Slam.
A wall boomed shut. The little cubicle shimmering bluish light was left in its own solitude. Somewhere behind that stone barricade, a shade of evilness floated cursing away. Once more this bleak room had received a habitant. Yoka. Despite all the brave attempts to flee, she was trapped again.
An illusionary time the girl had in half-panic ran along the underground tunnels. All the light had vanished, it was a tag of murk and blindness. His curses, raved with a cold, emotionless voice, had echoed somewhere behind her. Occasionally they had vanished, occasionally dreadfully approached the refugee. The way was nothing but headless roaming. By feeling about the walls with her hands, Yoka-hanen had survived to rush rather far away from the horrors of that cell. Although... was there any difference between the places? The air grew moldier second by second, the stone walls were covered with something disgustingly slimy and lardy. The floor under her bare soles was cold and slippery, also full of that soft mossy mucus. Spider webs often glued onto her face, putting her to spit in abhorrence. But she had set her mind to find a getaway... until the evitable horror had happened.
She had abruptly encountered light. And there that monster had stood, or rather hovered. A lantern swung in his grasp. The blear lumen painted a grin of devil on the Shadow's face. If there thus far had been even a crumb of false humanity left, now all that had vanished. There was no blueness any more in those irises. The pupils had reduced into two black holes that greedily sparkled sadistic brutality.
It was obvious that the crypt had been a maze. With corridors leading to who knew where. But perhaps that fiend knew it by heart...
And so... it was just an unequal battle, although the fierce woman put her full strength to oppose that sick beast calling himself Buzz Lightyear. But from somewhere the Shadow had picked up his one and only weapon, that weird stick producing green light of hurt. Zap. Blast. All over and over again, with the abominable cackling symphony ringing in the background, the silvery viper's mouth had spat out a pulse of pain. As the shoots went onwards, the grin on the man's face only widened, enjoying every screech of wrench the woman squalled as the laser-plasma hit her. Soon she was writhing on the floor on her fours as the pain took over. It was all deliberate torture, that demon wanted to avenge every single smart she had caused him. From the first hit of his arm in the house... to the kicks that were aimed to his already weak legs.
The Shadow's mind had turned back to the old memories he still cultivated in his twisted soul. This had been his joy, always his joy, to see innocent people screaming and crawling in front of him. But year by year, the sadistic thirst for violence had only grown more macabre. It had been a while he had seen someone shrieking and crying like this. Thus the sick enjoyment in his black heart grew second by second. One more shot, and one more... still one more... until the girl had become silent.
A few moments later, the Kalevan was thrown back in her old prison. With a moan, she had received her consciousness back. Yet, the dark world swirled in her eyes like some morbid merry-go-round. When the wall slid back, weakly she attempted rising up. The wrench was stinging, something acid burned in her muscles. But the road was blocked also by a second means; tight-tied ropes had appeared around her wrists and ankles.
The woman's mind stormed amidst the physical and emotional misery. So beautiful and sweet had been the words... love, softness, warmth...? And all that was left, was that icy hoot dancing around her head. Proud Crescent wanted to finish her off and for sure?
"I'd never hurt you..."
Beautiful lies, had they been just that? Beautiful, sugar-coated lies...
And if only she had known and understood, that the darkness overruling here was not the mellow space ranger Buzz Lightyear, who had fallen deeply in love with her.
In his own small berth, the Shadow sat down to snarl and think. He had loosened his boots, and carefully wrapped his trouser legs up. His legs felt almost numb below the kneeline, the skin getting yellowish-blue with a visible speed. Capillaries broke apart on their own. A great pain spread upwards from the leg muscles that still had some sensation left.
This bad his lower limbs had not been in ages. Not since he fell down the main staircase after the treedoor, and broke his both shinbones. Then, with his last strength, balancing listlessly on those hover boots that were his only hope and aid, he had zoomed to the village. The bluest night it had been... there was a lonely house near the forest's edge. Doctor Nameless, the initials and everything long time ago blanched away from the foe's memory, had resisted his time. But under the command of the viper cane, even he had fallen. And voluntarily walked the miles in the dark bushes beneath the Shadow's eye. Equilibrium of terror had lasted a while; then the doctor's cooperation had turned fruitless. A few tense cures were the result, to return the peril's legs at least to the state they had been before the accident. Weak, yes, but still so firm that he was able stand without needing to seek for support from a walking-stick.
Under his breath, the male cursed hard. So much for help... with the aid of the modern iatrology and chirurgery, it was easy to rebuild offals, bones, or almost anything, generally in a blink of eye -compared to the methods used thousands of years ago. This world was no different from the Shadow's one; the technology was the same. The only catastrophic dissimilarity was, that he was not the same. Only a weak, pathetic shell...
Then, the cooperation had been gone. If there was no cooperation, the chances of healing up grew scarce. And not even forced cooperation. Doctor Nameless was stubborn... and decayed.
"Cursed woman..." he gurgled, spit dripping from his grimacing mouth, "I never understood that that chick was this strong. But she'll pay... pay a portion more tomorrow. Hmm... there's no point of actually killing her. If she's dead, she won't scream, she can't feel pain any longer if she's dead..."
He took an ampule, containing some liniment, from the nearby table. Ailing it was to rub it on the shanks, but perhaps it could help... at least a bit. No bones seemed to be shattered, that was the good news of the day.
"Blast... Who'd known that osteoporosis would lead me to the awakening doom...?" the male heaved a sigh, "I don't know... was it a curse or a blessing that I fell in hypersleep after I barely escaped the quakes... I had my suit, I didn't die. But craters, this is still almost like death, to creep here pathetically like a worm in mould... But who the heck has artificial gravitation generators in space suits, anyways? No gravitation, blam, already a few months in vacuum weaken the pathetic mortals. And why do I, I have to be one of those? I'd deserve more! Glory, immortality, supreme reign! And here I'm in some stinking dungeon with partial myasthenia and my too-frail bones! Craters!"
While chasing the Indian, he had neglected the handicaps. But now the understanding was given that at least a few days were needed rest, before he should dive out of the fortress. If he would go and oppose Lightyear in this state, he might err to do some fatal mistakes. Perhaps even reveal himself, which definitely was not an option yet.
Nonetheless, his secrets were safe. No-one could find this place. It had stood hundreds of years silent amidst the ancient greenness. And so it would furthermore stand and seal the riddles firmly in its chest.
--------------
The hours leaked too fast into sand. Buzz sat, frozen in a living-room chair. His thoughts had jammed in the bottom of a black swamp. Only slush of sorrow was around, mire that obliged him to sink deeper every time a tiny ray of sun reached the bed of this obscure hammock.
Options. What were those?
He would not mess anyone else in this.
It was just between him and that... that what? It had no name. Only that sick cackle and childish riddles. And how was it possible that... that something invisible was almost like him?
Buzz' cranial gearwheels rolled and rustily grated under the pressure of despondence. He had to be facing a Lightyear, or something equal. A distant relative? His whole family bathed in such a fog, he knew only a shard of his nearest kindreds. And still a while ago, not even them. His father had been gone twenty-six years... and what was it with these names he had heard just recently? Mizar and the alike... such dark, merciless individuals. As if the goodness in them had been fully strangled and choked. What could it mean, this all...? One logical conclusion was that demons equal to Mizar existed more. And someone knitted revenge against the Captain. Next, the questions fell down from the heavens as hot flaming stones.
Why?
Nonetheless, had Mizar's case had any real logic behind it? Money was the motive, but clearly nothing else. Had Zurg had motives? Surprisingly enough, he had had more. Also money, but added to emotional causes.
One of the space ranger's flaws perhaps was that he always sought for motives and logical tapestries behind everything. However, what if the logic did not exist? What if there were no motives?
Buzz absently glanced at the near hover table. A clock stood on it, grinning with the symbols 3:40 am. He winced. All that time he had just squatted here, without eating, without drinking. Just waiting for something to happen, deliberated the foe's strategies. The latter impasse seemed less hazy than everything else. The menace seemed to carry a decent strategy, though. And that was one of the oldest ways to break someone's neck; to strike at first the loved ones and then crush down the hero. A stereotypical cliché, but darkly efficient.
The dawn whitened, turning to morning. The sun climbed above the zenith, and gradually started falling back beyond the world's edge. Buzz waited, blankly, waited for the rival's next move. Yet, it seemed to dawdle, as if nothing was going to occur. A message, anything, more parchment... but as the tide started dusking, sweat drops of nervousness were back on his forehead.
Normal villains would come and give more threats, blackmailing, anything. And this definitely was not a joke. Yoka did not come back, how much Lightyear ever did rend his hair. That sneaky invisible larva should have contacted him... Abruptly the Captain recalled that he had plugged off his every com device. Even his own wrist communicator. In order to prevent any outsiders getting involved with this. If it was to be one of those common strike-the-family-first schemes, no relatives or friends should be drawn along in the first place. But what if the kidnapper wanted to contact him via vidphone? What if he had missed something crucial that way?
He scampered up to activate the com channel detectors of his video phone. But for his ultimate terror, the line was already reserved when the initial activation was done. An electronic announcer voice coming from the telecommunication satellite chirped,
"Welcome back to the Hybrid-Mode Datacommunication Service of Morph Digihouse Incorporated. Since of your last login, you have been tried to contact two-hundred seventy six times. If you wish to sort the call attempts, press---"
He looked thunderstruck at the screen. All those futile calls had come from Zurg. And even now, the primary line was beeping because of an incoming message. A large ominous Z was blinking in the small monitor.
"No!" the male groaned and hit the logoff button. With one yank, the cables were loose again. "He mustn't interfere! For his own safety!" Hence the com thingamajig quieted down. So... the unknown had not used this way to swear more spells. Sitting back down, the Morphean ultimately took another point of view concerning the whole chaos.
"I need to stay calm and not let the fear take control. I'd need a plan of some kind... so that I could find this twisted pawn of evil on my own. There has to be a way to track his hideout and figure out who lurks behind the mask of aberrant invisibility! That cursed, diabolic threat who foils the honor of my family!" He scowled, expelling now with a hushed voice, "...if he's another Lightyear."
There was one and half weeks holiday left before he would need to slouch back to job. At the last moment of the notorious workday, he had been granted with a longer vacation. The time he had then reserved to console and pamper her... Now those days would need to be used wisely. Precisely anything could happen in their range. The hazard's tentacles could spread out and take more innocent bystanders in their merciless grasp. Or... alternatively the space ranger could make the checkmate.
If only he had known where to start... with two pieces of parchment, an unforeseen opponent prying somewhere, perhaps spying him right at the moment... and the faint knowledge of this man resembling him by some means. Yet, the latter could be a clever trick, also.
What was even real knowledge?
----------------
The time did not lend a helping hand. The earth had swallowed both Yoka and the mystery man. Buzz' free days were drained in vanity. He searched, roamed, sorted the alternatives. With no blossoms.
On Capital Planet, a second person carried worries. A snarly shade clothed Zurg's expressions. A big angry fist was slammed against a table or a chair's armrest every five minutes.
"Why does not my son answer me? How dares he treat his glorious mighty father like this? GRARRRRHHHHH!" Again his claw was ready to hit the table. This time it unfortunately had an obstacle on its way, namely a plate with a big delicious muffin on it. As expected, his hand hit the treat. Splash, the dessert exploded together with its plate, sending slushy duff all over the place. It was one of those giant-sized muffins, thus it produced also a giant amount of mess. On the floor, a little grub in tuxedo shuddered. He had brought his master a tidbit, thinking that perhaps it would calm down the fierce old man.
"But Googly Bear! What have you done! Shame on you!" Mariañ walked in the room. Zora's lower lip began quivering with shame. There were muffin crumbs in his hair, in the ceiling, on the curtains.
"Shmoopsiepoo, I am apologizing my inconsiderate behavior", he murmured, "I have irresponsibly destroyed the first prototype muffin made by my superior new innovation; The Hyper-Muffin Ray. Oh the woe! Nana Zurg would not be proud of me now. Sniff. But..." he stood up and wiped the muss off his shirt, "...I am worried about my son. Something so strange happened that night when he hung up on me. And... it was already before, when this hazardous sensation of utter darkness crawled inside my heart, the black light of abysses fell upon me..."
Either the doating Emperor was melodramatically magnifying everything, or then there was a shrimp of truth swimming among those bombastic declarations. Earlier Buzz had explained something hasty about Yoka's strange fears... then, she had obviously vanished or equal. What had been the odd intermezzo that had cut short the phone call? His scion had squirmed a tad of time later back at the vidscreen, only to hold forth sheer lies. That nervous mendacious mask had not fooled Zurg. Then... the complete stillness.
"Zurgybuns, Pudding, why wouldn't you go to find out yourself what's up? I mean, if Buzz won't answer, maybe you could go and talk face-to-face with him?" the girl suggested.
"That is Jim-kraken-dandy, what a master plan! Grub! Put that on my to-do list!" the male clicked his fingers, "First thing tomorrow! Nine o'clock was scheduled gloating and ten o'clock non-evil scheming, but I shall leave eight thirty am, Planet Z time, to Morph! Schedule the least important, but yet superiorly important, tasks later!"
The next morning rose with a blaring red sky. Crimson clouds hung below the pallid sun. A few light rays were filtered through the thick leave masses of the gigantic oaks. Somewhere in the ring of Nex Crucio's destroyed turret, a hollow clack scared a few squirrels to climb upper in the safe trees. The grass tumbled lightly under the air current, as the Shadow in his invisible form blasted off towards the dawning Kaon.
His legs still ached tremendously. Yoka had done thorough work with the kicking and further resisting. Every time the male checked out her cell, he encountered a brutish attack. There was immense strength in that ferocious woman, such physical powers that startled even him. Although her body was lanky, almost skinny, the force was deep-rooted, evolved by the decennia's hard physical work. Three times she had ripped the firm ropes off with a single snatch, and jumped to beat the living rockets out of that sick evil capturer. She hated every inch of that vile demon, willing to return every pain and ache he had caused her.
But so did the Shadow return every pain and ache. Somehow, the daily visits were like a twisted game for him. Her every scream was his exhilaration, her every tear his elation. No limits had his ill, abnormal sadistic nature. Such thing as mercy was an unknown definition for him, had always been. So many of his prays had ended up begging mercy... but what good did that do, since the Shadow could not even comprehend the classification of forgiveness. Every deed of malevolence was a challenge, a play for him. Every creeping, dying alien being a theatre show. As if his heart had been replaced with a dollop of something so disgusting that no language was able to describe it with its vocabulary. A dollop whose mere purpose was to command its owner to destroy, destroy...
Now its sick lures enchanted him to target the thunderbolts against Buzz Lightyear. Almost a week had passed him not making a contact.
The enemy reached soon the hedgerow of Buzz' yard. However... something unexpected was going on in the front yard. Loud bangs and curses echoed from there, calling the man's name who was supposed to be his bait.
"OPEN UP! QUASARS!" someone wrangled.
The ghost bounced over the hedge, sweeping closer. He set himself under a lush bush that gave a panorama to the house's front. He remained staring semi-petrified at another male who was roaring anteriorly the front door. It was a sheer wonder that the gateway did not break down because of those fist hits. All over again, Zurg's big hairy hand hit the entrance's paneled surface. Small cracks appeared on it with every jolt.
"Who the heck is that...?" the invisible fiend puffed in his mind. That appearance looked so familiar, decorated with all the Lightyear family characteristics... He squinted his eyes.
It was the oil painting on Buzz' living-room wall. The person was the same. Although... in the clear daylight, clothed with that boisterous bellowing, the figure appeared far something else. Even the foe cringed somewhat as peering at that raving man. That stupid-looking egoistically grinning goof in the picture looked normally like that? He had to have well over a foot more height than the younger Lightyear -or the one in the bush, since Buzz and the Shadow seemed to equal precisely with every measure.
But it was not just the height. Although the assumed 'father' had to have a good amount of years on his shoulders, his form was like some mountain. The trained body had not a single extra gram of fat; Zora's hips were as narrow as his son's, his muscles like iron. That tank would have easily overcome the lurker in a hand-to-hand combat, at least as the Shadow had his own illness still left.
"SON! OPEN UP AND NOW!" Zurg cursed with his chest-tone that was about an octave deeper than his scion's. But it seemed futile. The house stood hushed.
"Open up! How dare you lie to your father and cut the call like that? Do not try to hide pathetically like a whimpering Chihuahua who has lost its juicy bone to a bulldog! You need my help, you shall not fall back in the dark side!"
The spy winced. Yes, that pitiful Buzz Lightyear had been face to face with that beetle-browed giant about a week ago. He could have not... found out what had happened?
"Craters. Did that idiot go and chirp to daddy after all?" the rival snarled, clenching his fists. "But it can't be possible. I know Lightyear. He wouldn't have done that. How can...?" Yet, his dark brainwork ceased abruptly. The person at the porch had stopped the thunderstorm. Zurg descended the scala down, his regard scanning the near grounds. As if his senses had tried to catch something... Out of the blue, the old man's piercing gaze was fixed right on the shrubbery where the Shadow crouched. That wrinkled expression, the stab-sharp look on those pupils appeared almost horribly penetrating. The lurker caught a minor panic. Had that weird man seen him? Somehow spotted him? But it was impossible! He was generally invisible! But how did that aged Hercules walk with firm steps towards him, not shifting the goggle even a millimeter away? Startled, the Shadow stiffened, cringing more under the branches of the thick brush.
That man halted right in front of the plant, and moved a few of its branches aside. Those dark-brown eyes were looking right through him.
However, as the Emperor observed nothing physical there, he let the twigs swing back to their natural state. A little grunt reached the peril, as the royal turned his wide back at the leaves. "And I am sure I felt something..." His attendance was soon history. As the son seemingly was not at home, Zora headed back to his speeder.
A few minutes passed, and the Shadow still squatted in the shades fossilized. What the heck was that old loon? It would be on his agenda to get rid of that buffoon eventually. He was a Lightyear, and these new-generation Lightyears were worth of nothing. But that one... it was nothing like the wimpy Buzz he so much despised. This one had other kind of stamina inside him, something far darker than the outer shell let assume. The lurker was aware that the eyes were the soul's mirror. Sometimes... as a younger man, he had spent epochs inspecting his looks from a looking-glass. One target of his sick self-admiration had been the glint of his deep-blue irises. So full of evilness, their gleam revealing the whole amount of his mercilessness. Ill and twisted as his mentality was, such a tiny outer-appearance thing had brought him smugness. The vileness shone through him... but how could he encounter such a phenomenon right here and now? In the regard of that weeping Buzz Lightyear's father? It was partly hidden, partly muffled, but still there. As if the actions of past had glowed through that goggle that had been literally sniffing his hideout.
Nevertheless... had not the Lightyear blood gone worthless? That irritating Buzz was such an innocent naïve angel; this was how the robed one saw his opponent. Although... it was true he had a few times before remained to stare at that huge oil painting...
"He looks like Jardaz, but he can't be like him. Would have received a few handclaps even from me, if he'd succeeded to accomplish things like that dead guy did in his time. Although that wimp would still be a featherweight compared to me, hehehe..."
In his weird world, the Shadow knew nowadays the Lightyear family history perhaps better than anyone else. During the dark years of solitude, alone, half-dying in the Fortress, he had had nothing but time... to read those books that the ancient shelves were full of. Volumes revealing stories obscured by eons...
Tales of utter darkness.
Clenching and again opening his fists, Zora stomped back to his speeder. Like planned, he had darted to meet his son -- only to encounter an empty house. The Captain was not at home, and then there had been this weird feeling of him being stared at.
"Hmm." The admirer of purple had buttoned his mouth. The deep ponders did not find his palate in order to form a monologue. The Emperor had a habit to talk to himself aloud, had always had. Usually it was just gloating or self-praising... but there were somber moments for graver things. Like the occasional torturing hours in the empty throne room on Planet Z, when the illusions of Adi suddenly had popped up from his pent-up awareness. The whiles of the forbidden memories...
The younger counterpart was nowhere to be found. He was not even at work. The local space ranger recruiting office told he was still on holiday. Hours later, the old man sat in a park bench, moping. Fat tame doves began padding towards him, begging for breadcrumbs. One of them flew to sit on the top of his head.
"CANNOT YOU SEE I AM THINKING OVER HERE, you feather-brained twits!" he got a manic huff. "Go away! I have always hated doves! They are too white! Too innocent-looking! I hate white! If you were purple, I might like you. But you are white! WHITE! From all the colors in this pathetic universe you have to be WHITE! Like Star Command! I hate those colors, green and white! They haunt me in my nightmares! Doves and that..." Abruptly, he perked. Star Command. How had he not come to think of it earlier? They should be able to help him there. At least now as even Buzz seemed to have disappeared. Yet, he did not trust these local Kaonian rangers, they were not even close to the elite that worked in the Base. Well, or course for the Grand Emperor Zurg, every space ranger or relevant was a lousy pitiable boob, but sometimes even their aid could come in handy.
As not being able to contact Commander Nebula via his wrist communicator, he shot off to Star Command with his spacecraft.
But... the welcome was not all that assured there. Even when Zoxedaszeĉ had at least a gazillion times explained his anxieties all over again to Zeb. The grumpy Commander had his hands full of paperwork, files about some conflicts reported from Tangea. That planet had lately transformed into a time-bomb. Some new laws oppressed the race of Grounders, whereas they appeared having larger-scale guerilla movement against the Royals. There was no help from Mira's side either to solve this news. Although being the heir of throne to Tangea, she almost neglected the whole planet's existence nowadays. As if willing to mutiny herself too.
"Look, son, maybe Buzz is just taking a little time for himself. I'm sure there's nothing wrong", Nebula answered the thousandth time. Forty percent of Zurg's jabber went usually past his ears.
"No he is not! Who would be better company than the mighty me anyways? HUH? HUH! My son was supposed to come and stay at MY glorious palace, then he just hangs up on me! Hangs up on me, his father! His own father!"
"Well let's say this sounds a bit weird but what if we'll wait a while still? Sweet mother of Venus, I'm quite certain the kid'll call ya sooner or later back."
But now the line was crossed. Zora grated his teeth and boosted his voice to a griffin's roar. "This is the last drop! Even you are only a pathetic teensy weensy pooch poodle who cowardly mewls with fear and shutters in its puny dog hole not having courage to face the evitable! You incompetent dipstick! Lack-wit! If I say that you shall send someone to see if my son is alright, then you shall do what I command, you worthless little lackey! I..."
Smack! His fist hit the Commander's desk with an unforeseen power. A crack appeared onto the surface, some ill-omened creak was heard, and the whole table smashed in two parts. The month's paperwork was spilled onto the floor. And as if the Desk had had feelings, it began beeping and whimpering heart-brokenly. Zeb was forced against the rear wall. Though, he remained shaking his head and rolling eyes. Father Lightyear was just plain crazy, so hard to be taken seriously. But it would become expensive for Star Command if Nebula would not stop that raving. It was true that Buzz' situation -whatever it was then- sounded rather peculiar. However, with his prejudices concerning that ludicrous Emperor, the Commander could not see reason in Zora's every bellow.
"The balance has shifted! My son is perhaps falling back in the darkness and you sniveling scrawny pigeons cannot even..."
"Blast! Alright, alright, now shut your trap, you're in my office!" the moustache man brawled back, "Remember, ex- bucket head, that you're not any emperor any longer. You're a dangerous criminal who's on parole. You just cannot command me to do things for you. I got this whole universe protection thing here to run almost twenty-four seven! But alright. If it's giving you any peace, I'll call Team Nova and ask them to check out if there's some trouble."
"Do not tell me that you are not at all concerned about my son and the looming rise of the dark forces?" the former royal was offended.
"Of course I am! Craters! That's why I run this space ranger thingy and promised to send Team Nova to take a peek on the case! Their patrol at Trade World will be over about in an hour, so then go, meet them and explain the case. See, NOW I'm even giving YOU the authority to send Captain Nova to a mission! Guess it's better that way huh? Now go! I need to get the Desk to the medbay for treatment, it's all collapsed!"
Muttering something about piping lap-dogs, Zurg stormed out of the room to go to wait for his new temporary minions.
Amazingly the former Team Lightyear took the ol' nutcase far much more seriously. Also they had been lately wondering what kept Buzz' wristcom silent. A variety of reactions followed. XR had his doubts when the pathos about the dark side's abysmal ascending began, and Booster caught a mere panic attack, beginning to chew his nails as if listening to a creepy ghost story. When Yoka's possible absence was mentioned, the ring fell musing.
"What if some giant hairy beast has risen from the forest and eaten them both?" Booster flapped, "I mean the forest looked pretty creepy to me! And the house's so near it!"
"Booster, what have I said about reading fairy tales before going to sleep?" XR scolded him, "They're too thrilling for a sensitive personality like you. I'd recommend you to read Harmony Bunny or such innocent books, which on the other hand are nothing but pink-sugary-fluffiness and not good for a growing-up man like you. I cry off. Read rather stories about giant hairy beasts. Maybe they'll help you overcome your fear for giant hairy beasts."
"Hmh. I doubt there'll be such things in this case..." Mira considered, "Well... uhm... of course there can be a giant hairy beast in the forest, but I'm certain it has nothing to do with this case... hmm... well, I'm not one-hundred percent certain, but almost..."
"Will you tell me what you find out? I ought to go", Zora muttered, "If I am with you, the odds of getting nose-to-nose with my son shall fall pathetically minuscule. He avoids me, due to a reason or another."
"We'll do our best, Mr. Lightyear." Nova saluted.
A few hours later a waned face appeared in the chink of Buzz' front door. The host was surprisingly at home, blankly leering at his former team. Why were they here?
...to be continued...