The sunlight streaming through the window of the house cast their living room in oranges and reds. Summer Rose absently played with a lock of Raven Branwen's thick, fluffy hair. The two were pressed against each other on the couch. Raven was silently reading a paperback novel, and Summer had been drifting in and out of sleep for the last hour.
"Hey, Raven?"
Raven's eyes flicked over from her book. "Mhm?"
"Your bonds. For your portals. Do you feel them?"
Raven nodded, her finger playing with the page she was ready to turn. "Yeah. I do."
"What does mine feel like?"
Raven squeezed Summer tighter to her side. "It's warm. Like a summer's day."
Raven lurched forward with a start as she woke up. She leapt to her feet in an instant.
Her very soul had been, for an instant, as hot as the burning of a sun. She'd never felt that sort of pain before. Her Aura felt strangely drained.
She whirled around for the source, mostly on instinct. Finding nothing in her tent, she sat back down on her cot, folded her legs underneath her and closed her eyes. Meditation wasn't something she actively practiced, but it was a necessary skill for someone with a Semblance tied so closely to emotional bonds.
It wasn't Ozpin's magic flaring up, and none of her Semblance's bonds were—
—Wait.
She couldn't call the one that had appeared suddenly a "new" one. It was a bond she'd thought severed by death, but it had reforged. There was nothing twisted or strange about it, nothing to indicate subversion by the enemy like she'd feared might happen.
And it was burning, warm in an all-too-familiar way.
She opened her eyes slowly, got up, and began making a pot of tea — an exceptionally strong pot, at that. She dressed herself as the water boiled.
The future had been clear enough the night before. The Branwen Tribe could — no, it would have had to ride the razor's edge. Raven's layers of misdirection were designed for her own protection, and for her tribe's protection — if Salem ever caught up with them the way they'd evidently caught up whichever Maiden Salem now controlled, her decoy's death would lead the Grimm Queen on a wild Nevermore chase. Vernal hadn't known what she'd signed up for in being the decoy Spring Maiden. It was callous of Raven, but she'd long made peace with making sacrifices.
But the very presence of Summer Rose changed things, like the addition of a large stone to a pond with a silty bottom. What had once been clear was now murky.
Salem's focus might shift away from the Relics. Summer was a fully trained Huntress with the power of the Silver Eyes as her ally — and she could conquer the Fall Maiden that had been at Beacon, and perhaps the Grimm Queen herself.
On the other hand, Salem might hurry her search for the Spring Maiden to open the Vault underneath Haven Academy. Qrow had been able to divine the tribe's "acquisition" by examining the remains of an altercation they'd had with the residents of a village, although he had a far better understanding of the tribe's capabilities than most. But if he could, it was safer to assume that Salem could be hot on her trail as well.
Raven poured herself a cup of tea. It was dark and very hot and very strong and she drank it quickly.
And so she asked herself the question she'd been fearing to ask the whole time: what to do?
This much was clear now: her presence with the tribe was a liability; she was endangering her people. The abilities of the Spring Maiden were as much a boon as they were a curse — all the strength she possessed was coveted deeply.
The tribe would have to move, and quickly, too.
Vernal would have to lead the tribe to their summer grounds, further south of Mistral, while Raven moved alone. There would be a risk that Salem's group would track the tribe rather than the real Spring Maiden, but there would be risk either way.
As she began to contemplate where that left her, Raven felt a twinge in her gut — rather, her soul. Qrow was in pain.
She grimaced and shook her head. With long strides she crossed the tent to the table her equipment was resting on. She picked up Omen, her sword, still in its sheath, and rotated it to one of its standard steel blades. She plucked her mask off the table and put it on.
Raven drew the blade and cut down sharply in midair before resheathing her sword. A red and black tear in space opened and began to widen. The other side was colder than her tent and she suppressed an involuntary shiver as the air blew past her. Within seconds the portal had widened to the point that she could comfortably step through, so she walked through it casually, her hand resting on Omen's hilt.
The other side was an unremarkable forest, likely still on the continent. The evidence of a fresh camp was all around.
There was a faint groan from somewhere below her. She looked down. Qrow was leaning up against a tree, his body at her feet. Once-white bandages were swathed around his waist, dyed a deep purple.
Raven kneeled down, checked his breathing, and took his pulse — both were weaker than normal, but he was alive, even if he didn't seem to be conscious.
There was a gasp behind her, along with the sound of a small branch snapping.
She stood and whirled around in a single fluid motion—
Ruby Rose was standing there, fumbling for her weapon at her waist. Closer still was a blonde boy in armor, who had already drawn a sword and was charging in recklessly. Between the pair was what she assumed to be their cargo, a pair of long branches and rope that had been fashioned into an improvised stretcher, clattering to the ground.
Raven drew Omen, transitioning instantly into blocking the boy's incoming attack.
The two blades collided with a flurry of sparks. Raven sidestepped, letting the boy's momentum carry him past her.
The boy whirled around. Raven slipped her foot around his and swept, knocking him down. She planted her sword in the ground beside his head and he froze. "Don't move," she growled.
Raven looked over at Ruby. It was the first time she'd had a good look at the girl's face in years. It was very nearly like looking at Summer when the pair had met at Beacon. Raven shoved the emotions that threatened to billow upwards back down into her stomach.
Ruby was tense, rifle down but ready to bring up and fire in an instant.
"Ruby," Raven said.
"You're…Qrow's sister, aren't you?" Ruby asked. "Like in his and dad's photo."
Raven nodded. She gestured slightly down to the prone Huntsman. "He's injured. What happened?"
"A, a man attacked us," Ruby said quickly. "A scorpion Faunus. Qrow saved us, but the man stung him. When he woke up he was coughing. We gave him water and antivenom, but he passed out and hasn't woken back up."
Raven looked over at Qrow, the cause of the symptoms evident now. "I've seen this before. We can treat him at our camp." She offered a hand to Ruby. "Come with me."
"Ruby, no," the boy said. "It's a trap!"
Raven looked down before back at Ruby, putting the pieces together in her mind. "Your attacker was sent by Salem."
"Yeah," Ruby said.
Raven lifted her mask off her head and stared into Ruby's silver eyes. "For all that my brother forsakes our name, he is still a Branwen, and under our tribe's protection — as are you, Ruby." Ruby's face twisted in confusion. Raven wasn't sure if it was her resemblance to her biological daughter or what she'd said, but she continued, "You may not have a reason to trust me, but whether you killed your attacker or not, Salem's agents are on your tail. Come with me. It is the only way."
Ruby looked down at Qrow then back up at Raven. She breathed in; her lips parted to speak.
In the train compartment, Summer Rose had diligently unfolded and deconstructed most of a sandwich from the dining car. She was prying up a slice of tomato with a pair of chopsticks with the same diligence a surgeon would use. "I hate tomatoes on these sorts of sandwiches," Summer said. "They bring everything around them down. If they're not fresh, they're just gross."
"What does this have to do with your whole story?" Oscar asked.
"Oh, absolutely nothing," Summer said, looking up at him. "Where were we?"
"You'd met Cloud at the Games in Olympus," Oscar said.
"Right," Summer said, reconstructing her sandwich. "After that, let's see…"
"We went to Atlantica," Cloud said.
"The less that can be said about that the better," Summer said. "I felt so…funky. And not in a good way. And we kept getting lost when that stupid dolphin kept taking us in circles!"
"Port Royal?"
"Oh, we're definitely not talking about that," Summer snapped. Her gaze fixed on Oscar and he instinctively pressed himself against his seat. "Oscar. Never drink rum."
Oscar nodded vigorously.
"What happened after that was…ah, the whale," Summer said.
"The whale?" Oscar asked.
"I still can't believe you didn't see it," Cloud said offhandedly.
"It was very surprising," Summer retorted.
Summer opened her eyes.
The Blackjack's cockpit was upside down, and Summer was hanging in the pilot's chair by her restraints. Outside was a dark red blur that was far more dark than red.
"Hey," Cloud said. He was standing on the ceiling, a hand on his hip. "You're finally awake."
"You're upside down," Summer said goofily. She fumbled to get the restraints off.
"Here," Cloud said, raising his arms. He caught her as she tumbled out of the pilot's seat. She took a wobbly step as he set her down.
"Where the hell are we?" Summer asked. She leapt up, grabbed the ladder and climbed up into the lounge. Everything not pinned down had been thrown about — which, thankfully, wasn't anything that couldn't survive being thrown around a little. Most anything Summer was worried about spilling were in jars or other firmly sealed containers.
Summer climbed over to one of the side doors for loading and opened it with a few presses of its control pad. The door slid open with a blast of warm air.
They were in a cavernous mouth filled with piles of wooden scraps from, if Summer had to guess, various ships that had been swallowed.
"A giant whale ate us," Cloud said flatly, joining her.
"This is a new experience for me," Summer said, her tone somewhere between amazed and complete deadpan.
"First time for me," Cloud said.
"Why is there a giant whale in space?" Summer asked, climbing down onto what had probably once been the deck of a wooden ship of considerable size. She switched her flashlight on.
"I usually don't question these things," Cloud said, jumping down and landing beside her.
"Take a look at that," Summer said, pointing with her flashlight.
Another gummi ship had gotten swallowed as well as themselves; this one was painted in garish shades of red and yellow, with white fins. An unfamiliar but distinctly royal — or at the least noble — crest had been painted in gold on the side. The individual icons were too small to make out at this range, but the crest was shaped like a trio of overlapping circles — two smaller atop a large one.
There was a splash from below the ship. Summer's flashlight flipped down into the water at the bottom of the whale's mouth. Two people were climbing up out of the pool onto the platform. Summer recognized them: Sora and Goofy.
Sora lifted a gloved hand to shield his eyes from the flashlight and Summer angled it down in response. He gasped when he recognized the two. "Whoa! You guys are here too?"
"We really must stop meeting like this," Summer said, her free hand on her hip. "People will talk."
"Huh? Why would people talk about us?" Sora asked sincerely.
Summer looked at Cloud, who only shrugged in response. She turned back to the teen. "Sora, one day you'll learn," Summer said flatly. "So what's the 'getting out of here' situation looking like?"
A series of loud crashes, followed by an "aw, phooey," erupted from Sora's gummi ship.
"Donald's workin' on it," Goofy said reassuringly.
Summer, Cloud, and Sora shared a look of doubt.
"We might be here for a while," Summer said finally. "What's your status on provisions?"
Sora and Goofy looked at each other. Sora looked more than a little worried, and Goofy just shrugged at him.
"We've got enough to share," Summer said. "If you wanted to come over for dinner, I mean." She glanced back at her inverted gummi ship. "But we've got to flip our ship over first."
"Okay! We're gonna poke around," Sora said.
"Alright," Summer said, standing before the ship's entrance. "We need to get the entire thing end over end in a roll using the antigrav engines."
"First we need to turn the ship on," Cloud remarked. "Which isn't going to be easy, either."
"Right. The whole thing is upside down; all the controls are on the ceiling. How did you want to do that?"
The two of them climbed up into the ship itself. It was just as messy as it had been when they'd left. They dropped into the cockpit. Summer looked up at the pilot's seat. "Okay," she said, stepping over to Cloud. "I'm gonna get on your shoulders."
Cloud knelt down. "You sure you know what you're doing?"
Summer climbed aboard his shoulders. "Of course I do. I'm ready."
Cloud rose gently. Summer reached up and flipped a switch to fire the antigrav drive. The entire ship lurched, sending Cloud and Summer atop his shoulders stumbling into the cockpit's side. "That did something," Summer said, wincing. "The yoke!"
"On it," Cloud said, pushing off from the wall. He stumbled over, keeping balance as best he could as the ship rocked back and forth. "You don't have to pull my hair!"
"Sorry!"
Summer reached out for the control stick. Her fingertips brushed it and the entire ship rolled over and continued rolling slowly. Summer and Cloud lost their balance and tumbled to the floor, which had returned to its proper place, but only for a few seconds. Cloud's gauntleted hand shot out and grabbed a falling book from out of the air before it smacked into his face.
"I'm gonna be sick," Summer yelled, attempting to get up as she slid into the wall.
"Me too," Cloud said. He leapt for the stick. His left hand wrapped around it and he pulled to counter the rotation. "Turn it off now!"
Summer reached up and flipped off the switch. The entire ship settled back down, still tilted at a very slight angle. The steel structure of the ship groaned, but the whole thing held.
The pair let out a simultaneous sigh of relief.
Suddenly, Cloud's eyes widened and he scrambled down the ladder. A moment later, Summer heard him throwing up in the sink.
"You okay?" Summer called down the ladder.
"Yeah," Cloud yelled back. "Just motion sick."
Summer began shutting the ship back down — everything but emergency power. The cockpit's lights dimmed. Satisfied, she climbed down the ladder. Cloud was still hunched over the sink, spitting into it.
"Get a drink or something," Summer said, starting to grab anything that had fallen in the ruckus. "Then we'll clean up and make dinner."
"Sorry," Cloud said, "but why are you inviting them over here?"
Summer sighed forlornly. "I guess I just miss having dinner with my friends. Not that you're bad company or anything, I just miss the ruckus of a big group." She looked at Cloud, who still looked quite green. "Seriously, are you okay?"
"Peachy," he grumbled.
Half an hour later, the Blackjack's stereo was pumping out piano jazz. Cloud was sitting on the couch with a box of gingersnaps and a glass of synthetic milk; Summer was in her element in the galley, preparing some of the emergency meals. They were freeze-dried so cooking only required water, and there was an impressive selection. Given one of the guests was a walking and talking duck, Summer had been hesitant on the poultry options and had gone with cheese tortellini in sauce and beef-based chili mac.
"Excuse me? Miss Summer?" Sora's voice called out from the open cargo door.
"Come in," Summer yelled back.
Sora climbed aboard, before reaching back to help haul Donald Duck up; Goofy separately climbed aboard. Sora looked over at Summer. "Hi. That smells good. We ran into, uh, some others in the whale, are they fine to have dinner here?"
Cloud gave a shrug as Summer nodded. "Sure," Summer confirmed.
Sora flashed a grin and a thumbs up back into the whale's mouth. First, Sora helped a small boy aboard and then he and Goofy helped a man up onto the ship. The boy was small, with dark hair under a hat; the man was tall, with graying hair, a mustache, and a pair of rectangular glasses perched atop his nose.
"Thank you for the hospitality. My name is Geppetto," the man introduced himself. He gestured down to the boy. "This is my son, Pinocchio."
"Nice to meet you," Summer said. She held a hand to her chest. "I'm Summer Rose, he's Cloud Strife. We've got tortellini and chili mac going, which would you two prefer?"
"Tortellini for myself," Geppetto said. He looked down at his son. "Pinocchio?"
"Tortellini!" Pinocchio confirmed.
Summer outwardly smiled and nodded. She forced down the pain that lanced through her at the thought of her own daughters and semi-consciously occupied herself getting a glass of synthetic milk. By the time she turned back to see the father and his son seated at Setzer's poker table (which, despite Summer throwing a large tablecloth over it, was still evidently a poker table) the emotional flare-up had subsided enough and she could look on them without feeling pangs of jealousy or remorse.
Within a few minutes both dishes were complete. Summer dished out servings for the two newcomers first, before serving Sora and his companions, and finally she handed a bowl to Cloud, who finally took an open seat at the table beside Donald Duck. A minute later Summer slipped into the seat beside him.
"It's been a long time since I've had pasta," Geppetto said, tucking into his meal.
Summer flicked her gaze over to the bespectacled man. "How long have you been down here?"
"Oh, days," Geppetto said casually. Summer could practically see him internally counting. "Weeks, perhaps. We've lived off what fish we can catch when Monstro eats. Just a few days ago we had quite the haul of tuna!"
"Have you tried escaping?" Cloud asked.
"Oh, yes." Geppetto glanced at his son. "We tried to make him sneeze."
"We started a fire," Pinocchio supplied, his voice bright. "A great big fire, with lots of smoke!"
"It almost worked," Geppetto said, somewhat forlorn. "But we got sucked back in. Other than that, he only opens his mouth to feed."
Summer paused, a bite of pasta on her fork. "Indigestion," she said, her fork clattering into her dish.
"Don't remind me," Cloud grumbled, rubbing his stomach.
"No, no," Summer said, whapping his arm. "We could give the whale indigestion." She jerked her thumb back in the general direction of her belts and bag. "I've got my Dust! We can make a bomb out of it and plant it in the bowels."
"Why, that could work," Geppetto said, astonished.
After dinner, Summer started work immediately.
Summer set her bag on the cloth-covered poker table and began plucking out the rifle magazines that Halbmond took. "Standard, high-pressure, and armor piercing," Summer listed out, mostly to herself. She rapped her knuckles against the cloth-covered poker table.
"So, how much Dust do these bullets have?" Cloud asked.
"Not a lot per round," Summer said. "Fire Dust is fairly volatile. It only takes a few grains of powderized Dust." She poured the small container with all of her spare pistol rounds out over the table and made a pile; she added to it with the rounds on Thorn's gun belt. "We're going to need a case for the bomb and a detonator, too."
"On it."
Summer rummaged around various storage compartments until she found a pair of tinted welding goggles and a protective mask that would prevent her from inadvertently blowing or sneezing on the Synthetic Dust — it was nearly as volatile as the real thing. Summer had been around enough accidental Dust explosions that she always took safety precautions when handling it in powder form. She donned her protective gear carefully and sat down.
Summer carefully cracked open the last of the lined up rifle rounds and gently poured its contents onto the pile of Synthetic Dust laying in the center of the paper she'd set in front of her. Most of it gently glowed red, but there were small piles of yellow Lightning Dust sprinkled in, giving the whole pile an orange glow.
"And that makes twenty-three high-pressure rounds," she counted to herself. "That's as many as I can spare while still having a full magazine each of high pressure and armor piercing. Add that to all the rounds from Thorn, and we've got enough for an explosion."
"I've got the detonator and case," Cloud said, stepping over to her with something in his hand. "Had to pilfer from the spare parts for the wiring." He handed a jar to Summer. As she took it she examined the metal device that had been taped to the side. The wiring was crude, but serviceable.
"How long's the timer?" Summer asked.
"Ten minutes," Cloud replied, handing her the jar's lid as well.
Summer poured the Dust into the jar. It filled it two-thirds of the way and buried the exposed leads. She screwed the lid on tight and set it on the table. "We have a bomb."
"Yeah," Cloud confirmed. After a moment, he looked up at the closed cargo door. "Something's happening outside."
Summer focused. She could hear someone yelling — Geppetto, from the sound of it. She stood carefully, shedding her goggles and mask and depositing them beside the jar-bomb before rushing to the cargo door and opening it.
When she had, she could hear Geppetto better. His tone was pleading but the words themselves were indistinct. She leapt from the Blackjack, from wooden beam to platform to plank following the sound of his voice. She could hear Cloud behind her, taking his own path to the same destination.
Finally she emerged into the rear section of the mouth, landing on a thin platform of wood.
Geppetto himself was standing on the deck of a relatively intact ship, looking up into the darkness. "Please, give me back my son," he called out.
Summer's eyes strained in the darkness to see the other he was addressing until Cloud landed on the beam beside her, shining a flashlight right at the stranger. He was perhaps the same age as Sora, if not older, and he had shaggy, spiky silvery-blue hair that fell to his shoulders. One of his hands came up to shield his eyes from the bright light, and at that Summer noticed what his other hand was holding: Pinocchio.
Cloud hesitated, looking for someone else in the stranger as his hand found the grip of his sword.
"Sorry, geezer," the strange boy said, and if Summer hadn't noticed how young he was before, she could hear it in his voice now. "But I need this puppet."
Out of nowhere, something crashed through the platform and into the water beside Summer. She leapt onto the same beam as Cloud on pure instinct before she noticed that the "something" was actually Sora, his spiky hair dripping wet as he climbed aboard the platform. A moment later, Goofy plummeted down into the water.
"Pinocchio is no puppet," Geppetto argued. "He's my son!"
"He's certainly unusual," the strange boy said, holding Pinocchio up by the midsection. "If a puppet can grow a heart — well, maybe he can help someone who's lost theirs."
"Wait," Sora said, huffing and puffing from exhaustion from the drop. He looked up at the other boy. "Are you talking about Kairi?"
"Like you care," the other shot back, marching off further into the mouth.
Geppetto looked utterly lost, falling to his knees in despondence.
Summer waded through the water up to the deck of Geppetto's ship and climbed aboard. She rested a hand on the man's shoulder.
"It's going to be okay," Summer said quietly. "We're going to get your son."
Geppetto turned to look at her in wonder. Hope slowly broke over his face. "Miss Summer," he said shakily after a long moment. "Thank you."
"It's my job," Summer said, adjusting her gun belts. "And, to be frank, I know the feeling." She looked over at Cloud. "Change of plans. Are you good to set that bomb alone?"
Cloud folded his arms but he nodded. "You'll be back in time?"
"I have to be," Summer said plainly.
"Wait," Sora said, climbing aboard. "I'm going with you."
Summer turned. "You're sure?"
Sora's eyes widened, he'd clearly been expecting more of an argument. "Yeah. Riku's my friend, but…he's acting strange. And Pinocchio's my friend too!"
Summer nodded. "Then let's go." She took off running, leaping for the upper deck where the boy — Riku, apparently? — had absconded with Pinocchio. She turned to watch Sora make the leap; he barely made it, his chest slamming into the edge of the deck. Summer grabbed him and helped him up onto the deck.
"Let's go," Summer said, pointing to the dark tunnel-like passage that Riku had disappeared down.
She and Sora dived into the darkness.
Cloud rushed back over the beams and boards to the Blackjack. He passed Goofy, who was climbing aboard the Highwind for their own launch preparations. Cloud leapt onto the black-and-gold gummi ship and stormed into the lounge, his cloak billowing behind him. The bomb was laying on the counter where it'd been set down. He grabbed it in his left hand and leapt from the gummi ship before hurrying back up the length of the whale's mouth.
He stopped at Geppetto's ship, where the man was still peering into the darkness that Summer and Sora had disappeared into. Cloud nudged him gently. "You'd better get to our ship," he said, somewhat softly.
Geppetto wordlessly nodded and picked himself up. He scooped up a black-and-white cat and a fish bowl.
Cloud looked down into the lower tunnels, his hand on the hilt of the Buster Sword at his back.
He slid down slick surfaces into the digestive system of Monstro. Heartless emerged to meet him, and Cloud smashed through them with a one-handed sweep of his Buster Sword.
Summer and Sora climbed up the massive shaft.
"I never studied whale biology, much less space whale biology," Summer complained as she jumped up and climbed onto a fleshy, roughly mushroom-like platform, "but something doesn't feel right here. Why are we going up?"
"I don't know," Sora said.
"Who's your friend, anyway?" Summer asked, reaching a hand down and pulling Sora up onto the same platform as her.
"Riku?" Sora asked.
"Yeah."
"He's my best friend," Sora said, visibly forcing himself to brighten. "Me and Riku and Kairi, we're all from the islands! Riku's sometimes a little full of himself, but he's…"
"He's changed," Summer finished. "And you don't know why." She glared into the darkness above them. "You're ready?"
Sora flashed her a grin and a thumbs up.
"Then follow my lead," Summer said.
Her Semblance burned as she activated it, her legs screaming in agony as she sprung from the flesh platform into the darkness. There were some wet and squishy sounds that Summer immediately wished she wouldn't hear ever again, but she emerged into what she presumed was the stomach. Green acid glowed and pooled around the room, with more mushroom-shaped flesh protrusions encircling the room.
Riku was standing in the center of the room, on a raised section of floor that wasn't bathed in acid. His back was to the entrance, and he was kneeling in front of a dimly-lit shape that Summer guessed was Pinocchio.
Summer drew Thorn and loudly cocked it — mostly, she admitted, for the sake of dramatics.
Sora tumbled into the room after her. "Let Pinocchio go!" he said.
Riku whirled around. "This puppet — he could be the key to helping Kairi. How about it? Sora, join me and together we can save her!"
Sora took a low stance, holding his Keyblade in both hands.
Riku looked aghast. "You're really gonna fight me? Over him?" He nodded his head behind him at the slumped form of Pinocchio.
"Well, yeah," Summer declared coldly, squeezing Thorn's trigger.
Startled, Riku tumbled backwards and to his right, handspringing and landing on one of the other unsubmerged platforms. The stomach echoed with the sound of Summer's shot. It faded, and then a moment later, began to rumble.
Summer nervously chuckled to herself. "Here we go again," she muttered, cocking Thorn.
Cloud lunged forward with the Buster Sword, carving a path through swarming Heartless. He leapt up from there, catching a ledge and hauling himself up. He glared back down at the Heartless before running through a passageway.
Through the passage was another horde of Heartless.
"Don't have time for this," he said, extending his left hand. A ball of flame was lobbed from his fingertips and flew into the crowd of creatures. It landed on a ghost-like Heartless and exploded, sending fire into the crowd. The heat and light dispersed them and Cloud cut his way through the remainder.
He slid through another passageway that led downwards and ended in a large chamber without exits.
Cloud looked at the bomb in his hand. Gently, he pressed two small buttons on the side at the same time. The digital counter on the bomb began to tick down, second-by-second. Cloud set it on the spongy ground before hurrying back up the passage.
A massive shape dropped from above. Summer sensed it before it was visible, pushing Sora back as the Heartless dropped onto the platform. It was large and rotund, with a face on its stomach that looked like a maw and a pair of fleshy, tentacle-like appendages that ended in strange spiked grabbers.
There was another flare of energy Summer could sense from behind the Heartless, but it quickly subsided.
"Get Pinocchio," Summer commanded. "I'll handle it."
"But—"
"I'll handle it," Summer insisted.
The massive Heartless raised its appendages in preparation for an overhead blow. Sora went left; Summer leapt to the right onto a platform, firing Thorn repeatedly at the Heartless's head.
Her hand brushed the empty slots on her gun belt. "Oh, right," Summer said softly. She holstered Thorn and drew Halbmond. Her eyes tracked Sora as he made his way along the outside edge of the stomach, hurrying towards Pinocchio's slumped form.
She engaged her Semblance. She leapt from the platform, sword back as if it were a piercing rapier, off-hand outstretched to guide her strike. The tip of Halbmond's blade sliced through the Heartless's cheek, and she landed deftly behind the Heartless, whirling around in time for the Heartless to have planted its appendages in the ground and bodily slam her into the stomach wall. She fell and landed in the stomach acid. "Gross!" she yelled.
"Summer!" Sora yelled. "I've got Pinocchio!"
"Head back down," Summer yelled back, leaping back onto a platform and wiping acid from her forearm. It left pricking sensations all over her Aura.
Sora, and Pinocchio with him, disappeared into the fleshy folds of the floor.
Summer sized up the massive Heartless, which now stood directly between her and the exit.
She moved slightly to the right, and the Heartless waddled a tiny bit to block her. She moved slightly to the left, and the Heartless mirrored her movements. "Cute," Summer concluded.
She locked Halbmond back into rifle mode, using a high pressure round to further a leap around the periphery of the stomach—
The Heartless's appendage slammed into her in midair, grabbing her and sliding her along the acid pool. Her Aura stretched to its breaking point as the Heartless opened its massive stomach maw to swallow her whole.
Summer writhed in its grip, shooting the Heartless as fast as she could.
Cloud leapt up into the Blackjack. Pinocchio and Geppetto were there already.
"Strap in," Cloud commanded, climbing up the ladder to the cockpit. He engaged the main power and the lights flickered to life before sputtering out just as quickly; Cloud whapped the bulkhead with the side of his fist and the ship roared to life. He settled down into the copilot's seat and began firing up the ship's systems. "Antigrav ignition, sublight ignition, check."
The comms panel lit up; Cloud slipped one of the headsets on. "This is Blackjack," he said.
"It's Highwind," Donald Duck's voice said.
Cloud pressed the headset's earpiece up closer to his ear. "I read you. What's the situation?"
"Sora isn't back yet," Donald groused.
"Summer!"
The Keyblade whirled through the air and cut through the Heartless's appendage. It disappeared before Summer had hit the ground and Sora was lining up like a pitcher to throw it again. This time, it smashed into the Heartless's face.
The Heartless stumbled backwards before falling into the stomach acid. It writhed around as it began to evaporate, the image of a crystal heart emerging from its body before disappearing in the air.
"Gross," Summer said, looking at the acid. "Let's get out of here."
They descended down into the mouth again. They clambered over planks and platforms before ending up at the gummi ships.
"See ya, kid," Summer said, shooting him a quick salute before heading to the Blackjack.
"Bye," Sora called back before ascending the ladder into his own ship.
Summer leapt up to the cargo door, steadying herself on the frame before closing it. Geppetto and Pinocchio were seated on one of the couches, seat belts around their hips. Summer nodded to the pair of them before ascending the ladder into the cockpit.
"How much time do we have?" Summer asked, sliding into the pilot's seat.
"Not much," Cloud said. The entire whale began to shake and convulse, and the mouth began to open. Opposite them, the Highwind fired its engines, soaring out of the whale. As it cleared the teeth, Cloud fired Blackjack's own thrusters, and they sped clear of the whale's mouth as a wave of stomach acid splashed past them and out into space.
"I'll key up the warp drive to get us back to Traverse Town," Summer declared, leaning forward and firing up the navicomputer.
Cloud sniffed. "You stink," he declared.
"I got thrown into some stomach acid, give me a break," Summer said defensively.
Qrow Branwen awoke to the scent of earth and the herbal remedies of his youth. He also woke unable to see no matter how many times he blinked his eyes, which immediately threw him into something of a panic.
He could tell he was on a cot of some sort, by the cold metal frame covered in canvas; and from the airflow and scent he wasn't in a building but rather a tent of some sort. He began to reach around to try and get his bearings.
"Ah, you're awake," a somewhat familiar voice said, approaching. Qrow noted its properties: male, maybe thirties to forties, gravelly, warm. "Just relax. Your eyesight will return in time. Side effect of the sting. Unfortunate, ain't it?"
"This isn't a hospital," Qrow said. "Where am I?"
There was tense silence for a moment.
The tent flap opened. Qrow's head swiveled around on instinct to face it, even if he couldn't see it. "Who's there?"
"Someone who hates you," the all-too-familiar voice of Raven Branwen said. "Doc, how's the patient?"
Qrow immediately placed the voice — Duncan "Doc" Salvador, another member of the Branwen Tribe. He'd still been an apprentice when Qrow had left the tribe. "He's conscious, but he's still suffering side effects — blindness, for one. I was just going to ask him about the rest of 'em. How ya feelin', Qrow?"
"Terrible," Qrow said, slumping down onto the cot. "I'm aching all over and I've got a killer headache."
"That's great," Doc said brightly. "Well, Boss, best I can figure, he'll make a full recovery!"
Raven grunted in approval. "Excellent. New orders, Doc. The Tribe's moving to the summer grounds. I need you to pack up around your patient."
Qrow tensed. The Tribe usually waited until the snow was slightly more thawed than it was to move — if he remembered correctly, it was still about a month before the earliest move they'd ever done while he'd been with the tribe.
"The summer grounds…? This early?" Doc asked, surprise coloring his voice.
"This early. I'd like to get you all going as soon as tomorrow, if your patient can recover his eyesight in time."
"I take it he's not coming with us, and neither're those kids?"
Qrow didn't let it show, but he was flooded with relief that the kids seemed to be alive.
Raven stepped towards Qrow. "They aren't."
Duncan drew in a breath. "You ain't, either."
Raven barked out a chuckle. "No, Vernal will be Chief until I return. Get started on your packing." She opened the tent flap, letting colder air into the tent. Qrow's ears perked up as she breathed in, perhaps to say something else, but Raven turned and left without another word.
Duncan laughed. It was a hearty, strangely comforting sound to Qrow. "So, buddy, how've you been? It's been, what, two, fifteen years?"
