Hi guys! This is chapter three.

Chiro had thought so far of many possible questions to pose to the mysterious man, many of them beginning with "Why are you working with the Skeleton King?" and ending with a word Antauri would not be proud of him for saying. He doubted a feral, pajama-dressed fourteen-year-old would have much of an impression to the calculating, brisk-walking, emotionless man he was dealing with. Everything just seemed so, authoritarian, almost mechanical with him. To the young super robot monkey team leader, he seemed like the kind of man who would scold you coldly one moment for forgetting your coat in December and then walk outside in nothing but a nightshirt and bunny slippers. Most likely to scold you again for having thrown snowballs at his window.

The air was cold, and Chiro almost regretted running in pajamas to rescue the team instead of changing clothes for two minutes. He sometimes wondered how much more cartoonish could his life get. He was about to enter a supervillain's lair, unprepared, tired, famished, and worried out of his mind. Of course, he will not let these things show. If it were up to him, he'd kick Skeleton King's butt in two seconds flat before flashing a victory sign. But it wasn't up to him, and that made him feel just a bit vulnerable, like before. He tried to breathe deeply, to calm his overwrought nerves. In a last attempt at destressing, he began to sing in his own mind a mocking song he and Otto had made especially for the Skeleton King. It had over one hundred verses, but he was just concentrating on the first four.

"Bones so putrid and no nose,

Ranting evil with a hose.

Full of slimy, sticky goo,

Formless, uglier than poo!"

It was childish, but at the same time, he and Otto were proud of their masterpiece, and Chiro couldn't say that he was lying in the song, now could he? He and the man stopped inside a crimson, shiny ship. It had a Skeleton symbol, and would it not have it, Chiro might have loved its color and design, diamond-shaped. The inside seemed well isolated and decorated nicely with images of planets, galaxies, and constellations. If he stood on his tippy toes, he could see a picture of six robot monkeys in their infancy. Why would the Skeleton King own that?

"Waiting for special invitation?" the man snarked, wanting Chiro to enter the ship.

"What if I am?" Chiro asked fearlessly. He felt like being contrary just for the sake of it.

"Than by all means. Leader of the robot monkey team, Chosen one, Wielder of the power primate, and fan of plain, blue-colored pajamas, would you do me the uppermost honor to enter my humble ship? Someday today, so that I don't die of boredom."

"Well since you asked so kindly," Chiro snarked back, his lips twitching up. Despite his tone, he liked the man's personality. If he wasn't an evil minion, he might have made a friend out of him.

The boy stepped in and sat in a comfortable, plushy chair. The strange man accompanied him, sitting at Chiro's right. He was sitting cross-legged, careless as he took a rolled-up newspaper from his pocket. Shuggazoom Daily was the title. His entire attention seemed to be concentrating on the news, yet Chiro couldn't say that for certain. For all he knew, he was faking reading the newspaper in order to drive Chiro crazy. So the boy began staring, such intense was his stare that it could have burned holes into the print. Seeing as his tactic did nothing but produce a smirk to appear on the man's lips, the child began whistling and tapping intermittently on the desk nearest him. Tap, tap, tap...Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap!

"Is there a reason why you are acting so juvenile?" the man asked.

"Who are you? Why are you working for Skeleton King? Where are my friends? And please stop pretending to read the news," Chiro huffed.

"How did you know I was only pretending?"

"It would have put you to sleep already had you read it," he grumbled.

Being friends with the people who write the news had an advantage as far as discerning quality goes. That did not mean that Chiro would tell them how much their news stink. He did not want to shatter their dreams, plus he was not looking forward to being asked, again, if he might write about his adventure for his fans. It was embarrassing.

"I am number forty-five and that is all you're going to get out of me, little boy," Forty-five said.

"Just a number? No comment on why you're here making my life miserable?"

"I did not know this was the spanish inquisition, young man. Here I thought you had more manners."

"Here I thought you might have a heart and tell me where my friends are," Chiro shot back.

The man leveled him a stare and said "I am leading you to them."

"Yeah, right. What you are leading me to is most likely a trap,"

"You are welcome to leave if you so desire..."

Chiro didn't move a muscle.

"Didn't think so."

The boy groaned before smirking and asking, "So, can I call you Double F?"

"Absolutely not," FF responded, pursing his lips.

"Okay D.F."

"Hey D.F.?"

"I refuse to answer to that juvenile nickname, little one."

"Fine. Forty-five, what are we waiting for?" Chiro asked, seeing as the man continued to pretend read the newspaper.

"Galactic peace," the man said drily.

"It will be difficult to see galactic peace from the inside of a cell," Chiro quipped, then chewed on his lip and said, "How about we make sure that doesn't happen and become friends instead?"

"And here I thought you liked galactic peace," FF mused.

"You know what I mean..." Chiro told him, voice a touch desperate.

Forty-five stared at him for double the amount of his name before sighing and saying "Sorry, kid. Orders."

No sooner had those words been spoken than Mandarin arrived. Proud, smirking yet a little shaken, and scratched, almost as if he'd been fighting the Hyperforce. His orange skin had lost its glow from days gone past, the bandages making him seem like a sort of mummy. His back was straight, his black and red eyes staring triumphantly at Chiro, almost as if forty-five was inconsequential. He longed to have the boy by his side, as he had lost the love of his 'traitorous' family, Chiro being the last link to it. Plus he saw Chiro as a reflection of himself, and Chiro knew that Mandarin cared about himself a bit too much.

But right now, separated from his loved ones and in danger of losing them too, Chiro hated his guts.

"Mandarin, what have you done with my family?" Chiro demanded.

"All in due time, my hairless monkey," Mandarin answered cryptically.

End of Chapter three