When his vision came to, Emmet found that it was very blurry; all he saw that was different was the odd blurred light slowly passing by him. If he had to take a guess, he'd say they were lights.

But he couldn't be sure.

He groaned a little, feeling his back dragging along a hard surface, most likely metal, while his feet were lifted up above the ground; they seemed the part of his body that was being held by his captives, and dragging him to wherever they were heading.

"Oh, lookie here; ol' Brickowski is away," came a voice from in front of him.

Emmet tried to lift his head to see who was speaking, but found that he couldn't feel any of his muscles; he couldn't move any of his limbs. He found that his memory was just as fuzzy as his sight; he barely remembered anything that recently happened.

The last thing he remembered was getting consumed by a green smoke, and several shadowy figures approaching him and Wyldstyle.

Wait…Wyldstyle!

"Lucy…" he whispered softly, his voice straining to be louder; but to no avail, it retained the same whisper-sound tone throughout.

A dark chuckle came from the same direction as the previous voice, and was added with, "Aw…Missin' your missus, eh? Well, you'll be seein' 'er in a bit."

With that, Emmet felt the movement stopping, and they weren't dragging him anymore. He was roughly brought back onto his feet; and even then, he couldn't bring himself to stand on his own two feet.

That might be to do with what was in that gas that had knocked him out, or it might have been the black armoured and clothed guard on either side of him, holding his arms firmly in place.

The third figure that was with them, which must have been the one that had been talking, was standing in front of Emmet's groggy sight; his vision gradually getting better, giving him a good look at who this was figure was.

He wore a white top, with a loose black trench coat and long black hair that partly covered his face. Through the hair, Emmet could barely see them, but his eyes were a bright red.

"W…Who are…are you?" asked Emmet weakly, his head fighting to keep upright and looking at the figure in front of him.

Grim chuckled a little, suddenly grabbing Emmet's chin, forcing him to look at him in the eye; a sinister and sadistic smirk plastered onto his features.

He chuckled a little, before he said, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Pulling his hand back from Emmet, and after wiping his hand on his trench coat, ordered the figures, "Put him in with the others."

The two men on either side of Emmet escorted him forward a few paces, Emmet starting to get the feeling back in his legs and tried to keep himself from moving. But he wasn't strong enough to fight against it.

They approached a dimly lit metal door, which slowly opened after two other figures like the ones on either side of Emmet.

The next thing Emmet knew, he had been thrown into the room, hitting the wall on the opposite side of the door; he groaned in pain as he rubbed his head a little. He looked up again, just in time to see the door being slammed shut by the figures.

"You're in for a treat later," taunted Grim through the eye slot in the metal door, chuckling darkly and sinisterly before he pulled back from the door. At the same time, the eye slot slid shut.

"Emmet?"

The named figure slowly looked around to see who had said his name in the room; which he quickly discovered it was a cell, considering that the walls appeared to be made out of metal bricks. He looked to the side, and flicked back a bit, still a little disoriented, though quickly found that it was Wyldstyle.

She looked rather alright, all things considered; she seemed to have recovered from the loss of her Master Building ability, and other than that, she didn't seem any worse for wear.

Emmet slowly pushed himself to his feet again, swaying a bit when he stood up; he wasn't as well recovered from the effects of the gas as he thought. Though Wyldstyle quickly got over to Emmet to help him; and as it turned on, they weren't the only two in the area.

Laval had been in the room as well, silent until he had moved, to Emmet's other side to support that side while Wyldstyle helped Emmet at the other side.

"T…Thanks," said Emmet softly, looking at both Wyldstyle and Laval with a grateful look in his eye.

Laval nodded a little, while Wyldstyle smiled a little as they both helped Emmet to sitting down on plate of metal that acted as a bed.

"W…What…what happened?" asked Emmet, looking between the two. "What happened to…to the others? To…To Darsin?"

Laval and Wyldstyle looked between themselves, before they both looked over at Emmet.

"John's been taken to another cell in this place; we don't know where. And Darsin…last we saw him, they were throwing hooks at him, dragging him somewhere," said Laval slowly, adding, "That gas was some strong stuff; I barely remember anything after we crashed."

Emmet looked down at his hands for a few seconds, letting what they said sink in; John was being held somewhere in…wherever they were being held, and Darsin was in the same situation as John, expect they knew even less about where the giant Dragon was being held.

Though perhaps it would have been much easier to find Darsin, consider…well, he was a Giant Dragon after all, so he couldn't have been that hard to find.

That was, if they were to ever get themselves out of this place.

"So, how do you two think we're going to get out of this place?" asked Laval, walking around the perimeter of the cell, pausing in front of the door and tapping it slightly; as though he was trying to find some kind of weakness in the structure.

"Well, if we had our Master Builder powers…we'd be out of here in no time at all. But now…..no idea," said Emmet slowly, glancing at Wyldstyle when he spoke; thinking that the female Master Builder was still a little sensitive about the subject.

Wyldstyle did react a little at Emmet's words, by glancing aside when her boyfriend mentioned this bad thing, but other than that, didn't really do much.

"Well, just because you haven't got your powers anymore, doesn't mean that we can't find a way out of here; I mean, look at me," said Laval, gesturing to himself when he added the last part.

Emmet looked Laval up and down a few times, before asking, "What do you mean?"

"I've never been a Master Builder, and I've gotten this far. And my life hasn't exactly been closed up in a castle; no, I've been in many a battle, and granted, I may have needed my friends sometimes to get me out of those situations…I've never needed Master Builder powers," explained Laval, leaning against the cell wall as he explained himself to Emmet and Wyldstyle.

The two looked at one another when Laval had finished; it had suddenly dawned on them that, in all their time that they had known the King of the Lion, they hadn't really gotten to know what Laval was really like in his own Realm.

Emmet made a mental note to sit down with Laval, when this was all over, and get to know him better. That was what a friend should do, right?

However, their thoughts were all interrupted when a low, humming sound starting to fill the cell. The three looked around, hoping to find the source.

"Uh…guys? Please don't tell me I'm the only one that can hear that?" asked Emmet, tapping the side of his head as he looked around.

Laval opened his mouth to answer, when, suddenly, a ball of light blue light appeared in the centre of the room; Laval let out a startled sound as he jumped across the room, landing on the bed and hiding behind Emmet and Wyldstyle out of initial shock.

The blue stud of bright light steadily grew bigger and bigger, the light growing brighter and brighter to the point where the three of them had to cover their eyes in order to keep their sight.

Blue lightning sparked out from the centre of the orb, striking the walls of the cell a few times. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, a small shock wave blasted out from the source; the door groaned a bit under the pressure, but didn't give way just yet.

The three figures were blown back against the back of the bed, blown away from the force of the shockwave. When they managed to get back to sitting up again, they were rather shocked by what they saw standing in front of them.

Standing in the middle of the cell, with a small dent in the floor of the cell from, most likely, the shockwave, was a Griffin; he appeared as a normal figure, expect he had an eagle-like head, with a dark yellow beak; which had a large, jagged scar going across the top of it. The head was covered in brown feathers, with a few black feathers noticeable.

A pair of brown eagle wings extended out of the back of the figure, slowly folding against its back. The torso of the figure was a mix; the top half was brown feathers, like the head, while the bottom half of the torso started to blend brown feathers into golden fur; there were a few defiant scars stretching across both sections.

A brown loin cloth was the only clothing he appeared to be wearing, with a few bits of dark, and faded, silver armour acting as shoulder pads. In its right hand, there was a silver dagger in hand; with a light blue crystal connected to the dagger's handle.

"Perhaps I can be of assistance," said the Griffin slowly; his voice revealing age to his tone.