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.

34. The Last Laugh

34. The Last Laugh

Snipe's defeat in the moto-jousting ring had left him quite sour toward Wuya, Neo, and Irmaplotz, and he made a point of following them around and finding new challenges for him to prove his superiority to them. "I bet you can't burp the alphabet backwards!" he boasted to the trio, letting out a huge belch that sounded like a "Z," than a "Y," than an "X." After that, he had to stop and think. "Uhhh…"

This left Irmaplotz a window to fill in with burps of her own: "W-V-U-T-S-R-Q – "

"AaaAAAAARGH!" Snipe gritted his teeth in rage. "I'll find something! There are LOTS of things I can do better than you three! You'll see!" He turned and stormed away, muttering to himself. "Bunch of girls…"

"Impressive," Wuya told Irmaplotz. "Now don't ever do that again." Neo punctuated this with a nod.

"I don't plan on it," Irmaplotz replied.

Snipe turned a corner to find Ravess waiting for him. "Brother," she stated coldly.

"Not in the mood for it, Ravess!" Snipe snapped, attempting to step around her. "Move!"

Ravess slid right into Snipe's path, blocking his way. "I've come to challenge you."

"To WHAT?"

"Moto-jousting."

Snipe paused a moment, letting it sink in. Then he let out a loud guffaw. "HA! HAHAHAHAHA! YOU? BEAT ME AT MOTO-JOUSTING?"

"I'm fairly confident I can out-joust you," Ravess said with a smirk. "Though if you believe otherwise, you're welcome to prove it on the battlefield. Then again, given your last loss, perhaps deep down, you DON'T believe otherwise…"

"YOU'RE ON!" Snipe yelled.

Snipe and Ravess soon found themselves facing each other, seated on their respective motorbikes as Vexen stood between them.

"Now, I want this to be kept a good, clean match," he said with a knowing smirk.

"Clean match?" Snipe laughed. "Yeah, right!"

"Do your worst," Ravess dared.

"On your mark!" Vexen declared. "Be ready! And…BEGIN!"

"YOU'RE GOING DOWN!" Snipe roared as his bike surged forward.

"You have to catch me first!" Ravess yelled as she turned her bike around and zoomed out of sight.

"NO FAIR!" Snipe bellowed as he gave chase. "GET BACK HERE, YOU COWARD!"

Following Ravess' trail what he believed to be closely, he found himself looking once more at the entryway to the laboratory. Several large and ostentatious signs painted in bright colors pointed at one of the levers, each proclaiming "PULL THIS LEVER!"

"Ha!" Snipe laughed. "You just made it too easy for me!" He pulled up parallel to the wall, pulling the indicated lever.

The entire floor dropped out from beneath him, and he and his bike both fell a good distance before crashing at the bottom of a dark, windowless pit.

Before Snipe could work out what had happened, a smooth voice cut in far above him: "I know you don't know what the word 'oubliette' means. Allow me to define it for you."

Snipe craned his head upward to see Vexen staring down at him from above. "An oubliette," Vexen continued, "is a prison in which people are placed in order to be forgotten. To use it in a sentence: Snipe fell for a rudimentary trap that anyone of any intelligence should have been able to detect, and now he is unable to escape an oubliette."

"Unable to escape?" Snipe repeated. "That's what you think! I'll PUNCH my way outta this room! Where is this, anyway?"

"Through careful study," Vexen informed Snipe, "I was able to determine that the decoy lever rotated between three punishments for those who pulled it. The first time, the punishment is flames. Pulled a second time, the lever's wrath is an attempt to freeze the hapless victim. The third time opens the oubliette. And the cycle repeats. All I had to do was make sure the lever was set to the correct trap and mark it ostentatiously. Your sister, of course, provided the bait."

At the other end of the aperture above, Ravess stepped into view. "Enjoy being forgotten, brother," she said with a smirk as the floor separating Snipe's new prison and the upper level began to patch itself together.

"I'M GONNA GET YOU BACK FOR THIS!" Snipe vowed, shaking a fist. Then the floor fixed itself to completion, and his voice was completely silenced.

"Someone WILL notice he is gone, of course," Ravess pointed out.

"Until then, we can enjoy the peace and quiet," Vexen sighed. "Though I suppose as his sister, you will want to let him out eventually."

"When I feel like it," Ravess stated. "And right now, I certainly do NOT feel like it."

"Nor do I," Vexen said with a nod. "It really is a pity that all it took was something so idiotically simple."

"It is, isn't it?" Ravess asked as she strode from the room. "Perhaps the next person to interrupt us will actually give us a challenge."

"Perhaps," Vexen agreed as he followed.

...

Beneath Gotham, a subterranean maze led to a secluded cavern. It was down this lengthy trail full of twists and turns that a certain duo tread, high heels clicking. Madame Frou Frou was on the prowl, but this time, she had a companion, and it certainly wasn't Fiammetta Incandescent.

Snatcher had insisted that he could persuade a big-name villain to cause a diversion on his own, but his associate had simply insisted upon coming along. After all, he had just stolen a dress that fit him perfectly, and he wanted his chance to try it out. Snatcher had argued heavily for going alone, not trusting anyone else to keep his game on point. His associate had replied that he was coming along whether Snatcher wanted him to or not, and if Snatcher didn't like that, Snatcher could just shoot him. Which Snatcher had been very tempted to do, but instead, he sighed, giving pointers to create a blonde dragsona in a red dress that showed off a lot of leg. And that was how he ended up with an effeminately clothed Peter at his side in the passages below Gotham.

"Remember, darling," Snatcher said in his best Frou Frou voice, "let me do all the talking. You may know the criminal underworld, but I know men."

"And let this brilliant voice Mim conjured for me go to waste?" Peter replied; Mim had transfigured his voice to sound far more female.

"I still maintain that's cheating," Snatcher said sullenly. "I've never once needed magic to pull this off, I'll have you know."

"You have to admit we needed magic for SOME of this," Peter reminded him, withdrawing several sparkling diamonds – or, to be more accurate, worthless stones glamoured to look like diamonds - from a small red purse. "How you would have negotiated without these, I'll never know."

"I don't wish to see the look on our client's face when the glamour wears off," Snatcher remarked. "We should be well out of range by that time, and it will be impossible for him to locate either of us based on the faces and names we'll be giving him."

"Too bad," Peter sighed as he replaced the faux gems in his purse. "I rather wanted to see him rage."

"Ah, so you have a death wish."

"Actually, it's more to do with revenge. He did something quite difficult to forgive, and if we didn't need his help, I'd be of a mind to do so much worse to him than pay him in false diamonds."

"What did he ever do to you?" Snatcher asked.

"He broke Garfield's heart," Peter replied.

The floor beneath their feet became dusted in frost; the walls lined in ice that shimmered a ghostly blue. "Don't say anything to make me regret not shooting you," Snatcher hissed to Peter.

"You are the expert here, after all," Peter replied sincerely.

Upon hearing the sound of two pair of high heels enter his domain, Victor Fries, more commonly known throughout Gotham as "Mr. Freeze," stomped out toward the entryway of his lair to face his intruders. The sight of him was striking; Snatcher felt of a chill of what he didn't want to admit was intimidation when the man, tall with his upper body encased in a sharp and glistening iceberg, stepped into view. "Who are you?" Freeze hissed, his voice sending shivers through Snatcher and Peter that had nothing to do with the drop in temperature that surrounded him.

"We have a proposition for you, Monsieur," Snatcher began. "One we think you will find – "

"I asked who you are," Freeze interrupted. "You did not answer my question. I will give you one chance to try again."

"Me?" Snatcher put a hand over his chest, batting Freeze eyes of innocence. "My name is Madame Frou Frou. And this young woman is my friend – "

"Sarah," Peter broke in. "Sarah Smiles."

Freeze fixed his eyes, which in the light, looked the same crimson as the Huntsman's, upon the pair. He had no inkling of who either of them was, and severely doubted two civilians could so easily find their way to his hiding place. "You are not affiliated with the Penguin, are you?"

"Why, no, Monsieur Freeze," Snatcher replied. "We would not even think of working with that dreadful ruffian."

"Riddler?" Freeze pressed. "Former allies of Joker?"

"Neither," Peter answered.

"Roman Torchwick," Freeze hissed, sounding angriest of all about that.

"NEVER!" Snatcher and Peter gasped as one.

"Then what makes you think you can offer me a proposition?" Freeze continued.

"We are what you would call upstarts, I suppose," Snatcher told him. "A pair of ne'er-do-wells who await when the empires of those you've mentioned lay in ruins so that we may build upon them. As you can imagine, it isn't easy for the likes of us. We simply aren't taken seriously."

"I can imagine," Freeze said apathetically.

"Tonight – " Peter began.

Snatcher elbowed him in the stomach to shut him up. "Tonight, you see, we are attempting somewhat of a…heist. I presume you know about the Judovits-Sabara exhibit?"

"Every criminal who considers himself worth his frost will be after that prize," Freeze stated. "I am not about to lower myself to something so obviously coveted. After all, not all that glitters is snow."

"Well, we certainly want it," Peter explained, "and we're willing to split the profits with you if you help us. You don't have to be anywhere near the museum itself." Testing the limits of his role, he strode toward Freeze, reaching out to place a hand on the tall man's chest and half wishing he could simply punch him instead. "The talents of a big, strong iceberg such as yourself are more useful elsewhere."

Freeze slapped Peter's hand away. "Seduction will not work on me," he hissed. "You might call me frigid in that regard. I prefer to speak in terms of cold, hard cash."

"Suit yourself," Peter grumbled, taking the glamoured stones from his purse and offering them.

Freeze's eyes momentarily widened when he saw how the light reflected off the diamonds. "How did you come by such ice? This looks to be worth more than what you intend to steal."

"Surely, you don't think the museum is our FIRST caper!" Snatcher giggled. "Don't worry. We still intend to give you a share of the reward. But we thought an advance payment might warm you up just a little, no?"

Freeze's fist closed around the diamonds in Peter's hand. "What is it you want from me?" he asked.

"Distract the Batman," Snatcher said plainly. "Keep him as far away from the museum as you can. Use whatever means appeal to you to accomplish this."

"Enticing," Freeze replied, with emphasis on the syllable "ice." "I shall take you up on your offer. On one condition."

"Anything for you," Snatcher told him, batting eyelashes again.

"If you do not come through on your promise," Freeze threatened, "I put you both on ice."

"Duly noted," Peter said with a nod.

...

The wall of the City of Old Emperors towered high over Yzma, the Huntsman, and Xayide. "We have reached our destination," Xayide announced. "If we have been correct about the events that have taken place, Mozenrath is indeed within these walls. If we have not, then…"

"Then we figure out where in the world he even IS," Yzma grumbled. "I swear, if he makes me hike so much as a mile more in these foul boots…"

The Huntsman had simply pressed onward until he found the tall wooden gate of the City, shoving it inward so that the three seekers could enter.

They were taken aback at the chaos that reigned in the architecture visible inside. "A representation of the mental state of those who reside here," Xayide explained as the trio walked into the confines of the walls, beginning to make their way down one of the twisting by-roads.

"This is going to make my eyes bleed," Yzma hissed.

"Does the City often receive visitors from the outside?" the Huntsman asked.

"What is the point?" Xayide responded. "Those who make their permanent residence here are outsiders, lost from their homeworld. They are of little consequence to Fantastica. And furthermore, it is known to all who might have cared about them that once they reach this City, they are well and truly lost."

"I will lose him over my rotting corpse," the Huntsman grumbled under his breath.

For half an hour, they wandered the convoluted streets, only becoming more and more lost. Oddly enough, Xayide remarked, they had yet to see a single resident of the City, and it was almost as though the city were empty. Their wandering was suddenly interrupted by a "Hello!" that was meant to sound gleeful but instead carried a not-too-well-hidden strain.

All three turned to see Argax standing upon a barrel at the side of the street. The Huntsman reacted out of instinct, drawing the Huntstaff and aiming it at the talking monkey.

"Have you come for Mozenrath?" Argax asked, unfazed by the staff but still forcing his smile to hide a very exhausted interior.

"Yes," the Huntsman replied. "We have."

"I was hoping someone would," Argax sighed. "Things haven't gone as planned. Characters from other Realms of Storytelling should never be allowed to enter Fantastica again, they shouldn't. Or at least not be allowed to become Emperor. The rules don't work on them."

"Realms of Storytelling?" the Huntsman repeated. "Explain." He nudged the staff forward until the point of it pressed against Argax's throat.

"I told Mozenrath once, but he's obviously forgotten it," Argax answered. "Fantastica is where stories are born, but there are infinite worlds where stories take place. They rarely ever cross. And yet here you are, two of you from other Realms of Storytelling entirely, and neither from the same as Mozenrath. Whatever circumstances brought you together? This is truly an anomaly."

The Huntsman was beginning to piece everything together in his mind. "Stories," he repeated. "We are stories, you claim."

"Fictional characters," Argax confirmed. "Told in a story by someone in a distant land apart from any of your worlds."

"You lie," the Huntsman accused.

"It is what I have been trying to tell you from the very start," Xayide admitted.

The Huntsman, staff still trained on Argax, turned to look at her with interest. Yzma also regarded Xayide as the redheaded witch explained, "Bastian Balthazar Bux was a human. Not a Fantastican. This was easy to discern. However, when the three of you entered my fortress, it became clear that while you were not Fantasticans, you had more in common with them than with Bastian, a true human. I knew you must have been part of another story. A story with a more…independent world than Fantastica. A story where you did not need an encroaching human to decide who you were and why you did what you did."

"I still refuse to believe any of it," the Huntsman growled. "We are not fictional playthings of humans that watch over us like gods. We are barely playthings of the gods. We decide our own destiny. We do not simply follow a narrative."

"Decide your own destiny!" Xayide blurted. "I heard what you told Mozenrath on the night you declared your affections for him! Regardless of whatever humans tell your story in Bastian's world, you have never once had a say in your own destiny! You let the mark on your body, the mark of the dragon, decide that for you. You let your masters, your mentors, your teachers imprint a destiny inside of you. And you have followed that destiny to this day. Even now, you bow to the whims of Mozenrath."

The Huntsman's grip tightened on his weapon in rage. He wanted to spin it, turn it on Xayide. How dare the woman he saved from the maw of the Swamps of Sadness speak such atrocities toward him? Yet he could not bring himself to even attempt to harm her. Perhaps it was because of the alliance they had forged. And perhaps it was because he knew the truth of her words.

Yzma, all the same, decided to step right in between the two, hoping to act as a physical barrier against a fight. "You're both changing the subject!" she hissed. "We aren't here to have existential crises over revelations that shape our notion of reality! And we're not here to ask armor-piercing questions that fish for uncomfortable truths! We can do all that later over coffee. We are HERE to save Mozenrath!"

"Whether he is the one who needs saving is up for debate," Argax confessed. "By now, if he were a human, he would have lost almost all of his mental functions. I had expected him to join in the players of the Jumble Game, spelling out nonsense words on blocks with letters on. Instead, he…remembers one thing about himself. Not his name, nor his origin. He remembers that he wants to conquer. And…he has conquered. For the first time in remembered history, the City has a ruler."

"Why am I not surprised?" Yzma sighed. "WHY am I not surprised? He's insane, he can't remember anything, and he STILL took over this tiny, inconsequential piece of wasteland!"

"You may have noticed that the townsfolk are conspicuously absent," Argax sighed. "That is because…well, it will be far more effective to SHOW you what has happened than to simply explain."

"Then take us to Mozenrath," the Huntsman demanded.

At the heart of the City, the civilians scuttled about, building a pile of assorted objects that grew higher and higher. At the apex was a broken chair with bits of jewelry and string woven through it, and Mozenrath was seated upon that chair, barking out orders. "I said add MORE!" he roared. "I am your king now, and I need a castle worthy of one!"

"This really isn't surprising," the Huntsman told Yzma as they beheld the scene.

"MOZENRATH!" Yzma stormed toward the tower of junk. "YOU GET DOWN FROM THERE RIGHT NOW!"

Mozenrath flinched before looking at Yzma. "You're…talking to me?"
"Do you see anyone ELSE around here named Mozenrath?" Yzma spat.

"That ISN'T my name," Mozenrath insisted, arms folded.

"Then what is?" Yzma asked.

Mozenrath didn't have an answer for that, so he decided to change the subject. "Who are YOU to think you can order me around? I'm the king here! I should have you banished for treason."

"AGAIN?" Yzma sighed.

The Huntsman tried a different approach, positioning himself in front of the royal trash heap and bending down on a knee. "Your Majesty," he greeted. "I apologize for the rudeness of my companion. We have merely come to ask you simple questions."

"And what makes you think I want to answer simple questions?" Mozenrath asked, fixing a glare upon the Huntsman.

"Do you have anything BETTER to do with your time?" Yzma asked.

Mozenrath thought it over. "Fair point," he said, waving his right hand. "All right, ask away. This MIGHT be amusing."

"Where do you come from?" the Huntsman began.

"This City," Mozenrath replied. "Since birth. Next."

"I could not help but notice the accessory that adorns your right hand, but no match upon your left. Is it of value?"

Mozenrath looked at his right hand in surprise. "Well, it's mine," he replied, "so obviously, yes, it has some inherent value."

"Do you wish to expand your empire outside these walls?" the Huntsman continued. "You must be aware that you would make a fine king over a larger domain."

"Everything I want is right here," Mozenrath answered. "There's nothing interesting outside the City walls! Everyone knows that!"

"For my final question," the Huntsman concluded, "do you know who we are?"

That got Mozenrath to pause for quite a while. As he looked over Xayide, Yzma, and the Huntsman, he did have to admit a sense of familiarity. However, his final answer was "No. I have no idea who you are. You seem to think you know who I am, but you don't. So obviously, you have me confused for someone less important. Which would explain all the weird questions."

"That is what we most urgently needed to know," the Huntsman stated. "Thank you. I beseech you to let us stay within your realm a while longer while we calculate our next step."

"I'm not a big fan of loiterers," Mozenrath grunted.

"Let us stay," Xayide broke in, "and we shall contribute to the construction of your castle."

"I guess I can't argue with that," Mozenrath said with a slight shrug. "Stay, then. But I'm watching you."

The trio moved some distance away from the throne. "He's forgotten his own NAME?" Yzma began.

"He's forgotten everything," Xayide said mournfully.

"Not necessarily everything," the Huntsman stated. "It would be much easier if he had. He still seems to have false memories implanted, this time of always having lived in the City of Old Emperors. And as of now, we have given him memories that cause him to distrust us. It would be easier to begin from a blank slate."

"So you're saying what, exactly?" Yzma grumbled. "We leave him here until he forgets MORE things?"
"The effects would be catastrophic," Xayide stated. "He would gain more false memories and forget what we would not want him to, such as how to read or even how to eat. Furthermore, he already has not entered such an advanced state of memory loss as usual inhabitants. We may find ourselves waiting for eternity."

"There is another option," the Huntsman admitted. "One I was hesitant to use. It is very drastic." He withdrew a corked vial of water from his clothing. "This vial contains a very rare water drawn from the river Lethe in the Underworld. The Huntsclan valued its properties. It will cause anyone who is doused in it or who ingests it to forget certain things. This particular concentration of it has been magically enhanced so that it will wipe all memories of an identity from a mind. The one who receives the treatment will remember daily functions and the purpose of objects, but not his own name, his allies and enemies, his homeworld, or even what magic he knows. Mozenrath seems to have lost most of this already, and unless there is a way to repair this…" He looked toward Xayide.

"There is not," Xayide stated. "Are you saying with this water, we could turn his memory loss to our own terms?"
"And lead him out of the City," the Huntsman confirmed.

"He will forget you," Xayide reminded him. "He will forget his relationship with you."

"He already has," the Huntsman recalled. Though he was adamant not to let it show, Yzma and Xayide could guess at how the Huntsman's heart was being torn by having to make this decision. "If he has not forgotten how to use the gauntlet already, he will certainly forget it after this. We must take care to protect him. He will be vulnerable."

"And is there any way to come back from this Lethe water?" Yzma asked.

"I…do not know," the Huntsman admitted. "And 'coming back' may very well be restoring him to the state he is in now. We may simply be resigned to bringing him up to speed from scratch. Teaching him to be who he once was. Helping him regain his magical skill…and our trust."

"I know the others aren't going to like that," Yzma groaned. "As a matter of fact, I don't like it."

"Nor I," the Huntsman admitted. "But it seems the only way."

"It does sound as though it will work," Xayide encouraged.

"Then we are agreed," the Huntsman stated.

"Unfortunately," Yzma and Xayide sighed as one.

The Huntsman turned back to Mozenrath's makeshift throne. "Your Majesty," the Huntsman announced, "before we begin the construction of your magnificent castle, we bring you a gift."

"I'm listening," Mozenrath replied, suddenly interested.

The Huntsman set a foot on the mound; the myriad of oddly shaped objects slid beneath his boot. He gained traction, finding a path to walk up to Mozenrath until he stood before the rickety chair itself. He offered the vial of Lethe water in an outstretched hand. "Water the likes of which is only drunk or bathed in by kings," he said, heart pounding.

"That sounds suspiciously like what someone would say if they were trying to poison me," Mozenrath pointed out.

"I assure you, it is not – "

"Prove it. Drink from it."

The Huntsman quickly uncorked the bottle, wishing to waste no more time. It felt like a complete betrayal of the loyalty he had shown Mozenrath for all this time, but what other choice did he have? As he turned it, Mozenrath detected what he was about to do, and reached for a shovel that was half sticking out of the collected debris, ready to use it as a weapon. The water was splashed all over Mozenrath, and just before his hand could close around the handle of the shovel, the young sorcerer collapsed entirely.

The Huntsman slowly knelt, dislodging more assorted objects in the process. He kept a firm eye fixed upon Mozenrath, waiting for him to wake from his short period of blankness.

Then Mozenrath shifted, squirmed, propped himself up on his hands so he could look at the Huntsman. The expression on his face was one of sincere confusion as he asked, "And you would be…?"
"I am the Huntsman," the Huntsman replied. "You once knew me by another name, but I am not about to tell it to you here in the open. I know things must seem strange and unfamiliar. For your own sake, you must believe what I am about to tell you. I am about to tell you who you are."

"Who I am?" Mozenrath replied tentatively. "I don't…I don't know who I am. How do I know you're not lying to me?"
"Because I am a…friend," the Huntsman told him. "Your name is Mozenrath. You are a sorcerer and a conqueror. You came here to this world with myself and one other in order to take the throne, but you succumbed to madness in the process. This world is no longer safe for us, and we must find a way to return home. We have made one accomplice here, and will be bringing her with us. Home is…a rather complicated matter, one which we can explain to you further when we are long gone from this City. It is dangerous for you to remain here longer, for it will ravage what is left of your mind. This entire world is the reason you remember nothing."

Mozenrath was left unsure how to respond. He had reason neither to believe nor for disbelief in what the Huntsman had just said. It was only now occurring to him how little he knew, and it frightened him. To be a sorcerer and a conqueror sounded fitting; those were glamorous titles that appealed to him. He longed to be able to know that identity for himself, and, even more, his own name.

"We must hurry!" the Huntsman insisted.

"I don't…" Mozenrath sputtered.

"I don't," the Huntsman interrupted, "wish to see the toll taken on your mind if you remain here."

"We'll go," Mozenrath decided. What reason did he have not do? What would happen to him if he refused? "But you'd better explain…everything along the way."

"And I will," the Huntsman vowed. He stood up straight, a difficult task on unstable ground. "Come with me." He extended a hand downward.

Mozenrath refused it, standing up of his own accord and looking around, taking in the sight of where, exactly, he was. As the Huntsman descended the junk pile, Mozenrath did so as well.

"It really looks more like some sort of modern art than a throne," Yzma remarked. "Something some upstart would throw together and think was a masterpiece reflection of his genius mind. May the gods forbid we ever get anything like THIS decorating the hallways."

The Huntsman approached with Mozenrath in tow. "This is Yzma," he said with a gesture toward her. "She is the one who came to this world with us. And this is Xayide." He shifted his hand to gesture to her. "We met her here and took her into our fold as a diplomat and fellow sorceress."

Mozenrath nodded. Though neither was outright familiar to him, he realized that he had a sort of sense, the same sense he had about the Huntsman, come to think of it, that they were something safe, secure. And he would be safe and secure with them.

"Don't you DARE make us go halfway around the world to find you again!" Yzma snapped.

"Yzma," the Huntsman cautioned. "He doesn't remember."

Yzma nodded somberly. "Well, we have quite a few things to catch you up on. It will be easier once we get you home. Which is where we're going. Just as soon as…" Yzma was suddenly stricken with horror. She slowly turned to the Huntsman. "You said he…would have forgotten all his magic?"

"Magic?" Mozenrath answered for her. "I don't KNOW any magic!"

"And you…" Yzma turned to Xayide. "You wouldn't happen to know how to make a portal to leave this world, would you?"
"I was not aware there was a simple way for us to cross worlds," Xayide admitted. "I only know how the human Bastian gained entry, and it was not easy."

"So NOBODY knows how to get us off this world?" Yzma reiterated.

The horror sunk in among herself and the Huntsman.

"If nothing else, I can teach you to make a home here," Xayide suggested.

"And on the bright side, thanks to this apparent and sudden memory loss, I guess I don't know what I'm missing," Mozenrath sighed.

"You don't understand," Yzma sputtered. "We CAN'T stay in this world! The others won't know where to come looking for us! We can't progress with our scheme of multi-world domination! If we try to dominate anything here, we end up in THIS situation all over again! The only option is for us to become – " She gasped dramatically. "…Peasants." She gagged on the word.

"We will find a way home," the Huntsman insisted. "For now, let us focus on leaving the City behind." He turned and stalked down the street.

Mozenrath followed like a puppy after an owner; the Huntsman was having trouble adjusting to the idea that Mozenrath now had to follow where he, the Huntsman, led. Yzma and Xayide brought up the rear of the group, and they set out once more, though now, they did not know their destination.

"So you said you'd explain," Mozenrath pointed out as they put distance between themselves and the City. "You know, who I am, what I'm trying to conquer, where exactly 'home' is, all those finicky little details."

"Right," Yzma replied, taking the reins of the conversation. "Well, you come from a place called the Land of the Black Sands, where you ruled over basically nothing in an impressively flamboyant way."

"Ruling over nothing doesn't sound like me," Mozenrath replied, "but I like the sounds of 'impressively flamboyant.'"

"Well, apparently, one day you got bored of that," Yzma went on, "and you decided to bother Maleficent."

"Who's Maleficent?"

"This is going to be a long trip."

...

In the streets of the Black Sands, the Heartless rounded up the flaming cats. As the Heartless were, by nature, without fear, it was a simple task for them to corner the cats, cause them to shrink for fear starvation, and then rip them apart, in some cases devouring them.

After a particular group had done exactly that, a column of orange flame erupted from down the street, and Hades, bright orange in skin tone, stormed forth from it. "WHERE! IS! SHE!"

The Heartless looked at each other, confused.

"I KNOW who's responsible for this!" Hades roared. "So if any of you glowy-eyed nimrods finds a giant walking black cat, you bring her to me IMMEDIATELY! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" He then shook his head. "No. Of course you don't. You're just Heartless. I don't know why I routinely think talking to you does any good. You just keep milling about and running into walls or whatever it is you do. Oh, and keep eating those cats. I want those cats OBLITERATED. Capisce?"

The Heartless looked at him blankly.

"Oy."

Hades returned to the Citadel, where he found Jafar awaiting him in the atrium. "You're SURE this is Mirage."

"Not only are these feline intruders one of her personal hallmarks," Jafar confirmed, "but Mirage herself seems to have escaped the Crystal of Ix."

"I KNEW we should have had more security on that thing!" Hades growled. "But nooooooooo!"

"In all fairness," Jafar responded, "the Crystal was secure. The only way for Mirage to have broken free is if someone had let her out."

"And when I find out who did it," Hades seethed, "they are becoming a permanent addition to the river Styx." He sighed, cooling back to blue. "Let's just get our eye in the sky to see how the Heartless are doing against the cats."

Together, Jafar and Hades made their way to a tower balcony that offered a good view of the entire city below, including the crystal posts set up to detect magic. When they arrived, there was already someone standing there, her back to them both.

"YOU!" Hades and Jafar snapped at once.

Mirage slowly turned around, chuckling in a low voice. "Me."

"You're DEAD!" Hades, flaring up orange, tossed a ball of flame at Mirage.

She vanished, reappearing behind them. "Careful," she said playfully. "Fire from a god himself might actually burn me. Of course, you'll have to catch me first."

"Have you merely come to gloat?" Jafar asked, rounding on her and aiming his staff; he knew the red lightning that emitted from it would miss – she teleported just a few feet to the side – but it was better than doing nothing.

"Yes and no," Mirage answered coolly. "I just wanted to tell you in person that I take offense to Maleficent calling herself the 'Mistress of All Evil.' That title has belonged to me since before she was born, and I intend to earn it back."

Hades and Jafar tried launching fire at her in synchronization, but she vanished again, reappearing behind them once more and causing them to turn around to face her a second time. "This was just your last warning," she cackled.

"Who freed you from your prison?" Jafar demanded.

Mirage knew that selling out the names of her rescuers would put Maleficent's associates hot on their trail, more so than ever before. And watching the fallout would have been glorious. However, Mirage realized what might benefit her more in the long run was a plain and simple lie. One that would make her opponents feel less secure in their ability to contain her. "No one freed me," she said with a smile. "Your prison simply wasn't strong enough to hold me."

She then slashed her hands through the air, two sets of claw-mark-shaped energy beams hurtling toward Jafar and Hades. As the duo reeled from impact, Mirage vanished again, this time for good.

...

At the back maintenance door of the Judovits-Sabara Museum, had any do-gooder been there, they might have been baffled by the sight that awaited them just long enough for the villains gathered to make an escape. For Roman Torchwick, Archibald Snatcher, Mad Madam Mim, Ayam Aghoul, and Firefly were waiting patiently outside the door, counting in unison: "One hundred and twenty-eight…one hundred and twenty-nine…one hundred and thirty…"

The door swung open, Ragdoll leaning on the frame inside.

"ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY-ONE!" his assorted associates proclaimed.

"It took me two minutes and eleven seconds to bust this door?" Ragdoll determined. "Hm. I must be getting rusty."

"Let's just get in, get what we came for, and get out," Roman commanded, stepping over the threshold.

As the group of six neared the location of the exhibit, Roman remarked, "It's really kinda pathetic that the new Joker didn't think of this first."

"Who's to say he didn't?" Snatcher pointed out. "We should be on guard."

"Relax," Roman told him. "Nobody has tripped an alarm yet. We got in because we have Mister Twister to circumvent the system. Do they have somebody who can get around the security system and open the door for THEM? I don't think so."

They rounded the corner to find the exhibit waiting for them – and Karlo, Krank, Gearhead, Poison Ivy, Ventriloquist, Rhino, and Mugsy waiting in front of it.

"Um, they have me," Karlo pointed out. "Clayface. Literally made of clay. I'm offended you forgot."

"Get over it, Karlo," Poison Ivy snapped.

"Aren't you guys missing somebody?" Roman pointed out. "Lemme guess. He's standing around the corner, waiting to step out and make some dramatic entrance. Come on out and hit me with it, Joker."

There was a tense silence before Ventriloquist informed Roman through Scarface that "He's not here, dummy!"

"We're doing this job on our own," Gearhead added. "He said we were good enough that we didn't NEED him or Harley."

"So he chickened out and let you all do his dirty work," Roman pointed out. "Stunning example of leadership, really. So, should we just cut right to the chase? Because I think we all know we're not leaving here without a fight. REALLY too bad Bozo couldn't show up, though. I kinda need to kill that guy. Looks like I'm just gonna have to settle for…" He lifted the Cudgel, pointing it at the Ventriloquist. "The dummy with the dummy and his dumber sidekicks." He waved the Cudgel about. "And then the rest of you if I have time."

"Aw, you're not gonna leave any for us?" Mim pouted.

"Point," Roman amended. "I kill one of you, and my friends get to kill the rest of you. Then everyone wins! On our side, anyway."

"You wanna make this a game?" Krank withdrew a remote, pressing a button that summoned a host of Zoom Pets to march around the corner, knife-like claws protruding from their plush paws. "Because I've got all the pieces in place! And by these rules, nobody says 'Sorry' when somebody gets knocked off the board!"

"I warned you not to play with dolls," Ragdoll countered. "As it is, I can see I'm going to have to run you ragged."

Gearhead snapped his fingers, and a yellow motorcycle careened around the corner of another hall. "Well, then, I'm going to have to drive you crazy," he threatened as he mounted the bike.

"We're already crazy," Mim reminded him.

"If you're trying to scare me to death, you're a little too late," Aghoul added.

"You do know this rose has thorns, right?" Poison Ivy countered.

"Heh," Firefly chuckled, "you call that a sick burn – "

"ENOOUUUUUUGH!" Roman yelled, clutching at his hair. "ENOUGH WITH THE BANTER AND THE BAD PUNS! SERIOUSLY! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU GOTHAM TYPES? IS THIS ALL YOU DO ALL DAY? SIT AROUND AND WRITE THESE TERRIBLE PUNS?" He rounded on Mim and Aghoul. "And YOU TWO! STOP ENCOURAGING THE REST OF THEM!"

There was another tense silence before Roman turned back to the offending seven. "With that out of the way," he said, "let's light it up."

"That was banter, you know," Firefly pointed out.

"FUCK IT!" Roman yelled, charging right at Ventriloquist.

Seven and six rushed each other, clashing at a midpoint.

...

High above, the Joker kept watch over the museum from the airship's monitors. "Everyone is present and accounted for!" he announced upon seeing Roman's contingent enter the building.

"Too bad we can't be there to see the throwdown," Harley sighed.

"We'll get the security footage later," Joker told her. "For now, just kick back and relax. At least you won't have to throw any punches at your old friends."

"True," Harley mused. "Y'know, you really are better than the last Mr. J. He wouldn't be that considerate about this sort of thing. He'd try and make me go bash Firefly's head in while he tied Ragsy in knots."

"I know it will take me a while to earn your trust," Joker told Harley, patting her gently atop the head, "but I do hope you'll give me the chance."

"Of course!" Harley affirmed.

Joker nodded to Maleficent. "If it pleases you, Mistress, make sure no one can leave the party early."

Maleficent cast a shimmering spell that washed over the whole museum, encasing it in a magical barrier. It took some effort to keep from laughing. For while Joker hadn't told Harley about the little surprise he'd arranged, for obvious reasons, Maleficent knew all about it.

...

As Roman advanced upon the Ventriloquist, the latter's free hand moved briskly, and Scarface was soon outfitted with a flamethrower. It took a quick dodge on Roman's part to avoid being seared.

"I'm being shot at by a ventriloquist dummy," he groaned. "The worst part is I can't actually tell if this is the weirdest thing to happen to me." He fired the Cudgel at the Ventriloquist.

Rhino dove, tackling the Ventriloquist and ducking under the fire. He then got to his feet immediately, throwing a punch at Roman. Roman sidestepped it, parrying the burly arm with the Cudgel.

Mugsy took the opportunity to sneak up behind Roman with a knife, raising his hand high for a stab. The chain of Snatcher's weapon wrapped around his arm, jerking it back and causing him to drop the knife on his foot; he roared with pain. Hearing a telltale "click," he twisted his body this way and that to avoid being shot through with lightning from the barrel of Snatcher's weapon.

Rhino grabbed Roman's arm, forcing it behind his back in a lock, twisting Roman to face away from him. "Any last words?" he growled.

"Just a bit of advice," Roman said casually. "Disarm a guy before you put him in a hold."

The hand held behind his back was still gripping the Cudgel, which was pointed at the floor, angled toward Rhino's feet. With a BOOM, the floor exploded, sending Rhino flying against the wall until he was unconscious. Roman then turned his weapon toward Mugsy, but Snatcher beat him to the punch, landing a shot that sizzled with electricity throughout the thug's body. As Mugsy dropped to the ground, a faint burning smell went up through the air.

Roman then turned back to the Ventriloquist, who was getting up gingerly. "Don't take another step closer!" Scarface threatened. "I'll – "

"Shut. UP." Roman swiped the Cudgel at the Ventriloquist, knocking him back down. He then reached down and, with one forceful pull, pried Scarface from the Ventriloquist's hands.

"No…no, please, don't!" the Ventriloquist begged. "I need him!"

"You NEED him?" Roman mocked. "Oh, you NEED him! In that case, I'll go easy on him. After all, you had your guys go easy on the one I need. Right? Didn't you? Oh, wait, I'm thinking of the opposite. You stopped being able to use NEEDING this thing as an excuse when you fucked with my partner!"

The Ventriloquist flinched.

Roman tossed Scarface back over his shoulder; Snatcher caught it. "Something tells me this is going to taste sweeter for you than it is for me," Roman said, firing a wink in Snatcher's direction.

Snatcher wasted no time in laying Scarface on the ground and raising the mallet of his weapon high.

"NO!" the Ventriloquist cried out in vain.

With a single blow, Scarface was dashed to pieces. A second, third, fourth, and fifth blow smashed each of the dummy's parts beyond recognition.

"You…you…" The Ventriloquist gritted his teeth. "I'LL MAKE YOU PAY FOR THAT!" He rushed Roman.

Roman laughed. "What are you going to do – "

The Ventriloquist landed a punch to Roman's throat, causing him to stagger and gag.

"Now, what was that safety hazard Krank Co. got sued over?" Firefly mocked as a horde of Zoom Pets closed in around him. "Oh, yeah. Fire hazards!" He spun in place, using his gauntlets to set each of the Zoom Pets ablaze.

As their metal skeletons were revealed, the sound of whizzing metal pierced the air. One of Gearhead's nanotechnology bolts found its way to stick to a now skinless Zoom Pet, infecting it, causing its claws to grow longer and its mouth to sprout needle-like fangs. More and more bolts struck the remaining Zoom Pets, speeding them up.

"You are KIDDING ME!" Firefly yelled before taking off straight upward, letting the Zoom Pets descend upon each other. The now possessed toys tore at their fellows for only moments before spotting Firefly in the air. Firefly set his sights upon Krank himself, aiming both gauntlets.

Then Krank stepped onto his Cosmo Flier, launching into the air himself and zigzagging to avoid Firefly's fire. "TOO SLOW!" he laughed. Meanwhile, the Zoom Pets had begun to stack on each other's head to make a column tall enough to reach Firefly. Firefly noticed this almost too late, darting across the room before the topmost toy could rip his fuel tank open.

Another bolt began to whistle its way toward said tank in an attempt by Gearhead to ground Firefly. The bolt, however, was snagged not long after launch in a long-fingered hand. Ragdoll was almost surprised at himself for being able to catch it, staring at it for a moment before throwing it right back at Gearhead.

Gearhead let the bolt stick to his bike; it had no effect. "What'd you expect that to do?" he asked. "Did you think you were gonna beat me by siccing my own tech on me?"

"Actually, no," Ragdoll told him. "I thought I was going to beat you by doing THIS." He performed a handspring, leaping gracefully through the air, reaching out with all four limbs and wrapping himself around Gearhead, trying to drag the motorist down off the bike.

"Let…GO!" Gearhead took off on the bike, hoping to gain enough velocity to throw Ragdoll off. Ragdoll tightened his grip, moving his hands to Gearhead's throat, which Ragdoll knew couldn't be cybernetic. "I SAID GET OFF!" Gearhead yelled, using one hand to block Ragdoll's strangulation attempt while the other was firmly planted on the steering mechanism taking the bike round and round in circles.

"Let's make this quick," Poison Ivy said with a smirk, blowing a kiss of spores at Mim.

"OHHHH NO YOU DON'T!" Mim snapped her fingers, and the cloud of spores burned into one of ash. "Your little tricks won't work on me!"

"Maybe that trick didn't," Poison Ivy said, waving her hand. "I'll probably have better luck with this one."

Gigantic Venus Flytraps sauntered around the corner on their roots, snapping at Mim.

"Now you're just cheating!" Mim huffed. "All that stuff you hid down the hall! It's not fair! WE didn't even figure out a way to cheat yet, and cheating is my favorite part!" She morphed into a human-sized squirrel, one of the few predators known that could devour Venus Flytraps. She sank her teeth into the stalk of one of the plants before it could do the same to her, nibbling enough to cause the plant to shudder.

"VENUS FLYTRAPS ARE RARE!" Poison Ivy yelled. At her outburst, a host of vines shot around the corner, wrapping up the squirrel Mim.

Mim next took on a form that was able to sever her bonds with the swipe of one claw; inspired, she had morphed into the shape of one of the skeletal Zoom Pets.

Ayam Aghoul called scythe to hand, slicing deep into Karlo's body; he flinched as he watched it take on the consistency of clay and simply mold over the incision he had made. "Looks like I was right not to bring my camera for this one," Karlo taunted. "Beating you is gonna be too easy to make good television."

"I don't even see what Mim sees in you," Aghoul huffed.

Karlo morphed into a great clay beast, towering over Aghoul.

"All right, NOW I'm starting to see it!" Aghoul remarked.

Karlo threw a punch with an overlarge, viscous arm; Aghoul sliced it right off before it could reach him. Ten more arms erupted from Karlo's body, forming into sharp and pointed shapes before curving around to attack Aghoul from all angles. Aghoul spun his scythe deftly, cutting off each appendage before it could reach him. He made a dive at Karlo's center, swiping the scythe. Karlo simply opened a hole in what might have been called his chest so that Aghoul could pass right through, then reformed once Aghoul landed on his feet on the other side. "Just face it!" Karlo laughed as his face appeared on the other side of his hulking body. "You're not gonna beat me that way!"

"You didn't happen to see a skull-shaped bomb anywhere, did you?" Aghoul said with a smirk as he turned back to face Karlo. "I think I might have dropped it while I was passing through you."

"WHAT – "

The bomb Aghoul had implanted in Karlo on his leap through erupted, turning Karlo into an avalanche of falling clay. The floor beneath was already weak from Roman's earlier Cudgel-fire, and Aghoul fell straight through it to the basement below. Pieces of Karlo did as well, struggling to crawl back up to form a whole.

Aghoul got to his feet, dusting himself off and looking at the not-so-neat hole that had been blown in the ceiling above. The sounds of the battle raging carried down, and Aghoul at first cared about nothing but getting back into the thick of it; Karlo would reform in very little time.

Then he noticed the smell. At first, it didn't bother him. He knew what it was, but to one undead as himself, it wasn't a problem at all. Horror set in once Aghoul realized that his five allies, being alive, wouldn't be so lucky as he was.

Up top, Roman and Snatcher had gone back-to-back to fend off the now conscious Rhino and Mugsy while the Ventriloquist watched nervously. Poison Ivy's plants threatened time and time again to stymie Mim as she slashed at their vines with her new metal claws. Firefly chased Krank round and round the upper part of the room while the Zoom Pets swarmed below. Gearhead zigzagged, trying to find the right momentum to throw Ragdoll off balance, as Ragdoll kept his grip, moving a hand to cover Gearhead's eyes. Karlo pieced himself back together, ready for another round. It was in the midst of all this that Aghoul teleported to the upper floor, screaming out, "POISON GAS! POISON IN THE BASEMENT!"

Everyone froze for a moment. Then Krank said "Nice try" and the fight resumed.

"I MEAN IT!" Aghoul barked. "I can tell the smell of something deadly anywhere! If I had been alive when I landed in that basement, you wouldn't even have this warning! There's a gas being released into this museum, and it's on its way UP!"

Poison Ivy snapped her fingers, and one of her Venus Flytraps hopped down through the hole in the floor. "Stop trying to distract us," she said confidently. "If there was really a poison gas down there, my Flytrap would be – "

The plant shuddered, falling limply to the floor, unable to rise again. The edges of its jaws turned black, beginning to curl.

"He is NOT LYING!" Poison Ivy yelled, suddenly in a panic.

Then everyone froze for real.

"You know what?" Roman decided. "Forget the exhibit. Forget putting you losers in your place. We're getting out of here with our LIVES. So out of our way!" Roman shoved past the dazed Mugsy, leading the charge. Snatcher was the first to follow; Mim, Aghoul, and Ragdoll fell into line after him. Firefly outpaced him, guessing his trajectory to the museum atrium.

"I don't want to die here either!" the Ventriloquist whimpered.

"None of us do!" Gearhead informed him, sliding his bike up next to Poison Ivy; Krank lowered the Cosmo Flier to get next to Ventriloquist. "Now get on, and let's make tire tracks!"

Poison Ivy settled on the bike's seat right behind Gearhead, Ventriloquist stepped up onto the Cosmo Flier, and the two vehicles took off after Roman's group. Rhino and Mugsy charged on foot while Karlo followed in the form of a crashing clay wave – he knew well enough that in his current state, he couldn't be damaged by poison gas, but where his team went, he would follow.

The Joker had determined long ago that if it meant getting rid of Roman and his accomplices, his own team of Arkham inmates was expendable. They were bait; a diversion to keep Roman from noticing his impending death. Not to mention the Joker derived a little pleasure out of simply killing off the other big names in Gotham; any one of them could have proved to be competition one day. A failsafe had been installed, and Firefly was the first to discover it as he blasted the doors of the museum only to have his fire rebound at him. No matter how thick the museum doors, he knew, that shouldn't have happened. As the rest of his entourage filed into the atrium, Firefly hoisted up the heaviest statue he could lift and lobbed it at a glass window. The window shattered, but the statue still bounced off something and was thrown back down to the floor, where it broke into pebbles.

"Bad news, guys," Firefly said as he zipped down to floor level. "I should have been able to punch a hole in this building twice now, and it's not working."

"Let me take a look," Mim suggested. "If this ends up being a barrier spell, I'm going to be good and mad!" She levitated herself up to the window, tapping at the invisible force that surrounded it. "That's a BARRIER, all right!" she growled through gritted teeth.

By then, the opposing team had also entered the open hall. "What's going on here?" Poison Ivy demanded.

"They trapped us in here," Roman said in a daze that was half panic and half anger. "They sealed up the building with magic so we'd ALL go down!"

"There's no such thing as magic!" Krank insisted. "Watch!" He steered the Cosmo Flier full speed at another window.

"I wouldn't – " Snatcher began to warn.

Krank and the Ventriloquist collided with the barrier at full speed, ricocheting back as the glass broke around them.

"You know, if our lives weren't on the line, that would probably have been hilarious," Ragdoll pointed out.

"MIM!" Roman yelled. "TELEPORT US OUT OR SOMETHING!"

Mim, back on the ground, had already tried and failed to conjure a Corridor of Darkness, followed by a simple spell to simply zap herself outside of the building. "That barrier's keeping us sealed up tight!" she growled. "When I get my hands on Maleficent, ooooooh, she's going to PAY for this!"

"I'm beginning to doubt you'll get the chance," Snatcher told her.

"DON'T YOU EVEN START!" Roman yelled. "We are GETTING OUT OF HERE!"

"We'd at least better move higher up," Aghoul suggested. "I'm starting to smell it getting closer…"

Firefly cut a neat circular hole, about ten feet in diameter, in the ceiling to the floor above. He then swooped back down to pick up Ragdoll, carrying the latter to higher ground. Mim's teleportation proved to work within the confines of the museum; she easily brought herself, Aghoul, Roman, and Snatcher one floor up. Krank and Ventriloquist were next up on the Flier; Karlo carried Poison Ivy, Gearhead, Rhino, and Mugsy up in a column of clay.

The windows on the upper floor were protected by the same barrier as those below, as Roman found out through trial and error. "It's okay," he tried to tell himself. "Even if we do die, Righty can just bring us all back. Right?"

"If he figures out we died at all," Aghoul pointed out. "After all, it's just going to be me and the clay one left, and we'll still be sealed in here until Maleficent figures out what to do with us. It better not involve the Netherworld. I don't WANT to go back to the NETHERWORLD!"

"Don't worry, sweetie," Mim reassured. "It's Maleficent. She's got something more agonizing in mind than just sending you back to the Netherworld!"

"NOT HELPING!" Roman yelled. "Okay, new plan. Climb. Keep climbing. Get to the top to buy time, THEN figure out what to do."

And so the unlucky thirteen rose another floor, then another, only to find the ceiling would not break and the only stairway to the roof led to an impossibly sealed door.

"This is not how I wanna go," Roman said softly. "Seriously. I didn't think it could get worse than being eaten by a fucking Grimm, but here we are. I'm seriously going to die here because some JOKER outsmarted me and out-magicked Mim." He kept his gaze focused on the floor, not wanting to betray his fear.

"You think WE wanna die here?" Gearhead snapped. "Stuck with all of YOU?"

The Ventriloquist had simply found a corner to sit in, arms wrapped around knees, and await his fate, wishing Scarface hadn't been dashed to pieces, for now, in what he was sure would be his final hour, his mind felt ever so empty and lonely.

"Hey, R.D…" Firefly said tentatively. "If we don't make it outta here…you should know…" He stared Ragdoll directly in the X-shaped eyes on his mask. "You're the best partner a guy could ask for." His voice cracked.

"I love you too," Ragdoll replied. He then swept Firefly into a rather awkward embrace, having to work around the fuel tank; Firefly clutched Ragdoll with a tight grip.

"If I don't make it," Mim told Aghoul, "give Maleficent a good fight, and when you land a particularly nasty blow, tell her it was from me!"

"I will," Aghoul vowed. "I'm going to miss you, Mad Madam Mim." His hand slid into hers, his cold fingers intertwining with her rather chubby ones.

Snatcher gingerly approached Roman, who he could tell was losing grip. He gently placed a hand on Roman's shoulder, and softly, he muttered, "Torchwick…it seems as though everyone else is paying last respects. You should know – "

Roman turned suddenly, clutching at the sides of Snatcher's face, pulling him into a long, deep kiss. When Roman let go, Snatcher, stunned and having to deal with a now elevated heart rate, remarked, "Can't really think of what to say that's better than that. That about summed it up, really."

"I'm not dying here," Roman resolved, looking Snatcher dead in the eye. "WE'RE not dying here. And if I AM going to die here, I AM GOING TO GO DOWN FIGHTING, OKAY?"

"Torchwick – !"

Roman turned and ran for the stairs again, banging his fists on the door that would have led to the roof and escape, working the handle again and again to no avail. He intended to keep doing so up until his last moment, at least trying to break free of the fate Maleficent and the Joker had spun for him. He would have kept banging on the door until his hands bled.

But there was one thing on that particular world – something that existed in any world containing a Gotham, though from a planet a good deal further away – that could punch a hole in even a barrier forged by Maleficent, and it did so at that moment, striking the walls of the museum only once and causing the entire barrier to dispel. That material was known on that world as "Nth element." And someone wielding a mace composed of it had just shown up.

The door handle suddenly turned in Roman's grasp, and Roman spilled out onto the roof, into clean, fresh air. It took him a moment to realize what had just happened before he thought to turn and run back down the stairwell. Skidding in among his friends and rivals, he announced, "So I MIGHT have just opened up a door to the outside – "

He was nearly bowled over by everyone present rushing for the stairwell, speeding up the stairs to freedom.

"How did you do it?" Snatcher asked as he grabbed hold of Roman's arm to drag him along; Roman was rather too stunned to move at first.

"I have no idea," Roman admitted.

"Then you realize it probably wasn't you – "

"Still taking credit for it."

They emerged atop the roof to find the assorted criminals staring down six newcomers: a winged man, a man clad in green and sporting a glimmering ring of the same shade, a young man dressed all in red, a more muscular man clad in red and blue who hovered a foot off the ground, a man whose green ensemble was topped off by a rather old-fashioned hat and who clutched a bow and arrow in his hands, and a Martian of bright jade-colored skin.

"Drop whatever you stole," Superman commanded. "Your stunt bribing Freeze to attack downtown might have distracted the Batman, but the rest of us – "

"Wait," Martian Manhunter bade him. "They have taken nothing. There is a dangerous gas being released in the museum, and they have only just been able to break free of a supernatural barrier keeping them inside. Hawkman's Nth element must have been responsible for freeing them."

"It was TOTALLY me!" Roman groaned.

"We must get to safety first," Martian Manhunter advised. "All of us. Then we will discuss what to do with them."

Everyone's attention was suddenly diverted to a great mass of silver becoming visible in the skies above. The Joker's airship was no longer cloaked.

Roman glared daggers at it, recognizing it immediately, wanting nothing more than to bring it down in flames with the mere power of his mind. As it stood, he was going to have to complete the job the hard way. "Firefly!" he snapped.

"Yo," Firefly replied.

"Get me onto that airship," Roman snarled.

"Torchwick, you can't," Snatcher whispered to him. "Maleficent's up there. You don't stand a chance – "

"Let's GO, Gar!" Roman insisted, ignoring Snatcher.

Firefly seized Roman around the waist and took off into the sky.

Superman and Hawkman both made to follow, but Green Lantern reminded them, "Wait! We have the rest of THEM to deal with first. I guess we're…saving their lives?"

"Well, this is embarrassing for everyone involved," Ragdoll remarked.

"We also have to shut down whatever's feeding the gas into the building," Superman recalled. "Whatever's up there will have to wait."

As Firefly and Roman neared the looming airship, Firefly asked, "So, uh, do you have a plan or anything?"

"Kick Joker's ass," Roman growled.

"Yeah, but do you have an actual PLAN for – "

"No! I don't! I don't have a plan. All I know is that this guy has crossed me one too many times, and now he has to pay his due."

"Normally, this is where I'd turn around because this is an obvious suicide mission," Firefly replied, "but I feel about the same way. Let's bring him down WHAM ARMY style."

"Just cool it with the fire puns, okay?"

"Did you just tell me to COOL it with the FIRE – "

"Don't even start."

Atop the airship, Joker, Harley, and Maleficent waited, watching the sky. "You realize makin' us visible is gonna make 'em wanna come up here, right?" Harley asked.

"That's the idea, dear Harley!" Joker laughed.

Upon reaching the roof, Firefly gently dropped Roman, then landed adjacent to him, both pyromaniacs striking a pose of battle. "I've had just about enough of this, Joker," Roman growled.

"Seriously, Harley, after all this, you're still siding with HIM?" Firefly added.

"After all what?" Harley asked. "After we roughed you guys up a bit and beat you to the punch on that Roman Empire stuff? That still doesn't begin to compare to what you did to me and Mr. J.!"

"Wait a minute," Firefly realized. "Did you actually know – "

Before he could ask if Harley had knowledge of the poison gas, Maleficent struck the base of her staff against the ship's roof, sending a shockwave that knocked Firefly off the ship altogether. As Firefly regained his balance, Maleficent raised her staff high, calling upon a rain of "METEORS OF HEAVEN!" to descend upon him. Firefly was suddenly caught up in dodging this way and that in order to preserve his life in the face of the immense glowing projectiles.

"THAT'S IT!" Roman ran at the Joker full speed, brandishing the Cudgel.

The Joker withdrew a host of knives from inside his jacket, letting them all fly at Roman. Roman hit the floor, the knives passing over him and tinkling softly to the surface of the roof behind him. Roman quickly twisted the Cudgel around to point at where the Joker was, only to find that he had moved; a heavy foot planted into Roman's back, pinning him down. As the Joker stood over Roman, he became aware of the barrel of the Cudgel jamming up against his face.

"Oh, dear," the Joker teased. "However SHALL I get out of this one?" He rubbed his palms together, and Roman heard a slight crackling noise. Then the Joker seized the shaft of the Cudgel, activating a pair of warped joy buzzers in his hands. The shock ran down through the length of the weapon and into Roman's hand. Roman dropped the weapon with a howl as the electricity surged through him.

"Hm…I had rather wanted to punctuate that by saying 'Shocking, isn't it?'" the Joker remarked. "But that one's a bit overdone, don't you think? Speaking of overdone, that's exactly how much I intend you to get cooked!" He slammed both hands down directly onto Roman's back, filling Roman's every nerve with electricity.

The Meteors of Heaven dissipated in the air, leaving Firefly with what he thought was a clear shot at the airship. What he didn't count on was Maleficent being willing to bring out a generous amount of her power to bring him out of play. She strode confidently toward the edge of the airship, staring Firefly down.

"You don't know the first thing about the powers you trifle with," she said with a smile before her physical form erupted upward and surged forth. It took Firefly a moment to realize what he was looking at: an immense jet-black dragon flying straight at him, jaws snapping to swallow him. The gravity of the situation sank in just in time for him to move; he avoided Maleficent's razor-sharp teeth closing around him by a hair. He turned his gauntlets on her, but to no effect; the blast almost seemed to get absorbed by her scaly skin. Her whipping tail snapped against Firefly hard, sending him reeling through the air, disoriented.

"I don't know about you, but I'm having SO much fun!" the Joker laughed amidst Roman's screams. "Though I think there's someone here who wants to have even MORE fun with you. Harley?" He let up on the electric surge, standing to full height; Roman found he could barely move. "Why don't you give the one who killed your puddin' what's coming to him?"
"Gladly," Harley said coldly, approaching Roman with a baseball bat hoisted high.

Before Roman could protest, the bat was brought down hard upon his back. Then again, and the third time, he felt something crack. He fumbled to pick up the Cudgel, but his hand missed repeatedly.

Firefly regained his bearings just in time to realize Maleficent's head was directly before him, drawing breath to fuel a surge of green flame. He briefly wondered what he wanted his last words to be.

Then another large object, a blur of purple about the size of Maleficent, shoved in between the two of them, acting as a shield to catch the brunt of the flames that Maleficent shot forth. It took Firefly a full half minute to realize that something was another dragon: one much more rounded in shape than Maleficent. The other half of that minute was spent realizing that it wasn't just a dragon, but Mad Madam Mim.

"OUCH!" Mim shrieked as the fire scorched but didn't penetrate her scales. "That hurt! You know, I've had just about enough of you, missy!" She practically tackled Maleficent in the air, and the two dragons set about clawing and scratching at each other. Maleficent was more adept at this form of combat than Mim, and left deep gouges in the purple dragon's sides.

Firefly made, no pun intended, a beeline for where he saw Harley beating Roman and Joker watching with a wide smile. "HARLEY!" he screamed. "HE'S LYING TO YOU – "

He didn't notice Diablo biting into one of the lines of his fuel tank until the propulsion sputtered out. A mere ten feet away from the airship, Firefly found himself plummeting through the air, unable to regain flight. "No," he muttered, "no, no, NONONONONONONO – "

Mim spied his fall out of the corner of her eye. She kicked Maleficent in the stomach with both hind legs, shoving the black dragon away just long enough to make a dive after her comrade. She was able to catch Firefly in one fore-claw, cradling him there.

"Thanks," Firefly panted, too stunned to stand, taking advantage of the moment to just lie still.

"I always hate this part," Mim bemoaned.

"What part? Part of what?" Firefly asked.

Mim swerved, noticing Maleficent beginning to give chase. "The part where Maleficent and her minions have us outclassed," she said, "and we have to give up and go home. She always ruins our fun!"

"We're GIVING UP?"

"That depends. How's Roman doing?"

"Uhh…last I saw, having the snot beaten out of him by Harley. …Yeah. We should probably cut our losses."

Mim swooped over the airship, flicking Harley away with her free claw and scooping up the now broken and bleeding Roman into it.

"Hey, ROMAN!" Firefly yelled.

Roman didn't answer.
"Not a good sign," Firefly realized.

Mim did a loop-de-loop before Maleficent could catch her, then vanished altogether in a twinkling. Harley, picking herself up, gritted her teeth. "I wasn't DONE WITH HIM!" she screeched.

"There, there," Joker reassured her. "You'll get your chance."

Maleficent landed gracefully on the roof, returning to humanoid form once more. "Consider me impressed with your work here," she said with a smile. "You've performed to my satisfaction and therefore have earned a place among my forces." She smiled at Harley next. "And you to accompany him." She didn't believe Harley had what it took at all, but her loyalty to the Joker could be easily exploited, and Maleficent could think of a couple ways how.

"Wait, huh?" Harley asked. "Accompany new Mr. J…whereabouts, exactly?"

"I'm quite curious to see it myself," Joker admitted. "Maleficent is going to show us a bigger playing field than we could ever imagine!"

"But what about Gotham?" Harley asked.

"We've already got Gotham in the palm of our hand, sweetie!" Joker emphasized. "You think after tonight, we won't be able to do whatever we want when we come back here? Think about the magical worlds you've read about in fairy tales! You'll finally get to visit them all!"

"But…just us?" Harley asked. "What about the others we rounded up for the team? Ivy? Arnie? Nate?"

Joker suspected all of his minions had figured out who planted the poison gas for them to run into, and none of them would be happy about it. "We'll get better ones," he told Harley, giving her a pat on the shoulder.

"But…what about…"

"Oh, don't tell me you're thinking about the firebug and the bendy straw," Joker sighed. "Haven't you figured it out by now? They're not on your side. They don't care about you. They're willing to kill the people you love. They have it out for ME!"

Harley bit her lip, then nodded. "Okay. I'll go with ya."

"I would be ever so lonely if you didn't," the Joker lied.

He, Harley, and Maleficent had vanished by the time Superman, Green Lantern, and Hawkman made it up to the airship to investigate.

Down on the ground, Green Arrow had equipped a rebreather and delved into the depths of the museum to shut down the poison gas. That left Martian Manhunter and the Flash to guard an immense green hemisphere Green Lantern had formed in the street to cage the ne'er-do-wells until the League could figure out what to do with them all. Krank, Gearhead, Karlo, Poison Ivy, Rhino, and Mugsy pounded on the walls of the dome, fruitless as they knew it was. The Ventriloquist stayed off to the side, quietly reflecting. Snatcher and Ragdoll were also quiet; they took their cues from Aghoul. Both knew Aghoul could make a portal to liberate them from the green prison in an instant, but Aghoul was biding his time, and both Snatcher and Ragdoll trusted that he knew what he was doing. They watched from below as Mim teleported herself up to the airship to forge herself into a dragon's body and do combat with Maleficent; they cringed as they watched Maleficent tear into her. Then she vanished from sight.

She reappeared with Roman and Firefly lying to either side of her, her dress soaked through with blood. "MIM!" Aghoul cried in shock.

"Oh, don't make a fuss," Mim insisted, dismissively waving both hands. "It'll heal up into some lovely scars. I'd be more worried about them."

"I'm fine," Firefly announced as he got to his feet; Ragdoll let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "Roman, not so much."

"Torchwick?" Snatcher said cautiously, worriedly, as he knelt over Roman, who lay face down on the ground. "Torchwick, speak to me!"

Roman's only reply was a strained "Eeeeeeegggggghhhhhhh…"

"It's over," Snatcher resolved, standing. "They've won. We can't risk any more damage. We have to bring Torchwick – and Madam Mim – back to our base of operations for medical attention. Mr. Aghoul, if you would?"

"Nnnnn…no," Roman grunted. "Can't…lose."

"Not PERMANENTLY, Torchwick," Snatcher said quickly, knowing that with Roman's body broken, damage to his ego had to be prevented as much as possible. "We need to regroup. Maleficent will add the Joker to her own forces, and we'll meet again on another battlefield, to be sure. We'll just have to have the upper hand then. As for the struggle today, they simply got lucky. It happens every now and again. And it WON'T happen next time."

"Don't wanna go."

"You MUST go, Torchwick!" Snatcher insisted. "It's the only way you'll stand a chance of defeating them when it counts!"

"It counts now…"

"We've only lost a BATTLE, Torchwick! NOT a war!"

There was silence before Roman mumbled, "Fine."

Aghoul put up his hands to cast a Corridor. "In you go, now! All five of you!"

"Wait, all five?" Firefly did a double take. "You're bringing us with?"
"You're part of the team now, aren't you?" Aghoul reminded them. "Unless you WANT to stay in a Gotham that very obviously belongs to the new Joker."

"No thank you," Ragdoll replied. "Though there is the question of Harley…"

"Miss Quinn is long gone to us," Snatcher insisted. "Now, the longer we stay here, the more blood Madam Mim loses." His primary concern was with Roman's health, of course, but reiterating that would only make Roman angrier. "Kindly cast the Corridor in such a way that none of us has to move."

"You got it!" Aghoul snapped his fingers, and the Corridor appeared below them, causing himself, Roman, Mim, Snatcher, Ragdoll, and Firefly to sink in.

"Well, I guess we're really part of the WHAM ARMY now," Firefly remarked as he sank.

"Our adventure is only just beginning!" Ragdoll added.

"Wait!" Poison Ivy yelled. "THEY'RE GETTING AWAY!"

The seven former mercenaries of the Joker rushed to the closing portal, but it swallowed up its six occupants and vanished, leaving Poison Ivy, Krank, Karlo, Gearhead, Ventriloquist, Rhino, and Mugsy to the mercy of the Justice League. The last sound heard was that of Ragdoll yelling "TOODLES, GOTHAM!"

...

As Roman, Snatcher, Aghoul, Mim, Ragdoll, and Firefly were deposited safely on the floor of the control room of the WHAM ARMY warship, Aghoul introduced it: "Welcome to our ship! The cold, dead, unbeating heart of our operation!"

"I'm not sure that's how the expression goes," Ragdoll commented.

"Nice digs," Firefly added.

"Feel free to make yourselves at home," Aghoul went on.

Voices sounded from down the hall; one particularly recognizable female was heard to say "As soon as they get back, I'm kicking all their butts."

"You may not want to do that just yet," Snatcher said as Wuya and Vexen walked into view.

That didn't stop Wuya from rushing toward him and seizing him by the front of the shirt, dragging his face uncomfortably close to hers. "You left me behind to deal with Snipe and his moto-jousting," she hissed, "and the best goodbye you could leave was telling me we NEEDED MORE PEANUT BUTTER?"

"We can discuss this LATER," Snatcher growled. "At the moment, we are in need of medical attention."

"Goodness!" Vexen barked. "What in the WORLD did you do to Torchwick?"

"It was that dirty no-good Maleficent!" Mim huffed.

"What did she do to YOU?" Vexen asked.

"Hopefully, left some nice-looking scars," Mim stated.

"Come quickly," Vexen encouraged, matter-of-fact. "We've got to get you bandaged up." He sounded none too happy about having to do so, but accepted it as his duty. "NOT you, Torchwick. I don't like the way your arm is angled. I'm certain you have multiple broken bones. We'll have to transport you more delicately. Wait here with him until – " He then realized there were two more people there than he had expected. "And WHO are these?" he huffed, gesturing to Ragdoll and Firefly.

"New friends!" Aghoul introduced. "Ragdoll and Firefly!"

"Though the actual name's Garfield Lynns," Garfield stated as he removed his helmet.

Peter whisked off his mask. "And you can call me Peter Merkel."

"Charmed," Vexen growled.

"Charmed?" Peter repeated. "Strange name."

"Actually, that's Vexen," Wuya introduced. "Though most of us refer to him as The Grouchy One when he isn't listening."

"Or Iceman," Roman groaned. "Why hasn't that one caught on?"

"And you would be?" Peter asked.

"Wuya," Wuya replied as Vexen and Aghoul escorted Mim away. "Master of the Heylin arts. If you're going to be permanent residents here, there are a few more people you're going to have to meet."

"Well, if they're anything like the crowd we've met so far, this should be interesting," Garfield remarked. "In the good way."

"Tell me a little more about yourselves," Wuya urged.

"In a sec," Garfield said. "One thing I have to get off the table with Peter first." He turned to face Peter. "Harley didn't know."

"Didn't know what?" Peter asked.

"She didn't know that Joker and this 'Maleficent' or whatever tried to poison us all to death. She still thinks we're the bad guys here. The new Joker is the same song and dance all over again."

"And what does this mean for us, exactly?" Peter asked. "That there's a chance she might be persuaded to our cause?"

"I mean, beating up the boss wasn't exactly getting off on the right foot, but yeah," Garfield confirmed. "Is…Roman the boss around here or…?"

Wuya broke out into laughter at that, which she then had to restrain. "No. He ranks high, but you'll meet the actual boss soon enough. As to whether he's actually better at leading a team than Roman is up for debate."

Snatcher knelt by Roman's side once more as they awaited the return of Vexen. "For what it's worth," Snatcher pointed out, "we did actually have a rather solid dominion over Gotham for quite a while."

"Yeah," Roman muttered. "A while."

"You'll take it all back. You'll take something better, in fact."

"I will!" Roman said a little more confidently.

"All in all," Snatcher concluded, "not a worthless venture. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Yeah," Roman finally relented, starting to believe it.

...

As the small army with Sora and Aladdin at its forefront marched into the Agrabah city gates, all were silent. Upon official entry into the city, Stork sighed before stating, "We should probably bring up the Gorge Sloth in the room."

"Yeah," Jaune agreed.

"Probably," Chip said with a somber nod.

"We lost to those cats because of me," Stork said, his voice trembling. "I couldn't…not be scared for two minutes. If I hadn't been there, we could have stopped those cats from setting our entire plan on fire. So…I'm sorry."

"Wait, you?" Jaune replied. "We lost because of ME. I was the one who couldn't keep my fear under control. Ruby, Ren, and Nora were all cool in the face of danger, and I just wasn't. I'm the one who should be apologizing."

"I honestly thought it was me," Chip chimed in. "I might look all cool on the surface, but usually, during any battle, I'm fighting some pretty strong anxiety. I put up a good enough fight, but I think the cats could still tell I was anxious deep down."

"Well, nobody got seriously hurt," Ruby pointed out. "Maybe there's nothing for anybody to say was anyone's fault anyway."

"It's okay to not be able to get over fear," Kairi added. "Sometimes, you just can't. I've always heard that it's about what you do when you're afraid, anyway."

"I didn't know you got that worked up whenever we faced monsters," Nick admitted to Chip. "Did the rest of you? Vida? Maddie? Xander?"

All three of the mentioned nodded.

"I didn't really know how to bring it up," Chip confessed, "but I've always had anxiety issues. I'm actually on a couple medications for it, so I've been fine, but I've kinda been worried about the fact that I know I'm not going to be able to get any of them out here on this adventure."

"Just talk to the Moogles when we get back to Radiant Garden!" Yuffie encouraged. "The Moogle shops sell all kinds of medicines, and there are plenty of doctors who can see you on short notice to write up a prescription for 'em. Kingdoms like Radiant Garden that have to deal with monster attacks and visitors from other worlds on a daily basis just can't work without a good network of doctors."

"Thanks," Chip sighed with relief. "I'll put it on the to-do list."

Stork mentally weighed whether his fear of letting strangers on a strange world know too much about his history crowded out his suspicion that having a slight chat with a Radiant Garden medical professional might do him some good as well.

As the group entered the palace grounds, they were immediately greeted by the Sultan rushing at them at full speed. "You won't believe it!" he cried. "We've found something amazing hidden in the palace!"

"Father!" Jasmine laughed, glad to see her parent in such a good mood. "Don't you even want to know how our mission went?"
"Oh, of course, of course," the Sultan emphasized with a nod, "but you can tell me on the way!"

And they did, relating to the Sultan that they hadn't found Even and that they had let Mirage loose.

"Oh, dear," the Sultan replied somberly. "But you are all unharmed, yes?"

"Yes, Father," Jasmine confirmed.

"And on the bright side, we know Abis Mal, Haroud Hazi Bin, Amin Damoola, and Mechanicles are all locked up where they can't cause us any trouble," Aladdin added.

"Maybe we shouldn't have left them there," Cadance wondered out loud.

"I am not sure we had any choice," Luna told her.

The Sultan led them all to what appeared to be a blank wall. "AHA!" Papyrus cried. "IT'S A WALL! I WASN'T EXPECTING THAT AT ALL!"

"Oh, it's not the wall that's special," the Sultan said. "It's what's BEHIND the wall." He reached up to tug on the base of a hanging lamp. A section of wall slid away, revealing a narrow stone stairway. "Come on, come on!" the Sultan encouraged, practically dancing up the stairs. "This way!"

The others followed single file, proceeding up the spiral stairs. They led to an open chamber shrouded in shadow and filled with an array of tools and artifacts that looked nothing short of magical. This drew a "whoa" from many of the onlookers.

"Jafar's old lair," Aladdin commented. "I could have sworn you knew about this. Iago let me know where it was. Guess I forgot to bring it up."

"And look!" The Sultan hopped up to a raised platform in the middle of the chamber, where a great glass globe hung overhead. "This is a most strange device! I've spent most of the time you were gone trying to figure out what it could possibly be for!"

"Hmmm…" Genie flitted about the globe, making note also of a large hourglass positioned below it. "Looks like a storm generator to me!"

"Why would you need a storm indoors?" Nick asked.

"I know why I'd want one," Nora offered, "but I know Jafar didn't have my Semblance."

"It must have something to do with the hourglass," the Sultan deduced.

"Let me see." Cadance trotted up to the hourglass to have a look. "There's a spot on top of the hourglass for something to be set. See where the two snakes' mouths join? We have some devices like this back home, and this is where it would be powered by – "

Stork joined her in saying "A crystal!"

"LIKE THIS CRYSTAL?" Papyrus had been observing another table, and he held up a ring with a large stone set in it.

"Why, my blue diamond ring!" the Sultan gasped. "Jafar took that from me a long time ago, and I never did find out what he did with it!"

Cadance levitated the ring before her eyes. "It is the right shape and size to fit in the hourglass," she observed.

"Let's try it!" Aladdin suggested.

Cadance lowered the diamond into the opening atop the hourglass, and Sora, Riku, and Kairi approached. "Thunder on three!" Sora decided. "One…two…three!"

All three pointed their blades at the hourglass and yelled "THUNDER!"

As lightning struck the diamond, piercing into the hourglass, the sands began to swirl and shift. "I wonder what it means!" the Sultan stated with awe.

Genie put out both hands, which turned into radar antennae. "I'm picking up major scrying vibes from this one!" he announced.

"Scrying?" Ruby asked.

"Being able to see what is far away by requesting," Luna clarified.

"So if we ask questions," Vida reiterated, "that hourglass might be able to tell us the answer?"

"That's exactly the reading I'm getting!" Genie retracted the antennae.

"We can figure out where Mozenrath is going," Jasmine realized.

"Maybe we can figure out where the real Book of Prophecies is!" Sora added.

"We could find Even!" Jaune and Kairi said as one.

"Step right up!" Genie gestured to the hourglass. "One at a time, please! Step right up and ask your questions to the all-knowing hourglass!"

Jasmine was first. "Where is Mozenrath going?" she asked the glass.

A vision appeared in the swirling sands, one highlighted by bright colors. Six ovals of varying hue formed a circle. They cracked open at the same time, revealing themselves to be eggs. From each egg emerged a small dragon and a humanoid baby with glowing wings of energy sprouting from their head. The image then faded.

"Well?" Sora asked eagerly. "What'd you see?"

Jasmine shook her head. "I don't understand."

"Tell us!" Sora encouraged.

Jasmine described her vision. "Does that sound familiar to anyone?" she asked.

"Hmm…" Sora thought it over. After nobody volunteered anything, Sora suggested, "Merlin might know. He knows all kinds of magical symbols."

"Let's ask it another question," Jasmine offered, stepping down from the platform.

Kairi ran right up. "Where can we find Even?" she asked.

The sands showed her a view as though she were making her way down a tunnel lined with crystals. People the likes of which she had never seen before worked at extracting these crystals; their skin was gray and their limbs thick. They were obviously not human.

Kairi tried her best to describe those people once her vision faded, and once again, there was silence.

"So far, that's zero for two," Stork pointed out.

"The glass has been giving answers," Luna reminded him. "We just have not been able to see what they mean. Perhaps Merlin can clear that vision up for us as well."

"My turn!" Sora cried as he and Kairi traded places. "Where's the Book of Prophecies?" he asked the glass.

The sand suddenly fell to the bottom of the glass, seemingly dead.

"Ohhh, it didn't like that one," Genie observed. "Looks like the multiverse is set on keeping that one a secret."

"Huh," Sora remarked. "Well, we've gotta be able to find out somehow. Anyone else got any other questions?"

The others all racked their brains, sure they were forgetting something crucial to ask the hourglass that would haunt them once they left the room. "It's too bad we don't have one of these on Radiant Garden to ask questions whenever we got them," Chip muttered.

"Hey," Sadira realized, "what if you did?"

"How?" Chip asked. "Some really powerful magic must've gone into making this thing."

"Magic I know," Sadira insisted. "Or can look up. I'm a Witch of the Sand, remember? I bet I could make a glass of scrying sand we could use anytime! And we could make it even BIGGER so we could all look at it at once!"

"There's gotta be room in the castle for something like that," Yuffie said with a nod.

"You said 'we,'" Ren pointed out.

"Well, yeah," Sadira replied, hands on her hips. "I'm sick of not getting invited on these big adventures, so I'm inviting myself. I'm going back with you to build an hourglass."

"I'm going too," Aladdin added.

"So am I," Jasmine contributed. "After all…"

Both began the phrase "Someone has to take care of – "

Aladdin ended the sentence with "Maleficent."

Jasmine ended it with "Mozenrath."

They looked at each other in surprise.

"Where you go," Genie emphasized, "I go!"

Abu squeaked in agreement.

"Oh, and we're forgetting someone," Genie realized.

"Who'd we forget?" Sora asked.

A blur of blue fabric burst into the room, encircling Sora a few times before coming to rest on end. "Carpet!" Sora laughed, greeting the animate rug.

Carpet, despite having no face, returned an overall air of dissatisfaction.

"Sorry we didn't bring you to the Black Sands," Aladdin apologized. "But not all of us were going to fit on you, and you know it."

Carpet's posture put across a message of "Suuuuuure."

"The more, the merrier!" Sora cried.

"Now, about that hourglass," Sadira mused. "We're going to have to find some kind of crystal to power it. Like a blue diamond, but bigger."

"There's plenty to go around on Atmos," Stork offered.

"Those tunnels I saw in the hourglass were filled with crystals," Kairi added. "Maybe, once we find out where that is, we can pick something up there. We have to go there to find Even no matter what."

One of the royal guards scooted into the chamber. "Your Highness," he panted, "we have a slight…problem. There is an intruder trying to talk his way onto the palace grounds. He is resisting Razoul's authority and using incredibly foul language. We fear he may get violent."

"Foul language?" Yuffie repeated. "Oh, no. Has it been three Radiant Garden days ALREADY?"

"How do I know you are who you say you are?" Razoul growled, standing in front of the gates to the palace grounds.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Cid Highwind groaned. "I just came here to pick up the kids and bring 'em home. I didn't come here to get insulted and put through this shitshow of a wringer!"

"And I didn't claw my way to become head of this guard to be swayed by a foul-mouthed vagabond!"

"That's not a vagabond!" Yuffie yelled hurriedly as she rushed to the gate from the inside. "That's a friend!" She skidded to a halt, then glowered at Cid. "Did you REALLY have to make a big scene out of this?" The others fell into line behind her.

"I ain't the one makin' the scene!" Cid insisted. "That's all on this guy!"

"I am DOING MY JOB!" Razoul argued.

"It's okay," Sora said, stepping forward, hands out, palms up. "It's oooookay. Nobody needs to fight about it."

"Sora?" Cid's jaw dropped. "When'd you get here?"
"Riku and I dropped off everybody's new weapons," Sora explained. "Can we hitch a ride back to Radiant Garden with you?"

"Eh, I got room for a couple more," Cid said with a shrug.

"What about six more?" Jasmine asked, gesturing toward Aladdin, Abu, Carpet, Genie, and Sadira.

"Just tell me you're not invitin' this guy," Cid growled, jabbing a thumb at Razoul.

"I won't abandon my duty to protect Agrabah," Razoul grunted. "And neither should you, Princess." His gaze turned to Jasmine.

"I'm not abandoning my kingdom," Jasmine told him. "I'm protecting it from the outside. Any action taken against whatever Mozenrath is doing will be good for us." She folded her arms, staring sternly at Razoul.

Razoul knew there was no fighting with her when she had her mind set. "Very well," he relented. "But stay out of danger."

"We'll see about that," Jasmine replied coyly.

"All right," Cid announced. "All aboard who are goin' aboard. This ship's leavin' the station. Next stop: Radiant Garden."

...

Mozenrath, the Huntsman, Xayide, and Yzma had hiked until the sun went down, at which point they found themselves in the midst of a desert. Fitting, the Huntsman thought, though he realized the familiarity was completely lost upon the one person it should have spoken to.

Xayide set up dual tents – one for males, one for females – and put a small campfire between them to light up the night after the sun set. The four travelers gathered in a sitting position around the fire for a while to warm themselves; the desert was hot during the day, but the nights cooled it to almost freezing. For a while, no one spoke.

Then Mozenrath, curious as to why he was still wearing only one gauntlet, peeled it away and flinched with surprise at the sight of his stripped, bony right hand. "Why is my hand like this?" he asked, horror tinting his voice.

"It is a sacrifice you chose to make," the Huntsman answered.

"Every time you use that ridiculous glove," Yzma added, "it drains a little bit of you away."

"So I'm dying," Mozenrath realized. "I'm…killing myself by using magic."

"Essentially," Yzma said somberly.

There was a silence before Mozenrath stated, "If I understand you correctly about what I'm usually able to do when I know how to use magic…then for that kind of power, it's worth it." He sheathed his hand in the gauntlet once more, flicking it at the fire, hoping to make it grow. He flicked it again in hopes of dousing the flames entirely. Neither happened. "Still nothing," Mozenrath sighed.

Yzma, the Huntsman, and Xayide looked to one another nervously. Hearing Mozenrath say the cost of the gauntlet was worth its yields was a good sign insofar as it pertained to Mozenrath's sense of self being where it should have been. However, it was still a pledge on his behalf to keep destroying himself. At least he seemed unable to do that altogether now, but that brought on still more concern regarding what he had lost. Xayide was the only one with any idea of how to even begin teaching him to regain his power, but they had discussed the matter earlier, and she couldn't describe how she cast her own spells; they simply happened as she willed them. This was of no help to Mozenrath.

The four stared into the flickering flames a while longer, momentarily hypnotized. "Well," Yzma decided, "I'm tired out for the day." She rose, disappearing into her tent with a flourish.

"As am I," the Huntsman said, rising to enter the opposite tent.

That left Mozenrath and Xayide. "I really don't think this is fair," Mozenrath said lazily. "You don't have to kill yourself in order to use magic."

"I am fortunate, I suppose," Xayide replied. "As many are."

"Did I have a contingency plan in place for when I ran out of time?"

"I am the person here who would have the least knowledge of that," Xayide reminded him. "After all, you have only known me for a short while."

"I've only known about all of you since the City of Old Emperors. You're the one who's known me least."

"Quite true," Xayide admitted.

"What made you want to follow me anyway?"
"We explained this. You recruited me and gave me little choice."

"But you never fought back. You went right along with our plan. You sounded like you even enjoyed it."

Xayide smiled at the fire. "You had power. Power I respected. You had drive, and a dream. I felt it was similar to my own. I believed – we believed we could both get what we wanted by allying with each other."

"I'm guessing you regret that right about now."

"No," Xayide realized. "I don't."

"Good. Because I refuse to apologize."

"You aren't an apologetic person. It's something I admire about you."

"Sounds about right," Mozenrath said with a small nod.

Xayide rose. "I too am tired," she announced. "Douse the fire before you take your leave."

"How?"

Xayide handed Mozenrath a canteen she had acquired in one of the small pockets of civilization they had encountered on their journey. "There. Now you are equipped." She disappeared behind the curtain.

Mozenrath stared at the fire for a while longer, wondering if the next sunrise would mark when he would finally return to the place he supposedly called home: the place that, no matter what, would be alien to him. Everything was. There was nothing he could truly say was familiar.

But the Huntsman, Yzma, and Xayide were beginning to get close.

He tipped the canteen over the fire, extinguishing it. Then he entered the men's tent, lying down at the opposite end from the Huntsman.

The Huntsman lay still awake, unable to surrender to the darkness of slumber. Mozenrath must have been able to guess as much; his voice sounded from across the tent. "Huntsman."

"What do you want, Mozenrath?"
"You're awake. Good."

"I repeat: what do you want?"
"Tell me about you," Mozenrath demanded.

The Huntsman was caught off guard. "I beg your pardon?"

"You've already told me most of what I need to know about me. Now tell me about you. I need to know why I can trust you."

"You realize the more time we spend speaking, the less time we spend sleeping."

"If you have a problem with that, then go to sleep."

The Huntsman, after a pause, began, "I was born with a mark that decided my destiny." He related the story of his abduction and training by the Academy: the same story he had told Mozenrath not too long ago, before the Ivory Tower. Only now, unlike before, they were separated, lying apart in the dark.

...

The following morning, they came across the oasis.

It was practically a small forest, with tall trees in bloom with multicolored flowers. Smaller flowers sprang up from the moist sands below. The sounds of animals could be heard cavorting amongst the vegetation. Knowing there had to be a pool of water inside, Mozenrath, Xayide, the Huntsman, and Yzma entered in order to fill their canteens.

"Have I ever mentioned how much I hate the jungle?" Yzma groaned as she swatted at small insects.

"This isn't a jungle," the Huntsman informed her. "It is merely an oasis."

"Is there any environment you DON'T hate?" Mozenrath teased.

"The interior of a palace," Yzma answered.

"As soon as we get water, I'll drink it to that," Mozenrath replied.

When they came upon the small pool of clear water in the midst of the trees, the quartet stopped, for it was already occupied. Xayide gasped in shock and recognition.

Kneeling by the water was a young girl, one who did not look any older than ten years of age. Her white-gold hair hung down long past her shoulders, and she was clad in a snow-pale gown. She splashed the water upon her face to wash it before looking up at the four who had interrupted her; her eyes, bright gold, pierced all four of them.

"Hello," she said simply, smiling.

Xayide immediately dropped to one knee knowingly. Mozenrath, Yzma, and the Huntsman found themselves stunned by what followed. If asked, they would have said there was no one they would bow to, save perhaps each other. But, beholding this girl, they were struck with a sense that she was not, in fact, the tender age of ten, nor was she as human as she looked. She was something else entirely. Something old and strange and powerful. This compelled them all to follow suit with Xayide, going down on a knee each, wondering why on earth the sight of this girl prompted such a reaction.

"Your Highness," Xayide greeted. "Golden-Eyed Commander of Wishes."

That was when the others knew: this was the missing Empress. The Empress of the land where all stories were born: stories they, apparently, were parts of, acting as characters in a grander tale. Now they understood slightly better why they were showing her respect.

"This is a strange sight," the Empress, known more intimately as Moon Child, remarked. "Only one of you is Fantastican. The others are all from different Realms of Storytelling, but all of you are parts of stories. It seems that by coming together, you have made a completely new story. It is very odd indeed, but I am glad it has happened."

"There seems to be no escaping the fact that our meeting is odd," the Huntsman muttered.

"You are lost now," Moon Child realized. "Seeking your way in Fantastica. Seeking a way out of it. You won't find it by simply wandering. Fantastica is infinite: a land of no boundaries. You will find land after land within it, and more wonders than you can imagine – "

"Yes, yes, your world is full of magic and wonder and rainbows," Yzma snapped. "Now HOW DO WE LEAVE IT?"

She then realized who she'd just snapped at, and she cast her eyes to the ground sheephisly.

"I cannot offer you an exit," Moon Child stated.

"But…Your Highness," Xayide protested, "you are all-knowing and all-powerful. Surely you could…"

Moon Child shook her head. "I cannot. But I believe I know the first step toward the exit you seek, and I am more than willing to help you. Before you can go home, you must complete the story that needs to be told of your time here."

"I've already apparently tried to take over the entire world," Mozenrath told her, "failed, and lost my memory. What else could I possibly have to do here to finish our story? Please tell me it involves me getting my memory back. Or at least my magic."

"That may very well be a tale for another Realm to tell," Moon Child informed him. "However, there is one other tale to be told here. You, Mozenrath, seek the components of a spell that you believe will bring you ultimate conquest. You have already gathered several of these components. One you still lack is a concentration of Entropy.

"Far away, and yet closer than you think, is another desert: Goab, the Desert of Colors. At least, it is so by day. By night, it is Perilin, the Night Forest. This desert was formed by Bastian Balthazar Bux himself when he rebuilt Fantastica from a single grain of sand. Prior to that, the Nothing had swallowed the entire world, leaving nothing but that one grain. Buried somewhere in Goab is that single grain of sand. It, unlike the sand that surrounds it, is colorless. Because it has survived this world ending and being reborn, it contains an immense amount of entropy, all within a tiny grain. Collect it, and you will have what you need to fulfill that part of your spell. And then, once it is in your possession, you just may find the way back to your home…or it may find you.

"But be warned. Goab only exists because of Grograman, the Many-Colored Death. None can stand in the desert so long as he is there, or they will perish from his mere presence. But the desert does not exist without Grograman, so there is no way to approach Goab without encountering the death Grograman brings. Bastian was protected by my intervention, but I cannot do the same for you. You must find your own solution to survive that which cannot be survived."

"Are there phoenixes in this world?" the Huntsman asked suddenly.

"Yes," Moon Child replied. "Quite many."

"Then I have found the solution," the Huntsman stated cryptically.

"Wait," Mozenrath broke in. "Why are you so willing to help us? We aren't exactly the good guys from your perspective."

"From my perspective, bad is as important as good," Moon Child replied. "Villains are as necessary to a story as heroes are. You, Xayide, should know that more than anyone. It is the reason for your very existence."

"I am aware now," Xayide replied.

"You have a story that needs to be told and finished," Moon Child concluded, "and that is what I wish to help you accomplish. Whether it is a tale of good or evil matters not to me. I do look forward to perhaps hearing one day of the entirety of your strange tale and how it spanned the Realms."

"Well, I may not be sure exactly what it was I was planning on doing," Mozenrath told her, "but I plan on everyone knowing about it once I pull it off."

"If I may ask another question," Xayide interrupted, "why are you here, and when do you plan on returning to the Ivory Tower?"

"I am here because there is still a story to be told about Fantastica in my absence," Moon Child stated. "I shall return when it is my time to return. That is not yet. But it will be soon."

"What kind of story are you talking about?" Yzma asked.

"Another sort," Moon Child replied, "that shall be told another time." She rose. "I must continue on my way, and you must continue on yours. Proceed in any direction and you shall find Goab after some time."

"And where are YOU going?" Yzma asked.

Moon Child breezed past her. "Another time," she repeated. "Another time."

Then she was gone, though in her absence, the oasis still felt strange and sacred.