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.

51. Dancing Waters

51. Dancing Waters

Powered by waterbenders, the ferry departing the Earth Kingdom coast moved at a fast clip toward the North Pole. While time was still in short supply, it seemed Mozenrath was holding on; he had moved to a standing position to look off the side of the boat, keeping one arm over Aghoul to steady himself.

And since the ferry's launch, Ravess had not put down Mozenrath's scroll even once, determined to win her argument.

"You realize avoiding falling into that man's trap was the easiest thing in the world!" she barked into the phone. "Yes, I understand you were outvoted! That doesn't mean you had to go ALONG with them!...Yes, you absolutely could have!...NO, YOU ABSOLUTELY DID NOT HAVE TO!..."

"Ravess," Ragdoll attempted to interrupt, "you do realize you are going to burn right through Mozenrath's data plan."

Ravess held the scroll away for a moment to snap, "It's connected to our tower by magic! There IS no data plan!" She put the phone back to her ear. "No, that was just Ragdoll, trying to convince me I was using up Mozenrath's data plan…That's what I just TOLD him!...Yes, I know what a data plan is!...Because Ragdoll and Firefly explained it to me, that's why! Also, I'm not an idiot!..."

Ragdoll sighed as he stalked toward Aghoul and Mozenrath, taking his place beside them on the railing. "Can't say I didn't try," he remarked.

"Stop giving me reasons to appreciate you," Mozenrath groaned.

"I can't help it," Ragdoll retorted. "I'm naturally lovable."

"You realize there is a chance you might not survive this ordeal," Aghoul pointed out.

"I know," Mozenrath said calmly.

"Well?" Aghoul asked. "Is this how you wanted it to happen?"

"No," Mozenrath grumbled. "Dying slowly was never the plan."

"Describe your dream death," Aghoul demanded.

"Ayam," Ragdoll broke in, "are you sure this is appropriate conversation for the moment?"

"When is talking about your dream death ever inappropriate conversation?" was Aghoul's answer.

"It's fine," Mozenrath sighed. "I just thought I'd go out in a blaze of glory. Being worn down by the gauntlet as I claimed my final victory over a persistent foe. Maybe having a nice one-liner as my final words. If that Eliacube had actually finished the job, I'd be just fine with all of this."

"Well, if these Spirit Waters don't pan out, we could always drop you off at Aladdin's door so you could die fighting him," Aghoul mused. "Or would that Keybearer boy be more appropriate now?"

"It would hardly be worth it," Mozenrath said flatly. "They'd see me in this condition and know I was on my last legs while fighting them. They might even hold back because of it. That's the kind of annoyingly saintly they are. No, if I'm going to have a last hurrah, I'm going to at least give off the impression that I might have the upper hand."

"At least this way, you'll die surrounded by friends," Ragdoll pointed out. "A poor substitute, I know. Especially if we never meet up with the other party."

"I hate that you're still smiling," Mozenrath grunted.

"I'm just rather amused by the thought that I might be one of the witnesses to your last words," Ragdoll told him. "I know how much you hate that." He turned to look out at where water and sky met, and Mozenrath completely missed the slight falter of his grin.

"I hate to admit that he has a point," Mozenrath said dejectedly. "Both because he said it and because I actually care about whether or not I die with friends around me."

"Being dead won't be so bad," Aghoul tried to assure him.

"I still have a target painted on my back by Hades," Mozenrath reminded Aghoul. "So, yes. It will be. But that was kind of to be expected. I never really wanted to live the kind of life that didn't end in me being in a world of trouble upon my death."

"That's the spirit!" Aghoul encouraged.

"I do admire that moxie," Ragdoll added. "Though this is all a moot point. We're going to reach those waters in time, and you're going to live to be aggravated by peers and foes alike for many years to come."

"That would be ideal," Mozenrath said wistfully.

He, Aghoul, and Ragdoll could find no more to say, instead simply taking in the view of the horizon as Ravess continued to snap at Vexen: "At the VERY least, you found a way to break out of it…You what?...No, you're going to tell me what you mean right now…WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THE KEYBEARER'S FRIEND PUT YOUR SOULS BACK IN YOUR BODIES?..."

...

As Ozai settled back on his throne, he felt a sense that everything was suddenly right again, and he had come home. Which is exactly what he had done, he realized. He was exactly where he should have been as his heart saw things.

"Comfortable?" Facilier asked as he watched Ozai. It was obvious to Ozai that Facilier was undergoing the opposite reaction as the Phoenix King himself; the Shadow Man wanted to get out of town as quickly as possible. And Ozai knew why.

"You still cannot stand that your captives got away alive," he said coolly.

"I had two goals in mind when I came here," Facilier told him. "One was to put you in that chair, and that's good and done. The other was to make sure their scrawny sorcerer friend took his last breath on my watch. And I ain't goin' back without a perfect score."

"Then leave," Ozai told him. "I do not need your supervision."

So Ozai was going to send Facilier packing without even a thank-you, Facilier thought. What else had he expected, really? "Remember," Facilier said sternly, "you ain't got no bendin' to save the day."

"I am aware."

"If you're gonna hold this throne, ya gotta use the Darkness," Facilier told him. "Soon as the sun's all the way up, the Heartless are gonna be scarcer, but they'll be around. Use 'em. Just remember you got a limit. You'll feel when things start gettin' too deep. You gotta be sure to back outta the water when you notice you're drownin'."

"Do not lecture me as though I am a child," Ozai growled.

"As I said, I ain't goin' back without a perfect score," Facilier reminded him. "Mess this up, and I'm completely empty-handed. Neither you nor I want what's comin' to us if that happens."

"You come from territories unknown and think to tell me how to govern my own homeland?" Ozai growled. "No matter how powerful your employer is, she and those in her sway cannot play on my field the way I can."

"Which is why we went to all the trouble of gettin' ya back!" Facilier insisted. "But as much as I don't know about the Fire Nation, you don't know about gettin' the bad end of a deal struck with the Darkness! Nothin' comes free! There's always a price!" He stiffened his stance. "Well, ain't no use arguin'. Ain't got time. Just got enough to show you how to do what you need to do to call up the Heartless. Then it's off to the North Pole for me. Hope ya don't mind I'm takin' your admiral."

"I do not need his protection either," Ozai insisted. "The victory he claims with you against these sorcerers shall be in my name by proxy. You and I will have defeated them together."

And I bet you wish you didn't have to share that honor with me at all, Facilier thought.

Zhao burst through the doors of the inner chamber. "Your Majesty!" he announced. "There is someone here to see you. I think you're going to want to speak to her."

"Show her in," Ozai commanded.

Zhao stepped aside, and the girl strode confidently forth, standing tall to look her father in the eye before dropping to a knee and pressing a closed fist to her heart.

"Father," Azula said reverently. "I am pleased to see you have returned, and pledge myself to your service."

Ozai was, at first, amused. Azula, in the end, had been a failure, as much as Zuko was, where Ozai was concerned. She had utterly ceased to matter to him. But he recalled her past loyalty, and at the very least, he thought, he could get some use out of her as a warrior. He would let her think she had a chance to claim the birthright she had soiled so she would remain at his side. And she would fight for him, the way she always had. Perhaps this time, she wouldn't lose to a mere waterbender.

"Welcome home, Azula," Ozai said with a smirk.

...

Roman was jolted awake by the sound of a shrill chirp. His scroll had received a text. Bleary-eyed, he reached over to lift the device from the night table. First of all, he noticed that the time, as it had been set for the local region, was two in the afternoon. Second, the message displayed across the screen was from Neo: "Having brunch in the Smisse bros room. Come join us if you're awake. Or we can eat without you and then bang on your wall until you get out of bed 3"

Within a few minutes, the door of the Smisses' room received a sharp but polite knock. Neo skipped toward the door to open it, letting Roman and Snatcher, now dressed and mostly awake, inside. The Smisses were seated on their bed while Scarlet and Herb had found mostly comfortable positions to sit on the floor; dishes laden with ribs smothered in barbecue sauce and fried chicken legs were spread out all over the room. Neo gestured to where a share of the meat set aside for the two late arrivals was situated on the dresser, then sat down on the floor at her own place.

"Check it out," Herb said with a giggle. "As if we weren't villainous enough, we decided not to bother with napkins, since we figure this is the last night we're spending in this place anyway. So go ahead and get barbecue sauce on everything. They are going to HATE cleaning this up."

And true to Herb's word, the bedcovers and the carpet surrounding the diners were simply smothered in burgundy-brown sauce. Roman carefully removed both his gloves and stuffed them into a jacket pocket. Snatcher ducked back into their room for only a moment, bringing out the blanket from the bed to throw over his gown and shield it from the mess.

"And the best part is I asked," Scarlet announced, "and none of the food here has any – "

Neo, Rémington, Grany, and Roman all fired her panicked looks.

" – Vinegar," she said quickly, remembering what she'd been told last night about Snatcher's allergy and the ramifications of bringing it up to his face. "I really, really hate vinegar. And with barbecue sauce, it's a fifty-fifty shot of if you're going to get vinegar in it."

The others let out a collective sigh.

"Well, might as well not let good food go to waste," Roman said as he took ahold of the plate reserved for him; Snatcher followed suit, and the pair knelt on the floor with the others, digging in to the unconventional breakfast.

"Now," Snatcher said in Frou Frou's accent –

Which, of course, invited Rémington to throw in that "There is literally no reason for you to stay in character right now."

Rémington went ignored. "Monsieur Overkill," Snatcher said, "you had mentioned this being our last night in this establishment?"

"Well, yeah," Herb told him. "We already got the crown jewels."

"Then I suppose you wish to enter our home base and become acquainted with the rest of the WHAM ARMY," Snatcher mused.

"Actually," Grany said around a mouthful of ribs, "Scarlet and Herb have plans for one more heist on this world!"

"I thought we could celebrate our alliance by stealing something together," Scarlet clarified. "Well, actually stealing something together on purpose instead of trying to one-up each other and accidentally helping each other get to the prize."

"What did you have in mind?" Snatcher asked, simultaneously unenthusiastic and curious.

"Well, remember how I said we heard rumors of actual magic on this world?" Scarlet recalled. "It's probably not true, but then again, you never know. Back when Lisa was setting up to completely backstab me, she told me about something she turned up on one of her photojournalism assignments. Apparently, there's an old manor in England with a very interesting history. Legends about curses, a family with a scandal in their past…and, most importantly, a rumor that the mansion contains a magical artifact that this family has worshipped for decades."

"So we're gonna find that artifact and steal it," Herb chuckled.

Neo punctuated this with a sly and toothy grin.

"Sounds up our alley," Roman stated. He gently nudged Snatcher with an elbow; "What do you think?"

As Snatcher's gaze met Roman's, he knew Roman was asking his opinion on more than just the robbery and its mysterious prize. Knowing he was in full possession of the power to veto the heist, he considered making use of that option. He also considered rescinding the offer of WHAM ARMY kinship to the Overkills in general. It would certainly rid him of the anger that had plagued him the night before and still remained in shadowy form in the far and crooked regions of his mind.

Yet he held back. His discussion with Roman the night prior had done wonders to expel the bulk of the aggravation, though it had left a residue. Ever the diplomat, he was aware that he was the only one in the room who had any problem with the Overkills, and to voice his disapproval would earn him the slightest bit of resentment from Neo, Rémington, and Grany. There was also part of him, a part he barely wished to acknowledge, that had held onto the memory of Scarlet connecting with him over their parallel life experiences, and suggested to him that perhaps Herb reminding him of someone he used to like could be a benefit in the form of having a version of that person in his employ, sharing his morals. Without any romantic tension, of course. In the morning light, Snatcher could see just how undesirable Herb was after all, at least in his vision.

"I do believe that is a capital idea, Madame Overkill," Snatcher stated.

"Really?" Roman was a little taken aback. He shrugged it off; "Okay then! Road trip time!"

"Our jet will be a little cramped," Scarlet admitted, "but everyone should fit if a couple of you don't mind standing – "

"Oh, Strawberry Punch," Roman sighed.

"Strawberry Punch?" Scarlet repeated. "Why am I 'Strawberry Punch'?"

"Because you wear red and you punch things! First Sour Apples, and now you? Do I have to keep EXPLAINING the nicknames?"

"Sour Apples…" Scarlet repeated. "Oh! Because GRANNY SMITH!"

"SOMEONE GETS IT!" Roman cried in relief. "Anyway, Strawberry Punch, if we're going to do this, we're going to ride in style. We're taking the WHAM ARMY ship. Seating room for everyone over there."

"All right!" Herb said with a grin. "Let's sneak out without paying for our room service and go!"

"Who said we're not paying for room service?" Roman replied playfully, fanning out several of the credit cards he'd looted from the locker room. "I say we let the fine tenants of this hotel pick up the bill for us."

...

No one in the restoration party on Terra Atmosia wanted anything to do with anyone not within their inner circle. The obvious exceptions were Kairi, Riku, and Luna, but no one would speak to any of them on the matter.

Dilan had gone back to reading, leaning up against another wall. Not too far away, Chip, Vida, Madison, and Nick hoisted another wall into place, hauling ropes on a pulley system to set it in position.

Sadira's path took her between these two parties. Looking at the Mystic Rangers, she felt a surge of ill will. How dare they bad-mouth her and her closest friends? It was enough to make her actually want to be a little evil to them. If they wanted her to be the villain so badly, she would make their day.

Sand was not the same as dirt, but there was just enough of the same makeup in their compound that Sadira could work slight magic with the earth below the Mystic Rangers' feet. She flicked her wrist toward them, causing the topsoil to shift in the slightest.

Nick, Madison, Vida, and Chip all stumbled, either leaning back or falling to knees. Madison lost her grip on her rope altogether, and the wall leaned dangerously over them.

Sadira figured they would be fine. She hadn't meant to hurt them, merely to inconvenience them. They would be on their feet soon enough.

It was a good thing the quartet hadn't seen her, though, for if they'd known of her sabotage, they would have accused her of outright attempted murder. As Madison fumbled to get her rope back, Nick lost his grip on his. The wall swung perilously. Spying the lone reader, Vida cried, "DILAN, HELP!"

The last thing Dilan wanted to do was help. But he knew fingers would be pointed at him if he didn't, so he set his book down on a nearby crate before charging toward the wall, seizing Nick's rope and hauling the wall back up into position.

Sadira, at the perfect vantage point, watched the book become unattended. "Now let's see what you've been reading about," she muttered as she picked it up. Dilan had set it down open to the last page he had been poring over. Sadira glanced at the book, finding indeed a wealth of spells. Certainly there was something in here she could stand to learn.

But as she glanced over the page, realization bubbled to the surface of her mind. It took a definite shape just before she could turn to the next page to find something sand-related. As Sadira figured out exactly what she was reading, her eyes widened.

She clutched the book and ran, not even stopping to think that it would be missed by its reader.

...

The Western Air Temple was an architectural marvel: towers and courtyards of stone built into the side of a cliff, open to the air. Here, Aang, Zuko, Katara, Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Stork, and Jasmine were able to find some respite while they talked over their next move.

"We need to figure out what to do next," Aang said somberly.

"It…isn't obvious what we need to do next?" Stork replied.

"Yeah!" Sora agreed. "There's only one thing we can do!"

At the exact same time that Stork said "We leave," Sora insisted, "We go back and fight!"

They flinched, looking to each other.

"Uhhhhm…do you not remember how you barely got out of that city alive?" Stork told Sora.

"We can't just leave the city to burn!" Ruby broke in.

"I know that's not what anyone wants to do," Stork sighed. "This isn't how I imagined things going either."

"You're just saying that because you're scared!" Sora accused.

"SORA!" Papyrus scolded.

"Yes!" Stork growled. "I am scared! Scared of dying, scared of YOU dying, and scared that we'll make things worse! I'm scared that if we go back there, we will be able to do NOTHING but get killed! I already lost one team. I'm not losing another if there's anything I can do about it."

"But we can't just run away!" Katara argued. "Now more than ever, the people Ozai is attacking need the Avatar!"

"But how are we supposed to fight all those Heartless?" Aang asked. "We couldn't do it. That guy who was with Ozai just kept making more. I want to help, but…I'm scared too."

"If we don't do something now," Katara insisted, "Ozai will take this out of the capital! He'll burn down the rest of the Fire Nation and move on to the Earth Kingdom!"

"You're right," Zuko told her, "but without a plan, what can we do?"

"THEN THE SOLUTION IS TO THINK OF A PLAN!" Papyrus emphasized.

"Where do we even start?" Zuko asked.

"WHAT DO WE KNOW ABOUT THE HEARTLESS?" Papyrus asked. "MAYBE WE CAN PINPOINT A WEAKNESS – "

"This is a waste of time," Stork interrupted. "We just have to cut our losses and leave."

"What if we came back with the rest of the Committee?" Jasmine suggested.

"We could go find Sokka and Suki!" Aang added. "Toph could help us!"

"We might just be putting them in the same danger we're in," Zuko said somberly. "As long as we don't know how our mysterious enemy is bringing in all these Heartless, we can't win."

"And what if there isn't time?" Ruby insisted. "What if Ozai strikes again while we're gone?"

"There's no 'what if,'" Katara added. "That's exactly what he'll do."

"I dunno," Sora mused. "I already thought I knew everything about beating Heartless, and this guy still has me stumped. Maybe we should leave and come back when we have a better plan."
"Are you SERIOUS?" Katara growled.

"None of us really knows what we can do," Aang moped.

Sora looked to Aang with a sense of finality. "It was really nice meeting you."

"You too," Aang replied. "We're still gonna be friends after all this, right?"

"Of course we are!" Sora promised.

Katara looked around in desperation, hoping someone could stop Sora from leaving. Then her eyes locked onto Ruby's silver ones.

And Ruby collapsed, falling first onto her knees and then splaying out on her back.

"RUBY!" everyone cried.

"Uuuuuggghhhh…" Ruby groaned. "I'm all dizzy…" She coughed a few times. "I think it was from breathing that plant Heartless' poison…"

"Ohhh, this is bad," Stork worried. "This is very, VERY bad."

"We have to get her back to Radiant Garden," Jasmine insisted. "Merlin and Aerith will know how to – "

"NO!" Ruby cried, shuffling back to lean against a pillar. "I don't need to go see any of them! And I don't think anybody should move me, either! I think this is the kind of sick where I just have to lay down and stay in exactly one spot for a really long time!"

Stork's worry gave way to suspicion. "Uh-huuuuuuuuh."

"Just let me rest here, okay?" Ruby asked, unfastening her cape and folding it into a makeshift pillow. "I'll feel better later. I promise."

"If you don't," Jasmine told her, suspicion beginning to rise within her mind as well, "we're going to take you back to Radiant Garden no matter what."

"I got it," Ruby said as she positioned the cape-pillow between herself and the pillar, giving a few more weak coughs.

"FEEL BETTER SOON!" Papyrus told her, before adding that he was giving her an "AUDIBLE WINK!"

"Well," Katara said, "since we're stuck here for a while, we might as well keep thinking. What DO we know about the Heartless that we could use against them?"

"Maybe there was some significance to the solstice," Aang theorized.

"The longest night of the year," Katara muttered.

"A long night?" Sora repeated. "That probably had something to do with it. The Heartless are made of Darkness, so having a long, dark night might have fueled them and made them stronger."

"Maybe they'll be weaker when the sun is up," Zuko suggested.

That seemed a good starting point for a plan, but after that, no one could seem to work out a second step. Hours passed, and as dawn filtered into the temple, the team was no closer to figuring out how to reclaim the Fire Nation capital than they had been immediately after the invasion. Ruby's condition grew no worse, but still no better; anytime anyone looked at her, she was set into a fit of coughing.

"WHATEVER HAPPENED TO MOZENRATH, ANYWAY?" Papyrus wondered out loud.

"We set his friends free," Aang reminded him. "They probably came here to do something else besides take over the Fire Nation."

"I wonder what that was," Sora pondered. "We think we figured out their pattern. They're probably here to take something magical. Though the one guy with the skull helmet seems to have this thing against dragons. Maybe they're here to fight one of those."

"I really doubt there are dragons on this world," Stork commented.

"There are," Zuko revealed. "Only two. The ancient masters of firebending. Most of the dragons on this world were wiped out by hunters who wanted the glory of killing them, but Aang and I learned important firebending techniques from the last ones living. They're hidden by the Sun Warriors."

"What if that is what Mozenrath is after?" Jasmine wondered out loud. "Or at least one of the things he's after."

"Maybe…we should go to the Sun Warriors instead of focusing on the Fire Nation Capital," Sora mused. "Maybe we can beat Mozenrath there! That would solve at least one of our problems."

"We still wouldn't have that problem if Aang hadn't set Mozenrath's friends free," Stork reminded everyone.

"But it wasn't right," Aang insisted. "They're people too. If they end up captured, it should be humanely. Not made to do someone else's dirty work with a threat hanging over them."

"I'm going to trust you on this one," Stork sighed.

"I think Sora might have the right idea," Jasmine said. "If Mozenrath is after the dragons, we need to stop him."

"And if he isn't after the dragons?" Zuko posed.

"Then we have no idea where he'll be," Sora groaned.

Besides, he thought, at least by going to the Sun Warriors, they would be doing something to help someone. They would overcome their powerlessness, at least in a small way.

"THEN WE SHALL BE OFF!" Papyrus announced. "TO THE SUN WARRIORS!"

Aang nodded. "To the Sun Warriors."

"That's really your plan?" a female voice echoed through the courtyard where the team was gathered. "I honestly expected more from you. You're starting to slip, Avatar."

All turned to view the newcomer and cry her name: "AZULA!"

"In the flesh," Azula said with a smirk. "You've also really got to come up with better hiding places. I knew you'd be here. If I wanted, I could have you flushed out of here in a heartbeat."

"What do you WANT, Azula?" Zuko barked.

"I have some information that might interest you," Azula said slyly. "That is, if you're still interested in saving the Fire Nation Capital."

"And why would YOU give that to US?" Katara asked, venom in her voice.

"Can't I do something out of the goodness of my heart?" Azula asked. "As of this moment, I'm playing both sides. Father believes I have returned to act as part of his military, and that I'm willing to let bygones be bygones. And, as he has accepted me with as open of arms as he's capable of providing, I've learned some important things. Like the fact that his Heartless-controlling friend has taken Admiral Zhao on some mission to the North Pole, leaving my father all alone on his throne. He has learned to control the Heartless to a degree…but he's also been warned not to overdo it. I think we all know how well that's going to end."

"Wait," Sora repeated. "The guy who brought all the Heartless…he's gone? Are there still Heartless in the city at all?"

"Yes," Azula told him. "There are. But who knows if they'll stick around without anyone to control them? If you go back into the city now, taking the back roads, you should be able to take my father by surprise. Zuzu would know how to get into the palace undetected."

"This is some kind of trap, isn't it?" Stork accused.

"Now, why would I lead you into a trap?" Azula asked coyly; her tone became sharp and serious on her next declaration. "If you die, then I won't get what I want."

"What DO you want?" Zuko asked her. "Why are you doing all this?"
"BECAUSE I WANT FATHER TO DIE!" Azula screamed.

The others flinched, not expecting this reaction.

"I had enough time to think about it during my confinement," Azula growled, "and I needed to know who I could blame for my downfall. Who needed to pay. Was it you, Zuzu, for humiliating me in the Agni Kai? Was it you, waterbender, for chaining me down? I could make a case against either of you…but the truth is, I could have BEATEN both of you if not for Father. He was the one who denied me a place by his side! He was the one who clipped my wings! Had he seen what I was truly worth, I wouldn't have been confined at all! And Mother agrees with me."

"Mother?" Zuko repeated.

"She speaks to me every day now," Azula continued. "I'm well aware I'm not supposed to be hearing her, especially since I'm the only one who can. That was the first thing I learned when I was figuring out how to play the hospital's game. When they asked me if she spoke to me, I said no, even as she was leaning over my shoulder to whisper in my ear. I learned every trick, every little giveaway that would make them label me 'insane' and how to hide it all away. I learned to pass for normal in hopes that they would release me. They simply traded one prison for another, and I have to admit, I almost broke down. But I knew if I kept playing the game, I could find my way out. That was when the man with the Heartless came to free Father, and I knew I had a bargaining chip. To think Father knew I was listening the whole time, but he thought of me as too unimportant to consider a threat! All the more reason he is to blame for everything that happened to me! I would do the deed myself, but I know he is prepared for a fight against one. That's why I need you to do it for me. And before you ask, no, I'm not going to join you. Because should you fail and die, I need to be able to fall back on acting the double agent once more until I can find someone else to hire to do the dirty deed."

"We're not killing Ozai," Aang said coldly. "Even his life is precious. I'll lock him up, but I won't kill him."

"You realize what he'll do if you let him live!" Azula argued. "He burned his own people to take power. Nothing is stopping him from extending his reach to the rest of the world! You left him alive once, and you can see how well that turned out."

"WELL," Papyrus argued, "WHAT IF WE HAD TAKEN THE SAME ATTITUDE TOWARD YOU? WHAT IF AANG HAD KILLED YOU INSTEAD OF GIVING YOU A SECOND CHANCE? THEN WHERE WOULD YOU BE?"

"That's DIFFERENT." Azula bristled. "Deep down, we all want the same thing. We want him gone. I just want it done more permanently than you're willing to do."

"It wouldn't even be permanent," Jasmine argued. "Zhao was dead, and now he's alive again. If it makes no difference, he may as well live."

"If it makes no difference," Azula roared, "he may as well DIE!"

"You know," Stork sighed, "I used to think that was the only acceptable form of payback. And I still think there are some people who just need to be gotten rid of. But after hearing from so many angles that this isn't the right way to go…it's not the way I'm going. We'll take Ozai down our OWN way, thank you very much."

"We appreciate the help," Aang told Azula. "And I wish there was more we could do for you."

Azula bit her lip, imagining all the things she could do: scream, cry, incinerate. Her cold façade overtook her once more. "Well. I suppose I can't un-tell you that information. You'll just have to make your choice when the time comes."

Stork turned back to the others. "You really think we can trust this?"

"I think we all still want to save the city," Sora told him. "If we have a shot…we should take it."

"But what about Ruby?" Aang asked. "She's still sick – "

Ruby immediately leapt to her feet. "IT'S A MIRACLE!" she cried. "I'M CURED!"

"WHAT AN UNEXPECTED SURPRISE!" Papyrus chimed in, sounding utterly unconvincing.

"I KNEW you were faking!" Stork growled.

Ruby shuffled a foot on the ground. "I just wanted to buy us some time," she admitted. "I thought if we all just took some time to hang out around the temple, we'd come up with a good plan. But everyone was getting ready to leave, so I did something. I just remembered Katara's Painted Lady story and how she made it look like Appa was sick."

"I had a feeling that's what you were doing," Katara admitted.

"I don't think anyone here really thought you were that sick," Jasmine told Ruby. "But the fact that we all took that excuse to stay here says something. None of us want to give up on the city."

"BECAUSE WE ARE NOT QUITTERS!" Papyrus insisted.

"What do you think, Zuko?" Sora asked. "Think you can get us back in that palace for one more fight?"

"I know I can," Zuko said with a nod.

Sora then turned to Azula. "Last chance," he told her. "Do you wanna come fight with us, or not?"

"Like I said," Azula reminded him, "if you fail, which you certainly will if you don't intend to kill my father, then I need a cover."

"He might figure out someone tipped us off," Zuko told her.

"It's you," Azula told him. "He'll figure you were just stupid enough to run headlong into danger, as usual."

"Then this fight's not over," Sora announced.

...

Blackmoor Manor was an imposing building set out upon the moors of England, centuries old and giving the impression that it had long been a guardian over the surrounding lands. Its double doors were thick and locked with a sturdy mechanism, but for a certain clown prince of crime, this was absolutely no problem. The doors were jimmied open just wide enough for the spherical gas bomb to roll in. Then the door was quickly shut as the bomb settled in on the floor of the atrium.

There was a tiny "pop" sound as the small sphere exploded, spilling out a gas that spread throughout the entirety of the manor.

A few minutes later, Joker, Harley, and Scar crept into the atrium, gas masks with rebreathers strapped to their heads. "That was just the stuff that petrified 'em and made 'em smile, right?" Harley asked, her voice muffled by hers.

"Oh, but of course," Joker reassured her. "It's all in fun!"

He was lying, and Harley knew it. She made sure to tighten her mask a little more. Could she fault him? He was just having fun in his own way, she thought, and she was guilty of the same, of destroying moral standards in order to have fun. Murder of innocents wasn't the route she would have chosen, but she kept reminding herself that she and the Joker weren't the same person. It was still apples to apples as far as she was concerned.

"Now to get down to business," the Joker announced, withdrawing his supply of micro-cameras from his pockets. Harley and Scar removed theirs as well.

"As if it weren't demeaning enough that I'm working for a common thief," Scar sighed. "Must we really rely on letting our targets do the hard work for us? Are we not better than that?"

The Joker was already busy settling the cameras in strategic locations around the atrium. Harley took a moment to marvel at the architecture of the building around her; the floors were tiled with magnificent colors, the spacious atrium was propped up by six grand pillars with Latin mottos woven around them, the walls were adorned with the coats of arms of those who had inhabited the manor in generations past, and a sweeping stairway made a path to the upper level. She wanted to skip right up the stairs and begin placing her cameras, but first, she wished to tell Scar off.

The Joker was already busy explaining his rationale: "We could find the prize ourselves, then remove the opposing pieces from play. But wouldn't it just be that much more fun to let them think they've won, then snatch that victory right out from under them? The looks on their faces will be priceless! And I don't want the last looks they ever have on their faces to be anything short of priceless."

So was it all right to murder these people? Harley wondered. She wasn't all that gung-ho for it. But Roman Torchwick, at least, deserved it. He'd taken away the one she loved – though the space left by that love was filling up again, in a new shape that vaguely resembled the last. It only seemed fair that Harley should give Roman payback. There was nothing he could do that would make up for the crime she believed he committed: nothing short of spilling his blood, anyway. And if she couldn't make the final blow when the time came? She would bring him back to Maleficent, who would surely be proud of her for the capture.

"I wasn't meant for such lowly tasks," Scar grumbled. "I should be on the frontlines of a conquest. I was a king! And I will be king again! Not a mere thief."

"What is your PROBLEM?" Harley groaned. "This is fun! And thievin's our business! It's what we do! Well, among other crimes, but stealin's my favorite! Are you sayin' we're lowly 'cause of what we do?"

"That is exactly what I am saying," Scar droned. "No matter what, it seems I cannot get away from having absolute idiots for associates."

"HEY!" Harley snapped.

"Calling us idiots when we haven't even turned up all our cards?" Joker rebutted. "What little faith you have in us! You'll eat your words soon enough."

"When we've carried a simple stone out of this manor?" Scar retorted.

"When we've brought down the infamous Roman Torchwick," Joker reminded him. "Of course, he's only infamous among his own peers. The poor little thing thinks he can play in the big leagues. You'd think he would have realized he was in over his head the last time we met."

"That name is only meaningful to you," Scar growled. "I have no business with this Roman Torchwick!"

"You got business with Maleficent," Harley reminded him, "so ya got business with Roman Torchwick! What, you don't wanna do a favor for a friend?"

"You consider Maleficent a friend?" Scar countered.

"Well…she's gotta be," Harley insisted. "She helped bring me back up when I was down. She showed me where to go when I lost the person I loved. She ain't a good person, but I owe her a lot!"

Scar smiled beneath his mask. Harley was being played for a fool, he thought. Maleficent didn't call people like her "friend." She called them "goon." Even Scar knew better than to think he was more than a rung on a ladder; he admitted a platonic closeness to Ursula, but Maleficent was untouchable to him. She was, of course, the route he was taking to regain power, and he did resent how much more of it she had to hold than him at any given time, but that resentment was countered by hard logic: this was what he had to accept if he wanted the best route to his own throne. Harley had a hard lesson coming, and imagining how she would learn it amused Scar. Now, if only he didn't have to prove himself by associating with her and her cackling boyfriend on a thievery mission.

"It ain't like we couldn't be friends," Harley told Scar. "You'd just gotta start treatin' me and Mr. J with some respect!"

"My dear," Scar replied, "I would much rather try to outrun a horde of stampeding wildebeest."

Harley folded her arms with a "Hmph."

"Let's not forget what we came for," Joker said in a singsong tone.

As Scar planted micro-cameras throughout the lower level of the manor, Harley and Joker ascended the stairs to place them on the upper level. It was strange, Joker noted. The poison gas intended to clear out the manor's occupants didn't seem to be necessary at all, for there was no one about. The beds were empty. No one was found slumped over a chair in the library or face-down in a pool in the conservatory. A birdcage in the hallway suggested the presence of a family pet, but that creature seemed to be absent. Joker wondered why, exactly, this abode would have been completely empty, and with a bristling anger, came up with a theory that would make someone else very sorry were it true.

The trio met back up in the foyer. "The gas will dissipate by the time our little miscreants arrive," Joker announced. "They'll be able to walk in as though nothing happened. And we'll keep all of our hundred eyes on them all the while."
"To the ice cream truck!" Harley declared.

"The indignity only gets worse," Scar groaned.

The ice cream truck, parked on the far side of the street, was outfitted with monitors that displayed views from all hundred and more micro-cameras scattered throughout the manor. The choice of vehicle had been Harley's idea, and it made her rather nostalgic. Ice cream trucks used to be a symbol of her camaraderie with Ragdoll and Firefly. The sight of one made her a little wistful. She didn't admit to herself that she had chosen one not because its interior could be easily hollowed out for the monitors, but because it was the closest she could be to her old friends without actually forgiving them.

The monitors were switched on, and from their vantage point, Joker, Harley, and Scar watched and waited, with the hyenas playing about their feet and making Scar generally uncomfortable. There wasn't an inch of Blackmoor Manor they couldn't see, they thought.

They had underestimated their target gravely.

...

The Fire Nation throne was situated on a stagelike platform at the end of a cavernous room. The lights were kept low to emphasize the flames that rose up in a wall behind the throne, illuminating the one who sat upon it.

From this perch, Ozai had assembled a small army of Heartless, called with the Darkness he now wielded. He could feel a strain upon him somewhere inside as he summoned more of the creatures, but it was mild, and he resolved not to be held back by it. A troop of Heat Sabers, resembling slim, armored figures with red-hot blades in place of hands, stood ready at attention; spherical Fiery Globes hopped in between them while the small aerial Red Nocturnes hovered above.

"This was only the beginning," Ozai told them. "From now on, you obey the will of the Phoenix King, lord of this world. We have won our first great victory in our new age, but it is time to look outward. The rest of this nation must be subjected to recognize me as its true ruler, and after that, I shall finish what I began long ago. Sozin's Comet may have passed, but there will still be plenty of opportunity to set the Earth Kingdom on fire."

"THAT'S WHAT YOU THINK!"

Ozai's gaze traveled up above the army of fire-based Heartless to see Zuko storming into the throne room, glaring his father down. Behind him, Sora, Stork, Jasmine, Katara, Papyrus, Aang, and Ruby marched, anger prevalent in their eyes.

"I expected you to return," Ozai said with a grin. "Your tenacity is perhaps the only thing you inherited from me."

"Your Heartless master is gone," Zuko stated. "And so is Admiral Zhao. You're all alone."

"And we're gonna take you down and throw you back in your prison cell where you belong!" Sora cried.

"You're wrong," Ozai said calmly. "So long as I am tied to the Darkness, I am never alone. You see a fraction of my army before me."

The Heat Sabers, Red Nocturnes, and Fiery Globes all turned to face the intruding heroes in one fluid motion.

"Destroy them," Ozai commanded before another word could be said.

The Heat Sabers spun toward their targets; the Globes bounded and the Nocturnes zipped about, bodies ablaze. The troop of heroes was ready for them. Ruby cut through the Nocturnes with ease with Crescent Rose. Jasmine impaled Nocturne after Nocturne. Stork pinned back the limbs of each Heat Saber long enough for Katara to send her water, in the form of a spear of ice, right through it. Papyrus batted the Globes to Aang, who dizzied them up with cyclones of wind until Papyrus could impale them with sharp-edged bones. Zuko directed the flames of the Heartless army away from Sora long enough for the Keybearer to cut his way through without any fear of getting burned.

Ozai was at a disadvantage and he knew it. His challengers were making smoke and ash out of his guardians. He drew upon the Darkness further, summoning still more of the flaming Heartless. As he did so, a black aura tinted with purple and blue began to fester around his body.

More Heat Sabers charged at the would-be heroes. They were cut down almost immediately. Ozai grit his teeth, knowing he had to call in heavier artillery. Throwing his hands outward to the battlefield his throne chamber had become, he summoned a quartet of Volcanic Lords: bulbous Heartless with transparent exteriors that revealed the red heat within.

The Darkness crawled through his body, preying upon his recent summon of the creatures. He had called far too much of it into his soul, more than his body could handle. Only when it was too late did he realize his heart had been engulfed, and he was changing. His mind was dulling rapidly, distilling the scene before him into one clear threat that needed to be eliminated and nothing else that mattered. His arms spread out to either side, lengthening. His face narrowed and sharpened.

Sora cut down the first Volcanic Lord in time to witness Ozai's transformation; the attention of Katara, Stork, and Papyrus was also captured by it. Aang, Jasmine, Ruby, and Zuko kept fighting around them to keep them from being stabbed in the back while their focus was diverted.

They saw Ozai's body warp into that of an enormous bird, red armor clasped around its chest, wings of flaming red feathers spreading out to either side. Directly over the center of his abdomen, a symbol of a heart fractured by an X shimmered. His beak pried open, and he screeched, a wave of flame riding on his breath. He beat his wings once, twice, rising from the throne and sailing out over the battlefield.

"He's a Heartless!" Sora realized.

"WHAT DO WE DO NOW?" Papyrus asked.

"He's gone," Sora said. "It's not even him anymore."

"I think Azula is getting her wish," Katara said in awe.

While Jasmine, Aang, Zuko, and Ruby busied themselves cleaning up the last of Ozai's Heartless army, Sora led Stork, Katara, and Papyrus in a charge against the great Heartless, the Providence Phoenix. The Phoenix gave another cry, beating its wings and raining a shower of fire upon its attackers. Katara threw her water up into the air, spreading it out to absorb the falling fire like a shield, dousing the attack. Sora used that cover to leap and strike at the Phoenix, beating his Keyblade against the red armor.

Stork, covered by a shield of rotating bones courtesy of Papyrus, slipped around behind the Phoenix, leaping onto its back to pry away the armor. He was successful, and the hard red breastplate fell away.

Sora's blade struck against the Phoenix' flesh, causing the massive bird to scream again, swiping Sora aside with a wing. It landed on the ground, tilting its head upward and fanning out its wings to full length. From its mouth, a fountain of lightning erupted, bolts spreading out in all directions.

Aang and Zuko both caught the bolts headed for them, letting the electricity flow through their bodies before they redirected it at the Phoenix. However, Ruby's back was turned, Jasmine was too focused on spearing the final Volcanic Lord, and Stork knew well that Papyrus' attention had been on shielding him and not on protecting himself.

"RUBY!" Katara rushed toward the girl in red.

"JASMINE!" Sora charged toward the princess.

"PAPYRUS, NO!" Stork leapt in front of the skeleton.

Katara, Sora, and Stork were each struck by a bolt of lightning, collapsing and shuddering to the ground. Ruby, Jasmine, Aang, Zuko, and Papyrus could only view the scene with horror.

The Phoenix was barking now, almost seeming to be laughing.

"OH, NO…" Papyrus moaned, looking at his felled friends. Turning his gaze upward to the Phoenix, he announced, "WELL, NOW YOU'VE DONE IT! YOU'VE JUST EARNED ONE SPECIAL ATTACK! I HOPE YOU'RE READY!"

The Phoenix rose up from the ground again, beating its wings.

"THAT'S ALL THE WARNING YOU GET!" Papyrus insisted. "NOW YOU HAVE TO DEAL WITH MY SPECIAL ATTACK!"

This time, there was no dog around to ruin the execution of the attack. A pair of massive skulls, each shaped more like something that would come from a dragon than a human skeleton, flanked Papyrus. As Papyrus fueled them with magic, they opened their jaws, and twin beams of nearly blinding white energy shot forth, piercing into the Phoenix.

The Phoenix collapsed to the ground, stunned but not destroyed by this attack. One could almost see stars spinning around its head.

"KEEP IT DOWN!" Ruby cried as she raised Crescent Rose.

Aang swept a wide swath of wind over the Phoenix's wings, blowing out the flames and revealing ordinary crimson feathers. Zuko and Jasmine rushed to pin the wings down and prevent the Phoenix from rising. Ruby bolted, giving a scream as she swung her blade.

The Phoenix's head was neatly lopped off before the scythe planted into its back, cutting all the way down into its chest. It burst into one final bout of flame, forcing Zuko and Jasmine to hurry away; the fires consumed what was left of its body as Ozai's heart burst free from its captivity, rising up and passing through the palace ceiling.

"Katara!" Aang and Zuko hurried to their fallen friend's side. "KATARA!"

"SORA!" Jasmine and Ruby yelled as they ran to the Keybearer.

"STORK?" Papyrus knelt over the one who'd taken the blast for him. "ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?"

With a grunt, Stork twisted up into a sitting position. "I'm…fine. Shaken, but fine. I don't know HOW I survived that, but I'm not going to question it."

Katara was also prying herself up. "I'm okay," she reassured Zuko and Aang.

Aang quickly enveloped Katara in a tight embrace. "I was scared I lost you," he moaned.

Katara wrapped her own arms around him. "Sorry I scared you."

"Don't apologize! It was that Heartless that hurt you."

They backed up just enough to look into each other's eyes, then shared a quick kiss, thankful to still have each other. Zuko looked away quickly, flushing, not meaning to view their private moment.

Sora sat up and looked at where the Phoenix had burned. "Nice job, team!" he congratulated. "We got Ozai off the throne! Kinda wish that had gone a little differently, but…"

"We had to free his heart," Aang stated.

Sora shuffled to stand upright. "I wonder if that got rid of any of the Heartless in the city," he mused.

Jasmine gingerly approached Zuko. "Are you all right?"

"I'm just glad he's not hurting anyone anymore," Zuko sighed.

"Well…" Sora trailed off, looking to Aang for support. "That depends."

"Heartless only capture part of a person," Aang told Zuko. "Ozai's body and soul could have ended up somewhere completely else as a Nobody. It would basically be Ozai, but without a heart, so he couldn't feel anything."

"How is that different from my father with a heart?" Zuko questioned.

"He might not have been strong enough," Sora told him. "His Nobody might just be a Dusk or something not that powerful. But if he had enough power, his Nobody might have his face and his mind. Ozai could still be out there."

"And maybe more importantly," Jasmine reminded everyone, "so is Mozenrath."

...

It was the dead of night: the perfect time for a stealthy break-in.

Instead, Roman Torchwick opted to blow the doors of Blackmoor Manor off their hinges.

Snatcher strode in, heels clicking on the multicolored tiles, as Roman, Rémington, Grany, Neo, Scarlet, and Herb filed in behind him. "Find me the residents of this lovely abode," Snatcher commanded in Frou Frou's accent, "and make sure they will not present any problems."

The group fanned out only to find what Joker had discovered earlier: the occupants of Blackmoor Manor had all gone missing. Some noticed that the air tasted a bit sour, but as it was no longer deadly, none put two and two together.

"Sooooo…it looks like we're alone in the house?" Herb reported as the group thronged around Snatcher in the atrium.

"Curious," Snatcher muttered. "Peculiar indeed. No matter. We shall begin the work of finding this hidden treasure at once. I severely doubt that it is as hidden as its owners would like us to believe. Perhaps it is kept in a safe, but nothing of any higher security."

"Where should we start?" Scarlet asked.

"How about by having Rémy go fuck with something until it opens a secret door?" Roman suggested.

...

"That was NOT supposed to work AGAIN," Roman said as he stared, open-mouthed, at the panel in the wall that had slid aside when Rémington had, upon discovering that one of the gargoyles mounted in the upper hall was loose on its pedestal, tried turning it this way and that.

"What can I say?" Rémington replied with pride. "I have, shall we say, a magic touch."

"It's dark," Snatcher observed. "I wouldn't enter without a light to see by."

"I got this!" Herb and Roman said at the same time. Roman held up a cigarette lighter, its end aflame. Herb produced a flashlight from his jacket pocket. Neo pointed to the flashlight, whose beam was much more powerful than Roman's tiny flame.

The group wandered in, fenced in by narrow walls and moving in single file, with Snatcher and Scarlet in the lead. The passage ended at a wall with a stone eye carved in it and an inscription above. Scarlet raised the flashlight to read the etched words: "Only the blameless shall pass here…"

Her voice changed to muttering as she finished off the paragraph.

"What is it?" Rémington asked from the back of the group, trying to hop up to look over Grany's shoulder.

"Well," Scarlet said, "according to this, if we don't give the wall the name of someone innocent who was condemned for saving lives, we'll be cursed to become horrible beasts."

"How ominous," Snatcher remarked casually.

Scarlet turned her attention to the stone eye; a keypad was carved in its center, with a different Norse rune on each tile. "Does anyone here know Norse letters?" she asked. "We need to spell the word 'Elinor.'"

"Why 'Elinor'?" Snatcher asked.

"Because I've done my research on the family that owns this place," Scarlet told him, "and Elinor Penvellyn was tried for witchcraft. If anyone was wrongfully condemned, it was her."

"Good for you," Snatcher muttered. "You just know so much about everything, don't you?"

Apparently, his resentment hadn't fully faded. Scarlet gave him a surprised look that melted into a glare. "I do my research," she growled.

"So why's it Norse?" Herb asked.

"I have no idea," Scarlet replied. "I have nothing on the Penvellyns ever having a Scandinavian branch."

"So the way I see it, we have one of two options," Roman said. "We can either let Rémy loose on the panel and have him punch random buttons – "

"I'd be happy to," Rémington said.

"Or we could look around for something that actually translates those letters," Roman concluded.

"I vote we take the second route," Snatcher stated.

"I mean, a mansion this big, it's gotta have a library, right?" Scarlet suggested.

...

The manor did indeed have a library, but the answer was not found there. The group had split up to cover all bases, and while Herb and Rémington looked over the library's fare, Neo examined one of the unoccupied bedrooms, finding a textbook that laid out Norse runes and their phonetics for easy understanding.

It was back to the passage then, where Scarlet entered the word "Elinor" and watched the wall slide away.

"Told you," she said to Snatcher.

"There's no need to gloat," Snatcher growled. "I certainly could have figured that one out myself, had I wanted."

"Really?" Scarlet asked as they descended further into the hallway. "You would have known enough about the Penvellyn history to spell 'Elinor'?"

"Madame Overkill, let us drop the subject."

They came to the end of the hall, where more tiles on the wall awaited in the shape of triangles that could be pointed various directions. "Another puzzle?" Scarlet said out loud.

"No, Madame Overkill," Snatcher told her, gesturing to where the tiles met up with the corner of the wall, presumably continuing on the other side. "HALF of another puzzle."

...

"All right," Roman announced as he descended from a stairway, "I figured out that the weird sound effects the stairs made were the order you were supposed to pull the levers at the top of the tower, and now I have a key to…something. I'm starting to think whoever designed this place was a sadistic fuck."

"That key probably has nothing to do with getting the thing we're looking for," Grany told him. He was, of course, wrong.

Herb skidded in. "Okay, so, not to brag, but I totally just hacked into one of the downstairs computers."

"Maybe now we can start getting some answers," Roman sighed.

...

The computer initiated a sequence in which several tiny luminescent ghosts popped up from hiding places around the manor, allowing a set timeframe to touch them all in order to receive a clue toward the next step.

"I told you," Roman growled as he slapped one of the ghosts on the railing of the stairs. "Designed by a sadistic fuck!"

...

"Okay, this is getting nuts," Roman sighed as he found himself, Snatcher, and Rémington adjusting the claws of a dragon-shaped statue found behind a door whose lock Roman had to pick. It was a convoluted set of clues that had led them to discover exactly what position each claw had to be set to.

"It isn't as bad as all that," Snatcher reassured. "I'm certain our prize is mere moments away."

The wall fell away, revealing a passage beyond.

"Someone fetch Monseiur Overkill," Snatcher demanded. "We are in need of his light once more."

Roman turned an about-face only to be struck by an odd sight. "Does the bottom of this shelf look loose to you?"

"Now who's messing with random things?" Rémington said as Roman grasped one of the pinions of the shelf and discovered it to be a lever.

Pulling the lever revealed an altogether different passageway, one with a much shorter door. "Is that what I THINK it is?" Roman wondered out loud as he stepped inside.

It was, indeed, a slide. And when Roman set foot on it, he slipped, suddenly careening down the length of the metal.

"Anyway," Scarlet told Neo as they and Herb crossed the atrium, "the moral of the story is don't try to pilot a torpedo-outfitted submarine through a waterpark."

This was punctuated by a segment of wall opening up to spit Roman directly out at them, giving him a less than graceful landing on the floor.

"Hey, Herb-al Tea," Roman said as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. "We're gonna need your flashlight."

...

The new passageway opened by the dragon led to another puzzle-blocked wall, one that required passwords to match hint words provided.

"Simple word association," Snatcher bragged as he entered "bonnet" to the word "baby." "Simple for me, anyhow."

"Can I try one?" Scarlet asked.

"ABSOUTELY NOT," Snatcher growled. Catching himself, he laughed; "Too many cooks do spoil the soup, after all. And look! I've finished."

The wall slid open, revealing even more corridor beyond. After a descent of some length, the group reached the wall with the other half of the triangle puzzle.

"I actually think I figured out how to do this one when we were investigating the library," Roman muttered, fidgeting with the tiles. "I took the liberty of going in and cleaning up the one on the other side. You're welcome."

This opened a new door, one that led deeper into the bowels of the manor.

"Okay, this is getting way creepy," Herb said with a shudder.

"You don't have to go in if you don't want," Scarlet told him. "We still have a lot to figure out in the upper level, anyway. The room with the star chart, that keyhole that won't move, that weird game machine…"

"We'd better split up again," Roman said decisively, thinking about how he wanted to try liberating a stick of butter from the kitchen to grease up the keyhole Scarlet had mentioned, and it was best to keep butter as far away from Snatcher as possible. "This hallway looks like a job for the leader of our little group." He clapped Snatcher on the shoulder. "Take it away."

"You'll need this," Herb said as he handed Snatcher the flashlight.

"I would be quite honored," Snatcher stated. "I do agree; this is a job best suited for one such as myself. Who knows what risks there are to be taken with exploring the depths?"

"I'm going with you," Scarlet volunteered.

"Madame Overkill," Snatcher told her, "that will most certainly not be necessary."

"I want to see what's down there," Scarlet told him. "We went to all the work of opening this passage up. I'm not missing out on this."

"There is really no need." Snatcher's teeth gritted.

"I," Scarlet insisted, "want. To go."

"I'd rather you – "

"Give me ONE GOOD REASON I shouldn't go into that passage."

Snatcher cleared his throat. "Well, it could potentially prove hazardous to a woman of your fragility – "

"That's it." Scarlet swiped the flashlight from Snatcher's hand and marched forward. "I'm going. Follow me or be left behind."

Grumbling, Snatcher had no choice but to catch up to Scarlet.

That left everyone else to find their way back up to the main level in the dark. "Am I the only one picking up some seriously bad vibes off Frou Frou?" Herb asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Roman lied.

"I dunno," Herb went on. "Ever since Wickford, I just get the feeling that your team leader doesn't like Scarlet and me for some reason."

"That does seem to be what's happening," Grany mused. He and Rémington mulled this information over.

"You're reading the situation wrong," Roman insisted. "It's nothing. Anyway, about that keyhole…"

Neo knew Roman was covering for something, but she knew better than to dig.

Down in the passageway beneath the manor, a faint green glow led Scarlet to open up a compartment in the wall that contained a luminous lime-colored stone. "Now we both have one," she said as she picked up the rock and handed the flashlight off to Snatcher.

"Another miraculous discovery by Madame Overkill," Snatcher sighed as he took hold of the flashlight.

"Okay, what is your problem?" Scarlet asked as she pried open the nearby door.

"Problem?" Snatcher repeated. "My dear, I haven't the faintest what you're talking about."

"Oh, you know EXACTLY what I'm talking about," Scarlet growled as she stormed ahead to open the next door, a set of double doors with the arrow-and-circle of Mars engraved upon it in four places. "You have a problem with me."

"Madame Overkill, I can assure you, you are quite mistaken – "

"No. I'm not," Scarlet grunted as she and Snatcher passed through the Mars door.

Immediately after shutting the door, they both felt a shuddering motion; they had entered a small chamber, with sets of double doors on all sides, and the floor had just changed position. "Okay, I think the room just moved on us," Scarlet said worriedly.

"What do you mean, it moved?" Snatcher repeated.

"I mean it MOVED," Scarlet told him. "This room is MOVING. Hang on. Let's try another one."

They moved through another set of doors to feel the same motion again.

"Definitely moving rooms," Scarlet identified. "We'd better stay together if we don't want to get split up. Unless that's what you want."

They progressed, or at least tried to, through the labyrinth of rotating rooms. "Whyever would I want such a thing, Madame Overkill?" Snatcher asked innocently.

"I don't know!" Scarlet groaned in frustration. "But do you remember why I wanted to take the queen's crown back home in the first place?"

"For power."

"Well, yes," Scarlet sighed, "but more importantly, I wanted everyone to like me! You can't not like the queen! And if you don't like the queen, she has the power to execute you! All my life, I've just wanted everyone to like me! Now here I am, making friends with fellow villains who share my interests, and most of them like me. Except you. You got mad at me and stormed out of the juice bar, and ever since then, you've been passive-aggressive at both me and Herb. We have so much in common! We were going to be siblings! And you seemed to like me at first! So I need to know: WHY DON'T YOU LIKE ME?"

Snatcher knew denial would prove fruitless. "It's complex to explain," he said in his natural timbre. "Also, what is on that pedestal?"

The room they had entered was identical to all the other moving rooms but for a pedestal that ended in a vague cauldron shape. Inside the cauldron lay a small tile depicting a loop of lines, squares marked with stick-figure angels and devils, and a bright red dot.

"I have no idea what this is," Scarlet stated.

"Then give it to someone competent!" Snatcher barked.

"I would," Scarlet retorted, "but you're the only one here." She forked over the tile.

Snatcher examined it, holding it to the flashlight to pore over its details. "I've no idea what this is."

"That's what I said!"

"Let us just forget about it and press onward."

They moved into the next room. "So, are you going to answer my question?" Scarlet asked.

"I said it's complex."

"Well, we're going to get nowhere if you don't at least TRY to explain it to me!"

Snatcher grit his teeth. "To put it most simply," he said, "because of certain factors, you got everything I ever wanted. And now you've your sights set on ridding me of the rapport I've built up with my fellows in the WHAM ARMY. Torchwick I can count on, but Misters Smisse and Miss Neopolitan are thoroughly charmed with you. And, as you and I have so much in common save for your naturally social demeanor, it's a matter of time before they gravitate toward you and away from me. I'd half considered rescinding your membership in the WHAM ARMY. Then you'd be my problem no longer!"

Scarlet was silent for a moment. Then: "I didn't volunteer to come down here because I wanted to see these rooms. I came down here so I could get you alone."

"You intended to kill me, is that it? Where no one would know?"

"No!" Scarlet said, offended. "I came down here to get you to TALK about this! I thought maybe you didn't want to tell the truth in front of everyone else! I don't want to kill you! I don't want to replace you, either! I NEVER wanted that! I just wanted you and your friends to like me because I like you and your friends! If I wanted you out, I wouldn't be bothering you about this!" She sighed. "And about me getting everything you wanted. Did you miss the part where I LOST everything you wanted? I don't know what makes you think I could have gotten the power you were looking for, but I had it, and I lost it. You and me, we BOTH lost everything. You being me wouldn't have made a single difference."

They stood stone still in the room they'd made it to, yet another room identical to the last score. "Well?" Scarlet prodded. "Do you just want to kick me off the team? Keep your friends to yourself?"

"No," Snatcher insisted.

"Then stop being such a jerk to me about things that didn't happen and won't happen!"

There was another silence before Snatcher admitted, "I suppose I've got to. You raise quite a valid point, Mrs. Overkill. In all honesty, you did strike me as somewhat of a kindred spirit. That, along with the faith I have in your skills, is what's keeping you my ally."

"Can we just be friends?" Scarlet asked plaintively. "No competition?"

"That we can," Snatcher sighed. "I shall correct my behavior appropriately. Do not, however, make me apologize."

"I won't," Scarlet promised.

"Because I'm not one for apologies."

"Just so long as you start treating me like I'm at least your teammate. What actually started all this, anyway?"

"You'll think it petty," Snatcher told her, "but your husband reminded me of someone I had a falling-out with and failed to win over. That set off a chain of similar thoughts regarding your successes."

"You're jealous of me and Herb?" Scarlet repeated. "I thought you were with Roman."

"I am."

"And aren't you happy?"

"Ecstatic!" Snatcher replied without missing a beat.

"Then why are you mad about me and Herb?" Scarlet asked.

"You know…I can't think of a good reason," Snatcher confessed. "Shall we end it at that?"

"If you got everything out on the table, then I don't think we have anything else to talk about."

"Besides the fact that we're going in circles," Snatcher commented.

"Are we?" Scarlet asked. "Because I thought we just resolved everything – "

"Not in conversation, Mrs. Overkill. In this labyrinth. These rooms have been shuffling us back around to where we started."

"I refuse to die down here," Scarlet growled.

"If only we had some sort of map – " Snatcher was hit with the realization. "The tile." He held it back out to the light. The position of the red spot had changed. "This red spot is us. Appropriate color, I should say. It tracks our position through the labyrinth using some sort of magic."

"Or magnets," Scarlet suggested. "Probably magnets."

"If we pay attention to how the rooms move," Snatcher realized, "and track the red spot's position, we can navigate our way! Though I'm not quite sure where our destination is…"

Scarlet pointed to the upper edge of the tile. "I'd say marking a spot with an angel is a pretty good indicator that it's the right place to go," she observed.

"Well spotted, Mrs. Overkill."

"You figured out the hard part."

They smiled at each other, aware that their bridge had been mended.

Using the new information of the map, Scarlet and Snatcher figured out the pattern of the rooms, finally reaching the doors that opened upon the end of the road, marked by a wall with another carved eye in it. Set in this eye was yet another tile puzzle.

"Okay, you'd think that the MOVING ROOMS would be enough of a security device to stop people from getting in here," Scarlet sighed. "This door did NOT NEED ANOTHER LOCK."

Snatcher was quietly surveying the tiles, shining his light over the engravings. A grid of symbols that looked familiar to him took up the left half. They were connected by an etched line to a center tile with a glyph of a cauldron, and the right side of the puzzle displayed a larger symbol, again sparking something in Snatcher's memory.

"It kind of looks like the Norse runes," Scarlet muttered, "but it's not Norse runes…"

"No, it isn't," Snatcher realized. "These symbols are alchemical."

"How do you know that?"

"I've friends, other founders of the WHAM ARMY, who utilize alchemy," Snatcher explained. "They've tried to give me an explanation or two. Were my mind not on more important matters at the time, I could easily have picked up the art. As it stands…" He withdrew his scroll. "We'll need to call for backup."

"Your friends?" Scarlet asked.

"Quite so," Snatcher informed her. "Lord Mozenrath will certainly be able to explain this."

He attempted to call Mozenrath, but found the line busy. "In that case," he muttered, "Mr. Vexen will know."

But that line was also occupied. "Well, it's Plan C then," Snatcher resolved, dialing a third number and putting the connection on speaker.

On the other side of the line, a woman's voice rasped, "Whoever this is, you had better have a VERY good reason for calling me in the middle of an absolutely important facial!"

"Miss Yzma!" Snatcher greeted. "Good to speak to you as well."

"Snatcher?"

"Quite so," Snatcher answered. "And I've brought a friend."

"Uh…hi?" Scarlet said gingerly. "Scarlet Overkill here. I'm apparently joining your WHAM ARMY."

"Welcome aboard," Yzma said dryly. "This still doesn't explain why you had to call me in the middle of spa day."

"Spa day?" Scarlet repeated. "Lucky you!"

"Yes, yes, lucky me," Yzma answered, "if only I weren't bothered by scroll calls." In the background, there was the muttering of a male voice. Yzma replied to that voice, "It's Archibald Snatcher. He's got a new friend." Back in the mouthpiece, Yzma said, "Zevon says hellolutations."

"Er…Zevon?" Snatcher repeated.

"Zevon!" Yzma insisted. "My long-lost son, Zevon! We had this revelation right before you left!"

"Well, tell your son we say hi!" Scarlet chirped.

"They say hello," Yzma said away from the scroll. Then, back to the mouthpiece, "Now, if you don't give me a good reason for this call in the next ten seconds, I'm hanging up."

"You know alchemy," Snatcher explained, "and we need a primer in alchemy."

"Why do you need to know ALCHEMY?" Yzma asked, astounded.

"A puzzle lock guarding a very unnecessary door," Snatcher told her.

"Speaking as someone whose name is literally 'Overkill,'" Scarlet added, "this is overkill."

"All right," Yzma sighed, "tell me what you're looking at."

"A grid of various symbols on one side," Snatcher said, "a cauldron in the middle, and a much larger symbol on the other."

"What's the big one look like?" Yzma asked.

"A sort of inverted triangle," Snatcher described, "with lines extending from its right side."

"Ah, aqua fortis!" Yzma identified. "I think I see where this is going. In the grid, is there a circle with a line through it?"

"Yes…"

"That's nitre," Yzma explained. "Is there also a circle bisected from the top down, with its right half bisected horizontally, and a bit of a tail extending from the right?"

"Also there."

"Vitriol," Yzma identified. "Combine one part nitre and one part vitriol to make your aqua fortis."

"Mrs. Overkill?" Snatcher gestured to the grid. "Would you do the honors?"

Scarlet pressed the buttons for nitre and vitriol, then the cauldron tile. The aqua fortis shape changed to another.

"All right, that seems to have worked," Snatcher relayed, "but now the symbol has changed to an inverted triangle with a letter 'R.'"

"Aqua regia," Yzma identified. "This is child's play."

Yzma talked Snatcher and Scarlet through five symbols, after which there was a groaning as the wall gave way. "That's done it!" Snatcher announced. "Much appreciated help, Miss Yzma!"

"Eh, what are friends for if not describing the ingredients to hypothetical alchemical concoctions during spa day?" Yzma said casually.

"Speaking of spa day," Snatcher concluded, "we shall leave you to it. We can most certainly take it from here."

"It was nice to meet you!" Scarlet added. "Well…sort of meet you."

"Let me know what was behind that door when you get back," Yzma said before hanging up.

"She seemed smart," Scarlet commented.

"In many regards, she is very much so," Snatcher told Scarlet, "but do not let her come up with the overall game plan for anything."

Beyond the last wall, the flashlight and glowing green rock were no longer necessary. The room beyond was devoted largely to a glowing forge. Crude weapons, swords and axes, were pinned to the wall. Spread around the room were tables filled with beakers and glasses of variegated shapes and sizes.

"Is this an alchemy room?" Scarlet wondered out loud as she stepped inside, casting her gaze about in awe.

"I would guess so," Snatcher said as he followed. His attention was drawn to one of the side walls, where a metal hexagon with a large vertical slot inset adorned the wall. "Now, what's this?"

"Maybe some kind of vault," Scarlet guessed. "It kind of reminds me of a keyhole."

"If only we had that spiky-headed child's sword," Snatcher muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing. Let us search about. There must be more here than meets the eye."

Scarlet approached the edge of the forge while Snatcher moved to one of the tables, picking up a leather-bound book. Scarlet traced the forge's lip, picking up dust on her black glove. Her hand alit on a metal mold inset with several crosses; it looked to her to be the same size and shape as the keyhole. "Mr. Snatcher?" she announced. "I think I found something for making the key to that hole."

"Let me see." Snatcher carried the worn book with him as he approached Scarlet. "It certainly does look to be the same shape. But how does one configure these crosses?" He ran his finger over the mold, showing that the crosses could depress or be raised in different patterns.

"Is there an answer in that book?" Scarlet asked.

"Not that I've found yet," Snatcher said with a sly grin, one that manifested of the need to cover frustration by forcing that frustration upon someone else. "But do you know what I did find?"

"Do I WANT to know what you did find?"

"Several references, Mrs. Overkill," Snatcher revealed, "to a host more puzzles required to start the forge."

It took a moment for Scarlet to absorb that information. Then she growled, "Roman was right about the person who designed this."

...

Every wall and bridge in the city that housed the Northern Water Tribe was the soft blue-white color of ice. Architecturally, it was a marvel, with canals serving as the streets between towering buildings. Vexen might have found it aesthetically pleasing if he were not focused on his conversation with Ravess during his walk down the side of the main canal.

"And what was I supposed to do?" he barked into the scroll. "Let them be taken by the enemy?...No, of course I have no true attachment to them, but we are allies for a reason…It would have been far more trouble than it was worth…You expected SMARTER? From ME? How DARE you!..."

"This lovers' quarrel has been going on for hours," Wuya sighed as she, the Huntsman, Mim, and Xayide trailed behind Vexen.

Vexen turned away from the scroll long enough to yell "WE ARE NOT LOVERS!" at Wuya before pressing the device back to his face. "Never you mind…No, you don't want to know…Stop trying to change the subject!..."

"Also, are we just going to ignore the fact that we were saved by our archenemies?" Wuya said to the other three. "Our OTHER archenemies, I mean."

"I'd rather ignore it," Mim huffed. "I don't want any of them claiming we owe them for this!"

"What would drive them to release us?" the Huntsman wondered out loud. "We have caused them nothing but pain."

"You almost say that like you regret it," Xayide pointed out.

"Make no mistake, I do not," the Huntsman told her. "I would cause them a century more of pain. They stand in our way and protect impure creatures. Everything we have dealt them, they have asked for, and more. I look forward to the day we can finally be rid of them permanently. I pose the question because I do not understand why they have shown us what to them would seem a kindness. They have hardly seen fit to let us have our way before."

"Facilier crossed a line," Wuya told him. "Everyone could see that. And those people were just too GOOD to let him get away with it. That's how good works. It's absolutely frustrating on the best of days. We should have been able to figure out a way to set ourselves free with nothing but pure evil!"

"We would have," the Huntsman told her, "had we been allotted more time."

"Perhaps we should not resent the events that have taken place," Xayide suggested. "Thanks to their help, we are now free much sooner than we would have been otherwise."

"I'm still going to kill them," Mim huffed.

"As am I," Xayide agreed. "I am in no debt."

"We're all agreed on that one," Wuya said with a nod.

"The monsters first," the Huntsman grunted. "The humans among them may die after watching their monster companions fall."

"I am still troubled that we were made so helpless," Xayide admitted. "Even with all our powers combined – "

"Lingering on that is just going to open up a can of worms," Wuya warned. "The last thing we need is any doubt. We made it here, Mozenrath is on his way, and we're going to save him."

"I'm going to kill Facilier, too," Mim went on. "And that Zhao. And Ozai! I'm killing them all, and you can't stop me!"

"No one wants to stop you," Wuya told her. "We all want to help you."

"First, we must be better prepared against Facilier's mastery of the Darkness," the Huntsman stated. "Perhaps there exists a weapon that can offer us an advantage. We shall look into it once our business here is concluded."

Vexen looked back over his shoulder. "Their ferry is coming through the gates of ice now," he informed them. Back to the scroll: "Yes, I have just INFORMED them of that!..."

"Well, let's go!" Mim encouraged.

Waterbenders controlled the gates leading into the city, opening pathways through gargantuan walls of ice that could not have existed without the waterbending art. The ferry docked at the inner canal, letting its passengers off: a rare and new occurrence, since mass transit to and from the North Pole had only truly begun after the war ended. Mozenrath remained propped up on Aghoul, but still he stood. Ragdoll cartwheeled down the gangplank to wait for them at the bottom; Ravess trailed, still locked in an argument with Vexen.

"Well, then, try not to get your souls stolen on the way here! Or is that too much to ask?" she snapped. "It's a reasonable question!...Well, you've given me reason to!..."

"Are you really going to keep tying up my phone talking to your boyfriend?" Mozenrath sighed.

Ravess reached over and flicked him hard on the nose.

"I'M DYING," Mozenrath snapped at her.

"I don't care!" Ravess retorted. Then, in the scroll: "Oh, Mozenrath was just being insufferable…No, I don't care that he's dying, and I didn't think you would either!...I meant that in regards to punishing him for being insufferable! Not that I wanted to let him DIE!...Of COURSE I know how lost we'd be without him!"

"Then you'll make sure he gets here in one piece!" Vexen's voice was heard from a distance.

"Why are you so worried about ME letting him come to harm?" Ravess barked. "You're the one who got your soul stolen!"

"And you're the one who walked into a nest of Dai Li!" Vexen's voice was getting closer.

"Without a scratch on me!" Ravess argued. "And why was Mozenrath captured by the Dai Li in the first place? One of YOU should have been keeping watch!"

The two groups drew ever nearer, guided by the beacon of Ravess and Vexen's bickering voices:

"And which one of us could have been spared to do such a thing?"

"Literally any of you!"

"I knew what I was doing!"

"It doesn't look that way to me!"

"Do YOU know what YOU'RE doing?"

"I should think I do! I've been doing it well up to this point!"

At last, both factions came within sight of each other on the sidewalk. As soon as they made eye contact, Ravess and Vexen hung up the scrolls simultaneously. Vexen pocketed his while Ravess handed Mozenrath's back to him. They strode toward each other with three long paces each before continuing their argument to each other's face:

"We couldn't have afforded to lose the three of you too!"

"What was I supposed to do? Let Mozenrath die?"

"You are an archer! You fall short at close-rate combat! What if you had been eliminated?"

"But I WASN'T! Why is that so difficult to understand?"

The others ignored the quarreling pair.

"GHOULIE!" Mim charged Aghoul, who let Mozenrath fall clumsily to the ground in order to catch her and embrace her with both arms.

"My Mimsie!" Aghoul replied as he and Mim began to kiss sloppily and heavily.

"I am still dying," Mozenrath muttered from the ground.

The Huntsman was immediately kneeling at his side, looping an arm around him to help him stand. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"I don't think I'm any worse than since you left me," Mozenrath answered. "I'm still not, by any definition, doing well. But no worse."

"He must have been thrilled to see YOU on the rescue team," Wuya told Ragdoll.

"Who wouldn't be?" Ragdoll replied coyly. "Look at us. Together again! This is cause for celebration, wouldn't you think?"
"Those two would disagree," Xayide said as she eyed Ravess and Vexen.

"There is no time to celebrate," the Huntsman insisted. "Mozenrath's situation is still dire. We must get him to a comfortable place where he can rest, then set to acquiring these Spirit Waters."

"Let's get moving," Wuya stated as she turned and stalked back into town.

The Huntsman helped Mozenrath move along behind her. Ragdoll and Xayide turned to follow.

"Keep up or get left behind," Mozenrath snapped at the four stragglers.

Mim and Aghoul reluctantly broke up their makeout session to tag along. Ravess and Vexen decided they could walk and argue at the same time.

They settled Mozenrath in at an inn, tucking him into bed much as they'd done in Ba Sing Se. Vexen abandoned his argument with Ravess long enough to give him advice: "It is truly imperative that you do not move. You have strained yourself enough already. I am surprised you have lasted this long."

"What can I say?" Mozenrath replied coyly. "I'm a survivor."

"Maybe this time," Ravess suggested, "you can actually leave someone to WATCH HIM and make sure he isn't captured."

"I was just about to address that matter," Vexen grumbled.

"I will stay with him," the Huntsman said immediately.

Vexen raised a brow at the Huntsman. "If that is your wish. The rest of us will venture deeper into the city to locate the Spirit Waters. But before we depart, I would like a word with you. Outside this room. Alone."

The Huntsman nodded, following Vexen into the hallway.

In a hushed tone, Vexen hissed, "I see right through you. It is your feelings for him that keep you here and inspire you to stand guard over him."

"I do not see why that should be a problem," the Huntsman admitted.

"Trust me," Vexen told him. "Once you fall prey to love, you forget yourself. Your convictions, your purpose, your standards: all shall collapse as you prioritize the one you love above what matters most."

"Mozenrath's survival is what matters most," the Huntsman insisted.

"Today," Vexen agreed. "When he is of better health, your goals may not be so fortuitously aligned. You will have to choose between him and what should truly matter to you."

"Are you speaking from experience?" the Huntsman wondered.

"No," Vexen replied. "I have never been such a fool. I speak from a place of study and observation. My time working under Ansem the Wise revealed to me much of love and its pitfalls. Time and again, Ansem forgot himself as he sacrificed in order to protect and placate his wife, his daughter, his adoptive son, his mother, his friends. The latter was what finally did him in. Had he no attachments, he would have been a much stronger man: one we could potentially fear. As it is, even if he were still present in the realm of light, he would be too weak to be considered a threat. I would know exactly how to target him, as would many other of his enemies. And should you keep treading the path you have set out on, your enemies will know how to target you. Facilier already knows that the route to you is through Mozenrath, and that is risk enough."

"I am strong enough to withstand the consequences," the Huntsman insisted, though Vexen's words were starting to swim in the depths of his consciousness. He had gone without love for the majority of his life, and he had never suffered for it. The closest he had ever been to someone was Rose, the Huntsgirl, and she had turned on him, abusing his trust to strike him down at the moment of his victory. He had not been strong enough to withstand the consequences then.

"This is my final attempt to get through to you," Vexen said with a shake of his head. "After this, you are on your own. I can only hope you heed my warning before it is too late."

"If you do not truly care about any of us," the Huntsman posed, "then why warn me?"

"Your weakness contributes to our army's weakness," Vexen answered. "It is nothing personal."

When they returned to the room, Vexen fired a sharp glare in Ravess' direction; she returned fire, but neither used words against the other. "You know your assignments," Vexen said coldly. "All but the Huntsman, follow me."

The room slowly emptied out but for two.

The Huntsman looked upon Mozenrath, who lay fully back in the bed, his flesh looking strikingly bloodless. "Talk to me," Mozenrath commanded, in need of a diversion from his condition and the doom that clouded him.

"Name the subject," the Huntsman replied.

"What happened to you after you left me in Ba Sing Se," Mozenrath said. "Tell me everything."

The Huntsman immediately launched into the story. As he spoke of the group's encounter with Facilier, Mozenrath listened raptly. It was not a complete distraction, but it was just enough that he would not become steeped in despair.

...

Vexen took the lead of Wuya, Mim, Xayide, Ravess, Aghoul, and Ragdoll. "We are close indeed to our goal," he explained, "but several obstacles stand in our way. For one, the Spirit Waters are at the heart of the city and sure to be heavily guarded. We can choose stealth or brute force, but we must be careful that we choose the right path so as not to end up fighting half the city. Furthermore, once the Spirit Waters are in our possession, we will still need to figure out how to apply them. Fortunately, I – "

"Figure out how to apply them?" Ravess repeated. "You mean all this time, we've been going after something that we don't even know how to USE?"

"I thought it would be as simple as making him drink the stuff!" Mim barked.

"I am afraid not," Vexen informed the group. "That would in fact be an absolute waste of the waters' power. They must be applied to Mozenrath's body by a waterbender or a wielder of water magic. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, as I wield power over ice, I am classifiable as such. I have never attempted water healing before, but it cannot possibly so difficult that I cannot accomplish it."

"And we're betting everything on you being able to do something you've never tried before in your life," Wuya snorted.

"Unless any of you have any power resembling water healing," Vexen retorted. "Which, given your ties to the Darkness, I highly doubt you are able to do."

"You are tied to the Darkness as well," Xayide reminded.

As Vexen turned to give her a rebuttal, his shoulder collided with one of the people walking in the opposite direction. Momentarily distracted, Vexen turned to the offender to tell him off. "Watch where you're walking!" he scolded.

His eyes locked with the person he'd bumped. Both froze, recognition washing over them. Then, face betraying how flabbergasted he was, the stranger – though he wasn't a stranger to Vexen – said "Uh-oh."

"YOU!" Vexen growled.

The young man turned and ran, giving a yelp.

"AFTER HIM!" Vexen commanded, pointing decisively.

"And why should we be?" Mim asked defiantly.

"Because he is a spy from Xehanort!" Vexen insisted, already jogging after the young man, who was ever gaining in speed. "If he reports to his master, all is lost!"

The young man turned a corner, hoping to lose Vexen by complicating his course. And not a moment too soon; one of Ravess' explosive arrows impacted where he'd turned as soon as he departed the spot. "Whoa!" he squeaked as he kept on running.

Wuya dropped from above, blocking his path. He tried to dodge around her left, then right; she moved to mirror him both times, stopping him from running further. She then spun, planting a kick into his chest. He went reeling back, tripping over Ragdoll's outstretched leg and falling hard on his back. Thick ropes wrapped around him, courtesy of Xayide; he struggled in vain.

Wuya, Ragdoll, Xayide, Ravess, Aghoul, Mim, and Vexen crowded together over the young man, looking him over. He was dressed in the thick blue clothing of the Water Tribe, though his light skin tone and dirty blond hair suggested his lineage came from elsewhere. Said hair was cut into a mullet that framed his youthful face, giving him a very casual air.

"What are you doing here?" Vexen growled as he looked down at the now panicking man.

"I'm just trying to get by, okay?" the man said in a quivering voice. "You don't need to tell the big guy I was here! He doesn't want me anyway! He sent me out to die, remember? …Okay, you wouldn't remember. You were already dead. But seriously, I'm no good to him! So just…back off, okay?"

"This is an old friend of yours?" Wuya asked dryly.

"A co-worker at best," Vexen answered. "Barely a colleague. Definitely not a friend."

"You never had any friends anyway," the young man insulted.

"I never needed friends," Vexen insisted.

"Yeah, well, even if you wanted friends, no one would be friends with you," the young man continued.

"You say this as if it will even slightly wound me," Vexen sniffed.

"Does this one have a name?" Ragdoll asked.

"We called him 'Demyx,'" Vexen answered. "We worked side-by-side under Xemnas in Organization XIII."

"Heyyyy, I'm not a nobody anymore!" the one known as Demyx protested. "I have an actual name now! And it's – "

Vexen pressed a foot on Demyx's throat, silencing him. "You will answer my question," he insisted. "What are you doing here?"

Demyx responded with a series of choking noises.

"I don't think he can answer you with your foot on his neck," Wuya observed.

"That doesn't matter!" Mim argued. "Listening to him choke is hilarious!"

"You should strangle him," Aghoul suggested.

Vexen instead moved his foot to Demyx's chest. "Speak," he commanded.

"I told you!" Demyx yelped. "I'm just trying to get by! After I came back, I knew I never wanted anything to do with Xemnas or any of his 'Norts again, so I found somewhere I could blend in! Nobody bothers me here! They haven't even caught me stealing ONCE yet!"

"So you're a thief," Ragdoll noticed.

"Yeah, and a good one," Demyx bragged. "When I needed the Olympus Stone to keep my powers in the Underworld, I swiped it right out from under the gods' noses! And I got it off that mountain without anyone noticing!"

"You're lying," Aghoul accused. "No one could steal something from Mount Olympus without being subjected to at least two causes of painful death."

"Well, I did it," Demyx insisted.

"He was quite adept at stealth," Vexen admitted. "On the days he actually chose to fill out reports for reconnaissance, he was able to provide a wealth of information the rest of us could not access without betraying our position. The problem came down to his lack of will to fill out reports…or even set out to assigned reconnaissance missions in the first place."

"I didn't wanna die!" Demyx insisted. "You kept sending me on dangerous missions! Is that so wrong?"
"YOU ONCE REFUSED TO ENTER THE HUNDRED ACRE WOOD," Vexen reminded him.

"There were bees," Demyx said plainly. "Lots of bees. Like, sixty thousand bees."

"Wuya," Vexen commanded, "corroborate his story. Is he or is he not here on business from Xehanort?"

Wuya knelt down to place a hand on Demyx's forehead.

"Heyyyyy!" Demyx whined. "Hands off the merchandise!"

"He's telling the truth," Wuya informed the group. "He's an independent operator, and the most complex scheme in his head is pickpocketing somebody to pay for his lunch."

"So…wait," Demyx said, baffled. "YOU'RE not here from Xemnas?"

"Of course not!" Vexen snapped.

"We're here from something so much worse," Aghoul cackled.

Demyx swallowed hard. "You guys are…gonna let me go, right? Whatever you want, I'm no good for you!"

"He has a point," Vexen sighed. "He's utterly useless."

"Well, except for the part where he can steal anything without being noticed," Ragdoll pointed out. "We do need someone who can do exactly that."

"If only he possessed the water magic we needed as well," Xayide added.

"As a matter of fact…" Vexen looked down to Demyx with a grin.

"WHAT?" Demyx screeched. "What do you need ME for? You have an ice guy!"

"We require someone adept at water healing," Vexen told him.

"I've never done water healing before in my life!" Demyx attempted.

"Lies," Vexen sniffed. "I personally watched you use that sort of magic to cover paper cuts and mild scrapes that did not require water healing. But then again, you always were weak to pain."

"All right," Demyx huffed, ready to call the WHAM ARMY's bluff. "What'll you do to me if I refuse to work for you?"

"All sorts of fun things," Mim informed him. "We can make you regret ever being born."

"Between Mimsie's and my imaginations, we should be able to get hours of entertainment out of you," Aghoul added.

"Oh boy," Demyx whimpered.

"That would hardly be a productive use of our time," Xayide said calmly. "Why not instead extend a hand of friendship? We have thieves aplenty that he can play well with."

"You threaten me with torture," Demyx reiterated, "and now you wanna be FRIENDS? You're crazy!"

"Hear our offer," Xayide continued. "We come from an organization dedicated to conquest and chaos. All of us within the WHAM ARMY are kin. Our leader is dying, and we require someone who can bring him back to health with the Spirit Waters. Should you do this, we can offer you a place among our ranks. You can reap a share of our rewards."

"What are you doing?" Vexen groaned. "He isn't worth this!"

Wuya held up a hand. "Hear her out."

"What kind of rewards are we talkin'?" Demyx asked.

"Riches," Xayide told him. "Eventually, a throne."

"Mmmm…tempting," Demyx admitted, "but I'm done with all that stuff. I look out for number one now."

"That brings us to the less savory part of our deal," Xayide told him. "As you know, there are those among our number who have every intention of tormenting you until death. Should we decide not to go that route, we now know where you are and that you do not wish to be found."

"I'll just run away again," Demyx argued. "You'll never find me."

Xayide waved a hand; a small purse came loose from Demyx's pocket and flew to her hand.

"Give that back!" Demyx commanded.

"Now we have something of yours," Xayide told him. "You are familiar with locator spells? We can find you no matter where you go."

"Carrot and a stick, huh?" Demyx sighed. "All right. Fine. I really don't have any choice in this."

"Do us this favor," Xayide told him, "and all ill will shall be erased."

"I still have to join up with you, though, don't I?"

"The WHAM ARMY offers greater freedom than your Organization XIII ever did," Xayide told him. "We work toward a common goal, yes, but we are open to making stops to achieve the goals of those within our ranks. Whatever you want, you may chase, and with support. In return, your skills as a thief and a healer shall be valued."

"This is a mistake," Vexen sighed.

"If he joins us," Mim said, "it'll be that much easier to torture him."

"And he does seem such a promising victim," Aghoul added. "They're so much more fun when they panic."

"Can you keep me as far away from those two as possible?" Demyx asked.

"That I cannot promise," Xayide told him. "They are founding members. They go where they please and speak to whom they please."

"I could see the benefit to having someone like him around," Wuya added.

"I say we let him in," Ravess grunted.

"Are you only agreeing to this in order to be contrary to me?" Vexen asked Ravess.

"Is that not what you have been doing to me?" Ravess retorted.

"I must admit you interest me," Ragdoll told Demyx. "I am a master thief myself. Perhaps we could accomplish great things together."

"All right," Demyx relented, "I'm in. I'll join your…what did you call it?"

"The WHAM ARMY!" Mim answered.

"What kind of a name is WHAM ARMY?" Demyx asked.

"A name you will learn to respect," Vexen insisted, finally removing his foot from atop Demyx.

Xayide dismissed the ropes that bound Demyx down. Demyx stood gingerly, wondering if he should try and make a break for it. He knew, however, that present company was too smart for that. Xayide still had his purse, and could track him down easily.

"All we need you to do is steal a healthy amount of the Spirit Waters," Vexen briefed, "then meet us at an inn to perform the healing."

"Spirit Waters?" Demyx reiterated. "No problem! Getting in and out of there is gonna be a piece of cake. I would have done it before now if I actually knew what to use the waters for."

"We will know if you bring back a fake," Vexen warned. "And your fate in that case will not be pleasant."

Demyx had to admit he had been thinking about doing exactly that. It was hardly a matter. He hadn't been lying about the Spirit Waters being easy for him to steal. "I won't cheat you," he stated. "Promise."

Vexen told him the location of the inn he was to return to, and with that, Demyx set off.

"This had better be worth it," Vexen grumbled. "I was in no hurry to ever see him again."

"I rather like him," Ragdoll admitted. "Similar interests…but incredibly fun to scare."

"Ghoulie and I will keep him on his toes!" Mim promised.

"Somehow, that is not a relief," Vexen said sarcastically.

...

It had been a while since Demyx had required stealth for any task bigger than liberating a shop of its wares without paying. Now that he had a heart within his chest, one that belonged to him alone, he could feel it beating hard as he slunk toward the small wooden door that housed the most spiritual place in the North Pole. He slipped through that door without a sound, arriving in a current of warm air.

In the midst of the cavern, amid a lake of water, an island topped with grass and trees flourished. The heart of this island was host to a pool that nearly formed a circular shape but for one dent. A pair of koi swirled around each other in this pool: one white with a black spot and the other black with a white spot. Apparently, Demyx had heard, these were the spirits of moon and tide, though one of them, and Demyx was fuzzy on this detail, was apparently the soul of a lost princess.

Demyx had no intention of disturbing the koi beyond robbing them of a little bit of their home. He had made one stop along the way to this heist: to retrieve a large flask that was bound at his hip, sized to hold enough water for at least two shots at the healing. He hoped, anyway. He hadn't been told exactly how dire his patient's situation was. Or, he realized, his patient's name.

"Way to kick off a kinship," he muttered. "You'd think they'd have a little more faith in the guy who's here to save their boss's life."

He wanted to know ever so much more about this entire situation. What was Vexen doing with this crowd? Why wasn't he with Xemnas? Where did the WHAM ARMY come from? Who were the rest of them? As badly as he wanted to know the answers, he figured the only person who understood his background enough to give him the right context was Vexen, and he wasn't about to go grilling Vexen for answers.

Demyx uncorked the flask, waving at the nearly-circular pool. Water trickled up out of it in a line, feeding directly into the flask. The koi circled each other a little more rapidly, but made no other motion.

When the flask was at last full and the pool's surface line a little lower, Demyx capped the container. "What did I get myself into this time?" he moaned before turning back to set out for the inn.

...

The Huntsman had finished telling Mozenrath his tale of capture by Facilier, and Mozenrath responded in kind by telling the Huntsman as much as he could remember of his capture by and rescue from the Dai Li.

"Aghoul tried to make conversation by asking me about my preferred method of death," Mozenrath sighed.

"A most inappropriate subject," the Huntsman commented.

"It was topical at the very least," Mozenrath admitted. "It's not like that isn't the subject that's been on my mind ever since we arrived on this world. Might as well make me dredge it up and talk about it."

"I disagree," the Huntsman said.

But what if I want to talk about it? Mozenrath thought. Once again, he felt himself on the verge of an outpouring. He wanted to tell the Huntsman how this differed from his ideal death and just how much he feared it. He wanted to admit he was afraid. But he couldn't. It was practically a principle. No matter how much he felt he could confide in the Huntsman, no matter how comforted he felt in the Huntsman's presence, he refused to show signs of being any weaker than he already was. Already, he was losing color, his breathing getting ragged in between his words.

The others entered the room then, bringing the news of Demyx. Mozenrath expressed reluctance to letting the young thief into the fold, but when he was reminded that his life depended on it, he sighed, "Well, I guess we already have Ragdoll. He can't be much worse than that."

"He is," Vexen snorted.

"But Ghoulie and I have him covered," Mim insisted.

"How so?" Mozenrath asked.

By the time Demyx got back, it was in time to hear Wuya suggesting, "What about dehydration? His power is over water, so finding a way to dehydrate him must be absolute torture."

"Depending on how much control he has over water, he might just be able to re-hydrate himself," Mozenrath brought up. "Drowning him would be a much more fun irony."

"Are you all talking about ways to kill me if I screw up?" Demyx asked accusatorily.

"So this is the recruit," Mozenrath remarked, sizing Demyx up. "He doesn't look impressive, but then again, I'm not sure where my expectations should have been on that front."

"I don't look impressive?" Demyx rebutted. "Somehow I thought you'd be…older. You're practically a kid."

"I'm…at least twenty," Mozenrath argued. "I'm probably older than you, so you're going to show me the respect I deserve."

"Probably?" Demyx repeated. "What, you don't know?"

"I had a bad run-in with some Lethe water," Mozenrath sighed. "As one does."

"That'd do it," Demyx said with a nod. "But seriously, you're the guy in charge?" Maybe he had less to worry about than he thought. He pictured Mozenrath standing side-by-side with Xemnas. Based on looks alone, he knew which one he would rather call "boss."

"Are you here to heal me," Mozenrath asked, "or are you here to insult me? I'd think carefully before I answered. Your life might depend on picking the right one."

"I'm here to heal you!" Demyx said hastily. He held up the flask; "Look! I got the stuff! And boy, do you look like you need it. What happened to you?"

"Power has a price," Mozenrath told him, "and I paid it."

"See, this is why I tend NOT to go for power," Demyx groaned. "But maybe with you guys, it'll be worth it."

"Save your words," the Huntsman demanded. "Your magic must do the talking now."

"Mozenrath," Vexen ordered, "turn down that blanket and remove every article of clothing above your waist. Demyx will need contact with your body in order to complete the process."

"I tried to tell you," Demyx sighed, "my name is – "

"No one cares," Ravess and Wuya said at the same time.

Mozenrath set about stripping. Turning down the blanket was easy. Removing his shirt required him to utilize motor skills that were already draining. And once he had done so, he was hardly prepared for the reaction of his cohorts. Ravess, Ragdoll, the Huntsman, and Wuya flinched. Demyx let out an audible "Eeeewwww!". Aghoul and Mim leaned in for a closer look. Vexen was the only one whose stance and expression did not change.

Flesh still covered his neck and face, but otherwise, Mozenrath was a clean skeleton surrounding vital organs that faintly pulsed. He glanced down to see his own stomach lay bare beneath the points of his ribs. "Well, that's appetizing," he remarked.

"Do I have to?" Demyx groaned.

"Either you and I both live," Mozenrath threatened, "or neither of us does."

Demyx removed the cap from the flask. Calling a blob of water to surround each hand, he winced as he lowered his open palms over Mozenrath's rib cage. He hadn't expected the job to be this hefty. There was a good chance he wouldn't be able to complete it, he feared, and then his life would come to a swift end.

He put all of his concentration into the water at his fingertips, letting it glow with energy. His eyelids shut as he funneled his thoughts toward his magic. As it was, he didn't see the effect he was having at first.

Where there once had been exposed bone, flesh blossomed, skin on top and musculature reaching deep beneath it. For a moment, one could see Mozenrath's heartbeat quicken as he realized what was happening to him. Then the heart was covered, caged again by the proper anatomy. His chest filled out, then his arms, and presumably everything below the waist. As his newly regrown skin rejoined that which had already remained at his neck, the last of the water dried off Demyx's fingers.

Realizing he'd run out of water, Demyx opened his eyes to see how far he'd gotten. Once he realized he'd completely healed Mozenrath, he cried, "Hey! I DID IT!" After a pause: "…I mean, I knew I could."

The rest of the room let out a sigh of relief. "Looks like you're going to live to see another day!" Aghoul remarked.

Mozenrath held up both of his hands before his eyes. It had been a while since he had skin covering both. His right hand even had fingernails, which seemed so alien to him. "Well, I'm glad that's over with," he said dismissively, as though he hadn't spent so long on the brink of despair. "Now, I believe one of you has something of mine."

Aghoul produced the gauntlet, but Wuya held Aghoul's wrist down. "That thing is what got you in this mess in the first place," she reminded Mozenrath. "Are you really going to start playing with it again?"

"I think you know the answer to that," Mozenrath growled. "I want it. Now."

Wuya let go of Aghoul, knowing there was no stopping Mozenrath's desire to pay for power. Aghoul flipped the gauntlet toward Mozenrath, who caught it deftly before slipping it onto his right hand, where for once, it fit snugly.

"We are glad to have you back," the Huntsman stated, matter-of-fact.

Equally matter-of-fact, Mozenrath replied, "Well, George, it's good to be back." He slid out of the bed and began pulling on his clothing.

The Huntsman was struck with surprise. "You…just called me…"

As Mozenrath straightened out his shirt, he said almost apologetically, "I…suppose you wanted that to be a secret."

"Your name is GEORGE?" Wuya, Aghoul, and Mim all said in awe.

"That hardly matters," the Huntsman said, blown away. "I hadn't told Mozenrath my true name ever since…"

The implications finally impacted Mozenrath. His heart nearly stopped. "I remember," he realized. "I remember EVERYTHING."

"Of course!" Vexen realized. "The Spirit Waters have regenerative powers toward the mind as well! They would have been the perfect counteraction toward the Lethe Water!"

"I remember how we met," Mozenrath continued. "I remember necromancy! I also remember that I'm twenty-five." This was said with a pointed look toward Demyx.

"Okay, so you have a few years on me," Demyx sighed.

"This went better than expected," Wuya said with a smile.

"We're glad you're back to your old self!" Aghoul added.

"I also remember…one more thing." Mozenrath turned to the Huntsman. "This whole time, and you never told me we were an item."

"As of your memory erasure, we no longer were," the Huntsman informed Mozenrath. "It was as though we had only just met."

"Well, consider us back to business," Mozenrath told him. He knew he should punctuate this with some sort of physical gesture, and raised his now gauntleted right hand, only to be unsure of where to place it. Gingerly, he rested his palm upon the Huntsman's shoulder, hoping that was the appropriate spot.

The Huntsman mirrored the gesture, cupping Mozenrath's shoulder in his own hand.

"So THAT'S why you know his real name!" Mim cried.

"This is an interesting development," Wuya remarked. "I can't say it's an unpredictable one, but it's interesting."

"Love is in the air," Ragdoll remarked.

"It's not love," Mozenrath and the Huntsman said sternly as one.

"Well, it looks like you're in charge again," Aghoul told Mozenrath. "Where to next?"

"It would be a shame to leave this world so soon," Mozenrath sighed. "We haven't even tapped into its full potential. For all we know, one of the elements we need could be here. We are in a city full of people with water magic."

"Not magic," Vexen reminded him. "Bending. The two have a multitude of similarities, including the art of healing, but are not the same."

"What about the Spirit Waters?" Ravess realized. "Wouldn't those count as a pure form of the water element? We could send our new recruit back to get more."

"You don't need to." Demyx held up the flask, which he shook; a sloshing sound emitted from inside. "I didn't even use it all."

"Two birds," Mozenrath remarked, "one stone. You might be useful to us after all, Demyx."

"Okay," Demyx groaned, pointing to the Huntsman, "he gets HIS real name blabbed when he didn't want to and everyone's cool with this, but nobody even wants to HEAR mine?"

"No," Ragdoll confirmed with a wide grin.

"Well, we should at least do something celebratory here," Mozenrath mused. Looking to the Huntsman, he commented, "It's too bad I haven't heard anything about dragons on this world. Slaying one together would be the perfect way to spend some quality time."

"I can't believe I'm fueling this fire," Vexen sighed, "but just because you haven't heard of them doesn't mean they aren't present. We should discuss this on the move."

Everyone slowly filed out of the inn's room.

"Do you think this means Mozenrath is also cured of his hypnotism?" Ragdoll wondered out loud as they departed.

"I was curious as to the details of that," the Huntsman brought up, walking in step next to Mozenrath, whose hand had fallen away from him; the Huntsman had lowered his in kind. "It was the one thing Mozenrath could not recall when telling his story to me."

"His trigger words were 'The Earth King has invited you to Lake Laogai,'" Aghoul recalled.

Mozenrath froze in place, stiffening. His pupils widened, and a tranquil look washed over his face.

"I suppose this means he's not cured," Aghoul groaned.

"Cluck like a chicken!" Demyx commanded.

Aghoul smacked Demyx on the back of the head. "You can't command him! I'm the one who gave him the trigger words!"

"Attempting to humiliate your superior is not a good way to make an impression," the Huntsman growled.

Demyx backed up a few paces, intimidated by the Huntsman's tone. "Okay, okay! It was a joke!"

Aghoul sparked magic in his fingers as he snapped them in front of Mozenrath, who blinked rapidly to dispel the mild brainwashing he'd just undergone. "Don't tell me," Mozenrath sighed.

"It's no big deal," Wuya said. "We'll just have to make sure no one says the words 'The Earth King has invited you to – '"

Aghoul and Mim slapped their hands over her mouth.

As they spilled out into the street, Mozenrath commanded Vexen, "Tell us more about these dragons." He once again felt a desire to be closer to the Huntsman, but again was not entirely sure how to go about it. Feigning confidence, he lightly slid an arm around the Huntsman's back, not putting too much pressure in case he had made the incorrect move.

The Huntsman, surprised at the gesture, saw it as his cue to gently envelop Mozenrath's slender waist with his own arm. Twin shivers struck them both.

"Long ago, this world was heavily populated with dragons," Vexen explained. "They taught the firebenders of this world how to control their art. However, a trend of dragon hunters with much the same mentality as our very own…GEORGE…nearly wiped them all out. All but, according to rumors, a few. There is talk that at least one dragon, perhaps more, lives in the civilization of the Sun Warriors."

"He might say I was the recon guy," Demyx groaned, "but Vex was always willing to show me up."

"When I research a world," Vexen told him, "I am thorough and leave no stone unturned. Being able to turn in a more detailed report than you was only a matter of course. The knowledge of my superiority to you in that regard was a bonus. I had many chances to vet this world for important information. I do believe, should we follow the Sun Warrior lead, we may come across the dragons you seek."

"That's the real reason you're leading us to the dragons, isn't it?" Ravess huffed. "To prove that you were right about their location."

"Welcome to life with Vexen," Demyx groaned.

"Then let's go," Mozenrath resolved.

The entire group was halted by a cry of "THERE you are! You ain't gettin' away from us so easy!"

Facilier pointed to his quarry, Zhao flanking him.

"Well, well!" Mim turned to the pair, cracking her knuckles. "I've been waiting for THIS moment ever since we split up!"

Facilier snapped his fingers, and fifty Neo-Shadows sprang up from the ground.

"He has us outnumbered," Vexen observed. "We must flee!"

"Not before I kill him!" Mim argued.

The Neo-Shadows were already nearly upon the WHAM ARMY, claws stretching out to tear into flesh. Nearby civilians screamed and fled.

"No time to retreat!" Mozenrath left the Huntsman's side and charged up his gauntlet with blue energy.

"No." Demyx put a hand on Mozenrath's chest, pushing him back. Before Mozenrath could complain, Demyx simply said, "I got this."

Demyx reached one hand high into the air. In a shimmer, a distinctive object appeared in it: a stringed instrument, soft blue in color, as tall as Demyx himself. He clutched it by the shaft, spinning it once before planting its base on the ground and positioning his hands over the strings. As he cried, "DANCE, WATER, DANCE!", he struck a single chord.

A hundred forms made out of water, each shaped like Demyx himself, materialized into being, double-teaming each Neo-Shadow.

"That's…impressive," Mozenrath admitted.

"Now GO!" Demyx screamed. "GO, GO, GO!"

Vexen conjured a Corridor, bolting through it. Mozenrath, the Huntsman, Ragdoll, Aghoul, Wuya, Xayide, and Demyx followed at top speed. Ravess took two steps toward the Corridor before doubling back to grab Mim by the back of the collar and drag her into the portal.

As the portal closed, Facilier watched his Heartless do battle with the water clones. One by one, they were becoming eliminated.

"Shall we take the North Pole?" Zhao asked, ignoring the advance of Demyx's creations.

"We ain't got the solstice on our side anymore!" Facilier reminded him. "In broad daylight, we can't do what we did in the Capital! We coulda brought our targets down, but not the whole city!"

Zhao's hands flared as he finally took notice of Demyx's creations, which had eliminated the last of Facilier's minions. "I refuse to retreat," he growled.

"Then go ahead and die," Facilier told him, conjuring a Corridor of his own and striding through. He left it open a moment, waiting for Zhao to change his mind.

Zhao grit his teeth before realizing it was in his best interest to follow. Angrily throwing his flames to the ground, he barged into the Corridor after Facilier.

With no one left to fight, the water forms slopped into shapelessness, flowing into the canal and becoming one with the frigid water.