The globe glitched and flickered, the swathes of gold painted across its surface sputtering in a desperate struggle to stay illuminated. Some individual glints held on for several seconds, pulsing and struggling like the wings of dying butterflies, while others flared only briefly before collapsing into darkness. The sight of such rapid diminishment caused a physical sickness in Jack's stomach—he didn't need to be a Guardian to feel the sense of raw, utter defeat that came with the failing lights. The very concept of losing a believer—of having a formerly faithful devotee, a child to which you were the whole world—cease thinking that you existed was enough to form a physical weight in Jack's chest, pumping heavily as iron through his veins.
"What does it mean?" he asked softly, stepping forwards and taking in the sight of the infinitesimally rotating sphere, painted as it was with the last echoes of dying hope. Tooth, beside him, let out a muted gasp as a particularly massive cluster of lights winked into nonexistence. He felt her shiver, long feathers stirring the air between them.
"It can't be Pitch," Bunny growled, his ears practically flat with distress. "Not so much, so suddenly... it's impossible."
"Not Pitch alone," North agreed, but there was an aspect to his tone that was dark, chilling, and Jack realized that he was doing more than merely support the Pooka's words. "But with help..."
"Help?" Jack repeated, his voice barely above a breath. He felt tension seep through the air as Tooth stiffened beside him, and Bunny's emerald-green eyes darkened, his whiskers flickering in an almost invisible twitch as his powerful shoulders shuddered and lowered. Sickness stirred in Jack's stomach. "You don't mean..."
"...Sandy," Tooth finished. Her voice was delicate, as if it lingering on the verge of tears. "There's no other way."
"But... how? You mean he's controlling him?"
"Or somethin' like it," Bunny confirmed grimly, arms folded over his shaggy chest. "Those nightmares could have done anything to him. It's been ages since Pitch had real power... he's probably come up with all sorts of new tricks." The last word was spit out spitefully, dripping with resentment.
Jack swallowed, but didn't dawdle. The path ahead was clear. Saving Sandy might have seemed a huge task on its own, but now they had no option. If the children of the world were in danger from Pitch's new weapon, then the Guardians had no choice. They had to save the kids. It was their job. And if the only way to do that was to rescue Sandy, to do whatever was needed to turn him golden and cheery again... then they had no choice on that matter, either.
The thought, despite the horror of the darkening lights, was a reassurance, and Jack allowed himself to drift just a few centimeters into the air, his toes brushing the ground as he adjusted his grip on his staff, hefting it hight. "What are we waiting for, then?" he asked eagerly, spinning to face the other three. Their eyes—violet, fern, and crystal—gazed back, wide and rapt. "He needs us!"
His words, simple as they were, seemed to stir something under the fur, feathers, and coat of the three Guardians. A tiny smirk tugged at the edge of Bunny's mouth, Tooth straightened her chin, and North nodded powerfully, one hand darting under his heavy red overcoat to withdraw one of is thin sabers. It snapped and glistened in the fading golden light, dark with power and potential.
"Jack is right!" North declared, turning to the other two. "We will save Sandy. There is no time to waste!"
"It looks like they're around here," Tooth observed, her gossamer wings lifting her up the wide curve of the globe. Her thin fingers extended, pressing against the rough-hewn shape of North America's west coast. The groups of lights located there, where green-painted land met blue-stained sea, were those currently suffering the most, flashing and fluttering with light and darkness in a massive storm of energy.
"Good, then that is where we will go," North decided. "To the sleigh!"
"Sleigh?" Bunnymund repeated, his eyes narrowing. "We don't have the time for that, mate. Sandy is out there doing who knows what to kids, and he's not going to wait for your reindeer."
Before any of them could respond, his heavy foot thudded powerfully against the cold floor of the workshop, and a second later the ground fell away entirely, collapsing into a dark tunnel that almost immediately wove away to nothingness. Jack barely had the time to be startled before the gap was under his feet, as well, and then he was flipping practically head-over-heels as the musty underground air rushed past him. A yelp was caught in his throat, and the last thing he saw was Tooth's slim, colorful form darting in as well before the earth closed over the top entirely.
For a few seconds, Jack was entirely blinded, what with the clumps of dirt and roots around the edges of the tunnel falling into his eyes and mouth. His limbs were battered by the rough sides of the passageway, and it was all he could do to keep his fingers cinched tight around his staff, holding on for his life before they were finally spit out of the narrow hole, tumbling heavily onto the ground.
Jack winced, his head spinning, but wasted no time in springing to his feet. Despite its painful qualities, Bunny's mode of transportation was certainly exhilarating—in any case, it had upped his heart rate, and he was now filled with adrenaline that caused him to dart about with rapid impatience as the still surprised-looking North and Tooth gathered themselves.
It was dark once more, the sun having risen and fallen since their last encounter with Pitch, the time spent recovering from the taxing battle and preparing for the inevitable danger ahead of them. The lights of a city glittered just a little ways off, over what Jack realized quickly to be a night-blackened lake, the shore of which they had surfaced on. Inky waves lapped softly at the soil, scattered with a few sparse tufts of grass. It was peaceful, somehow, a welcome release from the busyness of North's brightened workshop, which continued to churn away long after sunset.
Still, Pitch was over there, somewhere—amidst the towering buildings that cut such a clean silhouette against the star-glossed skies. He was there, and so was Sandy, and with every passing second there were fewer believers.
"They're over there," Jack murmured, jabbing his staff in the direction of the cityscape as Bunny hopped into place beside him. He didn't quite meet the Guardian's eyes, merely for fear of what he may discover there. He knew little about the connection between Bunnymund and Sandman, but he was aware that they were the two most ancient and powerful of them all, so surely there must be something forged between them, something strong and deadly if need be. Bunnymund was a warrior, and Sandy a protector, and ingrained in those roles was something that Jack, being the innocent enough trickster that he was, hesitated even to look in on.
"You ready, then, mate?" Bunny checked softly. Jack swallowed, surprised by the gentleness in the other's tone, which had previously only struck him as stingy and abrasive.
"Of course."
"Really?"
And that made him stop short for a moment, hesitating and taking in a deep breath of the air. It was fresh with the presence of the nearby water, a sharp chill that only invigorated him farther. He didn't want to fight Sandy—he didn't even want to fight Pitch. But he did want to defend the children. Even if they weren't his responsibility, even if he had no right to call himself a Guardian... he absolutely did want to protect them.
"Definitely."
He could hear the smile in Bunny's tone. "Good."
Before either of them could utter another word, however, something stirred in the distance, just near the opposite shore. The darkness seemed to pulsate, intensifying, and Jack's eyes widened as he realized what he must be seeing.
"They know we're here," he gasped, bending his knees and flipping his staff into a defensive stance. "Somehow—somehow they know!"
A second later, Bunnymund had his boomerangs out and ready, their dark wood glistening in the moonlight, and Tooth had pulled North to his feet just in time for the two of them to join, Tooth to Jack's side and North to Bunny's, the former's wings whizzing sharply while the latter wielded his twin swords high above his head. They had been caught off guard, but that wasn't important. What mattered was that they were still ready and willing to fight, prepared for the wrath of the roiling waves of smoky blackness that rushed across the glassy surface of the lake, stirring it into frothing chaos. It was a solid wall, massive and imposing, and even Jack couldn't deny the tremble of fear that jerked through his core at the sight of it.
Within a heartbeat, the nightmares were upon them.
A howling rush filled the air around them, shrieking like the most elemental of tempests, and it was all Jack could do to stay on his feet, let alone actually try to battle the horrendous gale of black and purple that spun about him so furiously. A few halfhearted sparks of ice flew from the end of the wood, but only cracked and shattered against the nightmares wrapping around him, which seemed to be as hard as the obsidian that they resembled. There was absolutely no doubt that Sandy's capture had heightened Pitch's powers considerably—now the most powerful Guardian alive was on his side, and that had tipped the scales.
Through the whirling trails of blackness, he just barely managed to catch sight of one of the others—Tooth, her feathers flashing with desperate vibrancy, her wings slicing apart nightmares as they coalesced around her, spinning themselves into a cyclone. It was clear that she was seconds away from being overwhelmed, and anxiety reared in Jack's chest—he pressed forwards, struggling desperately to reach her, though he had no idea what he could do to help defend against the wicked chaos.
The nightmares were like iron ropes restraining him, pressing in on his chest until he could barely breathe. He fought uselessly, his staff slashing through empty air, a cry that would never reach his lips buried somewhere in the recesses of his half-crushed lungs.
The nightmares' work was swift. Within moments, their abstract forms, not even fully woven into the equine shapes that they usually possessed, and bound her thrashing hands and feet, covered her wings with their repulsively rich fog. And more—they were forcing her very jaw open, clinging like pincers to her trembling chin in an act so crude it was almost grotesque, so that her teeth—her treasured, diamond-bright teeth—shone brightly as a snake of black sand passed between her lips, burrowing deep down into Tooth herself.
She shrieked, then, the sound audible even over the muffled roar of the nightmare wave. And Jack, entirely overwhelmed by the nightmares assaulting him as well as the agony now rampant in his chest, fell back as her writhing form was swallowed completely by the merciless darkness.