not even really a mistake! I knew it was wrong! I have to be the one!"

"Arista, I FORBID you from going anywhere near Morgana!" Triton yelled. "You've caused enough trouble, and the only thing that could make this any worse is if I lost you at the hands of that crazed sea witch! You and your sisters are going to stay down here where it's SAFE!"

"Daddy, no!" Ariel protested. "Not even me? I've fought alongside Keybearers!"

"My word is final!" Triton argued. "You will all stay out of harm's way! THAT'S AN ORDER!" And he shot off toward the surface.

"Well, this stinks." Alana gave a huff.

"The only thing that could make it worse…is if he lost me?" Arista repeated in shock. "But…but he hardly cares about me! Just about Ariel and Attina and Adella – "

"Actually, I bother him a whole lot," Adella said, "which is probably why he and I hang out so much. I just like family bonding in all its forms, and he's the only one who has any time these days anyway!"

"I have no idea if I'm even cared about," Attina admitted. "I mean…I know I am. But I've just realized I haven't left my study in weeks except to get food…I don't even know what's going on in my own home!"

"Daddy cares about all of us," Ariel told Arista. "He just has a bad temper, and sometimes, he's not great at showing how he really feels. Believe me, I know the reason I get so much attention is because I make the biggest waves, and that's not always a good thing. I always thought he loved you way more than me because you played by the rules!"

"Maybe I haven't been helping either," Alana admitted. "I've…kinda been causing stress around the castle by taking up the troublemaker title."

"Alana, YOU?" Ariel laughed.

They kept talking it out. Knowing there was only so long they could actually stay out of it.

Triton breached, with legions of mer-soldiers behind him. "MORGANA!" he bellowed, pointing up at her. "YOUR REIGN HAS COME TO AN END!"

Sebastian popped up beside him; "AN END TO THE REIGN! IT'S REALLY PATHETIC COMPARED TO URSULA'S ANYWAY!"

Morgana's lip curled.

"IT ENDS NOW!" Triton reiterated.

Morgana broke out laughing; "What're you gonna do? Throw the crab at me?"

Indus bellowed even louder laughter. "THROW THE CRAB – OH THAT IS HILARIOUS!" There was a soft "bonk" on his head. "Ouch!"

The Lobster Mobster had thrown his hat at Indus. "It's like Shrimp took a year at the aqua-gym," he sighed. "Hey, Tarbella, SHUUUUT UUUUUP!"

"You want me to take care of this?" Wuya yelled at Morgana. "Or you got it?"

"I want the first crack at them!" Morgana yelled down. "My first decree as ruler of the Seven Seas is that Triton will bow to ME!"

She pointed the trident at him sharply. A beam of sickly green surged out toward him, enveloping him. He was forced to prostrate.

"Your Majesty!" Sebastian gasped. "No!"

"Sebastian," Triton coughed. "Find a way to…stop her…"

"ALL GUARDS FIRE ON THE WITCH!" Sebastian cried.

The legion of mermen began to hurl sharpened-shell spears, only for Wuya to shoot them down individually and at lightning speed with ethereal bullets that she propelled from finger-guns. When there were no more spears in the air, she blew the smoke off one of her index fingers, giving the soldiers a wink.

Morgana gave a high-pitched shriek; Scuttle the seagull, noticing the trouble, had flown in and grabbed at her hair, pulling it sharply. "YOU ARE A BAD LADY!" he scolded.

"GET – OFF – ME!" Morgana spat. "ONE OF YOU TAKE CARE OF THIS!"

A Barrier appeared in the air and slapped Scuttle away from Morgana, sending him tumbling tail over wings with a "WaaaAAAaaaAAA!"

"You are welcome!" Indus yelled.

"Oh yeah?" Sebastian resolved. "If you want somet'ing done right…you've got to do it yourself!"

He plopped onto the base of the ice fortress, intending to climb it and snap at Morgana's fingers until she let go of the precious trident. Before he could even start to attempt such a thing, the Lobster Mobster planted his bulk down in front of Sebastian. "Now, where do you think you're goin?"

"YOU!" Sebastian spat. "YOU THINK I'M GOING TO BE STOPPED BY A TWO-SAND-DOLLAR GANGSTER LIKE YOU? THINK AGAIN!"

To which the Lobster Mobster simply picked Sebastian up by one claw, spun him around over his head, and threw him out to sea, skipping like a screaming stone.

"YOUR MAJESTY!" one of the soldiers cried. "ASSISTANCE FROM THE SURFACE!"

The massive ice fortress was visible from the nearest shore, meaning Prince Eric had seen trouble and immediately rallied his navy to sail in and protect the aquatic side of his family. The ships were coming in at full sail.

"Hey, Prisma!" Mera yelled. "I got an idea! Make a big crystal, and give it magic that hurts!"

Prisma spun her Terra Crystal; "CRYSTALLO!"

Some of the ice of the fortress broke away to provide the magic, transmuting into what seemed a shimmering diamond. Diamonds are, for the most part, unbreakable. However…

"This is gonna be fun." Mera put out her hand, sending the very essence of Fragile into the massive crystal. It broke into as many shards as there were ships, sharp and charged with magic. Then Mera flicked her wrist, and the crystal shards targeted the ships, flying toward them.

The effect was as if heat-seeking bombs had been launched. No amount of turning could avoid the crystal's flight, and when it impacted, the ship affected would gain a massive hole blown in its hull. Eric's men tumbled into the water, as did Eric himself.

Triton's guard tried to mount a counterattack, getting in formation for a surprise blow, when the bottles of pink liquid rained down on them from above. When the uncorked bottles hit the water, suddenly, they were no longer mermen. They were sea urchins, starfish, a baby Harp seal, and a handful of blobfish.

"That NEVER gets old!" Yzma cackled, readying more potions.

Down below, the mermaids could hear the commotion. "We can't just sit back and let this happen!" Ariel insisted.

"We're joining the fight NOW," Attina said through gritted teeth, and the seven sisters headed for the surface.

As they breached, Arista pleaded, "I have to find a way to set this right! There has to be some way! Ariel, isn't there some kind of…secret weapon you discovered on your adventures that we could pick up and use?"

Ariel's eye was caught by the sky. "It's a full moon!" she gasped. "Wait…how do I even know about…" She turned to Arista. "I don't know how I know this, but the full moon means there's something we can try! I can't do it, though, and I can't explain why!"

"Then show me!" Arista urged.

"Follow me!" Ariel plunged beneath the waves.

She led Arista outside the kingdom's borders, away from the battle, to a rocky outcropping that would've been difficult to find without a map, given the way the trail wound between cliffs. The destination ended up being a cavern that looked like a sleeping face with a wide-open mouth.

"Morrie sold me a map to this place once," Ariel explained. "But when I got here, I had the strangest feeling that I shouldn't play with the forces inside. The cave gives you magic powers. I just have this feeling deep down inside that if I try to use it, there'll be trouble! But if you can use those powers against Morgana…you'll have them as long as the moon is out, and I DON'T know how I know that!"

"Are you even serious?" Arista snapped. "Ariel, this is no time for jokes!"

"Oh, she's completely serious," said the cave. Its eyes had snapped open.

Arista let out a sea-curdling shriek.

"I take it you've never seen a magic cave before," the cave replied. "But your friend is right. If one of you were to enter my mouth right now, you would gain magical powers that lasted as long as the full moon, effectively making you a sea witch." He gave a curious look to Ariel. "I get the strangest feeling you'd make a powerful witch, if a little unrefined. Probably the kind who'd blow all of it on one big spell and be done with it."

"It's gonna be me," Arista decided. "I'll be the witch."

"If you're sure," the cave said, opening its mouth wide. "Come on inside."

Arista looked nervously to Ariel. "Are you sure it's not gonna just eat me?"

"I know it won't," Ariel told her. "I know it'll work, but I don't know how I know that! Please, just trust me!"

"If there's anyone I can trust," Arista said with a nod, "it's you, and the rest of my family. I know that now."

Into the cave she sped, passing rock walls that deepened in red color the further she went until they went to burgundy and finally black. Then, out of nowhere, a flash of beautiful light.

Attina had managed to use her diplomatic ways to convince a host of civilian sea creatures to take up arms against Morgana. In response, Mera and Prisma shattered more giant crystals, shooting projectiles in the water as the army dodged this way and that to avoid the curses. And for those who did, Undertow was taking advantage of what seemed to him to be a fresh buffet, snapping at whoever was in reach.

"IT'S RAINING CRYSTALS!" Prisma cried gleefully. "HALLELUJAH! Mera, we make such a great team!"

"Yeah," Mera replied with a smile. Prisma's energy was getting to her again. "We do, don't we?"

Atop the fortress, Morgana was taking a break from the battle, seeing how the most important forces had been incapacitated. Right now she was doing some redecorating.

"Put an 'M' on it," she said.

Wuya and Yzma stood to either side of her throne. Wuya cast a hand to the sky, and then the moon suddenly gained a massive black sigil, an "M" for Morgana.

"Make it curlier," Yzma demanded.

So Wuya obliged.

"A little to the right," Yzma advised.

Wuya swiped her finger as though on a phone app, and the M shifted slightly.

"…Less curly," Yzma decided.

"IS THIS YOUR MOON OR MINE?" Morgana snapped.

Yzma threw both hands behind her back, throwing on an innocent expression. "Sorry!"

Morgana squinted up at it. "…Less curly," she decided.

A massive geyser of water burst from the ocean. Riding its summit, Arista now wore a miniature golden crown and a purple half-cape. In her hand was a scepter that glimmered the same color as the crown.

"Hey, MORGANA!" Arista snapped.

"Wha - ?" Morgana turned to behold her. "A SEA WITCH?"

Arista smirked. "Just because one or two of you went off the deep end doesn't mean we all are."

After a pause, Yzma said, "You set yourself up for that one."

"Shut up!" Morgana snapped.

Arista pointed the scepter. "Which of us do you think is the stronger witch, huh?"

Morgana gave a mocking laugh. "I should think that one's obvious. But if you really wanna become shark chum so badly, I'm sure Undertow would be thankful for the free meal!"

She spun the trident to point at Arista, firing a vibrant green beam from its prongs. Arista responded by shooting pure red light from her scepter.

(Even though she had faith in Morgana, even though she knew Arista hadn't even aimed there – Wuya took a defensive pose in front of Yzma, limbs spread, ready to deflect the magic before it could hurt her lover.)

The two energies clashed, and Morgana was stunned to see that the green didn't immediately overpower the red. Instead, the energies met in the middle, sometimes the red gaining, sometimes the green.

"HOW CAN THIS BE?" Morgana yelled.

On the way back from the cave, Ariel had told Arista one more thing. Something once said to her by a special friend. "Because I'm doing this for my family," Arista seethed. "I'm protecting them now, because they always DID love me! And I love them! They're not just family; they're FRIENDS! AND MY FRIENDS ARE MY POWER!"

With that declaration, the red overpowered the green, shooting back toward Morgana.

"NO!"

With a massive cacophony of cracks, the ice fortress fell apart, plunging the WHAM ARMY into the waves below.

"UNDERTOW!" Morgana shrieked. "ROUNDUP!"

Undertow abandoned his quest for sushi, zooming through the water. He caught everyone who'd fallen, one by one – Morgana, Yzma, Wuya, Mera, Prisma, Indus, the Lobster Mobster. Then Shrimp, loath as he was to do so. He rounded them up into one area, where they all tread water.

"I think this might be the part where we have to make a tactical exit…" Yzma laughed nervously.

"Don't worry," Wuya told her. "I got this."

They were surrounded by black water, a whirlpool forming. A thematically appropriate Corridor of Darkness. Then Wuya motioned as though pulling a cord, and with the sound of a toilet flushing, the WHAM ARMY was sucked down into the whirlpool, taken off-world entirely. Leaving behind a calm night beneath a full moon.

With the threat gone, Triton rushed immediately to find his family. The sisters all found each other, and then they crowded around Arista.

"That was AMAZING!" Adella gushed.

"Can you teach me how to have magic powers like that?" Aquata sighed dreamily.

"You saved all of us!" Alana threw her arms around Arista in a tight squeeze.

But Arista once again cried, not of joy but of sorrow. "This is what I always wanted," she sniffled. "For you to tell me how much you loved me."

"Oh, Arista…" Triton lamented. "I've always loved you. I guess that in trying to raise all seven of you…I haven't done a very good job dividing my time seven ways."

"But it shouldn't matter!" Arista yelled. "I gave away the trident, and now it's gone! Now that sea witch is on the loose! It's all my fault, and it was to get something I already had! I was so STUPID and so SELFISH!"

"Arista." Triton approached, and the other girls gave him a berth to place a hand on Arista's face. "What you've done…is a very serious matter. But no matter what, you will always be worth more to me than the trident. More than anything, I'm glad you're safe."

He took her into his arms, and Arista bawled harder. No amount of consolation would take away the guilt in that moment. Still and all, she was well aware this was an experience they would all grow from, and she suspected it would only make them stronger as a family.

"We should have a celebration party for getting rid of the witch," Alana suggested. "All of us, together. Nobody gets left out."

"That's a great idea!" Ariel gasped. "We should have music and treats and games…I've got so many ideas for how we can set it up!"

"Can I help make some of the food?" Adella asked. "And set up some of the games? Oh, and decorate!"

"But I have to finish reading A History of Sea Monsters tonight – " Attina began.

This earned her several glares.

"You know what?" Attina shrugged. "Sea monsters can wait. Family's more important tonight."

Indeed, few things were more important than family. Even Morgana's family, the only member of it left, had been keeping an eye on the situation, watching through a scrying bubble that projected into the Forbidden Mountains.

"Awww, how adorable!" Ursula cooed. "Little Morgana thinks she can come and play on my playground. Except even with Triton's ultimate power, she can't even beat a little mermaid sea-witch upstart in battle! And here I was thinking I might need to get involved. Then again, it's Morgana. There always will be bigger fish to fry than HER. Still and all…" She smirked. "I should've sensed the WHAM ARMY stench on her from the beginning. Perhaps I should keep an eye on wherever it is she's going. What kind of sister would I be if I didn't eventually check up on her?"