(The lyrics are from a song by 10,00 Maniac's song Grey Victory, which I do
not own; neither do I own the OG Aladdin characters, unfortunately. I know
its short, sorry, I am typing a lot more, but this part doesn't fit, so here
ya go.)

Aladdin never figured out what had yanked back into reality, back from the
whispering horrors of Mozenrath's memories,
Was it the magic he had fluked in use had run out of juice?
Or was the recoiling feeling of shock?
In any case, he found himself staring at the ceiling, feeling odd as he
counted the dark swirls on the stone as his vision returned, receding gray
from the edges..
He was brought back to the matters at hand, however, as he heard, or rather
felt, a strangled sound being torn from the figure who had managed to get as
far as collapsing against the wall closest.
Mozenrath's eyes were closed, and the silence was deafening, the sorcerer's
throat working to keep something inside, though he looked dead as his head
had fallen back against the stone.
Aladdin rubbed his head furiously either to quell the pain of an oncoming
headache, or quell the storm that rocked the room; it couldn't be
deciphered.

"There was light
and atomic fission
swelling wind and
rising ash
tide of black rain
cement seared shadow traces
reminiscent of their
last commands"

So they sat there.
Questions, doubts, the reflex to flee, the insistence to ask, they all
barked at Aladdin to do something.
So many urges to shift through.
But what do you do?
What do you do when you witness your preordained notions of comforting
reality, a simple yet organized world of villains and hero's, right and
wrong, this and that, crumble to the ground?
"Get out", came a clipped command, disturbingly controlled.
"Mozenrath, I, well, I didn't mean to, I sorry ok?" Aladdin said, trying to
convey the torrent of needs inside him, the need to repair and correct,
stumbling over his words as he winced at their inadequacy.
"GET OUT!!" Mozenrath yelled suddenly, the sound refusing to be anything but
roaring and sharp as he turned to Aladdin, eyes snapping open.

"Instantly one thousand
flames arising
ill scent of
burning hides surrounding
a settlement
debased entirely"

Aladdin knew he would always remember what he saw in his nemesis' eyes.
Brewing in such an ungodly way, Mozenrath's eyes flashed, trying to disguise
the excessive amount of emotion contained within. For the first time,
Mozenrath looked vulnerable, a broken man, helpless but to watch his
intricate falsehoods and trapping collapse around him. The reverberations of
repressed despair, shame, humiliation, regret, guarded fear and inner death
from Mozenrath's eyes went like a punch to Aladdin's gut.
It was striking and horrible at the same time.
As Aladdin made his way through the Citadel, reflecting and muddled, and all
over regretting coming, and yet relieved he did, he could say without pride
that he thought he now understood Mozenrath, if only a feeling of grasping
at something beyond him.
He no longer saw Mozenrath at the ridiculously, he mused now, cookie cutter
villain and inhuman routine of bad versus good, not now did he view the
sorcerer as untouchable.
He saw him as he saw him inside,
Ripe with the cards Allah dealt him, stooping to piece together something
for himself.

"Enola Gay had made a casual delivery …
please build a future darling
with our bomb
cherish and love it
for the sake of
earth bound kingdom come"
Mozenrath's knuckles blemished white as he griped the floor around him,
tired as the silent, disobedient tears drying on his face, making every cold
breeze of wind through the Citadel feel like a gossamer touch, reminding him
this isn't supposed to happen.
He wasn't supposed to remember.
""the undersides of
fallen metal trusses "

He had trained so hard, berated his remorse until the secrets he hid were
finally that, hidden even within him, a decoration for nightmares and
nothing more.
Damn that street rat, Mozenrath cursed as a choked sob tore itself from his
throat, mocking him as the sound came to his ears.
He saw it all; Mozenrath repeated like a mantra in his head, He saw it all.

"evil debris of
human bodies
each window's glass
shards pelted
secure confines
brittle collapse
neighbors lay beside
each other unknowing"
What respect was there for the wasted? What stability was there for him now?
It all comes down. Mockery, rumors, and those Allah damned looks of pity!
"faces scorched
of all familiar bearing
too few hands"

He didn't need that.
Especially not from him.
Allah, why didn't I just kill him and be done with it?
A nagging little voice, one that taunted Mozenrath now that he was down,
sprang to life, whispering things he already knew into his ear.
The shadows on the wall danced as the sun fell, a backdrop for the fallen
man on the floor as he pulled his legs up to his chest, letting old wounds
bleed once more.

"wounds for closing
marred by thirsting
anguish
fear
lamenting
here we stand
at the door to
Gold Atomic Age
don't spoil your faces with worry
trust in earth bound kingdom come"

Dean