Taking Back the Crown

by JCMorrigan

Mozenrath. Archibald Snatcher. Roman Torchwick. Mad Madam Mim. Yzma. The Huntsman. Wuya. Ayam Aghoul. Their mission: take over the multiverse, or look fabulous trying. Rated M for swearing, steamy implications and VERY bloody battles. Contains slash and het shipping.

31. Publicity Stunts

31. Publicity Stunts

The march of Mozenrath's amassed followers proceeded through many more lands, and though the Amarganthians and the denizens of the Land of Ghosts made up the bulk of the entourage, new followers attached themselves to the group here and there, believing Mozenrath to be the savior needed in the Empress' absence.

Inside the palanquin, Mozenrath's patience was running short. "Shouldn't we be there by now?" he huffed.

"That depends," Xayide informed him. "The geography of Fantastica is ever-changing. There is no way of knowing how many lands lie between us and the Ivory Tower. However, I do know that so long as we fix that destination in mind, we will reach it."

"And if Fantastica decides it doesn't WANT us to reach the tower?" Yzma pointed out.

"Villains always get their chance in Fantastica," Xayide told her. "How else would stories be told? I suggest we pass the time by planning the coronation. I expect nothing less than a complete spectacle." She held her palms outward, and above them hovered an illusion of a majestic throne made completely of mirrors. "This is the throne I designed for Bastian Balthazar Bux," she explained. "It had seemed like the most glamorous thing I could imagine at the time, but now it appears paltry to me. It must be replaced."

"What of a dragon design?" the Huntsman suggested.

"I find it hard to believe you of all people want my reign to be symbolized by a dragon," Mozenrath commented.

"I want your rule to be symbolized by you subjugating a dragon and forcing it to be your seat of power," the Huntsman emphasized.

"I was thinking something more like a peacock," Mozenrath mulled over. "Nonthreatening to the eye, but symbolic of wealth and power all the same. Not to mention the detail work we could do with the tail fan."

"You mean this?" Xayide responded, creating an illusion of a throne with a bejeweled peacock tail spreading out majestically behind it.

"I feel like that's been done before," Yzma observed.

"Who would have done THIS before?" Mozenrath asked, deadpan.

The Evil Queen Grimhilde, of course, but no one knew that.

"What else would my emperor like for his grand coronation day?" Xayide asked.

"Well, confetti is a must," Yzma insisted. "As is glitter."

"I heard that when my rival turned up in Agrabah pretending to be a prince," Mozenrath threw in, "he came in a procession containing seventy-five golden camels, fifty-three purple peacocks, ninety-five white Persian monkeys, and sixty elephants. I want at least twice as many of each of these things."

The rest of the journey was relatively short to them, as the amount of fineries Mozenrath wanted for his conquest kept growing and growing in number and extravagance.

...

Grimhilde stood before her mirror, speaking to it of things she wished to view. It showed her the buzzing town squares of Radiant Garden, the inner view of the castle at town's center and those who plotted within its library, the outskirts of town and the Heartless that amassed there.

"What are you looking at?" Maleficent asked rather cheerfully as she entered the room.

"This world," Grimhilde informed her, "and all of its weaknesses."

"Have you been practicing what I requested?"

"The art of seeing other worlds through my mirror," Grimhilde reiterated. "I have made much headway. Watch." She cast her hand to the glass. "Magic mirror with which I scry, show me the state of the Atmos skies."

The scene within the glass changed to an overhead view of a large area of Atmos; the skies were clouded with thick smoke billowing up from the Terras that Mozenrath's battleship had ruined.

"Though I suspect you wish to know the state of more pertinent matters," Grimhilde continued. "Magic mirror, far you now look. Show the location of the prophetic book."

The glass simply went dark.

"Fool," Maleficent growled. "The Book of Prophecies is enchanted so that no manner of magical scrying can locate it."

"Then perhaps you wish to know this instead," Grimhilde posed. "Magic mirror that none eyes can replace, turn thy gaze to the farthest space. In sea or land, in space or air, show us where Mozenrath makes his lair."

The Cyclonian warship filled the glass. "I could locate it more accurately," Grimhilde went on, "if you wish to destroy it now."

"We have other matters to attend to," Maleficent informed Grimhilde. "It will be useful to know where Mozenrath is and what he is doing. However, he has already proven to be an almost respectable foe. If we do not need to trouble him, we shan't. Much like our relationship with those who inhabit the castle of this world."

"From your own recollections, you did not take such an attitude when you sought him out on Remnant to destroy him," Grimhilde reminded Maleficent.

"Let the others believe Mozenrath is the reason I visited Remnant," Maleficent replied cryptically. "I can assure you it was not."

Grimhilde knew better than to ask; she wouldn't get an answer. "Then what is it you seek?"

"To bolster our forces," Maleficent answered. "Show me one who has crossed the worlds without our assistance. Show me one whose heart is steeped in Darkness, even if they lack the power to wield it as magic. Show me one worthy of serving as Pete's replacement."

"Magic mirror," Grimhilde instructed, "put that image to rest. Show me instead what my mistress requests."

The mirror's glass filled with a montage of images, and for the first time since Maleficent had entered, it spoke, its voice clear and loud: "This mysterious one wears a cynical grin." The 24th Joker was shown threatening Lex Luthor into submission before escaping into the alternate dimension he now called his stomping ground. "He outclassed and murdered a parallel twin." His grapple with the 42nd Joker, then the brutal murder, took place. "Nameless save 'Joker,' he currently takes flight through the 42nd Gotham's metropolitan lights." He ran through the streets of Gotham, laughing. The image faded into the mirror's green, eyeless face. "He deals in sadism and cruelty abound. His heart in the Darkness can truly be found. He is opportunistic and tries to beguile, but a rotten soul lurks beneath his smile."

"This interests me." Maleficent smiled. "Show me more of this…Joker."

She watched, rapt, as the mirror obliged.

...

As Sora and Riku arrived in the Boxtroll cavern, Mog informed them, "You're just in time for the grand unveiling, kupo!"

Fish stepped back to gesture toward the myriad of newly forged weapons that lay on the ground, announcing, "TA-DAAAAAA!"

In all the multiverse, there is hardly a better source of craftsmanship than the combination of Moogle and Boxtroll handiwork. A black sword, its blade shaped like a dragon's wing, rested on a sheet on the floor, first in line. It was almost identical to Riku's old Soul Eater blade but for the stone set in the handle, which was a smooth, polished blue stone that, unlike the previous adornment, bore no resemblance to an eye. Riku bent down, picked it up, and gave it an experimental swing, to which the Boxtrolls all thumped their boxes joyfully. "I think this'll work!" Riku laughed.

Next to it, a golden sword adorned with flowers on the hilt was obviously intended for Kairi. A battle-axe of silver adorned with green sat next to a crossbow of silver accented with bright yellow; three silver swords shot through with red, pink, and light blue were next in line. The newly built Magnhild and Stormflower came next. But the final piece in the lineup was the one Fish was the most excited about, rushing to hold up the shield and sword of Crocea Mors and talking up a storm about it.

"He says that the metal you provided us with for accents works perfectly," Jelly translated.

"Jaune will be really glad to know that," Sora said with a nod. "Now it can be like Pyrrha's there with us!"

"You say that like we actually met her," Riku pointed out.

"If Jaune liked her," Sora stated, "she had to be a good friend, right?" He turned to look out over Mog, Fish, Jelly, and the rest of the crowd. "Thanks for helping us out with these."

The Boxtrolls chorused a phrase that was unmistakably "You're welcome!"

"Anytime, kupo!" Mog added. "These were very fun to put together!"

"You are welcome indeed," Jelly stated, "though this does concern me."

"How so?" Sora asked.

"All of these weapons being made for war," Jelly admitted. "I do hope trouble does not come to this town in the form of a fight."

"Don't worry," Riku promised. "We'll do our best to protect this town and stop anyone from hurting it."

"Even Snatcher?" Eggs questioned.

"Archibald Snatcher?" Jelly repeated, flinching, suddenly overcome with an expression of horror. "What has he got to do with this? He's…he's long gone."

"I'll explain later," Eggs promised.

Riku looked long and hard at Jelly. There was something strange about the tone of his voice, something not quite ringing true. It was melancholy, Riku realized. Jelly spoke with melancholy, as though he had a reason to be wistful about Snatcher's return rather than simply afraid and enraged. He wanted to know what had brought this on, but he knew better than to ask.

"Well, looks like we should be moving on," Sora decided. "If Mog's ready, that is."

Mog had flitted to Fish's side, and burbled something softly to Fish in his own language. Fish responded in kind, and clasped Mog's arms in his hands briefly. The two shared a kiss goodbye before Fish let Mog go, telling him a cheerful goodbye, which Mog returned. Mog then approached Sora. "I'm ready, kupo," he announced.

"It was really nice to meet you all," Sora said loudly enough for the entire group to hear. He then stepped up toward Eggs. "How about a handshake goodbye?" Sora and Eggs both raised their hands up to the level of their heads, shaking them wildly.

Riku bit his lip to keep from laughing. "Thanks for everything," he added.

"Will we see you again?" Eggs asked.

"You know it!" Sora promised.

...

Wuya, Irmaplotz, Neo, Snipe, and Xerxes had noticed that several of their number seemed to have vanished from the moto-jousting arena, and launched an expedition to find any trace of them that explained what would have happened. Vexen and Ravess made it clear that neither of them could have cared less about Roman, Snatcher, Mim, and Aghoul's whereabouts and had gone off to their own devices. Eventually, Wuya, Irmaplotz, Neo, Snipe, and Xerxes found themselves in the kitchen where the note had been left, and Wuya's brow furrowed as she tried to decipher Mim's handwriting and spelling.

"Am I even holding the note the right way up?" she grumbled, turning the paper over a few times.

"Let me see that," Irmaplotz demanded, holding out a hand.

Wuya surrendered the paper, and Irmaplotz scanned it. "It says Mim, Aghoul, Roman, and Snatcher went on an errand to another world to…build a criminal empire." She blinked a few times in surprise. "And also, we're apparently out of peanut butter."

"Can you BELIEVE this?" Wuya growled.

"No!" Snipe yapped. "What am I supposed to make my peanut butter and ketchup sandwiches with NOW?"

"NOT THAT!" Wuya snapped. "The fact that they went on an adventure without us!"

Neo nodded fervently, her eyes flashing bright red.

"Xerxes forgotten again," the eel sighed.

"I have half a mind to take off on a conquest mission of our own," Wuya grumbled. "But then, of course, that would risk leaving the base in the hands of the underlings…" She then realized she was surrounded completely by "underlings." "No offense."

"None taken," Irmaplotz said casually.

"I don't get it," Snipe added. "Hey…that bites! There's nobody to joust against except GIRLS now!"

"EXCUSE ME?" Wuya growled.

"Wanna run that by me again?" Irmaplotz added. "Pick your words carefully."

Neo simply drew her sword.

"Come on, you know what I mean!" Snipe went on. "You're all just a bunch of weak little girls! I could beat all three of you in a jousting match with one hand behind my back!"

Wuya looked to Irmaplotz, then to Neo. From the smiles that were overtaking all three of their faces, she knew they were all thinking the same thing. "Care to make that…interesting?" Wuya implored, looking back to Snipe. "Put your money where your mouth is."

"Ohhh, no, you're not getting me to eat money!" Snipe replied. "I fell for that trick once, and I'm not falling for it again!"

"No," Wuya corrected. "I mean you do what you just said. Fight all three of us at once. Then we'll see who's really the weakling around here. Though I recommend you don't actually have a hand tied behind your back."

"You're on!" Snipe cried, pointing at Wuya dramatically. A thought occurred to him: "But no cheating with magic or illusions!"

"If you're so confident you can beat us," Irmaplotz asked, "why do you have to tell us not to use magic?"

"No, no." Wuya held up a hand in front of Irmaplotz. "Let the man have his request. No magic. No Semblance. Just three versus one jousting." She put out a hand. "What do you say?"

"I say bring it!" Before Wuya could stop him, Snipe had spat in his hand and used it to clasp hers to seal the deal. Irmaplotz, Neo, and Wuya cringed in unison.

"This not end well," Xerxes muttered.

...

The jousting arena was set up. Snipe stood at one end, next to his standard mechanical steed. At the other, Neo, Wuya, and Irmaplotz buckled on helmets before straddling and revving up their own bikes.

"You girls are goin' down," Snipe proclaimed before mounting his motorcycle.

"This is your last chance to put on extra protective padding," Wuya warned.

"That stuff's for babies!" Snipe chided.

"Suit yourself," Wuya said with a slight shoulder shrug.

"ON MARK!" Xerxes called out. "GET SET!"

Snipe and Wuya glared daggers at each other. Wuya's lips curled into a smirk.

"GO!"

Though the arena was next door to one of the base's small libraries, the walls were thick enough that the sound of the zooming motors was muffled. This pleased Vexen, who had chosen that particular library to look for new reading material. Satisfied with a thick tome, he settled into a comfortable leather chair and cracked the book open.

He was suddenly aware of a soft noise coming from inside the same room: footfalls. His gaze rose from his book to behold Ravess searching the shelves for something of her own to read. Ravess looked back over her shoulder at him, flinching a little when she realized his green eyes were fixed right upon her. "I didn't disturb you, did I?" she asked, her tone only slightly standoffish.

"Not at all," Vexen replied, rather lacking in scorn himself. "Do keep the volume down, of course."

"I intend to," Ravess promised before turning back to select a book. Without a further word, she dropped into a chair of her own and began to read. Vexen turned back to his own reading material.

There was something rather pleasant, they both realized, about simply being able to share the room with someone else who wished to make no attempt at social interaction and instead just read quietly.

Unfortunately for both of them, though the walls were thick enough to be soundproof, Irmaplotz was strong enough that if she rammed her motorcycle into Snipe's at a perpendicular angle, she was able to plow him right through that wall and shove his bike all the way across the library. That was exactly what happened.

Ravess and Vexen leapt up onto their chairs to avoid any chance of their feet being mashed by the oncoming force. Snipe's motorcycle slammed into the wall hard, at which point Irmaplotz threw her bike into reverse. Wuya and Neo were hot on her wheels.

Snipe tried to get his bearings, turning his bike around. Neo pulled up next to him, deftly spinning so that her hands rested on the seat of her bike and her legs were free to kick. Kick they did, right into Snipe's chest, knocking him right off his bike and onto the library floor. His bike careened out of control, crashing into a bookcase dangerously near Vexen and halting only when the bookcase toppled onto it. That gave Wuya an idea; she careened around to the nearest bookshelf to Snipe and briefly removed her hands from the bars of the motorcycle long enough to grasp the shelf and pull it right down on top of Snipe, who, thanks to his bulky muscles, was only slightly bruised by the onslaught.

Wuya threw her motorcycle into park, then dismounted to look down at Snipe, hands on hips. Irmaplotz and Neo pulled their bikes into halts as well, joining Wuya. "Still think you have what it takes to beat three weak little girls?" Wuya taunted.

Snipe was too disoriented to answer.

"That's what I thought," Wuya said proudly before turning on a heel and making as though to stalk out of the library through the hole in the wall; Irmaplotz and Neo followed suit.

"NOW WAIT JUST A MOMENT!" Vexen threw himself in their path. "YOU COULD HAVE KILLED US BOTH WITH THAT LITTLE STUNT!"

"And what's more!" Ravess joined him. "You've RUINED a perfectly good library!"

"Blame him," Wuya said, pointing back to Snipe. "This was his idea. We would have left everything completely alone if he hadn't wanted to protect his ego."

"I thought you couldn't get mad," Irmaplotz pointed out. "You don't have a heart."

"Old habits, it seems, die hard," Vexen grumbled. "When I see something that would have made me angry, I am apparently conditioned to go through the motions of anger."

"So you're not actually angry," Irmaplotz pointed out.

"I FEEL very little toward the situation," Vexen argued, "but I have quite a few THOUGHTS toward it, and none of them are positive." He folded his arms.
"Well, that's just your problem," Wuya remarked, stepping around him to walk back out to the arena.

"I'M angry!" Ravess reminded the triad. "Isn't ANYONE going to apologize for nearly murdering us both and for destroying one-of-a-kind books?"

Neo shook her head as she passed.

"Snipe started it," Irmaplotz insisted as she followed.

Ravess and Vexen's heads both whipped angrily back toward where Snipe had been pinned underneath the bookshelf, but by that time, he was gone, having pried the shelf off of him so he could escape out the library's main door (and leaving the shelf to just fall back down on the empty floor in his place). By then, a suspicious plume of smoke was rising from the wreckage of his motorcycle; Vexen covered the area in a layer of frost just to be safe.

"We must DO something about your brother before he turns this entire base into a scrap heap," Vexen grumbled.

"I agree," Ravess replied. "But once he gets his mind set on something, it's almost impossible to shake it out of him. He only has room for one thought at a time, and today, that thought is moto-jousting."

"Perhaps a recent feature of this base can lend us a hand in subduing our little problem," Vexen theorized. "I shall need to do some testing."

"Whatever you're thinking, I'll gladly assist," Ravess volunteered.

...

The Agrabanian palace was surrounded by a veritable labyrinth of courtyards that branched off the primary yard, and Kairi had taken to exploring these. There seemed to be no end to the gorgeous greenery.

She became aware of the sound of a woman's voice, one she had never heard, tinny as though filtered through an electronic device. Curious, Kairi made her way toward the sound, finding herself in a smaller walled-off area with a miniature fountain and a sprinkling of blue flowers.

Jaune stood with his back to her, his scroll propped up on a shrub. "All right, Jaune," the voice said from the scroll. "Just like we practiced."

Jaune took a ready stance, holding up a branch as though it were his sword.

"Follow these instructions," the voice continued. "Shield up!"

Jaune braced his shield arm in front of him as though his defense device were still with him. He knew the drill wouldn't be the same if he didn't have the real thing to compensate for the weight of, but all the same, he had felt drawn to practice this way.

"Keep your grip tight!" the scroll commanded, and Jaune's fingers tightened around the branch. "And don't forget to keep your front foot forward!" Jaune edged out his foot, keeping in line with the instructions.

Kairi watched in silence as the scroll talked him through the drill, Jaune swinging the branch as though it were his sword. When the instructions ended, Jaune paused, waiting for what came next, knowing what he would feel but still compelled to listen all the same.

"I want you to know that I'm happy just to be a part of your life," the voice said rather unsurely. "I'll always be here for you, Jaune." It was as if she knew, Jaune thought, not for the first time. It was as if she knew she would no longer be there one day, and needed to record the words for him to hear when she could no longer say them to his face. He hung his head; the branch fell from his limp fingers. A small gasp escaped his lips as he tried to hold back from tears.

Kairi wondered whether she should say something or whether she should just back away and pretend she'd seen nothing. After all, she knew she had just intruded on something very personal, something she knew nothing about. But neither did she want to leave Jaune in distress, and that won out. "Jaune?"

Startled, Jaune whipped about to face the one who'd addressed him. "Kairi!" he gasped. He forced his heart rate and breathing to slow. "Uh…what's up?" He forced a smile.

"I'm sorry," Kairi began. "I know I shouldn't have seen what just happened."

"The whole thing, huh?" Jaune replied softly, sheepishly.

"From the part where the voice told you to put your shield up," Kairi confessed.

"The voice," Jaune repeated, realization dawning upon him. "You…never saw her before. You never heard her."

Kairi was about to ask who he meant, but the answer was obvious. "Was that Pyrrha?"

Jaune bent to retrieve the scroll, bringing it over toward Kairi. "Would…you like to meet her? So to speak."

"I'd love to."

Jaune started the recording over again at a much lower volume, resting the scroll in Kairi's hands. She looked down at the screen, into the green eyes of the redheaded warrior. And as Pyrrha spoke, repeating the steps of the drill, Kairi smiled. She could already tell just from this brief glimpse that Pyrrha was kind. If she were alive, Kairi thought, she could tell they would have made great friends. "She seems wonderful," Kairi stated once Pyrrha had once again proclaimed her happiness to be part of Jaune's life.

"She was."

"I'm sorry she isn't still here," Kairi said sincerely.

"It's okay," Jaune replied, though he wasn't quite sure it was. "She'd…she'd want me to move on. To be happy without her. I mean, before she went up against Cinder, the last thing she did was get me to safety so I wouldn't get hurt – " His voice cracked, and he cut himself off. After a moment of silence, he began again: "I KNOW she'd want me to move on. But…I can't. Not yet."

"That's okay," Kairi reassured him. "It wasn't that long ago, and she was special to you. I know if I ever lost Sora or Riku, I wouldn't be the same for a long time." She was aware the analogy wasn't quite correct, but didn't have a better one.

Jaune shifted awkwardly. "The thing is…I know there are people worth moving on for. So why can't I just…pick myself up and do it?"

"You will, one day," Kairi encouraged. "Don't rush it. Those people will wait for you."

It made Jaune wonder, for a moment, if they were talking about the same person. "So, uh…" He ruffled his own hair with a hand nervously. "How've you been?"

"I always love visiting Agrabah," Kairi told him with a smile. "It's one of the most beautiful cities in the worlds. It's just so…alive!"

"It really is," Jaune agreed. "I'm glad I came here."

Kairi's expression turned somber for a moment, and Jaune asked, "Is something bothering you?"

"I'm trying not to let it get to me," Kairi sighed, "but I'm still worried about the fact that we couldn't find Even. I don't even know if he was that nice to me when I was young, and I know he didn't get along well with the rest of the Committee, but knowing the part he played in my past makes him kind of like family. What if something happened to him?"

"We're going to do our best to find him, no matter what," Jaune insisted. He let out a sigh. "I'm tired, Kairi. Tired of losing everything. So I'm gonna do whatever I can to make sure you don't lose everything too, okay?"

She was taken aback by the comment, her heart fluttering. "You really don't have to do that for me."

"It's the least I can do for a good friend," Jaune insisted.

Both were jolted from their conversation by the sound of Razoul bellowing "Your highness! YOUR HIGHNESS!"

Without needing any further signal, Kairi and Jaune both rushed into the central courtyard only to find the Agrabanian royal family and all of their guests doing the same. Razoul and his company of guards had arrived, their uniforms torn, their skin bruised and in some places bloodied.

"Razoul!" Jasmine gasped. "What happened?"

"A scouting party…to the Black Sands," Razoul answered, short of breath.

"I didn't order any such thing," the Sultan said sternly.

"We went of our own accord to gather information on the current threats to the kingdoms of the Seven Deserts," Razoul admitted. "We ran into a company of Mamluks on our way out. We prevailed."

"But you're hurt," Jasmine pointed out. "You should go rest until – "

"This cannot wait," Razoul interrupted. "You need to know the intelligence we gathered."

"It only takes one of you to tell us that," Aladdin pointed out. "The rest of you can go patch up those wounds."

Razoul turned to the other guards to tell them, "Dismissed." As they hobbled away to tend to their injuries, Razoul returned his attention to his audience. "We had thought to find Mozenrath there," he explained. "The situation seems to be…worse. You will recall telling us of fighting one who called himself a god of the dead?"

"Hades, yeah," Aladdin recalled. "HE was there?"

"As a servant of the one called 'Maleficent' and in communication with her," Razoul went on. "And even worse, he made reference to someone named 'Jafar.' We are hoping he does not mean…"

"But that's impossible," the Sultan interjected. "Jafar is dead."

"Not necessarily," Aladdin pointed out. "Hades brought him back to life that one time. And from what I've heard about Maleficent…" He turned to look at Kairi.

Kairi nodded. "We thought she was dead, too. But she keeps coming back and bringing others with her."

"Then I am afraid we may be dealing with a ghost from the past," Razoul went on. "Hades and Jafar seemed to be looking for some sort of magical knowledge. We don't know what."

"But what about Mozenrath?" Jasmine asked.

"That's what is strange," Razoul stated. "They mentioned Mozenrath…but they seem to be at odds with him. He has lost control of the Black Sands to them."

"So whatever Maleficent's doing…isn't related to whatever Mozenrath's doing?" Aladdin clarified.

"So we have at LEAST two groups of murderous villains out to get us," Stork reiterated. "Greeeaaaaat."

"The Black Sands belongs to Maleficent now?" Kairi pressed. "Are you sure?"
"As far as we can tell, Your Highness," Razoul told Kairi.

Kairi muttered a word.

"Huh?" Jaune asked.

She said it louder: "Even. What if that's where they're keeping Even?"

"Then we have to go get him back," Jaune said immediately.

"Um, no weapons, remember?" Stork chided. "What are we going to do, just march in unarmed?"
"We can't just storm the Black Sands without a plan," Jasmine added.

"Is that really what we're about to do?" the Sultan said, taken aback. "Storm the Black Sands?"
"If Kairi has a friend there," Aladdin insisted, "then that's exactly what we're going to do. But we do have to be smart about it."

"The streets are crawling with more than just Mamluks," Razoul reported. "There are giant creatures of all manner, though most of them bear the same emblem."

"Is it this?" Kairi traced a shape in the air: a heart with an elongated and stylized bottom, shot through with an X.

"The very same!" Razoul cried.

"Heartless," Kairi said with a nod. "We'll really have to be careful."

"So how are we going to do this?" Jaune asked.

"I don't know yet," Aladdin answered, "but we'll think of something."

...

The Joker, now the only Joker to roam 42nd Gotham, found himself at somewhat of a crossroads. He had ideas. Many, many ideas…and yet no resources besides Luthor's cannon. No bombs, no airships, no deadly toys. He stalked the alleys of the city, peering out at the streets and the cars that passed by. He wanted to shake this city up: introduce it to the new Joker, the real Joker. But how was he to do that starting from scratch? Where was the first step?

A streetlamp flickered overhead, its light obviously failing. Then its light suddenly began to shine consistently brightly, as though it had fixed itself. The Joker only noticed this because it had been in his peripheral vision. He turned to acknowledge the lamp, then looked back out at the street. That was when he realized, really, why the light had stopped flickering. It had simply frozen. Just like everything else.

The cars no longer moved, halted in place on the road. Curious, the Joker stepped out into plain sight on the street. There was no uproar at the freeze of traffic, meaning it wasn't just a synchronized motor failure. Furthermore, while he knew he didn't look like the Joker this world knew, the Joker was most certainly recognizable as a Joker, and no one was pointing him out and screaming bloody murder. There were indeed pedestrians to be found on the sidewalks, but they were frozen mid-stride. Joker waved a hand in front of one of them to try and get them to move. Snapped his fingers. Slapped him across the face and laughed because there was nothing the hapless man could do about it. He thought about what worse he could do when the voice interrupted him:
"Enjoying yourself?"
He whipped about to see her standing behind him: tall, perfectly postured, draped in black robes with her horned cowl. She stood so still that Joker would have thought her frozen in time as well if not for the fact that he had heard her speak and knew that she had only just arrived.

"I was just starting to, really," he replied, arms spreading into a shrug. "Imagine the possibilities, after all!"

"I hardly need to," Maleficent replied coyly, "though I am sure you have more than a few creative ideas."

"So let me guess," Joker went on. "You're the one who made everything stop. That's some costume you're wearing. Batsy must have some real fun with you."

"I am not one of the…eccentric ne'er-do-wells that call Gotham home," Maleficent explained. "I have my sights set on much higher than mere bank robberies."

"Oh, really? Care to explain to me the point of bringing all of Gotham to a screeching halt?"
"You and I have something in common, Joker," Maleficent explained. "Though we express it quite differently, we are both destructive spirits. I had hoped that perhaps we could align our goals into a single objective. You have traveled the worlds, and therefore know of their vast expanse. I, too, have come here from worlds away. I seek power and dominion over every world that is. I believe you can assist me greatly."
The Joker's face fell into an expression of scorn; "Oh, goody. You're not even the FUN kind of insane. Whatever you're selling, I'm not buying."

"Think not of what you stand to gain," Maleficent advised, "but of what may become of you should you refuse."

"Try me," Joker dared.

Maleficent gripped her staff with both hands, raising it to the skies. "METEORS OF HEAVEN!" she cried. "UNLEASH THY FURY!"

The skies tore apart, and brilliant blue spheres of energy, each about the size of a car, rained down upon the street, shaking the ground as they impacted. Vehicles were crushed into twisted messes of metal and plastic. The asphalt was torn up into shards. The sides of buildings were grazed, sending down a shower of glass shards. One meteor landed quite close to Joker, causing him to leap to safety, hitting the ground on all fours. As the block was ravaged, Maleficent simply stood calmly in the midst of the destruction, watching Joker. He looked sheepishly back to her, now with a much better idea of what he was dealing with.

Once the meteors had subsided, Joker wrenched himself to his feet. "I don't suppose you'll be taking 'no' for an answer, then."

"You already understand our alliance quite well," Maleficent replied.

"All right, all right. What's in the fine print? What do you want me to do?"
"First, impress me," Maleficent commanded. "I shall provide you with whatever you wish, so long as you use it to make an impact here in Gotham. If the results please me, I shall welcome you into my fold, and you shall become accustomed to sweeter tastes than the victory that comes of swiping paltry precious stones out of ill-guarded shops. Fail me, and I will acquaint you with more pain than you have ever inflicted upon any of your hapless victims."

"Anything I want, you say?" Joker reiterated. "One moment." He retreated into the alley, returning with Luthor's cannon. "You have better toys than this?"
"Much better indeed," Maleficent confirmed.

She knew he was going to fire the cannon upon her well in advance. The blast was deflected by a very simple magical shield. "You will only get away with that once," she warned.

"Fair's fair," Joker relented. "But for real: if I can have anything I want, the first thing I'm going to need is something you probably can't get me…though I have a few ideas where I can pick one up."

"Of what do you speak?"
He grinned widely. "A Harley."

...

Not too far away, three caped figures – one tall, two slightly shorter – stood atop a skyscraper's summit, looking down upon the city's largest art museum.

"Seriously," Batgirl asked, "how many times are we going to have to stop somebody from trying to steal out of this incredibly specific museum?"
"Gotham's rarest artwork is housed in this facility," the Batman answered her, surveying the building through a set of technologically amplified binoculars. "You couldn't even buy the contents if you had three banks' worth of money."

"Got any idea whose MO this is?" Robin asked. "Penguin leave behind another one of his penguin-shaped bombs?"
"How big of an ego do you have to even have for that?" Batgirl shook her head.

"No, lemme guess again," Robin tried. "Bane busted through the wall. Or Mr. Freeze iced it over and smashed it."

"That's the thing." Batman lowered the binoculars. "There's no sign of a break-in at all. If the alarm hadn't registered on the Batwave, I wouldn't even think there was anyone in there."

"False alarm?" Batgirl wondered out loud.

"No," Batman answered, fishing for another gadget within his belt. "There are exactly two criminals we have profiled who have the ability to get into and out of high-security buildings unnoticed, and Basil Karlo wouldn't do this without showing off for the camera. That leaves…"

"Aw, maaaaan," Batgirl groaned. "Not THAT guy."

Robin folded his arms around his head as best he could in jest. "Look at me! I'm Ragdoll! I'm so TWISTED! You're tying me up in KNOTS! Contortionist puns, I'm so hilarious!"

Batgirl snorted. "Yup. That's him, all right."

"Which is why I'm calling for backup," Batman concluded, retrieving a communicator.

"Wait, what?" Batgirl shook her head slightly. "You're calling backup. On RAGDOLL?"

"Think about it," Batman reminded them. "When have we actually caught Ragdoll in the act of stealing things?"

"When he tries to steal from you directly, and you see him because he's an idiot," Robin volunteered.

"When he teams up with other idiots and they get in each other's way," Batgirl added.

Batman nodded. "As much as I hate to admit it, Ragdoll is one of the slipperiest thieves out there. Almost every time we've caught him is because someone else set off an alarm. He doesn't set off alarms, and I know he knows this museum's security system like the back of his hand. Which leads me to one question: why did an alarm get triggered?"

"Because he's actually not alone, and somebody else screwed up?" Batgirl suggested.

"I buy that he's not alone," Batman agreed, "but he went to lengths to make it look like he is. That alarm went off because he wanted it to. He tripped it on purpose, and I'm guessing it was to bring us here. And that's why I'm calling for backup."

"Like we can't handle whoever's in there," Robin boasted. "We've kicked the butt of every baddie in Gotham ten times over!"

"Still," Batman grumbled, "it wouldn't hurt."

He clicked down the speaker button on the communicator. "You there?" he asked.

There was a moment of silence, and he wondered if perhaps his attempt to reach out had gone unheard. Then the reply: "Batman? Haven't heard your voice in a while."

"Same," Batman confessed. "Though I'm guessing you've been getting along fine on your own."
"Same to you. Though the fact that you called me suggests maybe you're not doing so hot tonight."

"There's something off about the break-in at the Romano Museum," Batman explained. "I have a feeling we're being set up."

"Say no more. You want cover? I'll get you cover."

"I can take care of the heavy lifting."

"What, you think it's too dangerous for me in there?"
"If this really is a trap designed for the Batman, it's definitely more than one detective can handle."

"I'm a big girl, Batman. You just focus on doing what you do best, and I'll focus on doing what I do best."

"Sounds like a plan."

As Batman pocketed the communicator, Batgirl groaned, "She's not gonna bring my dad into this, is she?"
"I'd stay out of sight if I were you," Batman replied.

"That means yes," Batgirl sighed.

It only took a moment for the Batman, Batgirl, and Robin to find themselves inside the museum, wandering the spacious and empty halls, Batman shining a flashlight ahead..

"Place looks deserted," Robin observed. "Are we SURE there's someone in here?"
"Knowing Raggedy, he's probably hiding inside of a vase or a coffee mug or something," Batgirl commented.

"Be on your guard," Batman cautioned.

They turned the corner into a wide exhibition floor studded with sculptures, its ceiling vaulted. The flashlight cast gnarled shadows that spread out from each piece of three-dimensional modern art.

"Creepy," Robin remarked.

"You scared of the dark?" Batgirl teased.

"NO!" Robin said defensively. "I just mean it's creepy…aesthetically!"

"You don't even know what that word means."

The trio proceeded. They got as far as the center of the exhibition floor before the shot rang out, a rush of heat blasting right past. Batman spun, spreading his arms, putting his body between the hot energy and the two children.

Footsteps clicked, echoing against the walls as Roman Torchwick walked into view. "Now, really, that's just adorable," he remarked, Cudgel still aimed at Batman. "Nearly blowing yourself up to protect the – "

Batman moved just enough that Roman got a good look at Batgirl and Robin. "KIDS?" Roman finished, staring in awe at first before breaking into laughter. "You brought KIDS to come fight us?"

"Careful, Torchwick." Snatcher approached from the opposite end of the room, drawing his own chained weapon. "Children do seem to be the undoing of the both of us, more often than not."

"Don't REMIND me," Roman groaned.

"Torchwick?" Robin repeated. "That's a new one."

Batman wasn't sure which villain to face down first. He chose Roman only by virtue of Roman having spoken first. "Who are you? What do you want?"
"Do you seriously expect every bad guy you face down to answer those questions?" Roman replied. "Okay, I'll throw you a bone. Name's Roman Torchwick, and I want…oh, let's see here…everything in this museum. Is that going to be a problem? I feel like that's going to be a problem."

"And what about Mr. Creepy-Face over here?" Batgirl asked, glowering at Snatcher. "What's his deal?"
"How rude!" Snatcher remarked coyly. "Haven't your parents ever taught you to RESPECT your elders? You can refer to me by my PROPER name: Archibald Snatcher."

"Okay, that is NOT your real name," Robin laughed.

"If you're going to call anyone a creepy-face," a third voice cut in, "it should be me!" Mim let her glamour of invisibility fall, revealing herself in the center of the room. "The magnificent, MARVELOUS Mad Madam Mim!"

"Well, these are definitely some new faces," Batgirl remarked.

"Think we should show 'em what we're made of?" Robin asked.

"Actually, I was sort of thinking this would be the other way around," Roman commented. "WE show YOU what WE'RE made of. How's that sound?"

"Don't do anything you'll regret," Batman warned. "You still have time to stand down."

"Did you hear that, Torchwick?" Snatcher laughed. "He thinks he can simply ASK us to stand down!"

"Idea," Roman replied. "You and I give the kids the punishment we never got to give our own pains in the ass back home. If Batbrain is as good as Ragsy…" He paused. "Wait. No. Raggy…Dollface…Bendy…Petey…" He snapped his fingers. "MISTER TWISTER. That's it. If Batbrain is as good as Mister Twister said, he should just barely pass as a durable enough toy for Mim."

"Sounds good to me!" Mim laughed.

"But really," Roman concluded, "let's just shut up and get to the good part." He clicked the trigger of the Cudgel, pointing it directly at Robin's head.

Snatcher aimed his own weapon at Batgirl's stomach. He and Roman fired in unison, causing Batman, Batgirl, and Robin to scatter, each leaping to safety in a different direction.

"Hmm, what oh what shall it be today?" Mim mused. "Well, I'm fighting a giant bat, so a giant hawk only seems appropriate, don't you think?" She spread out her arms, morphing into the shape of an immense bird with needle-sharp talons and a hooked beak. She flapped her wings once, twice in order to gain some height in the air, then dove at the Batman. Batman was faster, leaping out of her way and causing her to collide with a priceless sculpture, shattering it on the ground.

Roman approached Robin, Cudgel outstretched. "The thing about annoying little kids like you is that you're drawn to trying to kick my ass like moths to a flame. It's like you really don't think I can handle picking on someone my own size. I'm starting to resent that."

"Don't take it personally," Robin replied, though he had no idea what other kid Roman could have been referring to. "Me against most people isn't a fair fight for them."

"Y'know what? Shut up." Roman aimed and fired the Cudgel. Robin cartwheeled to safety before withdrawing an extendable pole that he stretched out into a full-length weapon; the Cudgel's blast broke down another sculpture. Robin ran toward Roman, spinning the pole; Roman countered it with the shaft of the Cudgel. Robin and Roman's weapons clashed again and again, each waiting for the other to make the mistake that would do him in, but both were experts at parrying.

"What about you?" Batgirl asked, turning toward Snatcher. "You gonna try and bring us down too? No offense, but you don't look like much of a fighter."

Snatcher noticed the fringe of red hair extending from Batgirl's cowl. "It always was the plucky young redheads," he grunted.

"Something wrong with redheads?" Roman called from across the room as he continued to hold off Robin's attacks.

"You and Miss Wuya are, frankly, the only ones I can stand!" Snatcher replied, firing his gun at Batgirl. Given the course of events so far, he fully expected her to be able to dodge it, and she did. He then launched the mallet; she sidestepped it before grabbing onto the chain. Snatcher was utterly stunned at her strength as she jerked the chain toward herself, lifting a leg and planting a foot hard in Snatcher's stomach. Snatcher went reeling backward, hitting the floor.

Batgirl stomped on his chest to keep him down; "Not so tough now, are you?"
The floor behind her exploded, sending her flying. Roman had managed to break out of the onslaught from Robin long enough to get a shot in at her, and it hit exactly where he wanted it to. Batgirl's body was propelled forth into another sculpture, cracking it.

"LEAVE HER ALONE!" Robin barked, drawing two small projectiles from his belt and launching them. Roman caught both on the shaft of the Cudgel.

"Did you REALLY think I wouldn't be prepared for throwing stars?" Roman sighed, plucking the fallen weapons and chucking them right back at their owner, who performed a handspring out of the way.

Mim sped toward Batman yet again; he sidestepped, letting her collide with the wall. She responded by changing form again as she spun back around to face him, now a thickset rhinoceros with a sharp horn. She charged again; Batman leapt over top of her, running across her back to leap to safety behind. He was only surprised momentarily by her shapeshifting abilities; he figured that she must have been some variant of Martian. Therefore, it was safe to assume, he thought, that she could read his mind as well. She remained in front of him, shifting into the shape of a horse and kicking outward hard with her rear legs; Batman ducked to avoid the flying hooves, crawling under Mim's stomach and readying a taser. When the gadget collided with Mim's skin, sending en electric current throughout her whole body, she seized up…with laughter. "Heeheeheeheehee! That tickles!"

Batman rolled out from beneath Mim, who was in the process of remolding her shape yet again. "I'm guessing you already know what I'm thinking," he told her. "Though you're making it obvious. You and your associates are destroying too much of the art in this building. It's not actually what you came for, is it?"

"Nope!" Mim laughed, solidifying into the shape of a kangaroo.

"What ARE you here for?" Batman asked, though he knew the chances of getting an actual answer were slim. He ducked, but not quite quickly enough; Mim seized him by the shoulders, pulled him upright, and planted both feet hard into his stomach, sending him to the ground with a grunt and what would become a very colorful bruise.

"You'll have to find THAT out the hard way!" Mim laughed.

Batman balled up a fist, swinging at her face; she leapt into the air, becoming an average-sized falcon, and arced back out of danger's way. "Torchwick mentioned Ragdoll," Batman continued. "I know he's the one that broke you into this building. Where is he?"

"THAT, I can tell you," Mim answered, landing on the floor as a leopard and preparing to leap. "He's waiting for the rest of the party to show up!"

"The rest of the – "

Batman found himself pinned beneath Mim, twisting his head this way and that to avoid her swiping claws. He kneed her in the stomach, distracting her just long enough to roll away and tossing an ice pellet at her as he evaded.

Mim attempted to run after him, only to find her feet frozen to the ground. "Oh, fiddlesticks!" She morphed into a massive elephant, shattering the ice that held her.

As Roman and Robin remained locked in battle, Snatcher found Batgirl was more than a match for him. "So you don't like redheads, huh?" she asked as she flipped away from one of his lightning blasts. "I'm beginning to get a bad taste in my mouth about guys in red hats." She decked him in the face, and he could feel a trickle of blood running down his nose. He bit back a growl of pain; the last thing he needed was for Roman to get distracted by him and lose his fight.

Mim, however, could spare a moment to avenge a friend; her trunk curled around Batgirl's upper body, lifting the young woman up. "HEY!" Batgirl yelled, squirming; she tried reaching for her belt, but her arms were pinned to her sides. "Put me DOWN!"

"Oh, you want to be put down?" Mim jeered. "Then I'll put you down!" She raised Batgirl up ever higher, and Batman knew what she was about to do.

A pair of batarangs flew at Mim's trunk. Mim had been about to slam Batgirl down onto the floor, perhaps hard enough to break bone, but the sting caused her to drop the purple-caped sidekick; Batman rushed forth and caught her, then rolling to bring both of them out of the way.

"Thanks," Batgirl said breathlessly. "I owe you one."

"I'm not keeping track," Batman reminded her.

Snatcher turned to Mim; "I believe I owe you for that one."

"You sure do," Mim affirmed.

Batman took a moment to wonder if his plan to call for backup had gone somehow wrong. If he interpreted Mim correctly, there had been a contingency plan for exactly that.

And he was right.

The police car pulled up silently outside the museum. "Remember," its front seat passenger, one Detective Ellen Yin, cautioned, "the Batman was sure this was some kind of trap. And if it was a trap meant for him, we have to be careful."

"If you'd've asked me a couple years ago if I ever thought I'd see you working directly with the Batman," the back seat passenger, a newly instated officer Ethan Bennett, commented, "I would've thought you were playing some kind of joke on me."

"And I would have thought the same thing if someone had told me I'd have the former Clayface working in my inner circle," the driver, Commissioner James Gordon, added. "I think we all just need to accept the fact that help comes from where we least expect it."

They disembarked the car, guns drawn as they approached the entrance to the Romano Museum. "Be ready for anything," Gordon warned.

"I already am," Yin replied, though she unfortunately failed to notice the sewer grate dislodging behind her and the thin figure silently springing up from it. Likewise, all three officers completely missed the flitting of movement across the roof of the building as another warrior lay in wait.

"SURPRISE!" Ragdoll yelled as he leapt upon Yin from behind, wrapping his legs aroud her waist and his arms around her neck, squeezing tight to choke her. Yin twisted the hand holding the gun around to aim at him, but he ripped it away from her in one fluid motion. "Didn't your parents ever warn you not to play with guns? They're NOT toys, you know!"

"YIN!" Bennett spun and turned his own gun on Ragdoll; Yin's struggling shook them both so that they moved in and out of Bennett's line of fire, and he hesitated, not wanting to shoot his partner.

That was long enough for Firefly to launch himself from the roof, aiming twin jets of heat from his gauntlets at Bennett and Gordon with a cry of "LET'S HEAT THIS BABY UP!"

Gordon and Bennett dove in opposite directions, rolling across the asphalt. "Decisions, decisions," Firefly mused as he looked to each of them. "Y'know what? I think I'm gonna start out by putting Clayface through the kiln." He raised a gauntlet, aiming it at Bennett.

Gordon and Bennett both drew; Bennett was faster, and his bullet grazed Firefly's gauntlet. "You missed," Firefly taunted.

"Did I?" Bennett replied, noticing the steady stream of gasoline dripping from Firefly's wrist.

"I really hate when people do that," Firefly replied, raising his other arm – only for that fuel line to be shot out by Gordon. "Stop DOING THAT!" Firefly yelled in rage. "Okay, fine. We'll do this the old-fashioned way." He rushed Bennett, throwing just enough of a curve into his path that Bennett knew shooting would result in a miss. Firefly caught and twisted Bennnett's gun arm enough to get him to drop the weapon, then kicked the gun across the street while putting Bennett into a headlock. Bennett, however, was strong; a few movements and the position was reversed, with Bennett holding Firefly at bay.

While the two continued back and forth, Yin slammed Ragdoll's body against the side of the police car to try and get him to loosen his grip. When it didn't work, she repeated the process twice; Ragdoll became rather dazed from the repeated blows, and Yin found she could pry his arms off of her neck, gasping in much-needed air. She ripped his body off of hers, spinning him around and holding him at arm's length. He flinched, expecting her to punch him in the face. Instead, she aimed a sharp kick at his groin.

That just elicited a laugh from Ragdoll. "To your credit," he informed Yin, "that would have worked on just about any other man." He broke her grip, slithering beneath her to yank at her ankles and send her off balance. She broke her fall with her hands against the asphalt, quickly spinning her legs into a kick outward at Ragdoll. He backflipped, then pirouetted, then leapt on top of the police car in a dramatic arabesque. "Well?" he taunted. "Come and get me!"

When Firefly had rushed Bennett, Gordon had been about to shoot. However, he soon found himself tied up with the last threat that had been put in place as a backup defense. The flying white bomb – which he couldn't quite believe was actually shaped like a skull – registered in his peripheral vision just enough for him to get out of the way. Regaining his bearings, Gordon aimed his firearm up at the steps of the museum, which Aghoul was descending slowly and dramatically.

"I couldn't just let THEM have the time of their afterlives without crashing the dead man's party!" Aghoul remarked, another skull appearing in his left hand while his scythe materialized in his right.

"Who…ARE you?" Gordon asked in awe. "Some kind of…Grim Reaper knockoff?"
"Knockoff?" Aghoul repeated. "I was hoping to fill in for the real thing!" He chucked the next skull at Gordon as hard as he could, another taking its place in Aghoul's hand. Gordon evaded once, twice, thrice. At least Aghoul, much unlike Firefly and Ragdoll, wasn't a moving target, and wasn't tangled up with someone Gordon didn't want to put at risk. Faced with no choice and a hail of bombs, Gordon fired directly at Aghoul.

When the bullet hit, Aghoul flinched, confused. He then realized he'd been shot in the stomach, and the bullet had gone all the way through him to the other side. He turned around, dropping his bomb to pick up the bullet. "You call this a weapon?" he remarked, rolling the small piece of ammunition in the palm of his hand.

"How…" Gordon gasped as he took in the sight of Aghoul moving without reacting to any pain, without dripping any blood. Overcome with panic, he fired again.

This time, Aghoul had to fish the bullet out of his chest. "This is starting to get annoying," Aghoul growled. Deciding he was done playing games, he charged at Gordon, scythe raised, and not a single bullet could slow him down. Gordon turned tail and ran just as Aghoul slammed the scythe blade down into where he'd been standing.

Back inside the museum, Snatcher took advantage of his newfound freedom to assist Roman, shooting directly at Robin. Robin saw the bolt of lightning flying just in time, flipping back out of harm's way. When he came to rest, he faced down the barrels of both Roman and Snatcher's weapons.

"ROBIN!" Batman and Batgirl both rushed him, only for Mim, now a snarling bear, to throw herself in front of them. Batgirl loosed two sharp-edged projectiles; Mim caught one in her mouth and the other below a paw. She crunched the metal into scraps between her jaws, twisting the other beneath a foot with just the slightest bit of magic sparking up to assist in the blade's destruction.

"What now?" Mim asked, letting the projectile fall from her lips. "Can't use your lightning on me. Can't use your ice on me. Can't use ANYTHING on me!"

Gritting his teeth, Batman darted sharply to the left, and Batgirl to the right. Mim spun in a circle as she transformed, remarking, "I've just realized we never set any rules! That means this move doesn't break ANY of them! What a waste!"

Batgirl was first rammed by the hard horns of a goat; she then cried out in pain as her forearm was seized in the sharp jaws of a lion's head biting down. Batman was wrapped up in a thick coil of flesh, a snake's head hovering dangerously close to him with fangs bared. "A chimera," Batman grunted.

Mim had indeed taken on a three-headed form, with lion and goat at one end and snake at another. "You sure know your animals!" the goat and snake head laughed in unison as the lion kept a hold on Batgirl. "I wouldn't move if I were you. Chimeras' snake heads are filled with the NASTIEST venom."

"I'll take my chances," Batman said as he reached for his belt – and hesitated. What exactly would make an actual impact upon Mim?

All this gave Roman enough time to fire at Robin one more time. Robin evaded as usual, but this put him in Snatcher's path, and the mallet connected hard with his head. The young boy collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Batman jammed a batarang's blade right into Mim's scaly skin, and she shrieked with all three heads, letting go of Batgirl. Batgirl slumped to her knees at first, tears welled up in her eyes as blood dripped from her arm. Batman looked from her to Robin and back, knowing what he had to do. First he rushed to Batgirl's uninjured side, standing her up. Then he propelled her forth so both could grab Robin.

"Starting to see the big picture yet?" Roman asked as his and Snatcher's weapons both turned on Batman, whose hands were now full with his two charges. "You sure did call it on us wanting you to come here."

"So you could kill us?" Batman growled.

"No," Roman said with a smirk. "Roman Torchwick. Archibald Snatcher. Mad Madam Mim. And even though they're not here…Ayam Aghoul. I shouldn't have to remind you about Firefly and Ragdoll."

"What are you talking about?"

"Our names," Roman emphasized. "We made sure Gotham's premier protector, possibly backed up by the local police force, would come down here to try and stop us. You would learn our faces, and, more importantly, you would learn our names. Now you can take this as a warning and you can go tell everyone our names and why we shouldn't be messed with."

"This was a publicity stunt," Batman grunted.

"That was only half the goal," Snatcher admitted. "We did actually desire the museum. The contents inside of it were more of a bonus. But now, we have a base of operations."

Batman gritted his teeth. "You'll never – "

Mim, in the form of an elephant once more, scooped him, Robin, and Batgirl all up in one roll of her trunk. "This game is starting to get boring."

"Take out the trash," Roman ordered.

Outside, as Yin tried to throw blow after blow at Ragdoll only for him to dance sprightly out of her way, he observed, "You actually are quite a doll, aren't you?"

"Stop flirting with the enemy, R.D.!" Firefly barked as he wrestled with Bennett.

"Me? Flirting?" Ragdoll replied as he balanced on his hands, sideswiping Yin with both legs. "You're the one who can't keep your hands off the ex-Clayface."

"Okay, point," Firefly admitted.

Aghoul had managed to chase Gordon to the point of knocking him down, holding his scythe high. Gordon was out of ammunition, having wasted it all trying to gun down a corpse, and flinched, putting his arm across his face to block his view. Aghoul brought down the scythe, planting it in the asphalt over Gordon's shoulder. "Show's over!" he proclaimed.

"Show's…over?" Gordon repeated.

"But first…" Identical skulls appeared in Aghoul's hands, and Gordon thought perhaps this was how Aghoul meant to deal the final blow. As he cried "BOMBS AWAY!", Firefly recognized the signal, abandoning Bennett to speed toward Ragdoll, pick him up, and carry him back toward the safety of the museum steps. Aghoul let both bombs fly: one at Bennett, one at Yin.

"NO!" Gordon yelled.

The bombs impacted just adjacently to both officers. As the six villains had agreed, the blows were nonfatal; they wanted as many witnesses as possible to be able to talk to Gotham about the influence of Roman Torchwick. However, the blasts did send both Ethan and Yin toppling to hit the asphalt hard, bruising and scraping.

Aghoul snapped his fingers; he'd gotten Gordon a good distance away from the museum steps, and in a glimmer of light, he teleported back to the stairs, where Firefly and Ragdoll were waiting for him. At the same time, the doors to the museum were flung open, and Batman, Batgirl, and Robin were tossed out at a high speed, landing on the pavement some distance away. Mim, now human again, marched out onto the steps to survey the damage done, nodding at the impacts left by the exploding skulls. "I do so love it when you're nasty," she told Aghoul, pulling him into a fierce and rough kiss that was almost enough to start his dead heart beating again.

Snatcher followed, and Roman took his place at the head of the crowd. "Remember, that's ROMAN TORCHWICK!" he yelled at the six downed heroes, who were starting to peel themselves up into standing positions. "Now let's put the finishing touch on this baby. Mim?"

Mim let Aghoul go, clapping her hands twice. A glowing ring of light appeared on the ground, encircling the museum, with Batman, Batgirl, Robin, Gordon, Yin, and Bennett on the outside. "Light 'em up, Firefly!" Mim commanded.

"Can't," Firefly grunted. "Both my fuel lines are shot."

"Well, that's anticlimactic," Ragdoll remarked.

Mim flicked her wrist toward Firefly; a burst of sparks surrounded his gauntlets, repairing the broken lines. "Not anymore, they're not!"

Firefly turned his wrists over, surveying Mim's work. "I could get used to this whole 'magic' thing," he commented. "Anyway, you know what they say. If you can't stand the heat…"

He blasted the glowing ring, which burst into a wall of steadily climbing flame that surrounded the museum, cutting it off from the rest of the city.

"Call for backup," Yin grunted. "If we get a helicopter force to come in from above – "

To accompany that, Batman's mind had turned to several flying vehicles in his possession he could utilize. However, the villains had planned for that. The fire climbed steadily until it was taller than the museum, then simply bent, connecting over top of it as a dome.

"Fire shouldn't do that," Bennett observed.

"They have to be using some kind of convection energy to…" Batman faltered. He didn't have a rational explanation for how a dome of fire could be created and maintained in its shape without collapsing on the museum within.

"Roman Torchwick," Gordon repeated. "That's a new name."

"And not one they're going to let us forget anytime soon," Yin added.

Inside the dome, Roman laughed. "Well, friends, welcome to our new stomping ground," he announced. "No one gets in or out unless we want them to. This is the center point for every crime we commit from here on out."

"Wonder how Penguin and Riddler like THESE apples," Firefly added.

"Not bad, for the new guy in town," Ragdoll told Roman, clapping him on the shoulder.

Roman shook his head. "I don't care where Mozenrath went or what he's doing right now. He can't POSSIBLY be doing anything more awesome than what we just pulled off."

...

The sun crested high over the ruins of the Ivory Tower. Since the great battle between Atreyu's rebels and Bastian Balthazar Bux's imperium, the residents of the Tower had been slowly rebuilding their homes and civilization in the metropolis-sized behemoth that was the Tower, every day wondering whether or not the Empress would return to her pavilion at its very summit. The once cheerful, bustling city had become a dreary and somber place due to this fact. Days were spent dedicated to rebuilding and awaiting, and little else.

It was an utter anomaly when the sound of joyous and regal music pierced the atmosphere of the tower. The builders abandoned their posts to get a better look at the procession that was creeping through the streets on the lower levels and making its way gradually upward.

It began with a band of Amarganthians playing a variety of musical instruments, most of which were unique to Fantastica and have never been found on any other world. Behind them came a league of dancers, leaping and twirling to the beat, sometimes in sync and sometimes each moving at their own pace but still somehow becoming a coordinated whole.

Beings of all sorts marched in line, proclaiming a single word in unison as they stormed down the streets of the Tower. It took observers a few listens to realize that the word, one they had never heard before, was "MOZENRATH!" Over and over they chanted his name, heralding his arrival.

They came in rags and in robes, in all shapes, sizes, and colors. Mozenrath, with Xayide to act as his silver tongue, had amassed quite the entourage, all of them willing to vouch for his filling in as the savior in the absence of Bastian. And most striking among the crowd was the contingent from the Land of Ghosts: the fearsome creatures known to lurk in shadows, now walking in broad daylight alongside their peers. It was a sight the denizens of the Tower had not seen before.

At the end of the procession came the personages of honor. Xayide had outfitted herself, Yzma, and the Huntsman with more elaborate clothing, though at the Huntsman's request, he still maintained his dragon-skull helmet, shielding his face from view. They went on foot before a piecemeal creature carved from Xayide's suits of armor; the beetle-like beings had, at Xayide's call, dismantled and remantled into a shape much larger than one simple suit: an enormous black metal beast with six limbs and a crudely wrought black iron throne upon its back. And borne upon this beast, nestled in the throne in a confident pose with one leg crossed over the other, was Mozenrath himself, decked out in a longer bejeweled cape that draped off the chair and spilled out across the iron beast's back.

At first, the Tower's residents merely watched as Mozenrath's parade ascended the white roads. They then realized that the entire spectacle had to be headed somewhere, and their destination was quite obviously the tower's summit and the Empress' pavilion. The Tower's citizens jumped into the fray, mingling with the parade, standing in a living wall in front of the iron vehicle to halt its progress.

As the iron carriage ceased its forward trundling and Xayide, Yzma, and the Huntsman stopped in their own tracks, Mozenrath glowered down at the people. "Is there a problem?" he asked.

"Who do you think you are?" one of them called back up at him. "Are you trying to replace the Empress?"
"In case you haven't noticed," Mozenrath informed the civilian, "the Empress isn't there to replace. I can't replace someone who's not there, now, can I?" He gave a dramatic shrug. "I just intend to fill an empty throne." He stood, waving his right hand so that a steep ramp of blue energy forged itself leading from the back of the iron vehicle down to the glittering white street. He then jumped onto the ramp, sliding down it to land with only a slight stumble before straightening up and brushing himself off; it took his new cape a few moments to settle behind him.

"YOU?" another cried out. "YOU intend to be our emperor?"

"That I do!" Mozenrath affirmed. "Oh, like we don't all know how much disrepair Fantastica is falling into without an emperor. I've heard all about your miserable little lives here waiting for the Empress to come back. Well, what if she never does come back? SOMEONE needs to rule this world, don't they?"
"And why should that be YOU?" another called out.

"Because I have plans for this world," Mozenrath insisted. "Plans to make it my very own – "
"Project to fix," Xayide broke in, stepping in front of Mozenrath. "To give each and every one of you exactly what you deserve! What you NEED! What you have gone without since the Empress' disappearance! The Ivory Tower shall be rebuilt, and your salvation shall be at its center!"

She and Mozenrath looked to each other. Mozenrath's glare very strongly emphasized that he would have liked to be allowed to speak to his public. Xayide's returned gaze very clearly informed him that she knew he was just going to talk about dominating Fantastica for his own self, and last time he tried to speak for himself, they ended up in a city-wide brawl. Nothing Mozenrath could say with his eyes could argue that point.

"All of these…er, creatures…have already joined Mozenrath to crusade for his ascension to the throne!" Yzma added. "Could ALL OF THEM be wrong?"
That point caused the Tower residents to talk amongst themselves, discussing the point. Surely that many people couldn't be wrong!

"Stand aside," Xayide commanded. "It is your emperor's coronation day, and he cannot be late for his own coronation. There is much work to do, and I suggest you do it."

"Says who?" someone yelled.

"Says Xayide, one of my three imperial advisors," Mozenrath clarified. "The other two will be Yzma and the Huntsman. An affront to any of them will be seen as an affront to me."
By now, the citizens of the Tower were divided. So many of them had been waiting for the Empress to return, and in her absence, it was good to see someone approaching the throne to take it, especially someone so confident. And hadn't Xayide been advisor to Bastian Balthazar Bux, the savior? So quickly they forgot that Bastian was the reason for the Battle of the Ivory Tower. But others were suspect. Mozenrath had not proven himself on any real field, and for all they knew, he was just a usurper taking advantage of the situation. Those who felt this way retreated into the alleys to plot.

Xayide gave directions to the Tower citizens, and soon, the entire Ivory Tower was redecorated to welcome Mozenrath as its figurehead. Black and blue streamers draped from every rooftop and across every street. Confetti in the same colors was thrown wherever the procession walked. Up above, near the pavilion, architects were hard at work creating the new throne, and the peacock-shaped chair awaited Mozenrath by the time the procession reached the apex. It sat exactly where Bastian's throne of mirrors had once rested.

Mozenrath, Xayide, the Huntsman, and Yzma approached the throne, surveying it. "You could not have provided something in the actual pavilion?" Xayide asked with derision.

"The way to the pavilion opens of its own accord," the architect explained meekly. "It would not open for us."

"We'll see about that." Mozenrath turned to see a pathway leading directly into a white wall. "I'm guessing it's…that way." He threw a bolt of magic at the wall; it was absorbed.

"I wouldn't…" Xayide said hushedly.

Mozenrath charged up a bigger, more powerful blast, launching it. This one bounced off the wall, flying right back at Mozenrath. He stepped just out of the way; his lengthy cape took the brunt of it, catching on bright blue fire. Quickly, embarrassedly, Mozenrath cast a rain of ice on the flames to douse them; his cape was left several feet shorter than it had been.

He heard giggles, and he rounded on the crowd that watched him. "YOU THINK I'M SOMETHING TO LAUGH AT?" he roared, drawing back his right hand.

Xayide gently lay her fingers on his wrist. "Not yet," she whispered to him. "Later, when they trust you, you can let your true colors show. But not yet."

He lowered the hand. "My apologies," he stated, attempting to brush the incident off. "Carry on."

"After all, we still need a coronation feast!" Yzma insisted. "I want cakes and pies of every kind! I want the finest roasted meat! I…" Her eyes widened. "…have just realized Archibald Snatcher isn't here. I WANT CHEESE ON EVERYTHING!"

Mozenrath sat back in his throne, watching as the people scurried to make preparations for the coronation. "I could get used to this," he remarked.

"You know, the rest of us could use chairs, too," Yzma grumbled.

"I, for one, am fine standing," the Huntsman insisted.

"You'll get chairs," Mozenrath promised. "Like Xayide said. Give them time for us to earn their trust, and then we can take anything and everything we want from them."

A messenger rushed toward the throne; "My lord! A band of rebels has formed in the lower levels of the tower! They claim you are a false savior! They come armed with weapons of all sorts so that they may kill you before you ascend to power! What should we – "

At that moment, Gaya strode in, interrupting: "Lord Mozenrath. I hear there is a slight…disturbance gathering below. Would you like me and my army to take care of it for you?"

"As a matter of fact, I would," Mozenrath told Gaya.

Gaya nodded. "Then it will be done." She turned and stalked from the area.

Mozenrath, Yzma, the Huntsman, and Xayide rushed to a balcony to peer over at the scene down below. A fairly sized resistance had already gathered, bearing swords, shields, spears, and even pitchforks. "I've been here for half an hour and I already have a coup d'etat after my head," Mozenrath sighed. "I'm going to take this as a sign that I'm doing something right."

"The monsters are mobilizing as well," the Huntsman observed; the creatures from the Land of Ghosts came with their own weapons, sharp and oddly angled blades, to counter the rebels. The battle was short, and the white streets of the Tower were soon stained with blood, though there had not been a single casualty on the side of the army of the Land of Ghosts. All those who had wished to assassinate Mozenrath lay dead.

"And you didn't even have to lift a finger," Xayide observed.

"I could REALLY get used to this!" Mozenrath proclaimed with a broad smile.

...

Aladdin, Jasmine, Sadira, Genie, the Sultan, Ruby, Stork, Papyrus, Kairi, Jaune, Nora, Ren, Nick, Madison, Vida, Chip, Xander, Luna, and Cadance stood in silence in the courtyard for a moment, trying to think of how best to go about their invasion of the Black Sands. Their collective train of thought was interrupted by the arrival of Sora, Riku, and Mog charging in at full speed, holding sizeable bundles under their arms as Sora yelled "SURPRIIIIIIISE!"

"SORA!" everyone yelled. "RIKU!"

"And Mog, too!" Sora insisted with a grin.

"We didn't know you'd be coming here!" Kairi said happily.

"The weapons got finished up ahead of schedule," Riku announced. "Take a look."

The bundles were unwrapped, and the new weapons spread out. "Is this…mine?" Kairi asked as she approached her new sword, picking it up and giving it a couple experimental swings.

"You bet it is!" Sora confirmed. "And…this one's for Jaune." He held out the new Crocea Mors, now adorned with Pyrrha's headband.

Jaune took the sword and shield into hand reverently. "Thanks," he said softly.

"Hmm…" Xander picked up and swung his new axe. "Different from a staff, but I could get used to this."

Nora swung the rebuilt Magnhild round and round. "Works like a dream, baby!"

"So this means you've definitely given up on the shuriken?" Yuffie teased.

"Who needs shuriken when you've got this powerhouse?" Nora replied, holding Magnhild out. "Wanna give it a shot?"
Yuffie took the hammer in hand and immediately stumbled from its weight. "Wha – how strong ARE you?"

"Well, I CAN bench five of me," Nora bragged.

"Hey, look." Vida picked up her own sword, handing over Madison's as well. "We match."

"We're sword sisters," Madison observed. "Though…" She gave a glance over to Nick, who held up a similar sword adorned with red. "Does this make Nick our brother, too?"
"I think my family life's complicated enough," Nick replied.

Ren simply took Stormflower into hand, weighed it, and smiled in satisfaction before holstering it.

"THIS IS GREAT!" Papyrus cheered. "NOW THAT EVERYONE HAS A WEAPON, WE CAN MAKE A BETTER PLAN FOR THE BLACK SANDS!"
"What's the Black Sands?" Sora asked.

"Where Mozenrath used to live," Kairi explained.

"But now, it's apparently Maleficent's territory," Aladdin interrupted, stepping forward with a grin. "By the way, were you just going to run in here without saying hello to the rest of us?"

"Long time no see, Aladdin!" Sora laughed. "Good to see you too, Jasmine! Genie!"

"And it's as good to see you as ever," Jasmine replied. "Riku, too."

Riku just nodded, pleased to have been mentioned.

"Welcome home, boys!" Genie greeted in a high-pitched voice. "We've had a pie hot in the oven waiting for you!" He produced from thin air a steamingly warm apple pie, which Sora took with a laugh.

"You seem to be doing fine here, kupo!" Mog announced. "And I have work to do, so I'm going to take off! Does anyone need a ride back?"
"We'll catch a ride with Cid," Riku assured Mog. "Thanks for everything."

"No problem, kupo!" With that, the tiny Moogle was off in a flutter.

Riku turned back to the group. "So why are we planning to invade one of Maleficent's new strongholds?"
"Even," Kairi answered sternly. "He might still be alive. And if he is, we can't just leave him. He might be here."

"I don't know…" Riku replied, thinking back to how Vexen had tormented him in the halls of Castle Oblivion. Then he shook away the thought. That was in the past; Even was part of the Restoration Committee now, or so he thought. Riku knew he shouldn't let petty grudges stand in the way of wanting to rescue someone who meant so much to Kairi. All the same, something was starting to not quite ring true about the whole affair. Why was Even the hardest prisoner of Maleficent to find? Was there more going on than met the eye?

"Sounds like a plan!" Sora insisted. "We're more than strong enough to take on Maleficent by now!"

"It might not be Maleficent at all," Jasmine clarified. "Razoul reported that Jafar and Hades were running the Black Sands. They talked to Maleficent by magic, but we're not sure that she's actually there."

"Hades and Jafar?" Sora scoffed. "I've beaten those guys a bunch of times! We can take 'em easy!"

"Good," Stork broke in. "That means we can finally get payback. We go to the Black Sands, we get Kairi's friend back, and we make sure those two Maleficent lackeys never bother us again."

"HOW ARE WE GOING TO DO THAT?" Papyrus asked, genuinely confused.

"You know," Stork attempted to clarify. "Take care of them."

"WHY WOULD WE WANT TO TAKE CARE OF THEM? THEY HAVEN'T BEEN VERY NICE TO US."

Stork sighed. He then drew a finger across his neck, making a choking sound.

Papyrus flinched. "YOU MEAN WE…KILL THEM?"

"For all I know, that's what they did to Aerrow, Junko, and Radarr," Stork reminded him. "They need to go DOWN."

"BUT…" Papyrus replied, fretting.

"But WHAT?" Stork hissed.

"BUT IF WE DO THAT, THEN WE NEVER GIVE THEM A CHANCE TO DO ANY BETTER," Papyrus insisted. "WHAT IF THEY CHANGE ONE DAY? IT STILL ISN'T TOO LATE FOR THEM."

"Hades and Jafar won't change," Riku insisted. "We've fought them for too long. We know who they are and what they do."

"ESPECIALLY Jafar," Aladdin emphasized. "I'm not opposed to getting rid of HIM for good. I thought we did that already last time, anyway."
"BUT…" Papyrus tried to argue. "IT…DOESN'T FEEL…RIGHT."

"DOESN'T FEEL RIGHT?" Jaune snapped, rounding on Papyrus. "These people – or gods or genies or whatever they are – they're murderers! If I ever met the person who killed Pyrrha again, I wouldn't hold back!" His gaze hardened. "And I might never meet the person who killed Pyrrha, so they'll have to do."

"Jaune," Cadance reminded him, "I know how you feel, but they AREN'T the ones who killed Pyrrha. They've done equally terrible things, but they aren't the ones you're angry at."

"I'm GOING to be angry at them!" Jaune insisted. "If we let them keep going like they're going, then one day, they ARE going to destroy something I care about! What if it's Kairi? What if it's Ruby or Ren or Nora?"

"Maybe I shouldn't speak, since I made sure Sombra didn't exist anymore," Cadance brought up. "But I don't know if it's right to kill them either. I've always believed that love was more powerful than hate. Maybe it's time we started acting like we all believed that. Besides, there was a time when everypony in Equestria thought Luna was just as terrible of a monster and wanted her to be gone forever. But because we treated her with harmony instead of hate, we gave her another chance to be Luna again."

"For which I am ever grateful," Luna admitted. "We may lose further to our foes. What we must ask is if we wish to become like them and where we wish to draw our lines."

"Jaune and Stork are right," Riku insisted. "If we let Jafar and Hades go free, they will give us a reason to regret it later."

"I would agree," Jasmine spoke up, "but do we want to make killers out of Cadance and Papyrus if they believe there's a better way?"

"Good point," Sora mused. "I can see where you're all coming from."

"It might not even be something we need to discuss," Aladdin pointed out. "Sure, there are enough of us to give them a good fight. But we know they're tough, and they have the Heartless and Mamluks with them, too. It might be smarter if we do this quietly. Keep our weapons on us in case things go wrong…but see if we can get in and out without being noticed in the first place."

"That does sound like the smarter plan," Riku admitted. "We can take care of our unfinished business with Jafar and Hades later. Right now, this is about Even."

"And it ISN'T about the Condor?" Stork argued. "About Aerrow? About Junko? And what about Finn? Sure, he's okay, but BARELY!"

"Stork," Jasmine said softly, "I'm so sorry about what happened to all of your friends. And we should do whatever we can to make it right. But if it turns out we can't win this fight, getting into it might cause us to lose more people. Like you."

"Maybe that wouldn't be so bad," Stork muttered. "If it was just me, I mean."

"WOULDN'T BE BAD?" Papyrus gasped. "BUT…YOU'RE OUR FRIEND! LOSING YOU WOULD BE TERRIBLE! PLEASE DON'T SAY THINGS LIKE THAT!"

Stork looked at Papyrus to see actual tears pooling in the base of his skull's sockets. "Forget I said that," he said softly. "Jasmine's right. We can't lose anybody else. Sneaking in it is." Though really, he thought, the more time he spent around all of the others, the more he realized it was the rest of them he didn't want to lose. Someone as innocent as Papyrus shouldn't have to be put under that risk.

"We've snuck into the Black Sands before," Jasmine insisted. "We can do it again."

"With this many people?" Nick asked.

"The more, the merrier," Aladdin insisted. "Besides, if there are Heartless running around everywhere like Razoul said, we'll need a lot of power on our side."

"Hate to burst your bubble, Al," Genie reminded him, "but Mozenrath still had those magic-detecting crystals up all over the place. And most everyone here is magical!"

"So we find a way around them," Aladdin insisted. "It won't be that hard."

"And you better not be thinking about leaving me behind this time," Sadira added.

"If we've got a plan," Sora stated, "then let's go for it!"

...

Roman and Snatcher celebrated their victory over Gotham's most infamous protector by taking a stroll through the newly conquered art museum, admiring the pieces within. "It's almost like a date normal people go on," Roman had remarked.

"Goodness knows we don't have very many of those," Snatcher agreed.

Neither of them really had an eye for layered meaning or nuance of color and shape, but they both seemed to agree on what basically looked pretty or, more importantly, valuable. "I'd put this one in my living room," Roman said of a painting of several well-dressed people in a park. He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder toward the abstract jumble of oddly colored shapes in the painting behind him. "That one is more material to hang over the toilet."

"I absolutely concur," Snatcher said with a nod, "though were I to pick something to grace the most prominent room in the house, I might instead lean toward…" He stepped a few paces down the hall, Roman following eagerly behind. "This one." It was a depiction of a garden, no people, simply an array of flowers and a few insects.

"Nice!" Roman commented. He turned to look Snatcher directly in the eye; "Maybe I should hire you to be my interior deco – " He blinked, noticing for the first time the bruise that crossed Snatcher's nose from where Batgirl had landed her fist. The bleeding had stopped a while ago, but Snatcher's face was now sporting a lovely patch of purple. "I…don't remember you getting hit there."

"What, this?" Snatcher gestured to the bruise. "It's nothing. Casualty of war."

"Yeah," Roman said with a somber nod. "You…remember that night I had you find all my scars?"

"Quite well, Torchwick. Couldn't forget that one if I wanted." Snatcher smirked broadly. "And that's a compliment."

"Yeah, well…you do remember what I said to you about you ending up with a few of those of your own if you got mixed up with me and what I do, right?"

"Torchwick, if I didn't know you better, I'd say you were actually worried for me."

"It's not like that," Roman insisted.

"Then elaborate," Snatcher bade him.

"Um." Roman paused, trying to think of a plausible excuse.

"I assure you, Torchwick," Snatcher said with a sly smile, "I can take quite good care of myself. Now, if I have to worry about you fretting at every moment – "

"You won't," Roman insisted. "If you're good, I'm good."

"I can take a few bumps and bruises in exchange for a greater victory," Snatcher went on. "Scars as well, if it comes down to it. And all the sweeter if I'm to split that victory with someone deserving." He looked Roman directly in the eye. "That's you, to be clear."

"You flatter me."

"I'm only repaying you in kind."

Roman leaned forward just enough to lightly ghost his lips over Snatcher's facial bruise. "I'm good, I swear," he emphasized.

"Yes. Yes, you are."

"Uh, guys?" Garfield interrupted from down the hall; he'd temporarily shelved his battle armor for ease of maneuverability. "Thought you should know we've got company. Actually, good company."

Roman and Snatcher both turned to address him. "What've we got, Pyro-Bro?" Roman asked.

"Mim helped me rig up the cameras to be able to survey outside the fire dome," Garfield explained. "And it turns out there's a friend of Peter's and mine waiting outside it. Word really musta gotten around about us."

"Well, then," Snatcher decided, "let's meet this friend of yours. Perhaps he can be of assistance to us."

"It's a 'she,' actually," Garfield clarified. "And I think you're gonna like her. She is DEFINITELY gonna help us."

In a moment, Mim, Aghoul, Roman, Snatcher, Garfield, and Peter were gathered just inside the border of fire. "Open it up," Garfield bade Mim.

Mim waved her hand, and a doorway-sized arch appeared in the flames, just enough to let someone through. From the other side, a young woman dressed in a red-and-black jester's costume scowled at the group.

"HARLEY!" Peter greeted, throwing out his arms. "Now THIS is a pleasant surprise!"

Harley Quinn stormed inside the barrier, crossing to Peter in a few quick steps before slapping him across the face.

"I thought you said she was on our side…?" Roman remarked. He'd brought the Cudgel just in case things got ugly, and his grip on it tightened.

"HEY!" Garfield stormed toward Harley, seizing her wrists before she could make another move against Peter. "What got INTO you, Harls?"

"What's got into ME?" Harley snapped her wrists back against Garfield's thumbs, breaking his grip. "What's got into YOU! I know whatcha did! I thought we was friends! I thought we had an AGREEMENT!" She began to sob through her yells of anger. "I knew ya never liked Mr. J. I knew it! And I knew you thought I could do better! But I never thought you'd go that far!"

"How far did we go, exactly?" Peter asked. "I'm rather lost."

"DON'T PLAY DUMB WITH ME!" Harley shrieked. "YOU KILLED MY PUDDIN'! WHO ELSE WOULD STRANGLE HIM AND THEN SET THE BUILDIN' ON FIRE? Only thing I can't explain is how ya shot him through the chest. But I don't NEED to know that, 'cause the rest of the murder had ya written all over it!"

"Okay, lady," Roman said, gesturing with the Cudgel, "I don't know what your problem is, but you need to calm your – "

Harley screamed as soon as she got a good look at the Cudgel, surprising Roman into silence. She then regained composure. "This your friend?" she asked.

"Yeah," Garfield confirmed. "Listen, Harls, we didn't – "

"And THAT'S his weapon?" Harley continued, pointing at the Cudgel accusingly.

"Harley," Peter attempted, "you really must believe us when we say we did NOT kill Joker. Not that we're not quite glad he's gone, but – "

"DON'T LIE TO ME!" Harley screamed. "Peter, ya strangled him. Your new friend blasted him through the chest with that THING. And Gar, ya set our place on fire to get rid of he body!"

"That is NOT – " Peter and Garfield barked at the same time.

"I DON'T WANNA HEAR IT!" Harley raged. "As of right now, we are OVER! Our friendship is DONE! There's nothin' between us anymore, and I ain't never workin' with either of you or your new friends again!"

"Harley," Peter insisted, "ask yourself why either of us would lie to you about this."

That gave Harley pause.

"Though, really," Garfield pointed out, "all our lives are gonna be WAY easier with that guy dead."

"Almost makes you wish we had done it, doesn't it?" Peter agreed.

Harley gave a wordless scream, turning on a heel and charging back through the arch in the flames.

"Oh, well," Roman said with a shrug, lifting the Cudgel to point it at Harley. "THAT was a bust – "

"NO!" Peter and Garfield both leapt, tackling Roman to the ground before he could shoot.

"Geez!" Roman hissed. "She just practically declared war on us! And you still want her alive?"

"She's a FRIEND," Garfield insisted.

"Was a friend," Peter corrected.

"What's the story on this 'Joker' fellow, anyway?" Aghoul asked.

"Long story we'll tell you later," Garfield promised. "For now, just be glad he's not around to stand in our way. That guy's already given us enough grief."

Mim covered up the archway in flame as soon as Harley had run through. "Oh, well," she remarked with a shrug. "Back to business!"

"Yeah," Garfield sighed, getting up; Peter and Roman did the same. "Back to business."

Garfield and Peter both trudged back to the museum with a lot less spring in their step than usual.

"Can somebody explain to me WHAT just happened?" Roman yelled.

"If I didn't know better," Snatcher mused, "I'd say someone just attempted to frame us for a crime."

"We have been here for a DAY!" Roman emphasized. "We can't ALREADY have an enemy!"

As he, Snatcher, Mim, and Aghoul moved toward the museum, all Aghoul had to offer was "Famous last words."