32. Losing Minds
Mozenrath's reign over Fantastica was soon widely publicized, with mixed results across the wide expanse of nations. Many were relieved to have a new emperor to fill the shoes of the Empress, no matter what form he came in, and they put their trust in him blindly; Xayide's way with words went a long way to further Mozenrath's popularity. Others were suspicious, and more riots broke out as the apt skeptics crusaded against the man that they saw for what he truly was: a usurper. However, Mozenrath's supporters outnumbered and outclassed the rebels, and these riots usually ended in rebel blood spilled. Mozenrath was becoming the face of Fantastica.
Xayide, the Huntsman, and Yzma had taken up thrones of their own in other parts of the palace. Xayide was in charge of public relations and diplomacy, as had been her role from the very start. The Huntsman offered his services as an exterminator of beasts, which was seen as a welcome service among Mozenrath supporters and as a blatant sign of hatred among those who called luckdragons and other such creatures their friends. And Yzma was given full charge of hearing out complaints, which went as well as could be expected.
"How dare you trouble the emperor's advisory with such trivial questions as…" She leaned forward in her golden throne studded with amethyst, eyeing up the woman before her. "What was it, again?"
"How to lower the crime rate in the Ivory Tower," the woman reiterated. "Especially pickpocketing."
Yzma waved a hand. "The Huntsman will just kill all the vampires. It'll be fine."
"But…I'm a vampire…"
"Tick tock, time's up! I'm a busy woman, you know. NEXT!" Yzma shooed the vampire out of her audience chamber with a two-handed wave; a pair of surly minotaur guards escorted the hapless vampire away.
Mozenrath, Yzma, the Huntsman, and Xayide met for dinner at the end of a long, polished white table at which an array of delectable-smelling food was served. "I take it my lord is enjoying his time as emperor?" Xayide checked in. "I can't imagine you should want for much. You have fine food, a comfortable lifestyle, and almost unlimited power."
"Life is pretty good, isn't it?" Mozenrath replied before tearing into a roasted bird of a variety not found in his homeworld.
"Is the Ivory Tower to be our new base of operation?" the Huntsman asked. "Have we outright replaced the warship, or is the warship to remain a backup in case this base should fail?"
"The Ivory Tower won't fail," Mozenrath insisted. "Haven't you heard about how many rebels have already TRIED to stand against us? And they've been cut down without us having to lift a finger."
"So I suppose it's only a matter of time before we bring Wuya, Snatcher, Torchwick, Mim, Aghoul, and the rest," Yzma commented. "Provided the culture shock isn't too much for them."
Mozenrath looked at her in genuine confusion. "Who and who?"
Xayide dropped her fork in horror.
"You can't be serious," Yzma replied, deadpan. "Only the allies we've worked with from the very start of this escapade."
Mozenrath blinked. Now things were becoming clearer. "Right," he said, a little shocked that he'd apparently lapsed. "I say we give it a little more time. Extend our reach a little more before we spring our new conquest on the rest of them. Besides, half of them probably ended up going on some other quest in the farthest world you can imagine from here."
"I wouldn't doubt that," the Huntsman affirmed.
"Xayide?" Yzma asked, looking to the redheaded witch. "Are you quite all right?"
Xayide had frozen, her face gone bloodless. Perhaps it was some mental condition Mozenrath had since youth that had caused his lapse. It couldn't have been what usually happened to humans who took the throne of Fantastica. He didn't have AURYN. That was the cornerstone of why Xayide thought the plan would truly work. Without AURYN, there should have been no memory loss, as he wouldn't have been trading in memories to build new stories for himself. She had been confident. And yet he had simply forgotten, for a few moments, his closest allies.
Or perhaps she was reading too much into it.
"As a matter of fact, I am quite all right," she stated, calmly rising from the table. "However, there is much to do, and little time. I shall get started on tomorrow's agendas." What she really intended to do was find her old comfort, her water pipe, and smoke until her nerves calmed. For nerves had begun to act up indeed when Mozenrath had his little slight. She made haste to escape the dining room.
Yzma jabbed a thumb over her shoulder at the retreating Xayide. "Was that strange to anyone else?"
"Very," Mozenrath admitted. "But I don't see a need for us to go jumping at shadows unless she starts acting weird all the time. As much as I hate to say it, I don't think we could have gotten this far without her."
"I must agree," the Huntsman concurred.
"Have we adopted her?" Yzma wondered out loud.
"Basically," Mozenrath said with a nod. "Probably the best choice we could have gotten out of this world."
"The others will certainly mesh well with her," the Huntsman observed.
The others. Mozenrath recounted their names in his head, the way Yzma had said them, and matched up those names to faces. Wuya. Archibald Snatcher. Roman Torchwick. Mim. Ayam Aghoul. And…the woman with the tri-colored hair. The girl who read bad poetry. A strongman, perhaps? Was there an archer? Were the lower laboratories built for someone besides Yzma?
But the way the faces blurred together and drifted off like items lost in the deep ocean didn't matter to Mozenrath. He felt confident, serene. He didn't need to remember everything, he thought, so long as he had power over all of Fantastica. He went back to systematically destroying his dinner.
...
While Gotham's premier art museum had become a den of thieves, its history museum was silently becoming emptier. Several valuable ancient coins had somehow found their way outside their displays and into Ragdoll's pockets.
The limber thief snaked his way through the ventilation system, departing once he'd found the building's exterior and rolling across the street in the form of a wheel until he reached a school bus. "Compliments of the WHAM ARMY," he muttered, giving the history museum one last look before starting up the bus down a predetermined course.
From there forward, it went exactly like clockwork.
The cashier working the eighth lane at the grocery store hurriedly stuffed the contents of her till into a plastic bag, the Melodic Cudgel pointed directly at her face so that she quivered in anxiety the whole while.
"Don't drop the bag with those shaky hands," Roman commanded.
"I'm trying not to!" the cashier squeaked.
Behind Roman, the cashier of lane seven, which he'd already emptied out, was attempting to slink away. He bumped into a neatly stacked pyramid of canned fruit, knocking a single aluminum container to the floor with a clunk.
"Did I SAY YOU COULD LEAVE?" Roman spun, firing the Cudgel directly at the pyramid. Chunks of fruit, slimy syrup, and metal shrapnel flew outward in a tumult. He turned backward to the cashier he had been intimidating: "Please continue."
The last of the money was wrapped in the bag and handed over. Roman slung it over his other arm, which was already carrying the other seven bags full of cash. "Compliments of the WHAM ARMY!" he called out with a smile, turning and bolting out the sliding doors. The school bus came to a screeching halt in front of the store for only a minute; Roman skipped up its steps, and Ragdoll took off at top speed. Roman then settled himself into the first available seat, setting his grocery bags of money down on the leather seat opposite him in the aisle.
Inside a bank vault, Mim materialized, taking in the sight of the walls lined with safe deposit boxes. With a wave of Mim's hand, every single lock popped open. "I've always hated having too much money," she lamented to herself as she set her magical purse on the ground in the center of the floor. "They may SAY money can't buy happiness, but they're wrong." Bills, coins, and other assorted valuables poured out of the boxes and into the purse, which opened out into its vast expanse of extradimensional space to hold it all. "Money does lead to happiness. And I hate too much HAPPINESS! It makes me sick, sick, SICK! But if that's what the others want, I'll play their game." The vault was empty, and the purse cinched. "But we better get to destroy something to make up for this!"
Mim picked up the purse, attaching it at her waist; it felt as light as if it were empty. "Compliments of the WHAM ARMY, of course," she muttered. She then teleported outside the bank, where the school bus was just pulling in. She marched aboard, taking the seat behind Roman.
Firefly's audition mission for Team Penguin, once upon a time, saw him breaking into a heavily guarded facility to upload blackmail material onto a flash drive. He had decided to give an encore performance, working a database that contained secrets Gotham's elite would have preferred stayed hidden. The data was now more aptly contained on an external hard drive rather than a thumb-sized device. Firefly remained mostly undisturbed through his download until its very completion.
That was when a pair of security guards barreled into the room to find him detaching the device. "HEY!" one of them barked as both went for their guns.
"Aren't you that Mosquito guy?" the other asked.
"No, no, no, he changed his name after that accident," the first corrected. "He's Nitrogen now."
"Okay, I have SEVERAL complaints, but I know how to pick my battles," Firefly replied. "For now, just know this is compliments of the WHAM ARMY." He raised both gauntlets, outdrawing the guards and blasting their guns from their hands before setting the carpet ablaze and jetting out the hole he'd carved in the wall, flying right onboard the school bus.
The blade of Aghoul's scythe hacked directly into the lid of a newly unearthed coffin. The coffin itself was expertly crafted, very valuable, but, knowing he had no way to transport it, Aghoul saw no problem in defacing it, the same way he'd defaced thirteen others throughout the night; some preliminary research had led him to the graves most likely to yield a reward. Aghoul pried away the remains of the lid to reveal the decomposed remains of a woman. "Well, you're a pretty thing," he remarked. "But not as pretty as this." He grasped the sapphire necklace wrapped around her neck and pulled it free. "Compliments of the WHAM ARMY, gorgeous!"
The school bus honked, and Aghoul hurried aboard. "Graverobbing?" Roman asked him once he'd boarded. "Seriously? You're too predictable sometimes, you know that?"
"I'm aware," Aghoul replied cavalierly before taking his own seat.
Finally, Snatcher was deep in conversation with the owner of a jewelry boutique downtown. "So you HAVE heard of Torchwick," he said with a smile.
"The guy who took over the museum and built that impossible fire wall?" the owner replied. "Everyone's talking about him!"
"All I'm saying is that a nice place like this, well-stocked with fineries…well, it's the sort of place Torchwick would take an interest in," Snatcher pointed out. "Sooner or later, he'll sniff it out. And when he does, you can be sure he'll bring all manner of guns and explosives to get what he wants. I'm not so sure you'd walk away from that encounter alive."
"You're working with him, aren't you?" the owner realized. "You came to deliver a threat!"
"Not deliver a threat," Snatcher corrected, grinning ever more slyly. "Propose a deal. Torchwick will leave you alone if you give him enough incentive. As his official go-between, I can pass your name along with said incentive."
"You're scum," the owner spat as he opened up the till, handing over the stacks of bills.
"And you still have your head and all your limbs intact," Snatcher reminded the man, taking the bills in hand and thumbing through them. "They'll stay that way for this. If you feel a need to complain, kindly do remember that. Compliments of the WHAM ARMY, of course."
He strode confidently from the shop just as the bus halted to allow him passage. Once he was aboard, the bus made right for the Romano Museum.
"Why a bus, anyway?" Roman asked.
"Because Peter can never drive anything normal," Firefly answered. "We USED to commit most of our crimes out of an ice cream truck before it got carjacked by Joker. Then we switched it up to a cement mixer, but…"
"But that wouldn't have held all of us," Ragdoll informed the group. "I needed something with more storage space. Besides, acquiring it was incredibly satisfying."
"How DID you get a school bus, anyway?" Firefly asked. "This seems more like a Joker kind of getaway car. Like something he killed a bunch of kids to get. Did you kill a bunch of kids while I wasn't looking?"
"Who, me?" Ragdoll replied. "Of course not. Now, that's a highly likely theory as to how Joker got this bus. I merely hotwired it when it was left unattended."
"Wait," Firefly said with realization. "This is LITERALLY JOKER'S BUS?"
"WAS Joker's bus. It's ours now. Fitting payback for the ice cream truck, no?"
"We would be so dead if he were still alive to find out," Firefly muttered.
"So if I understand you correctly about this Joker," Roman recapitulated, "he was the top dog of crime in this city, right?"
"Pretty much," Firefly confirmed.
"And we are riding around in stolen property that belongs to him," Roman emphasized. "I can't think of a better way to kick off our quest to replace him as Gotham's new crime lords."
"Now, WAIT," Firefly interjected. "When we took this job, replacing Joker was NOT in the cards."
"You did not just…" Snatcher sighed, lowering his head into a palm.
"Didn't just what?" Firefly asked.
"Joker," Ragdoll pointed out. "Not in the CARDS."
"That wasn't even on purpose," Firefly replied. "I'm actually kinda proud of myself for that one. But you realize this puts a big ol' target on our backs, right? If we want to be on top, we're going to have to fight Penguin for it. And Riddler. And…" He gave a defeated sigh, really not wanting to even mention the last obstacle. "Probably Mr. Freeze."
"You think we can't take whatever's waiting to fill Joker's clown shoes?" Mim huffed, arms crossed. "I almost made batcakes out of all three of those silly costumed crusaders!"
"We let them live to make a STATEMENT, remember?" Aghoul added.
"We're pros at this," Roman emphasized. "I think I even killed a guy tonight by having a bunch of cans of fruit explode on him. That was fun."
"Let the next crime lord in line come knock on our door," Snatcher concluded. "If he can get through our wall of flame to reach it in the first place. We'll show him a thing or two."
"Call me crazy…" Firefly began.
"You're an ex-Arkham inmate," Ragdoll reminded him. "We already know you're crazy."
"But I actually buy that between the six of us, we can actually become the bosses of Gotham," Firefly finished. "We have an entire museum surrounded by a giant wall of fire. You think Penguin, Freeze, OR Riddler has that kind of cred?"
"Maybe they'll actually get your name right on the news," Ragdoll suggested.
Roman leaned back in his seat. "Your move, Gotham criminal underworld. Your move."
...
As Roman spoke, a massive airship passed overhead, its exterior made invisible by the powers of magic so no one would be able to point it out and call foul play. Most spectators would have thought it to be another toy of Maximillian Zeus anyway. Those people could hardly have been less wrong.
"You really weren't kidding when you said you could provide ANYTHING, were you?" Joker remarked, looking around the floating fortress.
"Thank the military of Remnant for this little gift," Maleficent told him. "It should serve your ends well."
"It better," Joker grumbled. "After all, not all of us can blow up an entire street just by waving a stick in the air."
"Do not speak to me so callously," Maleficent warned. "I still have yet to see whether you prove worthy of my being your benefactor."
"Hold your horses, will you?" Joker retorted. "You'll see soon enough. But first, I'm waiting on your bird to get back to me with the news."
On cue, there was a tap at the front windshield; the airship's magic didn't cloak it from the raven Diablo, who was able to view it clearly. Diablo pecked the windshield a few times until he was certain he had the attention of both Joker and Maleficent, then gave a caw.
"It seems this world's version of your…tragically disposable minion has been found," Maleficent announced.
"Really?" Joker was skeptical. "You got all of that out of 'Awk!'?"
Diablo bristled; the inflection Joker had put upon his raven impression was actually a rather offensive statement in his language.
In a back alley, Harley leaned against the brick wall, sobbing. She had fully intended to drown her sorrows in crime: rob a store or two. But her heart simply wasn't in it, and she knew if she tried, she'd just get sloppy and end up hauled off to Arkham once more. She barely noticed the dark bird that circled overhead and was only brought out of her state of distraction by a lilting voice: "Oh, come now, stop all that crying. Put a smile on that face, will you?"
"Huh?" Harley looked up to see two figures approaching her from the other end of the alley. The one taking up the rear of the pair, she felt a chill just from looking at: the woman's sheer height not counting her ominously horned headdress, the flowing black robe, the way she clutched in one hand a staff that let out a faint enough glow for Harley to see that the woman's skin was almost green. When she looked at the man who stood between them, however, Harley simply became angry. "What…do ya think…you're WEARIN'?"
"Oh, this old thing?" Joker replied, gesturing up and down the length of his body. "I know, I know. So last year. But I never did care for high fashion."
Harley reached into a bag at her side, clutching a heart-shaped grenade tightly. "You think this is some kinda joke?"
"You're kidding with that question, right?" Joker spread his arms wide. "Harley Quinn, I've come to ask you to work for me!"
"Work with someone who impersonated my puddin', right after he got bumped off?" Harley very nearly pitched the grenade then and there. "…Hey, wait a tick. How'd you know my name?"
"That's right," Joker realized. "You wouldn't know about that, would you? See, I may not be YOUR Joker. But I am THE Joker. In fact, I would argue that I'm the better Joker. You said your Joker was murdered?" He shook his head dramatically. "Pity. Perhaps he would have been a kindred spirit."
Maleficent smiled slightly.
"I don't know what the heck you're talkin' about," Harley said cautiously, still refusing to relinquish her hold on the grenade. "There's only one Mr. J…well…there was…and he was – "
"Oh, I know, I know," Joker interrupted. "In THIS Gotham, he was the clown prince of crime. Whereas in MY Gotham, that honor went to ME."
"Your…Gotham?"
"Surely you didn't think this was the only Gotham there was?" Joker continued. "You've never indulged in a little parallel universe theory?"
Harley shook her head. "You're talkin' crazy. Almost crazy enough to actually be him."
"I assure you, it's true!" Joker insisted. "Show her, Leffy!"
Maleficent's smile faded, and she refused to make a move.
Joker gave a drawn-out sigh. "My apologies, Mistress of All Evil Maleficent. IF it pleases you, show Harley the truth."
"The Joker speaks truly," Maleficent stated, gripping her staff with both hands. Its orb glowed a little more brightly, and behind her opened several portals that acted as windows, showing the skylines of several cities that, upon first glance, looked to be quite different.
"Look familiar?" Joker asked.
"Wha…" Harley stepped closer to the portals.
"Ah, ah, ah!" Joker wagged a finger. "Look, but don't touch! Not unless you want to be pitched out into the sky of one of these other worlds. Then where am I supposed to get a helping hand?"
Though the geography of each was a little different, Harley began to recognize common landmarks between each skyline. "Are those…all Gotham?"
"Indeed," Maleficent confirmed. "Just as these are all the city of Metropolis."
The portals quivered, then shifted to views of cities that were much brighter and more streamlined, each unique but all obviously built on the same basic design.
"…This can't be real," Harley breathed. "This's gotta be some kinda street magic. You're usin' holograms!"
"Well, believe me whether or not you want to," Joker said as the portals all disappeared from behind Maleficent. "The fact is, I came here from somewhere very far away with the intent to be the Joker, and it seems I've shown up just in time to fill a vacant slot. Now all I need is a Harley of my very own."
"Didn't you have your own Harley where you came from?" Harley asked. "What…happened to her?"
"Oh, that's…" Not important. He hadn't even considered where his original sidekick might be. "…a grisly story, really. Shouldn't be told. What matters now is that I have you, and you have me! You seem like a far better Harley, anyhow. And you really can't argue that I'm a much better Joker than what you had."
"I can argue that all day," Harley insisted.
"You barely know me!"
"And YOU barely know ME, so how d'ya know I'm the better Harley here?"
"I understand it must have been hard for you," Joker went on, deciding to switch tactics. "Living in the shadow of the other Joker."
"I didn't live in his shadow! We were a team!"
"Oh, it seems I'm putting my foot in my mouth all over the place!" Joker said dramatically. "He really must have valued you. I know I felt that way about my Harley before the…accident. I always let her pick the next crime we were about to do, let her take the reins, listened to what she had to say, and oh, did she ever have the most beautiful voice! I loved her like no one else. I imagine your relationship with your 'Mr. J.' was much the same. He must have treated you like an absolute angel."
"He…" She wanted to say yes, but her mind flooded with thoughts of angrily barked orders, of black eyes given for getting in the way, of being abandoned at crime scenes so she could be arrested while her Joker gave her the slip. "…treated me well enough, yeah!"
Joker could sense her hesitation. He had her on the hook. "Then we understand each other, you and I," he continued. "We could never have what I had with her, or you with him. But I had to lose my one and only true love, while you…well, exactly the same thing happened to you. As we're both missing our better halves, why not form an alliance?"
"When you put it that way…" Harley began to wonder about this Joker. Did he live up to what he said? She had loved her Joker fervently, but sometimes the things he did to her, she couldn't turn a blind eye to. This Joker seemed to come without those complications. He already seemed more charming and eloquent. Besides, if nothing else, he would understand what it was like to lose someone so beloved.
"And I've a perfect idea for our first crime together," Joker suggested. "Getting revenge on the one who killed your Joker." He was ready to supply any number of names of patsies, thinking that most of the thugs present in his Gotham were at large here. He could pin it on Penguin, on Scarecrow, on Bane -
He didn't expect her reaction. The fist not buried in her bag clenched, and her expression and posture grew steely. "I know exactly who's to blame for that," she growled. "And a little revenge is just about what they deserve!"
Joker almost laughed. She'd already pinned his murder on someone else! But he bit his lip to avoid giving the game away. "Say the word," he told her, "and we'll make them wish they'd never laid a hand on your poor puddin'."
Maleficent couldn't have cared less about Harley, but she admired Joker's cruelty and his propensity for lies. She was intrigued to see where he would take her next.
...
After another day of the absolute grueling work of ruling an empire by putting in as little effort as possible, Mozenrath, Yzma, the Huntsman, and Xayide decided to make use of a facility in the Tower's upper levels devoted to a spa. The Huntsman refused to remove any articles of his clothing, around his face or otherwise, in such a public setting, and stood guard over the other three, who sprawled out across long tables in a room filled with steam. One employee gently massaged Mozenrath's temples, one vigorously worked out the knots in an overturned Xayide's back, and a third painted a new variety of face mask onto Yzma.
"I swear, wherever you go, peasants are all the same," Yzma sighed. "Complain about this. Complain about that. Do you know how many of them I had to turn away without listening to today because they won't shut up? It's tiring, I tell you!"
"Would that the popularity of our roles were reversed," the Huntsman said from his post by the door, huntstaff in hand. "I have heard much talk of dragons in this land, and not once have been contracted to slay any."
"I don't know what you two are complaining about," Mozenrath sighed. "This is the life."
"The others would clamor for our heads on platters if they knew how good we were having it without them," Yzma pointed out.
Mozenrath flinched. "What others?"
"This again?" Yzma sighed. "Wuya! Roman Torchwick! Archibald Snatcher! Ayam Aghoul! Mad Madam Mim!"
This time, Mozenrath didn't respond with acknowledgement: "I have…no idea what you're talking about. I'm pretty sure you're just making up names at this point."
"Why would I make up a name like 'Archibald Snatcher'?" Yzma asked.
"For the same reason you'd make up one like 'Ayam Aghoul,'" Mozenrath retorted. "Which is obviously fake."
"This has to be some sort of joke," Yzma groaned. "You cannot seriously tell me you've all of a sudden FORGOTTEN our closest allies. What's next? You're going to tell me you don't remember the Land of the Black Sands?"
"And that would be…where, again?"
"Your home!" Yzma insisted, sitting up and causing her designated caretaker to smear face mask down the back of her neck. "The land you came from before you ended up with the rest of us!"
"There isn't a Land of the Black Sands in Fantastica," Mozenrath replied angrily, refusing to move from his position; his caretaker's fingers making calculated circles over his forehead just felt too good to interrupt. "Now, if you'll STOP TRYING TO MAKE THINGS UP TO MAKE ME LOOK BAD…"
"I must go," Xayide said with a tremor in her voice, moving off the table and donning a white robe in one sweeping motion. "There is much work to be done in preparation for tomorrow." She hurried out of the room so quickly, the Huntsman suspected she knew more about the situation than she was letting on, and without a word to either Yzma or Mozenrath, he followed her.
Yzma and Mozenrath didn't notice. "It isn't IN Fantastica!" Yzma insisted. "It's on another world! You don't REMEMBER this? And I thought it was people of my age who were supposed to forget things."
"Well, that's obviously what's happening," Mozenrath retorted, "because I've lived in Fantastica my whole life. There isn't even any such THING as other worlds. Why are you even doing this?"
"Because I…because you…" Yzma gave up, flopping back down onto the table. "We will speak more of this later, young mister!"
"Young mister?" A bit of a laugh escaped Mozenrath. "What are you now, my mom?"
"I NEVER SAID THAT!" Yzma insisted. "WHO SAID ANYTHING ABOUT ME BEING YOUR MOTHER? NO ONE SAID THAT!"
The Huntsman tailed Xayide down a network of winding corridors before finding her all but cowering against a wall, hand pressed against her mouth as she forced herself to breathe deeply. "Xayide," he said sternly to alert her of his presence. "You know why Mozenrath has forgotten his life before this point, don't you?"
"It was only supposed to happen to human emperors who bore AURYN," Xayide gasped.
"What is AURYN?"
"The symbol of the Empress," Xayide explained. "Whosoever she bequeathed it to would speak for her and stand in for her."
"With such an item, we would not need to fight so hard for Mozenrath's position as a rightful ruler," the Huntsman pointed out. "Why have we not sought AURYN?"
"It disappeared with Bastian," Xayide informed him. "No one knows where it is. And even if anyone did…it would have only brought on this. Humans who come from outside Fantastica trade in their memories of their lives before this world in exchange for power and glory here. All of them attempt to become Emperor at some point. They either return to the place from whence they came, or…or they…"
"Or they do what, Xayide?"
"They lose their minds completely," Xayide answered, barely more than a whisper. "It's what happened to Bastian." Erroneous, but to the best of her knowledge, it was the conclusion that was easy to draw. "It wasn't supposed to happen without AURYN. Not to him. He wasn't…he wasn't like Bastian. He couldn't fail…"
"Is that what we stand to lose?" the Huntsman asked, now practically roaring. "Mozenrath's SANITY?"
"Yes," Xayide answered, eyes shut tight. "I believed he would be safe, I truly did."
"And what can we do to stop this?"
"I don't know." Xayide slumped to a sitting position, utterly defeated.
...
The band of heroes – consisting of three Keybearers (albeit two separated from their Keyblades), three former Beacon students, two alicorns, five Mystic Rangers, one overly friendly skeleton, one paranoid carrier pilot, two heirs to the throne of Agrabah, a witch of the sand, and a genie - set out from Agrabah at once, arriving at the edge of the Black Sands as night began to fall. As the sky mingled its bright colors with jet blackness, so did the sands beneath the intrepid team's feet.
"So far, so good!" Sora remarked.
"I'm still thinking about those magic-detecting traps," Jaune admitted. "HOW are we supposed to get by those? We have unicorns with us. UNICORNS."
"Alicorns," Cadance corrected.
"And isn't Papyrus, like, literally MADE of magic or something?" Jaune went on.
"THINK OF MAGIC TO MONSTERS LIKE BLOOD IS TO HUMANS," Papyrus explained.
"Yeah, exactly," Jaune emphasized. "How are we supposed to deal with that?"
"We cross that bridge when we come to it," Riku said firmly.
"I hate to break it to you," Aladdin pointed out, "but I think we've come to it."
The city was visible on the horizon, with its raised Citadel looming atop its peak like a vulture surveying prey down below.
"How close can we get before we have to make a plan?" Ruby asked.
"Pretty close," Jasmine informed her, "but then we have to figure out something."
They assembled just outside the city borders. "Explain these…magic detectors to me again," Stork implored.
"They're crystals set on top of poles as tall as most of the buildings here," Aladdin explained. "Mozenrath had them set up throughout the entire city so he could see whenever new magic entered his kingdom."
"But if there are Heartless here," Sora realized, "shouldn't those crystals be going off all the time anyway?"
"Jafar and Hades would have planned for that," Aladdin replied. "They would figure out a way to use the crystals to their advantage anyway."
"They probably have the patrol routes of the Heartless memorized," Jasmine volunteered. "That way, if they see a crystal light up, they know it's just a Heartless."
"Then it's easy!" Chip realized. "We just follow the Heartless around until we can get close to the Citadel!"
"There's no way to follow a Heartless that closely without it attacking," Riku butted in. "And we can't afford to fight every Heartless here."
"But there has to be some way we can use that to our advantage," Vida insisted. "What if we trailed just a block behind? Enough that the lights wouldn't fade, but far back enough that the Heartless might not spot us?"
"Unless Heartless have eyes at the back of their head or extrasensory perception that allows them to detect when they're being followed," Stork brought up. "Which I really don't doubt is the case."
"Sneaking up on a Heartless is hard, but not impossible," Riku corrected. "They don't have a good sense of what's behind them. If all we have to deal with is bigger Heartless, like Guard Armors and Darksides, we might just stand a chance."
"And we can pick off the little ones easy!" Nora added.
"I'm also wondering about blind spots," Riku went on. "Maybe there are some places in the city that Mozenrath didn't cover. Especially in the center, if he assumed someone would already set off the lights by coming in from the edges."
"So we need to look for blind spots for shortcuts and places where we can follow big Heartless across the city without being noticed," Nick recapitulated. "That just sounds like a huge puzzle."
"PUZZLE?" Papyrus repeated. "YOU KNOW…I'VE ALWAYS FANCIED MYSELF RATHER GOOD AT SOLVING PUZZLES. A CONNOISSEUR OF PUZZLES, IF YOU WILL!"
"If we got you a vantage point," Aladdin asked, "like this rooftop, do you think you could work it out?"
"Or, better yet, high above that," Luna suggested. "I could fly you up above the whole city."
"I'D NEED SOME TIME TO WATCH THE HEARTLESS' PATTERNS," Papyrus mused. "YES, YES…THIS WOULD BE MY GREATEST PUZZLE YET! BUT ONCE I'VE FIGURED IT OUT, WE'D NEED TO DRAW IT SO WE KNOW WHICH WAY WE'RE GOING AND WHEN TO ARRIVE."
"Here," Kairi said, extending her hands. "I can handle that." With a shimmer, a sketchpad and a pack of crayons appeared in her extended hands.
"Whoa," Jaune gasped. "How'd you do that?"
"It's a little trick Yen Sid taught me for carrying small things so I have my hands free for the Keyblade," Kairi told him. "Ever since I realized Naminé was part of me – "
"Wait," Jaune interrupted. "Who's…Naminé?"
"It's a long story," Kairi told him, "but I'll try to make it short. When people lose their hearts, they split in two. Their heart gives in to the Darkness and becomes a Heartless. But their body becomes something different. A Nobody. Usually, the Nobody and the Heartless are…kind of the same person, and they're a lot like the person that they came from. But for some reason, Sora and I had Nobodies that were…different from us. Sora gave up his heart to save me and the other Princesses of Heart, and that turned him into a Heartless and gave him a Nobody named Roxas. I lost my own heart that same day. It couldn't make a Heartless for a lot of reasons, but I did get a Nobody. Her name was Naminé. In the end, Roxas and Naminé had to become part of Sora and me again so they could be whole. But it's not like Vexen and Even or Zexion and Ienzo. They were exactly the same: Nobody and human. But that wasn't the case with Sora and me, and I don't know if we'll ever know why."
"It might have something to do with the sleeping Lights that Yen Sid talked about," Sora suggested. "He hinted at that, anyway."
"Naminé loved to draw," Kairi went on. "That's why I started carrying these around ever since we reunited. I've tried drawing a few things. My friends. Places I've been. But I'm not as good as Naminé was at all. I can make a rough sketch of this city, though, when we have a route figured out!"
"Every time I think this can't get weirder," Jaune said with a shake of his head. "So you're basically saying there's a whole different PERSON living inside of you."
"I'm ALMOST at the point where I've stopped being surprised," Stork added, deadpan.
"Yes and no," Kairi answered. "She's…there, but not really. It's pretty much just me. I…hope she's all right with that."
"I wonder the same thing about Roxas sometimes," Sora admitted. "But what are we supposed to do?"
"You can figure that out later," Nick said sternly. "Right now, we need a route to that Citadel."
Luna turned to Cadance. "I'll fly Papyrus if you fly Kairi."
"It's a deal," Cadance replied.
The two alicorns bore Papyrus and Kairi high into the sky, toward the moonless, starless abyss. Down below, the entire city lay like a sprawling labyrinth. As predicted, larger varieties of Heartless moved about from place to place: a Guard Armor clomping down this street, a Trickmaster juggling its clubs as it sashayed down that one. And as each made patrol, it lit up a set of crystals that left a glowing trail in its wake and took a while to fade. Also as predicted, Papyrus' eyes sought out places in the city layout where no crystals glowed at all.
"I'M BEGINNING TO SEE IT!" he cried.
Kairi poised the first crayon over her sketchbook. "Tell me where to go."
...
"…And it's been my most reliable method of getting most heterosexual men to let down their guard. Divulging precious information, letting me in on events generally restricted to the higher class…like that." Snatcher watched Peter's face (or, perhaps more properly, "Ragdoll's," as all had only just arrived back at the museum and neither Ragdoll nor Firefly had the time or energy to change into more casual clothing as of yet) to try and gauge a reaction to his explanation of Madame Frou Frou. "Though, if I were to say it wasn't…liberating, to an extreme degree, I would of course be lying." What else felt liberating was actually admitting his fondness for cross-dressing to someone Snatcher believed to be a trusted associate, perhaps already a friend. No longer was he a walking taboo. Though he did have his inhibitions. First of all, he realized he had to be absolutely sure Frou Frou would never have to work "her" charms on Ragdoll or Firefly. At this point, such a lack of trust between them would lead to complications for certain, he concluded. But for another, there was still the off chance that these newcomers actually would judge him in a negative light.
Ragdoll thought on it for a moment before asking, "So…miniskirts that go as short as you could possibly dare, or the long, flowing kind that twirl when you spin?"
"Well, I, er…" Snatcher fumbled on the words. "I generally find the longer skirt more flattering to my particular figure – "
"I wasn't asking YOUR preference," Ragdoll corrected. "I was asking which one would look better on me."
Firefly passed through the hall behind them, helmet tucked under one arm. "Okay," he muttered, "so if we do the acronym thing like WHAM ARMY, we get…FARMAR? No, wait…real first names. Thaaaaaat makes us GRAMPA…"
"Garfield," Ragdoll interrupted, "we're talking drag."
"Lynn Garfields," Garfield responded without thinking.
Snatcher and Ragdoll regarded him with confusion.
"That's where this was going, right?" Firefly asked. "My drag name. That's it."
"Certainly you can do better than simply swapping your first name with your surname," Snatcher groaned.
"Okay, okay, fine," Firefly grumbled. "Crush my dreams, why don't you? …Bridgit Pike. There. That better?"
"How did you go from something as simplistic as 'Lynn Garfields' all the way to 'BRIDGIT PIKE'?" Snatcher asked, incredulous.
"Are you going to complain about EVERY drag name I have?" Firefly retorted.
"As for the heart of the matter," Ragdoll brought up, "do you think I would look better in a miniskirt or the twirly sort?"
"Oooh, tough call," Firefly mused. "I think I'm gonna have to go with the mini."
Roman, Mim, and Aghoul entered the hallway then, with Roman in the lead both physically and in the conversation. "So I tried coming up with an acronym for us," he was explaining, "but really, the best I could come up with was GRAMPA."
All six suddenly became aware of a sound. It was a sound all were familiar with, having caused their fair share of it over their lives, some of which weren't too long ago. It was the sound of an explosion. Specifically, the sound of the adjacent block being completely blown up.
Snatcher was the only one who lingered to ask, "What do you think that was – "
The next thing he knew, Roman had grabbed his upper arm and begun to bolt. Snatcher had no choice but to keep pace as best he could, noting that Aghoul, Mim, and Firefly were all running as well. Ragdoll, in the meantime, was rolling, having curled into the shape of a wheel and turning head over heels repeatedly to keep up.
"WHY are we running?" Snatcher asked in a huff.
"Because something VERY CLOSE TO US blew up," Roman told him. "And THAT means there is a VERY likely chance that WE are the next thing that is going to blow up!"
"Seriously, how does he hang with you and not KNOW these things?" Firefly asked.
"Lay off!" Roman barked.
They all burst out of the doors of the museum at the same time. "But the protective barrier Mim produced will certainly protect – " Snatcher tried to argue.
"Um, no," Roman reminded him. "Fire incinerates helicopters that try to descend through it. Fire also makes BOMBS BLOW UP FASTER."
"Speaking of the ceiling," Firefly pointed out, "it…looks like there's something up there. Mim, can you call off the flames for, like, ten seconds?"
Mim snapped her fingers, and all six halted on the steps of the museum as the flames above abated momentarily to reveal a massive airship sliding into view over the museum.
"Oh, SHIT!" Roman hissed.
Up above, Joker beckoned Harley to come take her place beside him at the control panel. "See? I did what you asked and just fired a little warning shot. They're fine."
"Good," Harley sighed in relief. Her expression then changed: "Now WRECK THEIR STUFF!"
"As you wish, darling!" Joker replied, dropping the next bomb.
Mim didn't bother to put the fire barrier back up. In fact, it came all the way down; she knew she and her cohorts would need a quick escape route in case things went wrong. As the bomb plummeted, Firefly seized Ragdoll around the waist and took off as fast as he could into the streets, weaving his way around the buildings.
Mim pointed a finger almost accusatorily at the bomb, which froze in midair, then sprouted wings and began to fly away of its own accord. She folded her arms, looking upon her victory smugly.
"You show 'em, dearie!" Aghoul cheered.
"Why do I just NOT have a good feeling about this?" Roman wondered out loud. "Mim, stand by to transport us out in case something extra-weird happens."
"You heard Garfield and Peter explain this city as well as I did!" Mim huffed. "No one here uses actual magic!"
The third bomb fell with an aura of green flame surrounding it, and though Mim pointed at it again and again, she couldn't slow its course.
"MIM – " Roman yelled, eyes widening in horror.
"All right, all right!" Mim snapped her fingers, taking herself, Aghoul, Roman, and Snatcher to a rooftop several blocks away just in time for them to see the Romano Museum go up in brilliant chartreuse flames.
As Firefly buzzed into the sky, Ragdoll asked him, "Are you really just going to leave the others behind?"
"Does it LOOK like I could fly all six of us out of there?" Firefly retorted. "If I could, I would have. As it is, I'm just getting what's important to safety."
They both heard the explosion sound from behind them. "Well, there goes our bid at conquering Gotham," Ragdoll groaned.
"We'll get another gig," Firefly assured him. "Though I am gonna miss that Torchwick guy. He was cool."
"You're not going to miss him that much."
"And what makes you say that?"
"He's standing right there."
Firefly's head whipped to look at the rooftop Ragdoll was pointing at, where Roman, Snatcher, Aghoul, and Mim were watching their base go up in flames. Firefly immediately zoomed to their side, setting Ragdoll down gently. "I know what you're thinking," Firefly began, "and I was NOT trying to ditch you guys – "
"I know," Roman interrupted. "Now shut up."
Mim, meanwhile, was livid. "GREEN fire!" she screamed as she stormed about the rooftop. "It's GREEN fire, and it resisted my magic! That can only mean one thing! It's HER! Ooooooh, how I hate, hate, HAAAAATE HER!"
"Now, now, my little corpseflower," Aghoul said shakily, "there's no need to get upset. We don't KNOW it's her for sure – "
"Oh, it's HER, all right!" Mim barked. "Why can't she just STAY OUT OF OUR BUSINESS?"
"Who is this mysterious 'her'?" Ragdoll asked, intrigued.
"Better question," Roman posed. "Why is it that we just got our base and all our loot blown up, and you're still SMILING?"
Ragdoll ignored him, waiting on Mim's answer.
"Why, that no-good Maleficent!" Mim raged. "She just has to play dirty!"
"I thought WE were the no-goods who played dirty," Firefly pointed out.
"We are," Aghoul explained. "And that's a good bit of why we don't get along!"
"Rival factions, I see!" Ragdoll realized. "Well, there's nothing like a good old-fashioned rivalry to get inspiration flowing."
"Inspiration for revenge?" Roman asked. "Because that's what we're gonna need right about now."
They all saw the airship cloak itself into transparency as it soared away from the wreckage of the museum. "There she goes, playing dirty again!" Mim huffed. "Not even staying out in the open where we can find her!"
"Practically taken the shirts off our backs, she did!" Snatcher growled.
"We're not out of the game yet," Roman insisted. "We're actually just getting started. If Maleficent wants to play, well, then, we'll show her what we're made of."
"Is that wise?" Snatcher asked. "She's given us quite the runaround thus far. And who knows what manner of freak she's managed to ally with, given this city's reputation?"
"Trust me," Roman insisted. "This isn't over."
"This isn't over, you know," Joker insisted to Harley and Maleficent. "We're just getting warmed up. Now that the opening act is through, we can move on to the main event."
"What're ya plannin'?" Harley asked.
"To take Gotham by storm," Joker told her. "After all, if this is the city I think it is, the names and locations of a few places might have switched around…but there will always be an Arkham Asylum."
...
The Huntsman burst back into the spa in the closest thing he could muster to a panic. "Mozenrath," he growled.
"What?" Mozenrath sighed; he was by that point overturned and having his shoulders worked.
"You're losing memories," the Huntsman insisted. "Xayide has confessed that it may be a side effect of you taking the throne here."
"No, I'm not, and no, it isn't," Mozenrath sighed. "I don't know why you all picked today of all days to try and play a joke on me, but it stopped being funny a LONG time ago."
"We must leave," the Huntsman insisted.
"Leave?" Yzma repeated, stunned. "After we've taken our biggest conquest yet?"
"If we remain here," the Huntsman told her, "Mozenrath will lose all recognition of who he is and where he comes from. Even his own name and sense of self."
Yzma needed a moment for that to sink in. "I…suppose if that is the consequence, we really SHOULD be going…"
"We will leave at once," the Huntsman repeated. "Mozenrath, do you recall how to open a portal that leads anywhere but Fantastica?"
"I know how to use the Darkness to make portals," Mozenrath answered, "but I'm not taking us anywhere. If I didn't know you better, I'd say you were just making things up so you could get me to leave the throne and…" He cut himself off, shoving aside his masseuse and rising from his table. "You thought you could take advantage of me," he growled, staring directly at the Huntsman. He then turned to look to Yzma; "And YOU! You've been his accomplice the whole time! You just couldn't be happy with being the Emperor's Advisor, could you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Yzma growled, sitting up to face him.
"You're trying to convince me I'm going crazy so that you can send me away and take the throne for yourself," Mozenrath accused. "And when I inevitably don't buy it, you're planning on defaming me in front of all of Fantastica and claiming I'm losing my mind so they'll install YOU in my place!"
"WHAT would possess you to think I would want such a thing?" the Huntsman barked. "Have I been anything less than loyal to you? Have I ever even hinted at betraying you?"
"And what about me?" Yzma hissed. "You're the one emperor I WOULDN'T try to run the country of behind his back! And that's really saying something!"
"Why should I believe you?" Mozenrath asked.
"Because of all we've been through together?" Yzma suggested.
"All we've been through," Mozenrath scoffed. "Let me guess: I've apparently known and trusted both of you ever since we came here from whatever world it was that we live in that isn't here."
"That…sounds correct to me?" Yzma said warily.
"Please," Mozenrath told them both. "I've only known you since I met you two and Xayide at Horok while searching for the first members of my Fantastican army."
That stunned both Yzma and the Huntsman into silence.
"Xayide's in on it," Mozenrath hissed, swiping his shirt and re-clothing himself. "I should have known the three of you would attempt to betray me. You were just too good to be true."
The Huntsman placed himself in front of the door before Mozenrath could storm out. "I forbid you from going any further!"
"Out of my way, traitor."
Before the Huntsman knew what hit him, he had been flung aside with immense force until he crashed against the wall. Mozenrath, his gauntlet cooling down after the blast, simply strode out of the spa.
"MOZENRATH!" Yzma leapt off the table, tightening the waist of the white robe she'd been provided. "MOZENRATH, YOU GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT! I DEMAND IT!"
"YOU'RE NOT MY MOTHER!" Mozenrath yelled back at her.
"DO YOU EVEN REMEMBER YOUR MOTHER?" Yzma screeched.
"NO, AND I DON'T CARE!"
The Huntsman pried himself up off the floor, resolving to walk off his aches. "You listened in," he stated.
"You expected us NOT to?" Yzma said with a shrug pointed at him.
"Then you heard…us…"
"Yes, yes, I know about your little benefits arrangement!" Yzma confirmed. "We have more important matters at hand!"
They took off to chase Mozenrath together.
Xayide found the two of them hammering on the door of the apartment of rooms that had been designated as Mozenrath's private chambers. "MOZENRATH!" Yzma yelled. "YOU COME OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!"
"NO!" Mozenrath roared from inside.
"IF YOU DON'T COME OUT HERE ON THE COUNT OF THREE," Yzma insisted, "I'M GOING TO BREAK THE DOOR DOWN AND DRAG YOU OUT HERE MYSELF! A-ONE!"
"I wouldn't," the Huntsman warned.
"A-TWO!"
"Yzma, Mozenrath has likely sealed the door off with – "
Yzma was already backing up. "A-THREE! THAT'S IT!" She threw herself at the door at full force. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA – "
She collided with the door, which refused to budge, and was thrown back onto the floor from the recoil.
"…Magic," the Huntsman sighed. "He's sealed the doors with magic."
Xayide tested her own magical force against the door. "He has indeed," she confirmed, "and a powerful spell at that."
"More powerful than what you can break?" the Huntsman asked. "The drain that must have taken on his life force…"
"It is no use to worry about him now," Xayide insisted. "We cannot reach him from this side of the door. We must wait until he decides to exit of his own accord."
"MY FIRST ORDER OF BUSINESS IS TO HAVE YOU ALL FIRED THE MINUTE I TAKE THE THRONE TOMORROW!" Mozenrath yelled. "CONSIDER YOURSELVES LUCKY I'M FEELING MERCIFUL ENOUGH JUST TO CONDEMN YOU TO EXILE!"
"Exile…" the Huntsman repeated.
"Us," Yzma affirmed. "He wants to exile us. He…really has forgotten us."
"There is nothing more we can do tonight," Xayide reiterated.
"But…I…he…" Yzma turned from Xayide to the door and back.
"Nothing more," Xayide said mournfully.
"Then we should retire and wait for morning," the Huntsman suggested. "We shall not be exiled so easily."
"You do realize that if we resist," Yzma told him, "he's going to…" She drew her finger across her neck with the appropriate sound effect.
"Let him try," the Huntsman said as he turned and stalked away. Yzma and Xayide gave up as well, retiring to their own chambers.
...
At Arkham Asylum, the inmates were let out as usual to the courtyard, where they had what passed for freedom – mobility, the opportunity to socialize, a few distractions. Usually, however, they were under strict supervision. As most of the inmates were set in their routine, no one noticed that the guards usually posted around the yard were missing that day.
The inmates settled in at their tables, some conversing with each other, some playing board games, some simply stewing to themselves and being glad they could do so in open air instead of a cramped cell. That was when the PA system sounded, a strange voice they had never heard before emanating from it: "Good morning, Arkham! I hope we're all as insane as usual! This is your friendly Joker announcing that this facility is under new management!"
"Joker?" Cosmo Krank muttered under his breath. "That doesn't sound anything like Joker!"
"That's right, all you crazies!" the voice went on. "All the staff of Arkham has been granted an…extended vacation. And in their place, they've left the one, the only…"
A Corridor of Darkness opened up from the office where Joker had made his announcement right into the center of the courtyard. "Me!" Joker cried proudly as he strode through, Harley cartwheeling alongside him and Maleficent walking tall behind.
"And who are YOU supposed to be?" Nathan Finch called out from across the courtyard.
"I just told you!" Joker insisted. "I'm the Joker!"
"You don't…um…well…that is to say…" Arnold Wesker stuttered. The small wooden dummy he carried with him was suddenly granted Wesker's secondary voice: "What the dummy means is, you ain't the Joker! You ain't anything LIKE the Joker!"
"Oh, dear," Joker muttered. "Seems I run into this problem everywhere I go. Well, I'm not going to give everybody the LONG version of the story. The short version is…THAT Joker has gone down to the big carnival down below. And who better to fill the Joker-shaped void in this city than me?"
"You're no Joker," Nathan scoffed. "You're just a joke."
Joker wagged a finger. "Ah-ah. Caaaaareful now. You wouldn't want to end up on the same cruise line as the good orderlies of Arkham, now, would you?"
"Give us one good reason to believe you're hot stuff," Nathan challenged.
"One good reason, is it?" Joker reiterated. "How about this: I took the liberty of electrifying the entire courtyard before you got here. Now, Harley, Maleficent, and I are standing in one of the safe spots. Let's see how many others of you found the safe zones." He pulled a remote from a jacket pocket, pressing a button.
Electric shocks ran through the ground and up the tables, jolting most of the current utilizers of the courtyard; a cacophony of screams went up. Joker then pressed another button, deactivating the electricity, and the screams petered out into moans.
"Well?" Wesker said through the dummy known as Scarface once he'd settled down. "Whaddaya want from us?"
"Imagine this:" Joker proposed, "a Gotham run not by your average criminal underworld, but by us freaks. The crazies. The whackos. The ones everyone wrote off. An army worthy only of Arkham, led by me…oh, and Harley, too. Everyone gets their fair share, so long as most of what we reap belongs to me…oh, and Harley, too. So, what do you say? Do we have an alliance?"
The inmates whispered to each other. On one hand, Joker's proposition sounded tempting. On the other, no one particularly wanted to work for him. But if he could rig the entire courtyard to become a machine of pain, what else was he capable of? Besides, he had a very recognizable Harley with him.
Finally, Cosmo volunteered, "I'm in! Taking over Gotham sounds like fun, anyway!"
"Yeah, count me in, too," Nathan added.
"Make room for me and the dummy!" Wesker said through Scarface.
One by one, the other inmates chimed in affirmatively.
"This is goin' perfect, puddin'!" Harley chirped, grasping Joker's arm and leaning into him.
"It is, isn't it?" Joker replied.
"All hail the New Joker!" Cosmo cried, and the chant was taken up throughout the courtyard, either out of enthusiasm or fear: "NEW JOKER! NEW JOKER!"
Nathan strode toward Joker, Harley, and Maleficent. "What, come to try and rise against the man?" Joker asked, looking up and down Nathan, spying his artificial hand and eye. "Or did you catch a computer virus and expect me to debug you?"
"All I'm saying is that if you're gonna pull together an Arkham army," Nathan grumbled, "you shouldn't forget about the guys in the basement."
"What 'guys in the basement'?" Joker asked, intrigued.
"Max security," Nathan explained. "Too dangerous to be topside with us. The plant chick and the shapeshifter."
"Color me intrigued," Joker replied.
...
As dawn broke over Fantastica, Yzma, Xayide, and the Huntsman all rose from their beds with one objective. They met outside Mozenrath's door, ready to begin their assault anew.
"Agitating him will only make him refuse to come out," Xayide reminded Yzma and the Huntsman.
"Then let us test the strength of his enchantment first," the Huntsman said, reaching out to the door.
It was not only no longer sealed by magic; it was unlocked. The door swung wide, and an eerie wind blew through the apartment.
"I have a bad feeling about this," Yzma muttered.
Yzma, the Huntsman, and Xayide searched every last corner of the apartment, but Mozenrath was nowhere to be found.
And as they extended their search, asking the inhabitants of the upper levels of the Tower if they had seen their emperor recently, they learned he was absent from the Tower altogether, leaving no trace of when he had left or where he had gone.