(A/N: Trying to update before the last Soul Eater chapter comes out. *sobs*)

I own nothing. Otherwise I wouldn't be rushing to post this chapter. Or the chapter after that. And…well, you get the idea.

He groaned wearily as he opened his eyes. The first sight to greet his eyes was the look on Asura's face, as if he were backing away from something or someone. His vision cleared a little, and then he could see that the Kishin was indeed cornered.

And by who else but the Guardians and Lord Death.

(Or what was left of the Guardians.)

"There's nowhere to hide now, Kishin Asura," Jack Frost said, looking as threatening as the winter spirit could ever be, black and blue sparks emitting from his staff. As he was talking, snow had started to fall.

"No," Asura muttered, "no, this wasn't supposed to happen!" His scarves twitched, waiting for an opportunity to strike, but he was just too scared to make any kind of move.

"Granted, much of what happened this night was never supposed to happen," North said, glancing at the fallen body of Nightlight, then at the crack in the earth where a weakened Pitch must have fallen through – they could tell by the Snow Goose honking worriedly at the mark in the ground. He turned back to the frightened Demon God. "But there was never a possible outcome where you would have won this battle."

"Stay away," Asura said at the now-looming Guardians; even the tiny Sandman looked equally dangerous. "Stay away from me! Go away!"

"You will atone for your crimes against the order of this world," Lord Death said as he clutched one of the Kishin's scarves, pulling him closer. One of the claw-like hands gripped a piece of Asura's skin.

A sickening rip and a thunderous scream rang throughout the night, and even more blood flowed both on the ground and in the Moon's mouth. None of the Guardians turned away, and Lord Death did not even flinch until Asura's blood was fully drained and he was thrown in a sack of his own skin.

Then the Guardians turned to look at their leader lying on the ground, watching them with blue eyes that looked like an ocean, one that you could drown in if you weren't careful enough.

"I have taught you well, my children," he muttered, and fell asleep to the laugh of the Moon above him.

After Asura was trapped in an underground chamber and MiM was detained on the Moon, there was tentative peace, if only for the moment. The world was indeed shocked at the sudden change of appearance of their natural satellite, so much that many have questioned if the world they knew was ending.

But it wasn't the end yet – that Lord Death knew for sure.

Either way, it wouldn't change the condition of the Guardians, because all over the world, children were losing their belief.

Very few teeth were being collected because of the amount of mini-fairies that had perished in the battle, and the others that were miraculously alive could not fly anymore, and neither could Toothiana.

No matter how hard he tried, Sanderson found that his dreams could not console children, no matter how sweet. Nightmares roamed free, without fear of the weakening Sandman or their former master the Bogeyman, who was in a cave far unknown to mankind and impaled with the diamond dagger, the crystal blade immobilizing him for a very, very long time.

Nicholas and Aster struggled with their creations of hope and wonder. Actually, it was more of North struggling to make toys. Bunnymund couldn't do anything to help in his shrunken form. There were just not enough helpers to held North with toys for Christmastime – if the Guardians did survive to see Christmas.

They all mourned the loss of Mother Goose and Nightlight. Such brave, fearless souls who had fought their hardest against Pitch and Asura and all the darkness. They were remembered with reverence as the Guardians that they were, fierce and true.

It was unknown what had happened to Tsar Lunar after he was permanently bound to the Moon. He had not truly renounced his Guardian vows – therefore maybe he was suffering just like the rest of them, or maybe he had renounced his vow and probably was untouched by the unbelief of children.

And as for Jackson?

His powers had gotten out of control, creating an eternal winter over the Earth. The Fearling poison inside of him tore at his soul, forcing him to create blizzards and avalanches. Sometimes it would take over him and have him attack the Guardians, who were weak, almost to the point where they couldn't fight back anymore. It would make Baby Tooth prod and peck at the winter spirit, trying to snap him out of it, and for Sandy to conjure dreamsand and knock him out so that he wouldn't cause any more damage. They could tell, by the look on his sleeping face, that Jack was suffering.

They knew because they, too, were suffering.

But why were they not put out of their misery already?

Because of the last lights, shining brightly on the crumbled Globe of Belief, stubbornly refusing to go out.

Jamie and Sophie Bennett.

Mother Nature stared out at the desolate white before her. Not a sign of life in sight. The Wind whipped about, terribly upset, and Mother Nature understood.

The Guardians had not lost, but they did not win, either.

Would it be more merciful for them if the Bennetts just stopped believing, she wondered?

She lay down in the snow, staring up at the sky, listening to the Wind cry. Normally, with an average human being, they would develop hypothermia and eventually freeze to death out there. But she was Mother Nature – she and the Earth were one, and whatever happened to the world happened to her. And right now, she was feeling cold.

The Wind was not the only one that was grieving.

She remembered the Woman in the Sun's reaction when she heard the news. She wept and wept, unconsolable in her grief that they had failed – and that her Protectors were next.

Mother Nature could not help but feel warm tears sliding down her cheeks as she thought of Pitch. Or rather, Kozmotis Pitchiner, the man who had once been the greatest hero of the Golden Age. Who had once been her father.

She remembers watching her Daddy leave that day, not knowing when he would come back home with the silver locket* around his neck – the one that she gave him, the one that he promised never to lose.

Her hands closed around the silver locket, now in her possession, and she broke down, wailing loudly, bringing frozen rain down on Earth; wishing with tears for her Daddy to come back.

(Looking back now, that last sentence struck a nerve. If you read Chapter 112, then you'd probably understand.)

* - The locket is silver. Silver. Not gold. It says so in Bunny's book, if you look hard enough.