It was cold in Rexebris's castle, just as cold as the castle floor during the winters of the Darklands. Morton shuddered to think how cold it would be when winter came around in this place. Rexebris sat on his rather decorated throne. It had a gold rim and it was adorned with red jewels.

"Why am I here, creep?" Morton asked angrily.

"Well," Rexebris said, examining his long claws, "I'm not going to be here forever. I've seen you fight, and not only will you be a valuable asset to the Dark March's battle squadron, you'll be an excellent king when I'm gone." He sat up. "What I'm saying is that you'll be the prince of my wonderful army."

"Why would I ever help lead this dumb army?" Morton yelled. "I'll never help fight for you, or be king when you die!"

Rexebris was shocked by this, and asked, "What would compel such a nice little boy like you to such nasty things?"

"For one, you kidnapped me like my dad kidnaps Peach!"

"I had to get you one way or another." Rexebris replied, clearly disgusted. "Might you be refusing to help because you consider yourself weak?" He asked.

"Not even in a million years." Morton snarled back.

"I think you're just denying the truth. You may not be the best fighter around, but I can certainly make you one." Rexebris growled. A smirk was plastered on his face.

The more Rexebris said, the more wound up Morton got. He just couldn't stand this guy.

"Well...?" Rexebris asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No. I'm not going to fight for you, I'm not going to rule after you. I'm NOT going to help you in any way." Morton growled. "Take me back home."

"Take you back home?!" Rexebris exclaimed. "Well I never! I thought you'd be right at home here!"

"Far from it."

"Look, I know you miss your father, but you're in good claws here. Better claws."

"I'd like to see you live up to that, big shot."

Rexebris growled something under his breath with a big scowl on his face. Morton tapped his foot while he waited for him to say something. Time seemed to drag as Rexebris thought, and after what seemed like the longest minute in existence, he came to a conclusion.

"You will stay here with me whether you like it or not. You will start your training tomorrow."

He called over a Koopa Troopa and said, "He will show you to your room. Now go."

The Koopa Troopa looked at him with a threatening look, and Morton figured he had no choice but to go to his bedroom. He shuffled behind the Koopa Troopa as he led him to his new bedroom. He would stay there, but only for a little.

Tonight, he was going to break out.

Red sat near the Red Star and looked down on the playing Lumas. He was still unsure why the same energy from those thousands of years ago had come back. Maybe it was a false alarm? Probably not. There was no way that it was just him.

"It was probably just "the monster" again. Stop being so ridiculous, Red." He told himself.

Suddenly, another tickling sensation started up in his belly.

Again?! He thought, but he soon realised that this one was different. It was certainly related to the evil energy from long ago, but this one was opposing it. Rebeling. As the tickling became a boil, he clutched the Red Star. The boil escalated into a roaring fire, and Red knew that this one was a biggie. He started glowing bright red, and as expected, he was soon glowing immensely. That's when two horns started sprouting out of his head.

It was getting quite late now, and Morton was still lying in his bed, waiting for the right time. It had to be around about 10:30 by now, so why in Bonechill's prison wasn't that excuse for a king in his bed? An shrill scream of what sounded like a dragon broke his train of thought. This guy kept dragons under his place?! A wave of red energy rushed through the night sky, leaving a visible trail behind it. The stars shone bright red for a second, before returning to normal. Somehow, Morton knew it was time to put his plan into action. He squirmed out of his shell and placed it under the covers, then put some pillows underneath. He felt rather uncomfortable going outside naked, but he had to do it if he was going to get away from Rexebris. He opened the window and squeezed through the gap. He clung onto the windowsill outside as he closed the window as best as he could, then dropped down to the ground. He might of disturbed some troops some the shock he sent when he landed, but he couldn't care less. He ran as fast as he could away from the castle. Only Grambi knew where he was headed, but Morton was hoping it was somewhere safe.

Somewhere where Rexebris would never find him.