Scrooge led the group through the streets of Galinha confidently, his eyes sweeping left and right for any signs of trouble. There were quite a number of people watching them now, brown-feathered hens and roosters mostly, though Scrooge saw a number of ducks among them. Most of them were dressed in t-shirts, sports jerseys, and similar cheap, modern clothes. It felt at odds with the village's rustic aesthetic, but Scrooge supposed that these people couldn't afford much else, so he didn't let it bother him.

"So, where are we staying?" Donald grunted, walking beside Scrooge.

"Hotel Péda Montanha – the Inn at the Foot of the Mountain." Scrooge replied. "It's the cheapest place in town, and it's close to our destination. It innae often that I find a place that's both of those thin's, you know."

"Hmph!" Donald adjusted the weight of his backpack, which was clearly overpacked. "Don't suppose it occurred to you to get rooms at a more expensive place?"

"Bah! And what exactly would we get there that we couldn't get here?"

"Less eyes on us, for a start." Donald replied, glancing wearily at the village folk stepping outside their doors to stare at them.

Scrooge turned to look at his nephew with a raised eyebrow. "If you're that concerned about being robbed, perhaps you should've packed a little lighter."

"I'm carrying all the safety equipment!" Donald snapped. "And that isn't what I'm worried about! I'd just prefer to keep a low profile after what we did in Paris, and we'd attract less attention in a-"

"What we did?"

Donald glared at him. "What we did, yeah. And we'd be able to blend in at a hotel easier than we would here."

"You're worryin' too much." Scrooge replied dismissively. "We'd have to pass through this place anyway to get to the castle, and we'd attract just as much attention doin' that as we are now. If anything, we've got less eyes on us that we would at a hotel. Just relax. We'll be fine."

"Yeah, well… we thought the same thing in Mexico." Donald muttered, waddling past him.

Scrooge didn't have an answer for that.

They arrived at Hotel Péda Montanha a few minutes later. The inn was notable for the enormous boulder that sat atop the building, giving it the appearance of a giant stone mushroom. The family stepped inside, entering a warmly lit tavern with a number of rectangular wooden tables where the inn's patrons were sitting, eating and drinking. Scrooge approached the bar at the front of the establishment, behind which was a rotund hen with auburn feathers, wearing a long red dress with stripes, a white undershirt with long sleeves, and a bright smile upon her beak.

"Olá!" She greeted the family as they entered, extending a hand towards Scrooge as he entered. "You're Senhor McDuck, yes? We spoke over the phone?"

"Aye." Scrooge replied, shaking the woman's hand. "I take it you're the owner of this establishment?"

"Yes, I am!" The hen replied proudly. "My name is Calie Amélia do Galinha e Carneiro de Sapateiro Santa Sílva." She laughed melodically at their befuddled stares, leaning over the counter and saying, "But you can just call me Miss Calie."

"…Right." Scrooge replied. "Well, it's a pleasure to be stayin' here. Are our rooms ready?"

"Yes, they're just downstairs." Calie told him, pointing towards a flight of stairs towards the back of the room. She handed him four keys, explaining, "Rooms four and five are the one-person rooms, rooms eleven and thirteen are the four-person rooms. We serve breakfast from seven AM to nine, lunch from twelve to two, and dinner is served from seven to ten. Oh, and your wife arrived earlier, she-"

"My what?"

"Your wife, senhor? She said she was staying at a different hotel."

Scrooge didn't respond for a moment. He looked over at his family, most of whom weren't paying attention. Donald had gone over to the twins and seemed to be talking quietly to them, Dewey was milling about the room with a wistful look on his face, while Louie had sat down at one of the tables with his phone out. Only Webby, who was sitting next to Louie, seemed to be listening to his conversation, and was looking over at him with her head cocked.

He wasn't going to collapse this time, he knew. He'd taken his pills, perhaps a little more than he should have, and he knew he wasn't going to have the same episode he'd had in the mansion. He didn't even have a single headache on the way here. He was going to be fine.

"…She isn't your wife?" Miss Calie asked, confused.

"…Not exactly." Scrooge turned back to her, asking, "Erm, did she say where she was staying?"

"No, senhor. But she said that she'd meet you after you checked in."

"Aye, that sounds like her." Scrooge muttered. "Let me know when she arrives, will you?"

"Sim, senhor."

Scrooge walked back over to his family, a deep frown on his beak. He ushered for them to gather around, which they did quickly. Once they were close, he said quietly, "She's already here."

"Of course she is." Donald growled. "She probably watched us walk in here."

"How did she know where we were staying?" Webby asked.

"Because she knows me." Scrooge replied. He sighed. "The game's started now. We need to get ready to go as soon as possible."

"Uh, we just arrived. Can we, like, chill out for a second before dungeon delving?" May requested. "Do some sightseeing or something?"

"Goldie isn't going to let us have a second to 'chill out'!" Scrooge proclaimed. "She's already two steps ahead of us, if we sit around, that'll become ten steps!"

"Who cares? We're not doing this for her!" May countered, visibly annoyed now.

"Uncle Scrooge," Louie interjected, stopping Scrooge from replying. "That castle is probably filled with ancient traps and puzzles. Goldie's not gonna get her hands dirty disarming them herself, she's gonna wait for a bunch of schmucks like us to disarm them for her. I don't think she'll go in until we do."

"Ah, you're probably right." Scrooge conceded. "I just don't like the idea of giving her any type of advantage over us."

"Hey, she probably needs it, given how awesome we are." Dewey said casually. "Kinda surprised that she's not here to gloat, though."

"Oh, she is." Scrooge replied darkly. "Any moment now, she'll saunter through that door like she was waitin' there the whole time, and she'll say… I don't know, somethin' like, 'what took you so long', and then she'll probably make some jabs at my age and boast about how easy it was to break into my house, and then she'll make a challenge about how there's no chance that we get the idol before she does."

"Yeah, I probably would say something like that."

Scrooge yelped in alarm, jumping back from the voice that had suddenly spoken into his ear. He spun around, seeing standing behind him, dressed up in a khaki explorer's outfit, was…

Her.

She had a couple more wrinkles than he remembered, and her headfeathers were definitely starting to change from gold to grey, but there was no mistaking the confident smirk and emerald-coloured eyes of Goldie O'Gilt.

"You actually came here much sooner than I thought you would." Goldie remarked cooly. "Flattering to know that you panic so much over me."

We're still getting that scroll, Scroogie. I could use-

"Hi, Aunt Goldie!" Webby said cheerfully, waving at her from behind Scrooge.

"Ah, Webby!" Goldie cried with a grin, walking over towards the table. "It's been a long time since the Foreverglades!" She clapped her hands on Webby's shoulders, claiming, "I can barely put my arms around you!"

Webby giggled. "Aw… that's cute."

Aha! There it is! In the middle of that-

"And what about you two?" Goldie asked the boys, turning to them. "Still givin' old Scroogie a headache?"

"Not on purpose." Dewey replied.

"Doin' my best." Louie answered, smiling confidently. "I'm still waiting on the birthday money you stole from me."

"Hah!" Goldie guffawed. "Haven't lost your sense of humour, have you, Sharpie?"

Well, it's hardly my fault that-!

Goldie turned to Donald, who had put his arms around the twins protectively and was giving Goldie a narrow glare. Goldie's friendly demeanour seemed to flicker somewhat, though she regained it as she said, "Ah, Captain Clumsy. How've you been?"

"…Just fine." Donald replied carefully, his voice polite, but distinctly unfriendly.

"Yeah, you haven't changed a bit." Goldie replied dryly. She knelt down a bit to get on eye level with the twins, frowning inquisitively. "I don't think we've met, but I've heard of you two. May and June, right?"

"…Yeah." May replied warily, her eyes scanning Goldie up and down. "I'm May."

"I'm June." Her sister added uneasily, retreating into Donald. "Uh… it's nice to meet you, Miss O'Gilt."

"Ah, pleasure's all mine." Goldie replied, standing back up with a chuckle. "And hey, you can call me Aunt Goldie."

"…No, thanks." June replied uncomfortably. Beside her, May glared at the older woman with undisguised dislike, her arms crossed across her chest.

"And what about you?" Goldie asked, turning back around to face Scrooge, an eyebrow raised. "First time we've seen each other in years, and not even a word?"

Scrooge let out a held breath, knowing that he wasn't going to lose himself. He rubbed his temple, muttering, "Aye… just recoverin' from that heart attack you almost gave me."

"Aw, what's wrong?" Goldie said playfully, poking Scrooge's chest as she did. "Decrepit old Scrooge's ticker finally slowing down?"

"Decrepit?" Scrooge spluttered, outraged. He threw his hands up, crying, "We're the same age, you nickel-nicking charlatan!"

"What?" Goldie laughed. "I think your senility's setting in if that's what you think." She smirked at him and folded her arms, adding, "But, I guessed as much when I realised you forgot to change the passcode for your home's automated alarm system. The date you earned your first dime? Really, Scroogie?"

Scrooge ground his teeth in furious humiliation. It was already happening. She was already doing this. It infuriated him how easily she got under his skin, always had. He knew that it was effortless for her, he knew because she did it all the time, but he never got used to it. Part of him didn't want to.

Donald stepped forward, saying firmly, "We'll leave you two alone for a moment. Can you hand me the keys?"

"Thank you, Donald." Scrooge said through gritted teeth, passing over the keys to him.

Goldie barely glanced at the rest of the family as they walked away, her gaze fixed on Scrooge. Once the others were gone, she remarked, "So… it's been a while."

"That it has." Scrooge agreed. Far too long, he thought, yet somehow not long enough.

"You know, I passed by this quaint little café while I was wandering about town." Goldie remarked, gesturing back outside. "You hungry?"

He gave her a rueful smile. "Famished."

Huey cautiously stepped up to the receptionist desk, behind which was a middle-aged pig in a green desk, a pair glasses resting on her snout as she typed away at a computer. He swallowed and approached.

"Hello, Mr. Duck." The receptionist drawled without looking at him. "It's been a while."

"Uh, I suppose so, yeah." Huey replied awkwardly, realising that he didn't remember the receptionist's name. "Uh, I think I was called up here for something?"

"Yeah. Principal Shepard wants to see you in his office."

Huey felt his throat tighten. "The… principal's office?"

"That's what I said." The receptionist said drily.

"Why didn't the announcement say that?"

"Shepard said something about 'not making a fuss'. Now get goin'."

Huey hesitated, wanting to ask more questions, but he doubted the receptionist would have the answers. He left for the principal's office, even more nervous than before.

A few minutes later, he was standing before the door to Shepard's office, the bronze plaque on the door feeling more foreboding that it had any right to. Huey gulped, then knocked on the door.

"Come in." A gruff voice spoke from the other side.

Cautiously, Huey opened the door and stepped in.

The principal's office was like any other school office – small, cramped and plastered with cracking wall paint. A dark wooden desk occupied most of the room's floor space, on which was a computer and a desk tray full of letters and documents. Two filing cabinets were positioned beside the desk, and above it, hanging on the wall, were two framed college diplomas. Behind the desk was a black desk chair, and sitting in it was a large-framed, middle-aged hound with brown fur, a navy suit and a tie. A faded pink scar was on the tip of his snout, and grey fur coated his muzzle.

Before the desk were two chairs, sitting in one of which was a duck Huey had never seen before. He was dressed in a similarly coloured blue jacket and a green tie, his headfeathers swept back and a confident smile on his beak as he flipped a coin up and down in the air absentmindedly.

"Ah, Hubert." Principal Shepard greeted him, gesturing to the empty chair before the desk. "Take a seat, please."

"Yes, sir." Huey replied, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He slowly walked forward, trying to hide his nervousness.

He must have done a bad job of it, because Shepard reassured him, "It's alright, you're not in trouble." He gestured to the other duck, his brow furrowing slightly as he did. "This is Special Agent Nickel, he just needs your help in an investigation he's conducting."

"Special-" Huey doubled blinked in alarm. "What?"

Nickel turned around in his chair, grinning broadly at Huey. "Top of the morning, lad." He said, extending his hand out. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard a lot about you and your family."

"Wh- what is this about?" Huey demanded, immediately feeling defensive. "Special Agent of what?"

"It's alright, lad. Like your principal said, you're not in trouble. I'm just here to ask you a few questions, that's all."

Huey looked towards Principal Shepard, whose eyes betrayed the same distrust that Huey was feeling. "…What kind of questions?" He asked.

"Why don't you sit down, and we can get started?"

"Agent Nickel has given me his assurance that his questions won't be invasive or inappropriate." Shepard told him. "But if you feel uncomfortable answering anything, you can say so." He gave Nickel a critical look, adding, "And if he overstays his welcome, he has promised to leave when I ask him to."

"That I have." Nickel confirmed, snapping his fingers at him.

Hesitantly, Huey sat down in the chair, putting his bag down beside him. "…Shouldn't I have a guardian present for this?" He asked.

Shepard cocked his head. "Mr. Nickel told me that he sent a letter to your uncle."

Huey frowned. "I… don't think we received anything about this."

"Really?" Shepard turned to give Nickel a scrutinous look. "How interesting."

"Mm… well, it must've gotten lost in your uncle's mail." Nickel said casually, pulling out a notebook from his jacket. "The amount of letters he must get, I'm sure he just missed it."

"Well, then it's a good thing that I sent a message to Miss Duck about this meeting, then." Shepard told him bluntly. "I'm sure she'll be here any minute."

"…Huh." Nickel replied slowly, his smile flickering for a moment. "Well, either way, this isn't a formal interrogation, so it isn't legally required for a guardian to be present, so we can just start now and fill her in when she arrives."

"I'd prefer to wait for my mom." Huey rebutted.

"Come now, I'm only asking for five minutes, then I'll be out of your feathers." Nickel told him emphatically. "And the quicker we can get through these, the happier we'll be."

"…Alright." Huey murmured, uncomfortably.

"Wonderful, wonderful…" Nickel flipped through his notebook. "Now, let's see… I understand that you and your uncle recently took a trip to Paris, correct?"

So that's what this was about. Huey swallowed, then replied evasively, "Yes… My uncle was on a business trip, and he took us along with him. It's… a pretty normal thing that we do."

"Business trip. Right." Nickel chuckled, jotting something down. "And you were in the city during the terrorist attack in the catacombs?"

"…Uh… yeah."

"Must've been frightening for you and your family."

"We've been through worse."

"That you have…" Nickel agreed. He leant forward. "Now, everyone in town knows what your uncle does, so, be honest. Was the attack in any way related to this 'business trip'?"

Huey looked over to the principal nervously. "I-I don't know if I can-"

"That's fine!" Nickel said quickly, leaning back in his chair. "We can skip that one, come back to it maybe, or maybe not. Your choice." He marked off something on his notepad, moving to the next question. "Now… before the attack, I understand that your uncle had attended some kind of private auction, hosted by one…" He frowned at his notes, then said, "Victor… Carbon-new? Am I pronouncing that right?"

"Uh…" Huey stuttered. "An… auction?"

"The guest list had your uncle's name on it." Nickel explained. "And some of the guests there remarked that he had brought some of you along with him."

"I mean… maybe? We kinda went to a few business conventions while we were there." Huey lied, scratching the back of his head. "And they were all pretty similar, so…"

"Was your uncle looking for anything specific at that auction?"

"I- why are you asking me questions about my uncle?" Huey demanded. "Shouldn't you be asking him?"

"Does he not want you to tell me what he was looking for?" Nickel asked calmly.

"Mr. Nickel." Principal Shepard interjected, giving the agent a cold glare. "Non-invasive questions, remember?"

"Right, right." Nickel sighed. "Let's move onto a different topic." He flipped to a different page of his notebook and tore it out. He handed it over to Huey, asking, "Could you look through this list of names for me and tell me if you recognise any of them?"

Cautiously, Huey took the note from Nickel's outstretched hand and began to read it.

Nightmare Catcher

Time Teaser

Lich's Eye

The Silverfable Unicorn

Talisman of Merlock

There were a number of other names on the list, and Huey recognised every single one of them. He'd heard Webby talk about them before during a spontaneous McDuck adventure presentations she used to throw back in the day.

All of these were artifacts that Scrooge kept in the Other Bin.

"You know what these are?" Nickel asked him.

"…No." Huey replied evasively.

"See…" Nickel stroked his chin slyly as he talked. "Your words are saying one thing, but your body language says something else."

"Agent Nickel, please." Principal Shepard interjected again, angrily this time. "I don't like the way you're addressing-"

"It's alright, sir." Huey murmured, still looking down at the list.

Nickel let him read through the list in silence, rolling his coin between his fingers as he did. Once Huey had read through the whole thing, he lowered the note and asked, without looking at Nickel, "…Who are you an agent for, again?"

Nickel let the coin fall into the palm of his hand. "I'm a federal agent, Huey. I work for the FBI."

"…I see."

"If I can be a bit bold for a moment, I'd like to tell you what I believe." Nickel said, leaning forward. "I believe that you know recognise the names on that list, or at least one or two of them. I think that even if you don't know what they are, you at least know where to find them. Is that an accurate guess?"

Huey didn't say anything.

"Can I ask you a personal question, lad?" Nickel asked.

"…Sure."

"Your uncle… would you say that he's a good man?"

"Yes."

"And you feel safe when he drags you along on his… 'business trips'? Risking not just his life, but yours for… what, trinkets and pretty baubles? Seems like odd behaviour for a guardian."

Huey didn't answer him. Nickel took that as an answer, leaning forward and saying, "Perhaps it's not my place to say, but… it doesn't seem healthy to me, to cover for a man who deliberately puts you in harms way, all for things that are so… trivial."

Huey didn't say anything at first, looking down at the note in his hands. Then, he asked slowly, "You… think that my uncle has done something wrong?"

Nickel nodded solemnly. "I think he has, lad. And I think you're the key to helping me right that wrong."

"…And you think I'm… 'covering' for him?"

Nickel winced. "Well… I wouldn't really put it like-"

"No, that's what you just said." Huey interrupted him, turning around to face him with cold anger. "You just said that you think I'm 'covering' for him."

Nickel blinked, then began to backtrack. "Ah, well, I- I think I misspoke, I was-"

"No, you didn't. You implied that I'm helping my uncle commit a crime. Which makes this an interrogation." Huey explained, not giving Nickel any room to breathe. "Look, I don't know much about law, but I'm pretty sure that you can't just walk into a high school and start accusing people of crimes."

"I wasn't-"

"Yes, you were, and most interrogations I've seen on TV have a lawyer present, and they take place in a police station room specifically designed for interrogations! And I'm only seventeen, which means that I'm a juvenile, so I think I actually do need a guardian present!"

"Hold on-"

"No, I won't, because I'm done!" Huey snapped, starting to stand up. "If you actually thought my uncle had done something wrong, then you wouldn't be talking to me. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got Maths class in two minutes!"

"No, hold on!" Nickel snapped back, standing up as well. "I know that you recognise those names, boyo! I know that for a fact!"

"That's enough, Mr. Nickel." Principal Shepard said with authority, preventing the argument from continuing. "You've agreed to only ask questions that Huey felt comfortable answering. Huey, do you feel comfortable answering Agent Nickel's questions?"

"No, sir, I don't." Huey replied shakily, still glaring at Nickel.

"Then that's that." Shepard turned back to Nickel, glowering at the federal agent. "Now, I believe you said that you'd leave if and when I asked you to?"

"Okay, listen here-" Nickel started to argue.

"I would like you to leave now." Shepard told him coldly.

"I'm a federal agent, you glorified babysitter!" Nickel snarled angrily. "I'm conducting an investigation into a federal crime, I'm not here for the hell of it!"

"My uncle's never committed a crime in his life!" Huey argued defensively. "What are you talking about?"

Ignoring him, Nickel continued, jabbing his finger at the principal as he did. "I will leave when this kid starts giving me answers and when I am satisfied with those answers! That's the way this works, you got me?"

A ding sound from the principal's computer interrupted his reply. Shepard looked over at the screen, reading something, then turned back to Nickel to say impassively, "Very well. You'll have to do that with his mother present, however. I've just been informed that she's arrived."

Nickel stared silently at the principal for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"…I'm sorry, what?" Nickel asked blankly.

With the crack of steel against wood, the door into the office flew open, causing both Huey and Nickel to jump and spin around at the person who'd just kicked it down.

"Alright!" Della roared, leaping into the room enraged. "Who's the soon-to-be dead man who's harassing my son?"

"This guy." Huey immediately replied, pointing over at Nickel.

"This guy?" Della marched up to the agent, demanding, "Who the hell are you? What the hell is this?"

"Mom, language." Huey said exasperatedly.

"Uh… miss." Nickel greeted the fuming mother duck, trying to regain his composure. "I'm Agent Nickel, I was just-"

"Agent Nickel?" Della shouted. "What do you mean, Agent Nickel?"

"He's a federal agent." Huey explained before Nickel got the chance. "He was interrogating me, trying-"

"He was what?" Della got right up into Nickel's face, snarling, "Oooooh, you are so lucky my son doesn't like it when I swear."

"It wasn't really like that." Nickel claimed desperately. "I was just-"

"I don't care what you were doing, you don't just waltz into a school and start interrogating a seventeen-year-old kid! I have half a mind to call up your office and- Actually, in fact, I will! Who are you working for, huh?"

"The FBI." Huey answered, again before Nickel could say anything.

"The FBI, huh? Well, 'Agent Nickel', you can be sure that I'll be asking your boss what the FBI thinks it's doing harassing high school kids instead of… whatever it is that you guys normally do! Come on, Huey, let's go home."

"We- wait, hold on-" Nickel started to say.

"What? But mom, I have class!" Huey protested.

"You can do it online!" Della replied, grabbing Huey around the shoulders and leading him out the office with her.

"Listen, lady, I'm conducting an investigation-!"

"Yeah?" Della growled over her shoulder towards Nickel. "Then go file a report."

With that, Della slammed the office door shut, leaving Nickel with his hand outstretched, his beak half-open, trying to form words but none coming to mind.

"…Well. I believe that settles that." Shepard said after a while, seemingly satisfied. "Now, can you leave, Mr. Nickel?"

Nickel lowered his hand, still starting at the spot where the ducks had been. Part of him realised he'd dropped his coin during the confusion.

"…Fine." He muttered reluctantly, starting to walk towards the door, picking up his coin from the ground as he did.

"You, uh… don't like Goldie, huh?" Dewey asked concernedly as Donald led the kids down the stairs.

"That woman is one of the least trustworthy people I know." Donald grumbled in reply, struggling down the stairs with his overpacked backpack. "I don't know what Scrooge sees in her."

"A fellow adventurous spirit?" Webby suggested.

"I'm not sure if I like her either." June admitted timidly. "She seems really… manipulative."

"That's kinda her thing, yeah." Louie replied casually. "She's come through for us when it counts, though. Saved my life a couple of times."

"I just don't like how she's dominated this whole outing." May complained. "This was supposed to be a fun adventure for us, and now suddenly it's all about her."

"It's always been like that." Donald told her. "The moment she comes onto the scene, it's like Scrooge forgets all about- WAGH!"

The kids leapt out of the way as Donald lost his balance and tumbled down the stairs with a cacophonous crash, landing at the bottom of the flight on his backpack.

"Look, you only just met her." Webby told the twins as they all helped Donald back to his feet. "Let's not get judgemental before you get to know her, okay?"

"We'll give her a chance, sure." May replied. With a dark expression, she added, "But we can't help it if she reminds us of the type of people we used to work for."

"Okay… that…" Webby murmured uncertainly as they hauled Donald to his door. "…That's a little harsh."

Once Donald had stumbled his way into his room and dumped the absurdly heavy bag onto the floor, he firmly reminded them of hotel etiquette – be in bed by nine, no disturbing the guests, and no breaking anything. Only when they had agreed twice did he let them off the hook, leaving them to their own devices.

"I think I prefer travelling with mom." Dewey commented as they made their way to their rooms. "I feel like Uncle Donald goes a bit too hard on the 'rules' thing."

"You mean he actually has rules." Louie replied flatly.

"Yeah, exactly." Dewey stopped before the rooms labelled '11 and '13', frowning. "Uh, so who's sleeping where?"

"I'm cool with whatever."

"May, June and I can take room thirteen, if that's okay." Webby said, walking up to them. She smiled, adding, "I like the number thirteen. It represented femininity in the old Norse cult of Freya."

"…Cool!" Dewey said brightly. "So, Louie and I can take eleven. That sound cool to you two?" He asked, turning to face the twins.

May shrugged. "Sure."

June didn't respond. She was just staring down at her feet, quiet and pensive.

"…Uh… June?" Dewey prodded her gently.

June looked up at the rest of them, fear written across her face as she asked, "…Are you guys scared of me because of what I did in Paris?"

Dewey took a step back, taken aback. "Uh…"

"I just- It's just that Huey is, he said so before we left," June started to stammer out. "And I don't- I don't want you guys to- to be…"

She trailed off. May immediately moved to comfort her, putting an arm around her shoulders and murmuring something in her ear.

Neither Dewey nor Louie responded. Dewey seemed conflicted, while Louie's expression was as unreadable as ever. Webby frowned, and stepped forward, asking, "I wasn't there… how did it happen when you…?"

June shook her head, tears brimming at the corner of her eyes. "I- I don't know. I just… felt angry, and I…"

"It kinda came out of nowhere." Dewey added. "It was like she was a completely different person for a moment, we… don't really know where it came from."

"I do." May declared angrily, prompting everyone to look up at her. "F.O.W.L. trained us to be killers, mindless toy soldiers for their stupid war against Scrooge. When those mercenaries got the upper hand on us, all that… fuckin' brainwashing they did on us took over her. Whoever tried to kill that merc wasn't my sister – that was pure Heron." May spat out the last word with venom.

"Yeah, May's right. It wasn't you." Dewey agreed emphatically.

"You're not afraid either?" June asked him hopefully.

"Of you? No." Dewey shook his head, giving her a reassuring smile.

June looked over towards Louie. He didn't meet her eyes, looking down at the ground at first, but then he forced himself to meet her gaze. He exhaled deeply, then told her, "…I'm not in a position to judge you. We all know that I've done worse."

A sombre silence fell over the group. Louie broke it after a moment, adding, "You're alright in my book."

"And I'm not scared of you either." Webby chimed in, walking forward and putting a hand on June's shoulder. "You're my sister – our family. Family's never scared of each other."

June looked up at Webby, a grateful smile on her beak. "…Thank you." She whispered.

Webby pulled her into an embrace, with May joining in. "Don't mention it." She told her.