Season 2 Epilogue and Season 3 Prologue: Paths and Pains

The number was left to, at the time, several teenagers and a few adults. They were all connected by tragedy and pain, and followed the teachings of him. That mysterious being who defied rationality. He had shown them, all five of that batch, that reality was far more confusing and dangerous than they could have possibly imagined. They had learned, together, that magic was real. That it was a weapon to the enemy.

That was, of course, almost a decade ago.

Since then, the small group of five had moved one, going to their own lives. Perhaps they had, all of them, continued to remember, and fine-tune their own skills, but there were other life moments they needed.

But no matter where they were, what they were doing with their lives, or what kind of phone they had, they always made sure they had one number.

The emergency number.

It was to be used only when something terrible was happening, something world-threatening. Not that the five ever really expected to have it used; the Guardsman had, ever, been a vigilant force against the powers that threatened to alter the world. He would surely stand against it.

After a decade, someone pulled out their phone, and called that number.

It was not, however, the Guardsman who did this. Such were the days that video-calls were now available.

Calling first on this number was a man, in his early thirties. He had dark, rich skin, and short, thick, black hair. He was a man with a skinnier look, and cool, thoughtful eyes. As the picture on his phone stabilized, he was not alone.

There was a boy, a teenager with him. He was pale, with short, black, styled hair. His anticipation was palpable as he looked to the other.

The boy, maybe sixteen or seventeen, asked, "Are they there?"

The man shook his head. "Not yet. I'm sure they'll answer shortly."

"What will happen if they don't?"

The man turned back to the teen. "I hope they do."

There was an answer. Another screen activated. A woman with very long, straight raven hair stared back. She had a look of zero-nonsense. Her skin was lighter, with warmer tan notes. The screen did not do her height justirce, as the dark-skinned man knew her to be very tall.

The older man said quietly, his eyes taking in the sight. "Rin."

The woman replied formally, "Nadan."

"How are you?" he asked, some of his cooler tones warming up to her.

She, on the other hand, remained formal and polite. There wasn't and coldness in her voice, but she seemed the sort to have lost any concept of causality. "I am well," she answered, and then asked, "Why have you initiated this call?" she asked, her eyes narrowing, "I believe we stated, when last we gathered, this number was to be used for the Guardsman."

Nadan cleared his throat. "It was, somewhat, implied to be that way, yes," he agreed, but then added, "But only because none of us believed there would be a time we, ourselves, would start this call. Or, since, the Guardsman was… you know."

The boy behind the skinny Nadan called out, "So, it's really bad?"

The woman leaned her head to the side. "Is that your apprentice, Nadan?" Rin asked.

He nodded with a smile. "This is Drew. Come," Nadan turned and waved the boy over.

Looking shy, the younger teen approached, his eyes shimmering as he looked to the screen. "Woah," he said, eying the woman before him, "Heya! I'm, uh, Drew. Drew Alto. I'm, uh, his apprentice, yeah. And I write songs!" he added eagerly.

The woman nodded. "I am Rin Goda. A pleasure," she said, sounding about as happy as someone was to see a blank, lined piece of paper.

As Drew chuckled forcefully, Nadan told him, "Don't worry, she's like that for everyone. Rin," he said, "Have you had any weird feelings recently? Of the sort related to the Paths?"

Her brow furrowed. There was a very clear thought, and perhaps worry, buried in her gaze. Without flinching or stuttering, she answered, "Yes."

Nadan nodded, and added, "Then I am happy I called. I just hope the others answer."

No sooner had he said this than another screen popped up. This time, a very pale woman with short, red hair appeared. Unlike the other two, she seemed to be outdoors, and was somewhat sweaty.

The higher-pitched tone of the woman called out, "Guys! Oh my god, how are you?! Is everything okay?"

Nadan beamed. "Maureen. Jogging?"

"You betcha," she nodded, wiping her brow. "Hi Rin!" she smiled at the camera with one hand. Rin offered her back a stiff turn of the corner of her mouth, which appeased the redheaded woman. She leaned into the camera, "Okay, real talk – what is going on? We're supposed to call if the world is collapsing, right?"

Drew turned to Nadan. "You weren't kidding. This is the doomchat."

The woman named Maureen leaned even closer. "Aw, who's that? Oh! Wait, Nadan, is that your apprentice?" she then waved, "Hi newbie! Welcome to the paths! Rin and I are your official aunts!"

"A-aunts?" Drew Alta stammered.

Nadan patted the boys shoulder. "Ignore her. She'll be happy to know someone is around her that shares her relative age of mind," Nadan smirked at the image of Maureen.

The woman pouted. "Har har. Also, you call this doomchat? What about defcon four, like we agreed on?"

Nadan cocked an eyebrow at her. "We certainly did not agree to that."

"What? Yes we did!" Maureen snapped, and looked the screen, with indignation. "Rin! What do you call this?"

Without much emphasis, the tall, dark-haired woman said, "Emergency."

Nadan and Maureen both said, "Sounds right."

"Where is Arline? Darren?" Maureen asked.

Rin answered, "I last heard Arline was also a teacher."

"Oh," Maureen giggled, "Next generation!"

Nadan also answered. "I thought Darren was working to become a professor. And, I suppose, we are not to expect our master anymore, we should anticipate Arline or Darren will answer shortly."

Maureen rolled her eyes. "He's late to everything. We might as well begin chatting, and figure out what those crazy vibes were earlier," she said. Drew gasped, looking to Nadan. The pixie-cut redhead smirked, "So, it wasn't just me. Thank goodness, I thought I was going a little crazy."

Nadan shook his head. "No. It wasn't just you. We felt it."

"As did I," Rin nodded.

Another video answered the call. A shaky camera revealed a pale man with a shaved, or bald, head, sitting in a tight office. The three gasped. It was out of focus. A hand was trying to set the camera in place, though poorly.

Nadan gasped. "He wasn't the last one to answer."

"Darren!" Maureen cried out, "C'mon you old fart, just put the camera down!"

The man flinched, holding a hand out to defend his ears. "So much for coffee. That woke me up," she said, and rubbed his ear. He looked to the screen carefully. "So, we got everyone but girl wonder. Where is Arline? She's usually our go to."

Nadan let out a sigh. "I do not know. I had truthfully anticipated that she would call us. Perhaps she is in the middle of something."

Darren scoffed. "I was in the middle of something! I'm helping for a lecture!" he cried out, "And rushed out with an emergency. That's what this is, right? Some sort of emergency?"

The redheaded bobbed her head up and down in a furious nod. "I think so. I don't know what, but I felt something bad."

Darren nodded his head once, deeply. "Way bad," he added. He noticed a small teen. "You got yourself an intern there, Nadan?" Darren asked.

Drew looked a little confused, looking around as if a sign was misplaced. "Intern?" he asked Nadan.

Maureen asked quickly, "Hey, Rushtar!"

The bald man replied, "Hey, Menace!"

"What do you call this chat?" she asked, "Defcon four?"

He scoffed. "This is red alert. I used to like battle stations, instead."

Maureen groaned. "God, you guys are so bad at sticking to a theme."

Nadan opened his mouth to answer. Then, to the shock of four experienced members of the paths, another video opened. There was, to their disbelief, no video, but they knew exactly who that meant it was. Arline Hirsh never turned away a chance to speak face-to-face. That meant it could only be…

"Master?" Maureen asked, holding a hand to her face.

A voice came through the speaker to all present. "You acted quicker than I had anticipated. I'm proud. Reaching out to you in your dreams does not need to happen now."

The bald one and pixie cut girl stammered. Nadan and Rin furrowed their brows. Though he looked stunned, Darren was quick to call out.

"Hello? Hi! Earth to master, nice to see you. Didn't you die!?"

Maureen called out, "I second that reaction."

Rin calmly stated, "Clearly it was a rouse."

The voice answered, "Astute, as always, Rin."

Nadan chuckled. "I did think it was weird how easily you seemed to be defeated. You've defeated armed soldiers before. I found it strange, to say the least."

Darren cried out, "I bought get-better cards after that!" He pointe to the screen, "I would have mailed them to you!"

Maureen frowned. "Wait, now I'm confused."

Darren remarked sarcastically, "What's new."

"Shut up!" Maureen snapped, and Drew Alto repressed a chuckle. She exclaimed, "Did you die? Did you get injured and faked your death? Were you even hurt!?"

The video less image took a beat. In that time, Nadan noticed something. There was someone else who had not shown up. He leaned in a tad closer. His voice level, he asked, "Master. Do you know where Arline is?"

The voice finally replied. "In… a manner, yes."

"Well," Darren grumped, "Get her online. We need everyone present."

The Guardsman replied, "Everyone available is present."

That shut up the group. Though he hadn't said implicitly, his wording, as always, was precise. Arline would not be joining them. That meant only one thing. Rin closed her eyes and bowed her head. Nadan shook his head and bit his lip. Darren put his face in his hands. Maureen frowned. "No," she said, "Nuh uh."

The voice of their master explained, "Afraid so. I'm sorry to have to be the one telling you this, but she is gone."

A little hesitant to speak, Drew quietly asked his own master, Nadan, "Who was Arline?"

Answering proudly, Nadan told him, "She was our unofficial ringleader. Last one to really walk away from this, when… he," he indicated to the screen, probably to the blank image that would be the Guardsman, "Was presumed dead."

Drew hissed, and shook his head. "I'm sorry, guys."

The Guardsman said to them all, "She would have made you all proud. In her mission, she was assigned to protect people, and did so marvelously. Only got into one fight above her paygrade."

Darren laughed, lifting his face away from his hand, wiping at his eyes. "Wow – character growth!"

Maureen asked, somber and quiet, "Is that what we felt? That awful… feeling earlier? Her dying?"

That same blank image answered in the Guardsman's voice, "I wish that was it. Arline's end came with another bleak tiding."

"Oh, joy," Darren groaned.

Grimly, Rin asked, her already dour, stoic tone deeper, "What else has happened?"

The Guardsman said, "The Sorcerer has won."

All four adults pulled themselves closer to the screen. Darren immediately roared, "What!?" while Maureen's mouth dropped open. Nadan looked around, his mind reeling. Rin, collected, nodded.

"That is bad," the tall, stoic woman noted.

The Guardsman nodded. "Yes, it is. He created a spell to reach into the fabric beyond existence. It had unforeseen consequences, to which he was unprepared for." When the four, plus drew, stared at the blank icon, the voice stated, "The Sorcerer is also gone. Along with much more."

"Dang!" Darren gasped.

Maureen squinted. "But he won? How did he win if he's dead?"

"I have not said anyone died," The Guardsman corrected her, "But they are beyond our reach now. What matters is that the stone was destroyed. The magic it contained-"

Nadan quickly finished, "Will flood the world. Oh no."

The Guardsman said, "Yes. What you felt was the first wave. The beginnings of the flood. Now-"

The Guardsman stalled. There was a distant voice. Someone on his line, by the sounds of it, the voice of a young man or teen, called out to him with a heated voice. Nadan and Rin squinted, uncertain who that was. Darren looked around perhaps wondering if that voice wasn't from the building he was in.

Maureen blinked. "Hey, master? Did you pick up new pupils without telling us?"

The Guardsman mumbled, "One moment," and his voice was heard talking back to the other voice. Two more voices, feminine, called back. One very cheerfully called out with an, 'Okay' while the other said something indistinguishable. The voice of the Guardsman responded, "Sorry, still on mission."

Darren asked, slowly, "With… kids?"

Drew frowned. "What's wrong with that?"

Darren gave a dramatic, spastic shake. "Oh god, that one can think for itself!"

As he and Maureen laughed, Drew went red in the cheeks. Nadan eyed the screen. "Play nice, Rushtar," he warned him.

The Guardsman answered the earlier question, "Yes, I am with kids. I would not say… they're my pupils exactly."

"Wow," Maureen nodded, "He's opening up to people. Traveling with people who aren't strictly path walkers."

"Friends," The Guardsman called, his urgent tones quieting all five, "I know you felt that power from earlier. You know what might happen if I don't succeed at stopping it. I… I don't want to pull you from your lives. You deserve to live them however you want, do you understand? You've earned your separation from me, if that is what you want."

"Listen," The Guardsman asked, "I can't tell you to do anything anymore. You are no longer my students. You have moved one from that. All I can ask is that you help. If not for me, for yourselves, for those you care about, for the future."

The five said nothing. Each looked a flavor or stunned, confused, or focused. Drew, in particular, looked a little lost. "Okay," he said, "So, what, we're going to save the world?" he asked the call at large.

The Guardsman paused. He said, after that moment, "Well, mister Alto," he said, which certainly caught the teen and Nadan off-guard, "You are welcome to join us in this life-threatening and world-saving adventure. But you go with us knowing the danger."

Darren quietly muttered, "And with a permission slip from your parents."

Rin held back a laugh, biting her lip, as Maureen chuckled. Drew scowled. "I'm great at this path stuff! If the world is going to, like, explode or whatever, I should help!"

Nadan, a smile on his face, patted the shoulder of the teen. Still, he told his student, "Think about it. We have a little bit of time for you to decide. This isn't something you should just want to do. You could get hurt."

"Or die," Darren reminded him.

The Guardsman added, "Or worse."

Drew Alto, filled with all the invincible feelings that youth provided, shook his head. He declared, "I'm not the strongest, but I'm fast. Besides, Master will keep me safe," he said, nudging Nadan's side with his fist.

The man next to him rolled his eyes. "As long as I can," Nadan affirmed Drew.

Rin, clearing her throat, asked to the group, "Then what is our mission, master?"

The Guardsman said to them briskly, "Mobilize. There is much that needs doing. I want–" There was, again, calls to someone distant from the Guardsman came through the video call. To the other listeners, they were shocked when they heard him, in a very informal, cheery voice said, "Only an hour or so before we're there! Guys, let me have this call. It's important."

Maureen scoffed. "Is… someone bossing our master around?"

"I'd pay good money to see that," Darren chuckled.

The Guardsman's voice returned to its usual tone, "I want you all to meet at the treehouse. From there I'll have new assignments. We need to act quick, so pull out those cards I gave you all last time. Use them to get here as fast as you can."

Darren snorted. He reached down for a wallet, and pulled out a simple looking payment card. "Like I don't use this constantly."

Drew asked around, "Treehouse? You guys have a secret club hideout in… a treehouse?"

Maureen cheerfully added, "In Wyoming!"

As Drew looked entirely lost and flustered, Nadan nodded. "Very well," he told them, "I, for one, will help."

Rin nodded. Rushtar grumbled, but gave a thumbs up to the camera. Maureen nodded her head eagerly and said, "I'm doing this for Arline."

"Thank you all," the Guardsman said, a hint of concern fading from his voice. Suddenly his camera turned on. All present looked carefully, seeing a road-side pit stop. The tall, black-cloaked figure with a silver mask was holding the camera just over his shoulder. There were four figures behind him, staring at the Guardsman like he was taking just too dang long with the call. The guardsman hissed, and shouted, "Whoops! Sorry, wrong button," he clamored, and started stabbing at the screen with his index finger.

The rest of the members of the paths watched as their great and powerful grandmaster poked and prodded the screen, trying to turn off the video. With each loud, dull tap on the screen, it would not go away. The tapping intensified. The Guardsman mumbled, "C'mon, dang it." Then the Guardsman whined, and then turned to those behind him. "I – how do I turn it off?"

A larger man with gentle chin scruff walked up to him. He said to the Guardsman, "Oh, that's easy dawg, just hit that button there."

"I was hitting that button," The Guardsman insisted.

"Nah, like this, boop-" And as the man hit the button, the feed was gone, "Boom! Done."

"Ah, must have been the gloves. Thank you, Soos," the Guardsman said, and the others heard a clap of some sort. The path walkers stared, dumbstruck, with what they had witnessed. The voice of the Guardsman cleared its throat. "So. Treehouse. Prepare yourself."

Darren burst out laughing. Holding a hand over his chest, he wheezed out, "Sure, whatever you say, grandpa!"

The Guardsman's voice gasped. "Hey!"

"Oh!" Maureen called out, "Master! What do you name this number! We decided last time that it was going to be Defcon four!"

From a pregnant pause, came his answer. The Guardsman said shyly, "It's, uh, under 'Uh-oh time'."

Nadan, Drew, and Darren collapsed into laughter. Rin smiled, giving a small, well-natured chuckle. Maureen pouted. "Really? No one!?"

With an audible grumble, the Guardsman disconnected from the call.

From the ashes of what was once a dark and serious exchange of information and planning, the three men steadied their laughter and breathing. Rin spoke to them all, "I must prepare. I will see you all soon. Goodbye."

She disconnected from the call.

"Welp," Darren said, wiping tears from his eyes, "I'm out. Got to fly across the states, so it'll be a little bit before I'm there. Keep the couches warm for me!" he said, and also disconnected.

Maureen scowled. "We had such a cool plan. Dorks." She too left.

Nadan looked to Drew. "Well, kid, hope you're ready to save the world."

As Nadan reached for the screen to deactivate, Drew frowned. "Do I really need a permission slip?" and the call ended entirely.

End of season 2 Epilogue: Paths.

Go get a water. A drink. Stand up, or stretch. Blink. I dunno, take a moment to profess your undying devotion to the powers of the yellow triangle.

Did you do any of that? If you did, go on to the Season 3 Prologue: Pains.

Many things are given unfortunate names; some more so than others. Children with names considered 'old-fashioned' are teased. Companies with silly abbreviations are ridiculed. Towns, like Boring in Oregon, are left be.

The town of Boring, Oregon was a small town with a small people who enjoyed their silly named realm. Just as their namesake, to an outsider, the town held to its name well. Tourism was lax but more than welcome, and many shops adorned with the T-shirts and silly mugs always joked and smiled when inquired about the name of Boring. It even had a boring start- a man named boring made the town; simple as that.

So, when a bike and three cars came bustling into town and quietly found a large room in the motel at the edge of town, no one battered an eye. Although the young lady at the front desk did certainly find it odd how much the man renting the room looked like a celebrity.

"You look just like that guy from the rock group," she told the handsome, blond stranger with a black scarf around his neck. He smiled and shrugged as she ducked down, pulling up a magazine she had been reading, just before hastily putting it away. "See? Right here! This Maximillion guy- Sir?"

The handsome stranger had long left her presence, having taken the keys he purchased and started up the stairs to the second floor. Dressed in casual jeans and a button up, the man with usually comforting, welcome eyes peered about sharply. Approaching the room with the same numbers adorned to the keys, he scanned once more around him, scouting the terrain for something. Finding nothing to his worry, he slid the key inside, unlocked the door, and opened it.

It was, to anyone who had paid the cost up front, a total rip-off. The walls of the large two-room rental were faded and stained, and the carpet smelled of many uncleaned visits. The thick, dusty air battered his nostrils, yet he remained grinning.

"Good," he murmured, and turned about. Now overlooking the thin metal railing on the second-floor motel, the adult waved over to a figure on a bike. Pink helmet still on, the figured nodded back. The room door left open behind him, the figure stepped inside and began a thorough inspection. With haste and deliberation, he swooped through bedsheets and uncleaned cabinets, on the lookout for anything out of place. Finally, he entered the bathroom and vanished from the sight of the main room.

Entering first, his weary eyes filled with suspicion and doubt, was Dipper Pines. His nose crumpled at the door as he looked about, critical of the entire space. Behind him, removing a large pink motorcycle helmet was his sister, Mabel Pines. Under her shoulders and around her arms were series of bandages- applied a day earlier after her spill from a moving motorcycle crash.

Mabel took in a long sniff. "Smells loved," she sighed as she stepped in after her brother.

Dipper cringed. "I'd rather not know who's loved in here," he said. Mabel snorted and gagged simultaneously. At her feet, a small pig oinked to her attention, drawing the brunets stare.

A red-head stepped around Mabel, looking around with a careful scan. "This is really the 'safe place' he said?" Wendy muttered, pulling on curtains as she side-stepped the twins, "The only thing safe from this room are clean smells."

Coming up last was a large man with thin stubble. "Maybe it's what keeps people away from finding us," Soos said, stepping into the doorway, holding a set of keys in his hands. He glanced behind him, the reflection of his eyes fixed on a beautiful red car he had inherited a day ago. Soos added with a sigh, "Anything that keeps us safe is good in our books."

"Anything?" Dipper asked, his eyes glued on the movement in the back of the room, where Zander jostled about. "I could think of a few that won't be."

"Good in our books?" Mabel asked towards Dipper, who nodded to the taller man as he backed out of the bathroom, grinning. "Oh."

As he stepped into the room, Zander Maximillion rubbed his hands together, nodding as his eyes darted from place to place. "Good. Good. Everything seems in place. Soos, close the door, would ya?" the rock-star asked politely with his smile.

"Huh?" Soos turned about, placing a hand on the door and closing it with a quick thud.

Zander smiled. "Thanks. Good," Zander nodded as he spun about once, slowly taking in the sights. A spare moment passed as nothing was said. The air grew tense and thin, as no one seemed to breath. Still smiling, the blond figure, now sighing in acceptance, spotted four wary stares. He paused, looking back- his smile frozen in place as he realized their intent. "I'm sensing some unspoken questions," he admitted.

Shooting quickly, Wendy spoke first. "How is this exactly the safe place you told us about yesterday?!" Wendy jabbed out quickly, pointing to the man with fury.

Mabel gasped and stepped aside. "Wendy, c'mon, calm down," Mabel timidly pleaded as the red-head approached.

Wendy was not done. "You said after we patched Mabel up that you were taking us to somewhere safe," Wendy reminded him, "And we held back long enough, dude! This?" she looked around, "My dad could punch through these walls with his pinky! With his tongue!"

"Hehehe, that's a funny image," Soos chuckled. Wendy turned and stared at him until he let out a deliberate cough. "But for real," he added to Wendy's argument suddenly, "She's got a point dawg. It's my job to keep them safe, and that was why I liked the idea of coming here. What's so safe about it?"

"Guys," Mabel pleaded, her voice a tad more shrill, "This is Zander we're talking about here. He's trust-worthy?" Mabel winced at the incredulous stares of the other three.

"Mabel, you don't need to play the devil's advocate," Zander grinned to her happily. "I'm capable of explaining why we're here."

"Please do," Dipper grumbled.

Zander spied the young boy for a moment, and walked past them, locking the door. "One," he started, holding up a finger, "This is about as a mundane looking and feeling motel as one can get, without actually being in a location I don't know about."

Mabel asked, her head tilting to the side, "And mundane is good?"

"Since we wish to hide, yes." Zander nodded. "Number two," he held aloft a second finger, "There are no good places to eat nearby. People don't tend to stick around areas that have little sources of food. If anyone came looking, this would be a last stop to look for us." He spun and closed the curtains with a quick tug and push.

Dipper scowled, looking away as he crossed his arms together. "Point taken."

"And finally," Zander grinned as he crossed past them, "There are a few tricks this hotel has."

"Huh?" the four muttered at once as he approached a pair of curtained lights above the night-stand. As he bent over and began to fiddle with a small, semi-loose screw, he spoke up again.

"You know, I'm a big believer in investing in promising youths," he said as he absentmindedly loosened the screw, small twist at a time. "People, when they're growing, need support, so they can become great. Well, in my experience, planting the seed can give you the chance to reap the fruit long after the expatriation date."

"What are you talking about?" Wendy sighed.

Mabel smirked, "Yeah, you're doing that mysterious teacher thing again."

Zander chuckled. "I invested with this buildings' manager thirty years ago." The four stared at him, and he glanced back as the screw become fully loosened. "I have a local friend update this room to keep it up to date. New gadgets every five years or so." With that, he straightened the screw and pushed it back in, no twisting or turning.

The two large beds beside him jostled and then began to slowly crane themselves up as two panels of the room split apart. The four stared, mouths agape, as the beds retreated into a secret compartment. From the floor, a duel set of highly customized computers and tables emerged. Complete with cameras, microphones, printers, scanning equipment, and devices that the four hadn't seen for themselves, merely imagined in science fiction, lay about.

At the faces of the four, Zander smirked. "This is one of my secret stashes. Looks a little out of date, but it'll manage," Zander said, and stepped over to a rising chair, between the two panels. Nearly a dozen monitors, each a foot or so in size, flickered to life.

A cold, firm female voice called out-loud, startling the younger inhabitants. "Password."

Zander looked to a central microphone and spoke, "Haddiya."

As the blank screens of the monitors shimmered and changed into a more optimized setting, filled with files and links to various web-sites or programs, Mabel gasped.

"I've heard that name before," she said.

"Huh?" Zander flashed his eyes to her, his smile fading.

"Yeah," Dipper nodded, "Recently."

Mabel recounted, "That was the same password to Steindorfs computers- the ones he secretly built under... under town," Mabel swallowed again, cutting her words off. A flash of pain crossed her face as she remembered certain things. Cries of loss. Begs to help. Flashes of light.

Zander stared at the four. His smile, warm and inviting as it had been usually, trembled. He nodded as he found a bitter grin to display. "Of course, it would be," he sighed and looked back to the computer monitor facing him and began to type on a keyboard.

"What is all of this, dude?" Soos asked, looking about.

"Information," Zander replied off-handedly.

"On what?" Dipper demanded.

Zander scoffed. "Everything."

Mabel cooed and approached Zander, walking around the first table to her and taking her place at his side. Before the illumination of the monitors on all sides, Mabel was brightly lit up, and her excitement was boundless. "Wow! You're also a super-secret-hacker-spy?"

Zander snorted. "Only sorta," Zander shook his head, "I have plenty of friends who are the real hackers. They monitor these networks for me."

"Why?" Wendy asked, also approaching, but distancing herself at the end of the table.

"I've got a better question," Dipper loudly declared as he cleared his throat. "Are we all just going to ignore the fact that Zander has been lying to us from the moment we all met him!?"

The typing on the keyboard stopped. What alleviations to the friction in the air had been accomplished were lost. They all watched Dipper as he glared down at Zander Maximillion, his eyes blazing with an intensity. The smile on the rock-star's face had vanished.

Zander said bluntly, "I don't follow."

"Don't lie even more!" Dipper snapped.

"Dipper," Mabel approached her brother, "c'mon-"

"No way," he snarled at her, "This has gone on long enough. We were patient enough with him when he said he'd take us to safety. Now we're in a secret spy hide-out, and he's still not telling us anymore!"

"I'm with Dipper on this one," Wendy nodded.

Mabel turned to Wendy. "Whaaat?" she pleaded. The red-head never budged. "Soos?" Mabel whipped about to the larger man, who was scratching the back of his head, holding his hat close to his chest within his hands.

"Ehh... sorta feeling the same way here, Mabel" Soos admitted. "I mean, he's not going out of his way to endanger anyone, but I think we ought to know something, ya know?" Mabel's gaze fell as she looked back to Zander.

Zander gave the twin a sad smile. "You're too eager to defend me," Zander snorted, and slowly stood up from his seat. With an apologetic glance, he turned to Dipper. After a sigh, studying the constancy of Dipper's rage, Zander looked back to Mabel. "I did warn you, didn't I?" he started. "That you don't know me as well as you thought?"

Dipper, with venomous intent, inquired, "That excuses something as big as being able to help us the entire time and choosing not to?"

Zander's gaze whipped back to the male twin. "You're talking about me being the Guardsman," he sighed.

"Of course I am!" Dipper screamed. "What else could I be talking about!? All this time, all those talks with you, looking for your help with things, walking and talking and fighting alongside with you, and you had been able to do... do..." Dipper threw his hands about, waving them around wildly as frustration and an inability to creatively express the fights he had witnessed the Guardsman and Sorcerer. "All that!" Dipper roared.

Zander took a moment, watching Dipper flail. "So... yes. I'm the Guardsman," Zander admitted, adjusting the scarf around his neck.

Dipper faltered, breath escaping him. "You... so... what else?!"

"What else?" Zander repeated.

Dipper shouted, "What else haven't you told us!?"

"A lot," Zander quickly said.

"So then why should we trust you!?"

Zander took a long breath and turned to Mabel. As her eyes shimmered, he presented her a small, gentle smile. "Because you need my help."

Dipper scoffed no less than five times, turning away, and then back, to Zander each time. The answer was too simple to be true, yet too effective to let Dipper fly back with a retort.

"Why?" Wendy said. "What else could we need help with now? Gravity Falls is gone," she reminded him harshly, her throat tensing and her voice straining. "Everyone is just... gone now."

The mere mentioning of the previous day's events brought a stir to the others. Soos hiccupped and wiped his eyes. Dipper turned away and rested his head against the wall, head-butting it briefly before coming to rest. Mabel's energy lowered even more, and she fidgeted with the lining of her sweater; if there was a time for good 'ol sweatertown, it was now.

"I'm... I'm sorry," Zander looked between them all. "I really am, guys," he shook his head. "The war that Omir and I had been between for... more than you've been alive, brought this upon you. It's my fault that this happened. All of it," he quietly stated. His energy bounded back into its place, and a strength locked itself into place within his eyes. "And I'm sorry, but there are worse things going on now."

These words rocked Dipper to his core. Mabel could feel the hateful bubbling in her twin and reacted quickly. Dipper whipped around, and made towards Zander. Only his sister could withhold him, and he still tugged viciously for freedom.

"People are gone!" Dipper snapped, his voice a harsh whisper. "People are erased from reality because you failed! Our Grunkle, their families," Dipper pointed to Wendy and Soos as he stepped past Mabel, standing before Zander, glaring up at the taller figure, "Your own apprentice – they're all gone, and you think that's not important!?"

Zander shook his head. "That's not what I said. Trust me, I know how important family is-"

"Right," Dipper snorted, "Says the guy who says he hasn't spoken to his family for years. I'm sure you know your priorities."

"Dipper!" Mabel scolded him, her mind in shock.

Despite her accusatory snap, Dipper ignored Mabel, still glaring at the man he formally considered his friend. "If you really want our trust, you can start with the beginning," Dipper told him.

Zander, his eyes a few degrees colder than they were before, eyed Dipper. "Of what?" he asked.

Dipper scoffed. "How did you escape?"

Zander smirked and stepped away, moving towards his seat. Basked in the dim glow of twelve monitors, the Guardsman and famous rock star sat before them as they collected, waiting to hear his answer.

"Once you all had left," he started, a grin flickering at the corners of his mouth, "I was able to get a bit more... creative. It didn't take little boy Graupner long to realize that I wasn't who he thought I was. Once he did realize, he fled. He left those plant monsters to their fate. I was going to bring him down. It felt like I should, especially since he was... well, a wraith," he cleared his throat, "But he escaped to the surface. Magic has some benefits, including quick escapes."

"He got away?" Wendy scowled.

Zander nodded. "But after that I got to the surface just in time. I saw the town in battle, and ran inside. You," Zander pointed to the twins, "and Arline already left. Before I could get Pacifica or anyone else out... I saw the blast. I had to leave, or else there wouldn't be a chance."

"For you to survive?" Dipper guessed with bitter notes. Zander shook his head. "You don't care about yourself now? Even though you're the only person who escaped?"

"Aside from you four," he reminded him, pointing to them lazily.

"We- you-" Dipper boiled with anger.

"Arline forced us to leave," Mabel quietly stated. "She could have made it out... but she said she'd stay behind to stall the explosion."

Zander nodded slowly, his eyes deep in thought. "Of course. She... dang it, Arline," Zander put a hand into his face. Dipper, despite his anger, and the three watched as the rock star had to, for the first time since they met him, had to re-collect himself. After a moment, he raised his head from his hands and looked them in their eyes. "She lost herself for you four."

"So did Mister Pines," Soos piped up.

Zander nodded at Soos courteously. "Which leads to why you need my help," Zander sighed, and turned to the closest monitor. He began to type away, leaving the four without answer.

"And that is?" Dipper demanded.

Zander turned his head back to them. "Saving the world." He tapped a key once, and rolled the chair under the table to sit closer to the screen. "C'mere," he nodded them over, and looked to the screen. "You all remember what I said to you Dipper," Zander said to him, "In the glade?"

"Oh.. oh yeah, that was you," Dipper grumbled, remembering the severe beating that he had received from the Guardsman personally.

Zander began to teach them like he was a lecturer. "I explained the purpose of the stone. When it was created and enchanted, it absorbed, at the time, eighty percent of the world's maximum magic. In fourteen seventy-nine, the total magic of the world was reduced to four times less than normal. It's called, by those who know of it or were alive back then, 'The Great Siphon'."

"What does this have to do with saving the world exactly?" Wendy asked, but Mabel gasped.

"If the stone was some crazy doo-hicky sponge," Mabel reasoned, "That means that when it's gone..."

"Wait a second," Dipper read into his sister's mind through her eyes, "Does all the magic return to the world when the stone is gone?" he asked to Zander.

The older man slowly nodded. "I wondered the same hundreds of years ago, but since then, I found the evidence to prove it," he told them, and turned back to the computer.

"So magic is going to destroy the world?" Soos gulped, "Aww dudes, I'm getting a huge sense of déjà-vu.

"You know, same here," Mabel looked to her friend.

"Actually," Zander sighed, "Magic won't exactly be the end."

"Huh? Wendy asked, "Then what is?"

"People," Zander stated.

"What?" Dipper asked.

Zander, again displaying once-thought uncharacteristic dourness, took a big, heavy sigh. "Guys, I know you have lived in an age where we are exposed to fantasy every day. The idea of magical creatures amazes us all – well, those of us who are not," Zander looked to Wendy, who scowled back. Zander continued, "But imagine the chaos when people really begin to understand that, with magic, anything can be done?"

"Progress?" Dipper stated.

"Revolutionize technology into a new era?" Soos asked.

"Cures for... everything?" Wendy suggested.

"Kittens for hands!" Mabel gasped, her eyes wide as they could get.

Zander shook his head. "And those who are selfish?" Zander proposed, "The hundreds who could stumble into trinkets and enchanted toys that they could use to change the face of the planet?"

"Well, that's... uh..." Mabel stumbled for words as the other three went silent. "Well, I'm sure they'd just turn them in for rewards... like money?"

"Yeah right," Wendy scoffed, pocketing her hands, "I mean, just look at Robbie. Tried hypnotizing me with that stuff, remember? And that was just to get with me- a girl."

"Not just any girl, to be fair," Dipper shrugged. Mabel would have been sure Dipper had seen the incredible look Wendy gave him. The fact he was glued on Zander with his anger would come to haunt him for years to come. She had looked to Dipper like he was made of gold.

Firmly, Zander told them all, "Magic is dangerous. You put in finite training and get infinite results. It means people can put in a few years to learn a spell of telepathy, and then start trying to teleport into banks, or suggestions spells and then force people to think and act how they'd want them to. Mind control, physical manipulation, magical bombs and poisons, disease-"

Soos, scratching his neck in worry, admitted, "Man, and I thought the stuff Gravity Falls threw at us was crazy."

"Barely. But it's worse," Zander furthered, pointing to the screen. Before them, as they all leaned in, was a dark and sparely decorated web-page, with only a black background with a pair of large, red and yellow eyes peering at them from the top right corner.

"World Mysteries dot com?" Mabel asked.

"Made it myself, with some help," Zander admitted, "It's a website for people to post links of material which are ignored and looked down on by society. Mostly paranormal researchers with nothing real on their hands, and over-enthusiastic U.F.O. hunters, post videos here. But every once in a while," he grinned, "We get someone to link something real. Then we find it, and figure out what to do with it then."

"We?" Dipper asked. "You and Arline?"

"Well... yes, and no," Zander cringed. "I was in hiding for a while, so I had a few other friends pick up the work for me. My other students, that is," he shrugged. "Anyway, we never, ever get mainstream news poster on this website- unless people are making fun of something, or something funny happened and we all want to share, you know?" he added with a grin.

"Ha, totally," Soos nodded, "on Fixin' it with Soos, I used to post pictures of funny shaped cactus with photoshopped mustaches."

"That sounds amazing," Mabel awed at him.

"Well, look here," Zander pointed to a link. With a brisk push of his fingers, he clicked it twice. Before them a new page appeared- a common video website. They all leaned in again, and this time Dipper read it aloud.

"News At Eight Fifty Four – Sea Monsters Among us?" he gasped.

"Shh," Zander calmly shushed him.

The News anchor, in mid-sentence, began addressing them,- a woman in her mid-thirties with shoulder length blond hair and dark eyes.

"-Furthering on the news of strange happenings around the world, we bring you to our field representative, live on the scene in the bay area. Let's go to our friend Baker," the screen then cut in half as a cameraman followed a skinny man wearing a rain jacket, "Baker, what's going on down there? Looks like it's raining."

"Hi Liz!" the man, baker, with short black hair tucked under his cap, turned as he walked towards what appeared to be the water's edge just underneath the golden gate bridge. "I'm here now, just passing under the golden gate bridge to an area which hikers and health-enthusiasts have recently claimed to have become inhabited by – guess what – mermaids!"

"No. Freaking. Way," Mabel gasped. She suddenly grabbed Dipper, shaking him back and forth, "do you think Mermando could be on TV!?"

"Shhh!" Dipper hissed at her, shaking her from his grasp.

The news anchor, still on one half the screen half-chuckled, her voice cracking. "Baker, did I hear that right? Mermaids?"

"Yes! Crazy as it is, there have been more than a dozen consistent sightings of human-like beings with fish halves!" he said, looking to the camera, "We're on the scene to really see if this is true, or if my career has just taken it's turn to the lowest it will ever go. So," he cleared his throat and rounded a corner, following a path under the busy bridge above, "If we see- Ahh!" he gasped and leapt away.

"Baker? Is everything okay?" the news anchor, Liz asked, a worried frown about her.

The man on the scene had taken several steps back, now pointing over the shoulder of the hidden cameraman. The man rounded the corner and, to their shock, and the awe of the four watching with Zander, a whole party of Mermaids. A literal party was going on, with what appeared to be a fish cake, clams for kelp-drinks, and floating balloons made of pufferfish.

"Hey Bruno," one of the mermaids asked, her voice pleasant and at ease, "Pour me some of your ink-tea?"

"Sure thing," the closest to the camera, a mermaid facing away from them, nodded and began to pour from a pitcher fashioned from a conch. "I think it goes really well with a bit of crab, you know," he told her.

"Are you getting this?" Baker asked the camera, obscuring the footage for a moment. No sooner had he said this than the seven mermen and mermaids stopped and turned to him from their jolly activities and stared. "Uh oh. You think they notice us?" Baker asked.

The closest to him slowly raised it's clamshell cup. "Want some sea-foam? It's been salted with, well," it looked to it's clam, "Sea-salt."

Baker and the cameraman instantly screamed and fled, turning and running for their lives. The video feed stopped and Zander leaned back.

Dipper furrowed his face, twisting his lips as he dwelled. "Well, aside from them over-reacting to the mermaids," Dipper shrugged, "That wasn't so much of a big deal. Now people will start believing my stories, that's all," Dipper crossed his arms tightly.

Mabel snorted. "Yeah, while Dipper's being all up-tighty-whitey about it," Mabel gently smacked the back of his head, nudging off his beanie, "That wasn't so bad."

"Not entirely," Zander sighed. "First of all, the fact that mainstream media is picking this up mean's everyone is noticing this. Everyone. For now, people are going to assume this is a massive, world-wide prank."

"Like the one time that seven bigfoot were sighted in major cities enjoying coffees?" Soos asked.

Zander turned to him. "No. That was real. It was more freaky that seven sasquatches decided to have coffee at the same time. The chances are so slim that- also, they don't like the term 'bigfoot'," Zander added.

"Really?" Wendy asked, "I thought it'd be a compliment."

"Off topic," Dipper reminded them. "Why is this really so bad? People knowing about this isn't so bad."

"Hypothetically, you'd be right," Zander allowed him. "What makes this bad is that when the stone is destroyed, the magic returns... slowly. Not all at once, but in waves."

Dipper's eyes widened. "You mean... this is just a teaser?" To that, Zander nodded. The young teen gasped. He finally could see what made this a big deal; magic was a rare thing until yesterday. If it was common enough now where mermaids felt at ease enough to climb up to shores and have small picnics in rocky beaches, Dipper was certain it had grown substantially. But if this was just the beginning...

Wendy, sensing growing concern from Dipper, asked Zander, "How much more are we expecting? Of magic growth or whatever?"

"Well," Zander gulped as he looked back to the screen. He leaned forward, and spoke into the microphone, "Chart: magic resurgence rate after Sorcerer success."

"Retrieving file," the voice stated.

"Wow, thanks computer lady!" Mabel chimed happily.

Before them the web browser vanished, and a numeric chart was presented. One axis was labeled 'five days' and the other was labeled 'Arcana resurgences by percentile'.

Zander leaned forward. He pointed to the chart before them, displaying the information. "This is a graph that shows the return rate of magic to our world. You see, with the stone gone, the magic maximum, which had been lowered down to twenty percent it's normal maximum, was restored to its total. That means this world can have five times the normal magic abundance that you have ever seen. But that is its maximum, not it's current."

Soos scratched his chin. "So, the world is slowly... filling it back up?" Soos asked, "Like auto-fill, or something zany?"

"Yeap," Zander said with a pop of his lips. He prodded the screen. A line emerged from the zero, at the cross between both axis, and moved right, and stopped at the first line.

"This is five days of re-growth. We'll see barely one percent increase in magic, or Arcana, in this time." He tapped the screen again, and the line furthered, but higher up than previously, "Then we hit ten days from now. About three percent will have returned." He tapped again. The line was higher on the next increase. "Then seven percent at fifteen days." He tapped again. "At twenty days, fifteen percent." Another tap. "Twenty-five days, forty one percent." A loud prod and the final line hit it's mark. "At thirty days, seventy three percent."

"Dang," Dipper sighed.

"Is that really bad?" Wendy asked.

Dipper nodded, coming to, perhaps, a similar realization that Zander had come to. He told them, "Considering one day allows the more civilized things to come back into the world without a fuss, this is... this is going to be bad. Imagine the monsters that'll start returning when ten percent comes, or fifty!"

Zander looked to them all, ignoring the red line of the graph behind him. "You need my help, because mermaids will be the least of your concerns in a month. Dragons could start to return, breathing fire onto farms and suburbia. Undead will begin to rise again and haunt the living everywhere. Demigods and divine entities could return. Sea monsters, large enough to swallow fishing ships, moving, animated mountains, time travel-"

"That one already exists," Mabel pointed out.

Zander stalled, and stared at her, his thought de-railed. He squinted at her, perhaps uncertain if she was serious.

Mabel added, just to clarify, "Dipper and I went to the future, and past, a few times."

Zander blinked, and shook his head. "...This will only get worse. And at a certain point," Zander shifted in his seat, "It will be irreversible."

"Crud," Wendy grunted, "Then what do we do?"

Dipper snorted and nodded. "Reverse it, right?" he asked the rock star before him. Zander Maximillion finally had his smile, that trade-mark smile, return to him as he nodded. Dipper, despite his resentment at Zander having withheld on them for the entire summer, felt hope at that smile. He said to Zander, "Okay... fine. How do we do this?"

Without looking behind him, Zander spoke to the computer, "Access file: backup plan."

The computer replied, "Accessing file..." then a moment later, an image of a soft, glowing stone that's color resembled the stars of space itself was displayed.

Zander said, "We get the stone back."

Dipper nodded. "How?"

"I have a plan," Zander admitted. When they waited for more, he grinned. "Are you with me?"

Silence fell before the darkened room. The already stunned four watched the rock star study them back, his green eyes pouring over their forms. He awaited patiently, letting them come to their own decisions.

"Not much else I can do or go to now, is there?" Wendy shrugged. "I'm in."

"If it means getting home back," Soos said, "Me too. Fixin' it is about to go to a whole new level, dawg."

"Me too," Mabel grinned, "I mean, saving the day was already our thing, so saving the world shouldn't be that much of a step up," she said. Zander chuckled, and she felt her cheeks redden.

Zander turned to Dipper, still waiting. The boy's cross nature had lessened in the face of possible world-wide danger. A small smile crossed his lips, and Dipper looked up from the floor to Zander. "You really think it can happen? We can do this?"

"Let me ask you," Zander countered, "Do you think we really have much of a choice?"

Dipper snorted. "No. If it means we stop people like Bill Cipher, then yes. I'm doing it," Dipper announced.

"Good," Zander stood. He spun about, and pulled back the screw. The two computers began their de-activation and descent, along with Zander's chair, into the floor. Beds slowly lowered into the room, and the room's natural light faded back. "Then rest up as fast as you can, because we start gathering starkissed fragments in four hours."

"Four hours?" The twins mimed each other.

Wendy shrugged. "I can't rest anyway."

"Why the rush?" Mabel asked, "I mean, it's not like we're competing with anyone." Zander, halfway from twisting the screw back into place paused, gave them all a significant look, and turned back to his task, turning his wrist. "Uhhh," Mabel gulped, "That wasn't ominous at all."

Dipper didn't need other clues to know that Zander had thought of something. "What else is there?" Dipper asked.

Zander, looking sour and tired, said, "When the word gets out that someone's gathering up fragments of Starkissed, some very bad people are going to want what we have. It is, after all, a super-rare material that is, by nature, magic. But... I have the sneaking feeling that there's someone in specific who's going to be after the stones, and more specifically," he looked to the twins, "You two."

"What?" Mabel asked, glancing around. "Who would want us for something sinister and bad and horrible and stuff?" Mabel asked. Next to her, Dipper's nose crinkled. He looked sick and furious simultaneously. Mabel, tilting her head, then gasped, and moaned out, "Noo."

"Who else," Dipper remarked coldly. A scar running across his arm twinged and the recollection of his skin burning for hours called back into his mind.

"Yes," Zander nodded, "The only person who got away. The one person who knows you four are trouble. The person who is heading, right now, towards the Steindorf and Co headquarters."

Dipper growled, "Graupner Kniley."

The average day in Los Angeles was borderline hellish. The heat was unbearable, the people miserable, the traffic soul-crushing. It wasn't all that surprising then that those who could tolerate the settings were those gaining most from it. Those rich and successful enjoyed their places in the city; places of promise and profit.

Standing amidst the large sprawl of the downtown area, a large building belonging to a multi-billion-dollar corporation rose to the sky. Not the tallest, nor the most impressive, the Steindorf & Co. building heralded a magnificent display. Modern in design and cleverly laid out, the picturesque front was a marvel and a sight all on its own. People passing by would eye it, with marvelous red and gold columns reaching up and holding fast the building. Yet, marching up to the large, twenty story building in the middle of downtown LA, was not one of these people.

A young man, wearing a black eyepatch over his left eye moved at a brisk pace. There was a sinister smile about him as he eyed the large glass wall before him. He passed by various sight-seers, his dirty clothes a stain on the high sense of fashion around him. Even with several disgusted glances shot towards him, he did little to deter them. His mind, it seemed, was set on his goal.

Through the automated doors, he stepped inside the cooled interior. Never breaking a sweat, he walked up to the front desk, where one of many attendants, a young lady, awaited him. Brushing her short black hair aside, she saw him immediately and became visibly worried.

"Good morning, sir," she quietly said as the thin man in his black, robe-like jacket approached. "Should I send word for Mister Steindorf that you've arrived?"

"He's not here," Graupner Kinley answered for her, rolling his eyes. "I'm here to talk to the reps."

"Sir, I-" she started.

"That's Mister Kinley," he cut into her words icily. He massaged at his neck tenderly.

With a nervous clearing of her throat, she nodded. "Okay. Mister Kinley, the presidents of the company, and Mister Steindorf have made it clear that you are only authorized to make claims when only he-"

"Yeah, yeah," Graupner said again, leaning in closer, "Look, I'm in a hurry, okay? I'm going up. You tell them I'm coming, or they can be surprised. Up to you." Without another word, he leaned away, spun, and marched over to a series of elevators.

"Wait!" the woman stood from her chair, desperate to stop him. "You can't interrupt them now! They're in a meeting."

Graupner chuckled. "Things are changing." As he winced from his words, he then snapped his fingers. Two nearby guards stepped closer, blocking the secretary from coming closer. The woman, in her tall heels skidded to a halt and fell, landing her face right at the large combat boots of the two black, clad men before her.

"What?" she breathily said.

"Don't both yourself with the big fish," Graupner growled, slamming a finger into the controller panel inside the elevator. Graupner took a moment to really knead into his neck. "Ow. Even gone, his curse is still here. So annoying," he grumbled, and the elevators closed before him.

Riding up the metal and mirror casket was a welcome rest. Graupner stumbled against one of the walls, and lifted a hand to the eye patch. With a quick tear, he lifted it up, revealing the blackened eye socket, and it's single, bead-sized component. With one of the mirrors at his back, he spun around, and looked into his face.

"No food," he muttered, "no drink. No sleep," he panted, "Just power. Raw power," he swallowed, closing his one remaining eye with a heavy sigh. "It'll be worth it in the end. Yeah. I'll prove them all wrong." As he opened his remaining natural eye, the red stone flashed and he growled. Pushing himself upright, he grinned, adjusting his hair and flattening the many wrinkles in his clothing. "It's only a matter of time before this ship falls apart anyway. Might as well salvage before swimming for shore." The final beeps of the elevator rising heralded the coming floor, and Graupner pulled down his eyepatch to cover his face.

On the nineteenth floor his elevator doors opened, and he stepped out. Before him was a large reception area. Normally, a single proud desk would stand before him, a cool and highly trained secretary personally hired by Omir Steindorf at the ready. Now a cluster of twelve armed soldiers, all in black attire and combat material awaited him, fully automatic weapons at the ready. The secretary had her back to the wall, her hands in the air as she watched Graupner step out and smile.

"Claire," he grinned, doing his best to ignore the stinging down his throat, "I see you met my friends."

The woman shook her head. "You can't do this," she reasoned with him.

"Why not?" he retorted.

"When your boss figures out-"

"Steindorf is gone," Graupner snarled, gnashing his teeth as he easily side-stepped one of the waiting mercenaries. "He's not in charge any more. And as I hear," Graupner stayed silent for a moment, listening to the panic in the halls behind a double door of thick clouded glass, "People are already beginning to wonder about that."

"Gone where?" the woman, Claire, asked, "He said he was going to a business convention nearly a month ago."

"A convention in a town that never existed?" Graupner asked with a knowing leer. Claire's eyes shot wide as she stared. "That's right. I know what's going on. And I'm telling you," Graupner pulled open the double doors before him, and strode through, "I'm now the one in charge. Times are changing."

The double doors slammed shut behind him, only to then be shoved open once more. The twelve soldiers, their faces all hidden with gas masks and full-body armor, followed in his wake. Never addressing them, Graupner indicated to hallways as he passed. "Round everyone up. I don't care if you kill anyone, just destroy as little as possible."

With a pained groan, Graupner pushed onward. Wwo by two, the men behind him split into hallways leading away, their guns at the ready. Many clouded walls revealed people frantically working, making desperate calls and hastily demanding answers. The soldiers quickly would find them, and pull them away, shoving them to the elevators at gun point. Only Graupner moved without restrict. Ahead of him, and his cool pace, was the door leading into the presidents lounge. Stopping feet from the door, he could hear the frustration emanating outwards. Graupner grinned; imagining the stiff old coots desperate to find out where their CEO had been for a month amused him. The idea of what he was about to do to them next almost made him burst out laughing.

He wrenched open the door and stepped inside with a wide grin.

The room was a large and rectangular space, modern and sleek. Only four plants, one at each corner stood, and a large oval table was rooted in the center. Five older man, all nearing the age of Omir or slightly younger stood and leaned to one another. A clerk, with a thin but toned body, at the end closest to Graupner gasped and stood up. As he did, the other five paused and turned.

"Gentlemen," The Warlock politely nodded, stepping further into the room.

"You," the tallest and oldest of the five, his back to a large window, "In case your thick head didn't realize, we're busy at the moment. We don't have the time to hear out anything you'd like, nor are we interested in your boasting, or your stupid attempts at appearing like a pirate. Get out, now."

"Too bad, you old fart," Graupner sneered, taking his time to walk around the table, approaching the five, "I'm here to let you all in on what happened to your boss."

"Omir?" one of the men, with thinning, wispy blond hair asked. Graupner sneered.

"You know?" another, of darker complexion and thin, wary eyes asked.

Graupner nodded. "I would, seeing how's he my master," Graupner reminded them. "He's gone from reality itself." The blunt announcement took them all by shock. Only the oldest, the taller man with white hair who had spoken first to Graupner was able to collect himself from the strange announcement.

The rich president of the company scoffed. "If this is more of that ludicrous magic nonsense that's been gossiped about-"

"It's what caused the magic," Graupner interrupted.

"Do not interrupt me while I talk!" the old man howled. Graupner's smile remained pleasant, but his eyes went cold and dangerous as he honed in on his target. The president of the company adjusted his tie and took several breaths. "I frankly don't care for this stupid talk of magic, and monsters, and freaks; which I consider you among!" the old man pointed at Gruapner, who's smile faltered, as ice ran through his veins and fire in his head. The old man continued, "Now I don't know what you thought you'd accomplish by coming up here and announcing all of this ridiculousness, but I will not stand for it." The president grasped at a small phone and began to press buttons.

"Then I'll cut to the chase," Graupner grumbled, his mood ruined. "I'm here to claim myself the new head of all things Steindorf and Co. related." The five laughed. Refraining from spitting out from the pain, Graupner snapped, "And my first order of business is to totally liquidize the company assets."

"What makes you think you have any authority to make that claim?" another of the vice-presidents quieted from his chuckling, adjusting his seat and wiping his pale bald head with a handkerchief.

"Glad you asked," Graupner pulled out from his pocket a rolled-up piece of paper, and tossed it at the closest one. The man with darker skin took it and scanned it quickly, his eyes narrowing before widening. "I am the true successor of the company, once my master has stepped down."

"This... I've never seen this paper before," the closest vice-president stated as he held the paper out.

"Was just between me and my master," Graupner shrugged.

"Unless authorized, by us," the president began.

"Yeah, I know," Graupner snapped. "Which is why I'm here. I'm here to get your official recognition for my new standing as complete and total head of the company, and then to have all assets added to my name."

Another round of laughter came from the five. Graupner glanced over his shoulder to the clerk, who's eyes had remained glued on the doors, where the dim chatter of men and women being escorted to the elevators forcibly were drowned out by the conversation between the Warlock and the old men.

"And why would we do anything like that? Humor me," the president asked.

Graupner approached, looking up to the six foot four inches of old man with a smile. "Because I'm going to have you killed if you don't."

The room went deadly silent as Gruapner took his last step before the president. The eyes of one another met and locked- man in power and man with power. The mouth of the president twitched as he snorted.

"I was wondering how long it was until you snapped," the elder man said quietly. "You've always been a madman. I heard about those things Omir had done to keep your head out of hot water. Now, you think because Omir vanished from the face of the earth, and that by threatening me, you get to step into his seat? I'm glad I called for security a minute ago," he admitted, grinning.

Graupner gasped, mocking shock. "Oh! Oh no!" he put a hand to his forehead. "I guess that means... I'll have to wait for them." Not ready to disappoint, six of the mercenary figures stormed into the room, and approached the elderly men.

"Good," the president sighed, "Remove this man from my-" two of the security guards approached and grasped his arms, pinning them aside as they lifted him into the air. "What!? Put me d-down this instant!"

Graupner approached, walking by the other four guards as they each place the business ends of their weapons towards the now cowering vice-presidents. "What's wrong? Did you stutter?" he smirked, placing a hand to the presidents lifted chest.

"Men, I order you to-"

"THEY WONT OBEY TO YOU ANYMORE!" Graupner roared, his smile replaced with a blood-lusted grimace. The searing pain that raced with his voice caused him to flinch, and he held his neck before them.

The president trembled, his lips twisting silently as he fought for words. The Warlock poked the chest twice, making sure to prod the elderly man's bone as hard as he could.

"These soldiers listen to whoever is in charge with the company. And that, starting a day ago, was me," Graupner grinned. "So, first rule of business," he changed his tone, walking around the still held aloft president, looking at the windows, "Is the liquidation of all assets of the company into the various accounts and then the withdrawing of all funds."

"You're mad," the president muttered.

Pain thrummed in Graupner's vocal cords. He almost teared up. Instead, he placed his hand on the window, seeing the vast drop below him. "Maybe a little. My master would have said I'm 'drunk with power'," Graupner admitted. He turned then, finally serious in the face as his smile was replaced with a stern glare. "But he's gone. So, you have your choice," Graupner informed the six in the room aside from the guards, "Work with me to make this process faster, or you can be dropped from the company."

"Boy," the president said, still facing towards the interior of the huge corporate building, held in the air, "I have worked in this great company longer than you have been alive. If you truly intend to run it into the ground like you say, you will do it without me."

Graupner sighed, nodding. "Good to hear," he said, and nodded to the window. The two guardsman took steps towards the younger spell-user, holding the old man with him. "Because I was hoping to have an example. Thanks for volunteering."

Graupner snapped his fingers, and the two guards, each with a loud roar, tossed the president at the window.

The president hit the thick glass with a loud thud and fell with a gasp, holding his head.

"Oh," Graupner grumbled, "hmm. Thought that'd break." He shrugged and snapped his fingers again. The two guards looked down to the cowering old man and lifted him back up. "Well, take two. Toss him out."

"No, wait!" the president begged.

The president was thrown through the air, and hit the glass with another equally sturdy thud.

"Oh c'mon!" Graupner yelled in frustration as the president fell to the ground, crying as he held the back of his head.

"That glass is bullet proof," the dark skinned vice-president informed him, "It wouldn't break from that!"

"But that always happens in movies," Graupner wined, "I was looking so forward to seeing his stupid face as he fell!" With a loud stamp of his foot, he snapped his fingers again.

"No! NO!" The president cried and meagerly fought back against the grip of the two large men as he was lifted again. "I have such a headache! STOP-"

WHAM.

The president again fell to the floor, only leaving smudges on the pristine window behind him.

"Who was the idiot who installed bullet proof glass on the nineteenth floor of an office building!?" Graupner demanded. The four vice-presidents slowly pointed to the crouching, whimpering president. "This is so stupid!" Graupner yelled.

"So much for your fancy magic," the president managed with a grin, craning his head as he held his own hands on his neck.

"YOU- I... wait," Graupner stared at the elderly man. "Oops. Thanks, almost forgot about that," he chuckled.

Graupner turned, placed his palm against the window, and shouted. The glass, all at once, cracked and shattered. Wind whipped into the room as the window granting those inside cover was obliterated. The four still in their seats yelled, holding their hands over their heads as the splices of glass splashed around them, entirely unaffecting Graupner, who smile was reflected in dozens of larger fragments.

"Shatter magic," Graupner sighed, clapping his hands clear of dust. "So basic I forgot I had it. Now," he nodded to the guards. They, once again, lifted the now stunned elderly man, and lifted him into the air. "Let's leave on a," he said as the president was suspended over the ledge, "high note?" Graupner grinned.

"Wait!"

Graupner whipped around. At the far end of the room, the clerk had just stood, his hands extended.

"You can't just intend on killing him!" the man shouted at Graupner. The Warlock merely shrugged. The clerk added, "Why? Because he merely 'annoys' you?"

"Wouldn't be the first time," Graupner snorted.

The clerk started to make it around to the table, approaching the Warlock tentatively. "I think it would be worse for him to live than die, myself." Graupner's eyelid twitched, yet he said nothing. "Think about it," the clerk assured him, pleading for a life, "If he cares enough to die for his company, wouldn't it, uh, be worse to force him to watch as everything he worked for you take away?"

The violently visible annoyance in Graupner's eyes wiped away as he considered the thought. As if seeing the clerk for the first time, he nodded to the brunet man. "What's your name?"

"Alvis Leuthar," the clerk gave a small nod. "We've met once or twice, Mister Kinley."

The Warlock's eyes widened. "Mister?" Graupner grinned, and adjusted himself, standing straighter than before. "You're not wrong, Alvis," Graupner admitted, "but I need to put a message out."

"Which is?" Alivs hastily asked.

"That I'm in charge!" Graupner growled.

"That is clear," Alvis nearly bowed as he spoke, and then took several more brave steps forward. "But if you're worried that you will be unable to liquidize the company without these, uh, gentlemen-"

"Old collections of dust," Graupner corrected him.

"-Right!" Alvis smiled and nodded, "Well, you should know that I respond to all of them as the personal in-between. As far as I'm concerned, I already do their jobs for them, I just need their permissions to do it. Maybe, instead of using them, you could, uh, use me?" Alvis suggested.

"Be quiet, you-" one of the vice presidents demanded.

"You! Shut up!" Graupner barked at him, and the elderly figure fell silent. Turning back to the shaken clerk, the Warlock eyed him. "You think you can do what I want?"

"I know I can," Alvis proclaimed.

"You'll be jailed for this, you traitor!" the president, still held aloft barked at him. "Backstabbing us, the company!"

The Warlock smiled after hearing this. "Then I love it."

"On one condition," Alvis lifted a finger, "I want in on whatever you're doing."

Graupner pondered the condition. His eyes focused in on the man before him. In the few moments he had even spoken to this clerk, Alvis Leuthar, he had already come to find a fondness for him. He was direct, talented at what Graupner needed him for, and spoke to him as a superior. That last bit alone was almost more important than the previous two brownie points before it.

Groaning in pain before speaking, Graupner asked this man, "What do you think I'm trying to do, exactly?"

"Build something powerful," Alvis said, the ghost of a smirk in the corners of his mouth and his eyes widening with excitement.

"You know," Graupner stepped closer, and the clerk bowed his head, "I don't tend to like people. I really don't." He was now a foot away from the bent over man named Alvis. "But I like you so far," the Warlock admitted, a half-shrug in his shoulders as he spoke. Alvis dared not look up. "So... consider it a deal... apprentice."

Alvis turned his head, looking up to the Warlock, who leered down at him. "Thank you," Alvis bowed again, recognizing the gift given to him.

Now, my first bit of advice from you. What should we do with these men?" Graupner waved his hand behind him, motioning the two guards to toss the old man forward, against the ground again.

"Well," Alvis eyed his former bosses, "If you're looking to get money, the best bet is to ransom them to their families. Half their fortune or they are never seen again," Alvis suggested.

"Hm. Cool," Graupner nodded, and pressed past Alvis, waving for him to follow, "You are now my second in command. These soldiers will listen to you," Graupner explained to Avlis, following in his footsteps, "I'm expecting you to wrap this all up for me."

"Absolutely," the former clerk nodded.

"Good," Graupner grinned as he and his new apprentice, who was half a foot taller than him, "I'm glad there are people who are reliable in this world."

Alvis restrained a smirk as they walked past the other office-workers, all being rounded up by the armed soldiers. "You know, I'm impressed with your speed," Alvis stated as they made it to the elevator. As the door opened, Alvis stepped in with Graupner, and pressed the button for him. "If what you said was true, you only had a day or so to accomplish this much control over Mister Steindorfs personal soldiers."

"Something like that," Graupner grinned, feeling deep satisfaction in the spoken compliments.

"How though? Alvis asked.

Graupner grinned at himself in the mirror, and lifted the eyepatch. Alvis gasped, staring into the small red stone. "Magic is power, and power is everything," Graupner told him. As the ground floor elevator doors opened and the two stepped out, Graupner placed back down the eyepatch, shadowed by Alvis. "As soon as possible, I want all resources responding to your or me directly. Show of force or whatever. We need to be able to act wherever we want to when we want to."

"I'll get some private security forces on that. With hired guns on our side, we should be able to move as we need," Alvis stated as they moved through the panicking main lobby, soldiers and security officers forcing more men and women to vacate the premises.

Despite the searing agony in his throat for talking as much as he had, Graupner sneered. "Good. I need you to also have a small group meet me in Oregon," The Warlock stated.

"Ah, okay," Alvis nodded, but frowned as they passed outside, where a crowd of pedestrians stared up at the building, pointing to a broken window on the nineteenth floor. "Any reason why Oregon specifically? It's not one of our more popular states."

"Because," Graupner said, his eyes distant in thought, "there are a few ties I have to deal with still." He paused, and looked to Alvis. "We have strong enemies now. This world is changing into something great, and we can be on the top."

"You can," Alvis corrected him.

Graupner cackled, his smile twisted and wicked. "Perfect," he nodded, but straightened his smile, "But I know a few problems that will try to spoil everything. Our chance at real control, at this new world that's growing strong, and... more," The Warlock growled. "I want a task force to respond to me in a day. Have them meet me in Portland."

"Got it," Alvis said, and turned away, pulling out a cell phone hastily from his pocket.

The Warlock looked away, content with the regard to his newest ally and second-hand man, Leuthar. As he looked into the sky with a newly awakened sense of power, he grinned. Those kids had gotten themselves past semi-trained guards of the company, but not trained killers like mercenaries.

"You can't beat me now, Pines. I'll… OW," he grumbled, and rubbed his neck as the pain reached a peak, feeling like hot oil being poured down his gullet, "I need to break this stupid curse already! I'm so SICK OF IT!" he roared furiously into the sky, drawing the attention of the crowds around him.

HIATUS STATUS: OFF

We're back, ladies and gentlemen! Back for the last season: the largest, most die, most crazy, and final chapters of the Return to Gravity Falls!

First off, how was November for everyone? I feel like it ran by and now I'm here, wondering what the heck I did with those four weeks. Time, am I right? Never seems to slow down for anyone to get stuff done. Puh.

But onto business- the schedule you've all come to expect is back! Saturday evening or VERY early Sunday will be the time for updates, without exception. So stay tuned, more is coming.

Now for something I've been dreading/super-excited for since I mentioned it last update- The coming of the Audiobook. I'm going to producing and directing a translation of this series into an audio format for youtube, and I'm inviting everyone and anyone to participate! I need EVERYTHING- editors, arists/illistrators, actors- all of everything. So, if you're interested in helping out, I've got two things for you.

I have a email for this series now. Simply 'thereturntogravityfalls' at gmail blah blah blah. If you're interested in helping me out, send me an email and I'll get back to you. Next update, I'll be including a specific set of instructions to the actors who may like to play certain roles. Editors (both writing and video/audio) are welcome to send me work to sample, and same goes for artists. I need anyone who'd be interested to help out, so long as that part hasn't been taken. Now, next update I'll be a tad more specific as to what I'm looking for, so in the meantime, if you're really interested in helping out, feel free to PM me or review with what you'd like to help out with. I'll contact you with what I'd like to see in the form of an 'audition', regardless what you'd like to contribute, so you can be ready when I officially open up the gates for your content.

So, I've rambled on enough. I think it's 'high' time I took my exit. (shards of glass rain onto EZB, imbedding their sharp points all over his body.) Ha! I've built up an immunity to pain from dying all these times! It'll take more than that to-

(A hairy foot the size of a large truck squashes EZB with a loud 'pfft'.)

Ftq tgzf tme nqsgz. Oxuyn fa kagd rqqf. Iuft qmot ndqmft, bget fa ftq oayuzs pmk.