Disclaimer: ((checks self)) Still not mine. Darn.

"One Bright Day"

Chapter Two

-- Much, much earlier --

Canard sprawled in his chair, felt the skulls beneath him shift into a better position, and smiled because life was good. His eyes meandered around the walls of his inner sanctum, glazing over slightly as he remembered the history of various mementos. Finally, he stared straight above at the mural on the ceiling.

The painting was marred by age and spattered with assorted stains, but the original image was still visible. It had been a special … commission, and Canard thought it captured the very essence of the problem.

In a raging sea of amorphous electricity and clouds, a cruel Wildwing sneered in farewell, the stolen Mask already in place over his face. Behind him, still in the horned, dark ship, the other five laughed at the poor creature that flailed despairingly in the serpent's jaws. His own face, Canard felt, was really a masterpiece of the long-gone painter. Silver tears coursed down the torn feathered cheeks, the mouth twisted in a hollow soundless plea that would forever remain unheard. The eyes were wide, capturing the exact moment of the depressing epiphany that had flashed into reality.

Canard growled, felt the rumble in his chest and the vibrations in his throat, and knew that he was angry. It was all because of Wildwing. Wildwing made him mad. After all, he was the one who was pushed into that nasty, nasty place. He wanted Wildwing to feel the betrayal and pain that he'd felt on that day when a small part of him had died. He'd thought Wildwing was his friend, but now…

Now he saw the truth, a truth which hurt him. He'd thought he could trust the six of them. Knowing that he couldn't, that they actually wanted him to die, made his gut stab with pain.

Like this…

He grabbed a nearby knife and stabbed himself where he hurt. To his relief, the internal pain diminished as the skin violently protested the intrusion.

"The blood leaks out, it does," he murmured, lost in his own reality. "Wildwing needs to see the blood… his blood."

He slowly rose from his bloodied chair, heedless of the stains, and sauntered around his sanctum. "We need to make them pay, after all. All of them – Wildwing, Nosedive, Mallory, Duke, Tanya and Duke." He paused and blinked. "No… that's not right. Nosedive's already paid!" He chuckled and slapped himself violently, still smiling his crooked smile. "What an idiot I am! Silly Canard!"

He rounded the corner, pondering what to do. "How should I…? They need to see, after all! They need to bleed and cry, like I did when they abandoned me."

His eyes widened and he halted in his tracks, less than a foot away from the damp stone wall.

"That's it! I'll abandon them! I won't watch out for them anymore. No… then they'll have to get by on their own! And then… it won't be so easy."

A smirk spread across his beak, distorting a once-honest face. "In fact, I think they'll find it murderously hard."

Black ice magic crackled around the lone figure, standing laughing in the center of the bloody domed hallway.

Tsukiyo glared over his shoulder, trying hard to maintain his otherwise indifferent mask. "I can't believe you won't let me go outside," he hissed.

Drakewind spread his hands wide in silent apology, even as his voice hardened. "Look. Chrism and Saber have both seen weird things, ok? Saber saw an odd shadow, and Chrism was deeply disturbed in his meditation." Drakewind sighed, seeing his words had no effect on his irate teammate. "Something weird is happening, Tsuki. That's why I want everyone in the Pond to be gathered in one place. Ok?"

Tsukiyo only glared harder. "I want to go outside! It's been ages! I'm sick of being cooped up!"

"It's been twenty minutes."

"Exactly!"

"Come on, Tsuki! Be reasonable."

A snort of disgust. "Reason? Reason is a cowardly, excuse-filled word used by weaklings when they are too afraid to face the challenge of their opponents!"

"…"

As an uncomfortable silence slammed down, Tsukiyo restrained the urge to worry at his lower lip. "Um…"

Though Drakewind maintained a neutral face, his voice was slightly chilly. "I didn't know you appreciated our battle strategies that much. I'm so very sorry to have –" He snapped his lips regretfully shut as he heard a small mumble from the other's lips. "What?"

The voice came again, still too low to hear clearly. However, Tsukiyo's uncomfortable stance of fight-or-flight combined with the shifting, downcast eyes, and gave Drakewind a fairly good idea of what the poor boy was trying to say.

"…Did you just apologize?"

Tsukiyo coughed and glared upwards through erratic bangs. "Don't get too used to it, though. You got that?"

Drakewind sighed. "Got it. And sorry for snapping on you like that, too. I guess this atmosphere is getting to us both, huh?"

Tsukiyo shook his hair back as he gazed upwards, grinning dangerously. "Canard's going to be sorry about doing this to us. When we get our hands on him…"

Drakewind hastily interrupted the definite bloodthirstiness in the voice. "Tell you what, ok? How about we go open the freezer and get some ice cream? After that, we can – I dunno – go make fun of bad movies, or something. All right?"

Any lingering tension dispersed instantly as Tsukiyo's eyes lit up. "Ice cream?! Really?"

"Yup!"

"Even mint chocolate chip?"

"Weeellll…" Drakewind drew the word out, biting his lip to restrain the laughter inside at Tsukiyo's eager expression. "Ok."

"All right!" Tsukiyo threw his arm around Drakewind's shoulders in an informal hug. "You are the best duck ever!"

Drakewind grinned, clapping a hand around Tsukiyo's shoulders. He didn't even bother to hide the relief that was settling into his soul like a fluffy warm light. After all, Tsukiyo was an excitable source of action, a fact which worked against him more often than not. Throw some sugar– not to mention chocolate – into the hyper killing machine, and…

Well, it was a really good thing they had a gym. Still, the Mighty Ducks knew that it couldn't be expected for Tsukiyo to be entirely responsible of his influenced actions, so the ice cream was specifically kept off-limits.

Drakewind blinked and shot himself back into the present as an adorable whine leaked out of Tsukiyo's voice.

"Ice cream now?"

He could only laugh. "Yeah!"

The black-clad ninja paused in his position on the roof. The mask concealed the face, but it didn't make much difference. The person was entirely a pawn of Lord Canard's magic, and so even his eyes didn't react to what he was about to do.

He was the distraction and messenger. That was his assigned mission.

He firmly attached Lord Canard's confidential note to the gold hilt of the Saurian dagger. Carefully cutting through the skylight's glass, he took one last look around at the nature that surrounded him: The birds chirped over in the palm trees, the gentler wind brushed around the grass, and the distant laughter of children could be heard from a busy playground.

Then, the ninja lifted the cut glass and placed it on the roof, plunged the curved dagger into his heart, then let gravity pull his convulsing form backwards into the hole.

"Aaaa!"

Tanya's surprised shriek of horror brought everyone running towards the lab, weapons at the ready.

"Tanya!" Saber burst through the door, alert to any danger. "Tanya, what's wrong?"

Tanya stared blankly at one of her lab tables. Her normally gentle blue eyes were wide with horror, and she raised a shaking hand to point at the crumpled body on the table.

"He… he…"

With a slight shimmering, Drakewind and Tsukiyo came charging through the solid wall next.

"Tanya!"

"Tanya?"

Saber looked up from where he was cradling Tanya's traumatized form. He gestured significantly to the corpse, then reassured the two with a smile and a nod in Tanya's direction.

"Tanya! You ok?" The final two members tore in a split second later. Natalie led the charge, Chrism lumbering dangerously behind her.

"What happened?" Drakewind's commanding voice cut through the initial directionless adrenalin, giving voice to the question that was in the team's mind.

Tanya looked up, still shaking but much more calm. "I - I… I was working on this experiment over here when all of a sudden, the… the…" she averted her head and closed her eyes, unable to finish. One expected death on the battlefield – but not seeing falling corpses during everyday life.

Drakewind approached Tanya, crouching down and resting a supportive hand on her shoulder. "When the…?" he prompted gently. He hated to push her like this, but they needed to find out what had happened.

"Wh-wh-when th- the…"

"When the body crashed down onto that table over there through the skylight?"
The perky voice cut through the somber mood, and caused poor Tanya to stiffen as she relived the event.

"Y-yeah." She cast her eyes down and stared hard at the floor.

Four pairs of reproachful eyes swiveled about, settling themselves on the Tsukiyo's cheerful form. The redhead bounced around the corpse, prodding occasionally. His large amber eyes took in the ghastly details with the same amount of fascination that a kitten would play with a ball of string.

Chrism shook his head sorrowfully. "His aura is tainted with the lust for blood. It clouds his perceptions."

Natalie, however, was glaring accusatorily at Drakewind. "You gave him ice cream, didn't you?"

"Uh… yeah?"

"Why in the name of Ducaine would you give him ice cream now?!"

Drakewind backpedaled in the face of Natalie's understandable rage. "It was a bribe, so he wouldn't complain anymore!" He gathered himself, "And it worked, didn't it? You'll notice he's not complaining."

Saber shot him a glance that was part amusement and part exasperation. "No, he's not complaining. He's just a vibrating mass of destructive energy!"

Five sets of eyes turned back to where Tsukiyo was chuckling at a particularly floppy limb.

Tanya twitched. 'I think I'm going to be sick,' she thought. 'No!' She suppressed her gagging reflex. She was a member of the Mighty Ducks and a descendent of the incredibly talented Tanya. She could do this, she could –

"WHAT THE— ?!"

Drakewind was immediately over at Tsukiyo's side. "What? What is it?"

But Tsukiyo was too busy twitching violently, and he could only point a finger furiously at the crimson blade in the man's chest. He was almost inarticulate with rage, and was starting to swear blisteringly in the Saurians' ancient tongue.

Saber came over next, followed by Natalie and Chrism, curious to see what had gotten their teammate so worked up.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

Saber's answer came in the form of more curses, and a steadily darkening aura that began to swirl forebodingly around Tsukiyo's body.

Natalie blinked and looked at where the finger was pointing. She cocked her head in recollection at the familiar looking dagger, and then gasped. "Isn't that a Saurian martyr blade?"

Tsukiyo twitched.

Natalie continued, caught up in her area of expertise. "If memory serves me correctly, they were specifically used for ritualistic suicide in battle. I think I remember hearing that it was an honourable death – made doubly so by its status in the battle itself."

Chrism pondered this for a while. "The Saurians are most defensive about their honour during battles, quite probably because they disregard it in most other times during their life."

Saber's eyes widened. "If it's used for Saurians in a specific use with a practically religious significance, then what's it doing with a human?"

To their left, Tsukiyo had started to stomp his foot occasionally, still swearing profusely. Tanya finally joined the group and glanced over. "Maybe we should calm him down?" She glanced significantly over at Drakewind.

Drakewind nodded at Tanya's suggestion, then backpedaled slowly when he caught her meaning. "Me? Why me? Why should I--?"

Saber grinned. "Well, you are his keeper."

"Th-that's not entirely true!" Drakewind flustered.

"Besides, you gave him ice cream. It's only fair that you should be the one to deal with the consequences," Natalie pointed out, pragmatically.

Drakewind paused, then sighed. "Yeah, yeah. Fine. Hold on a sec, won't you?" So saying, he reluctantly approached the fiery Saurian descendant. "Hey, Tsuki. Calm down, ok?"

Tsukiyo bit out a retort that remained fortunately untranslated, though most likely had something to do with one's ancestry and what they could do with it.

"No, seriously. Calm down."

To give him credit, Tsukiyo really seemed to try for a moment. His eyes clenched shut, and he took a deep breath. The various utensils that had been hovering ominously wavered, then began to droop, and the magma-coloured aura began to shade to a calmer navy.

"That's it, good!" encouraged Drakewind. He stepped forward softly, still with his outspread hands. "Just let it go. You can do that!"

"No, I can't!" howled Tsukiyo, switching to Basic English for a few precious seconds. The aura shot through with red again, and the various tools once again soared. "I can't! I can't!" Taloned hands lunged upwards and grabbed at the red hair, clutching it as if they could tear the dishonour as easily.

"Holy crap," muttered Drakewind, as he warily eyed the situation. "He's really getting excited over this." He took one more step forward, raising his voice. "Tsukiyo! Calm down NOW! I mean it!"

In response, Tsukiyo sunk to his knees and snarled. It was a distinctly primeval snarl, which had everything to do with the Saurians' distant cousins. His eyes shot open next, and there was no mistaking the enlarged, slit pupil that was setting in the amber background. Drakewind gaped for precious moments, then gathered himself. He whipped around and yelled at the five teammates who were looking on in astonishment. "Grab that body and get out of here, now! If I'm not out in five minutes, then I want you guys to hit the detonation button for this section. Got it?"

"B-but, Drakewind!" Tanya stammered. "Are you sure?"

Saber laid a gentle hand on her shoulder again and began guiding her out the door. "You got it, captain. Good luck."

Natalie snapped to attention, biting her lip hard to keep anything from slipping out that she might regret later. "Yes, sir!" So saying, she turned and helped Chrism pick up the dead ninja.

Chrism, for his part, was also being very careful in his words and deeds. Like the others, he too remembered The Incident several years back. Hopefully – hopefully – they would not have to implement the safety procedure that had been established since then. "Good luck, my friend."

Once through the door, the four teammates paused for strength. Glancing at each other, they nodded once, then dashed through the hallways to Drake One's command center. Behind them, the door began to glow an ominous yellow from the heat within.

A/N: …Aaaand now I'm all unmotivated. Bleahs. ((shrugs)) I don't know if I really like how it turned out – for some reason my writing abilities have apparently disappeared, or something. ((gasps)) Maybe they were eaten by … um… plotholes, or something!

At any rate: What will happen? How does the Prologue tie into this? Will the others notice the note attached to the blade? What does it say? What will they do?

… Scooby dooby doo, where are you?

Ahem. Sorry. Ta for now, everyone!

Oh, and by the way – reviews are my lifeblood in place of caffeine. I'm too broke to buy caffeine at the moment, so please keep me alive somehow? Pwease?