Three Corridors of Darkness opened into the control room. Mozenrath and Hans watched as Wuya, Yzma, Zevon, Scarlet, and Irmaplotz entered from one direction; Mim brought Aghoul, both Smisses, Ragdoll, and Firefly from another; and Xayide led the Huntsman, Snatcher, Roman, and Neo through the final aperture.

"Report," Mozenrath demanded.

"It's bad," Wuya began.

"Maleficent has removed all light from the sky," Xayide described. "The only way to see what one is doing is to make one's own light." She held up a small lantern she had conjured to light her way, and Mozenrath could see similar lanterns in the hands of her fellows from the scouting party.

"Not to mention an utter infestation of Heartless," the Huntsman added. "They thrive in this new atmosphere. We had to fight for our lives twice."

"Which was no problem for us," Rémington bragged.

"There are a LOT of dead people," Scarlet continued. "And I mean a LOT of dead people."

"Crashed vehicles, victims of natural disasters, simply evaporated at random…" Yzma ticked off on her fingers.

"If you weren't a master of ressurectomancy," Zevon told Mozenrath, "we would've been a lot more concernated."

"Zevon was actually terrified the whole time," Irmaplotz said flatly.

"So was Irmaplotz," Yzma added dryly.

"So was I, if we're being honest," Firefly stated.

"If it were only us who were responsible," Mim complained, "this would be the most beautiful event to occur in known history. But it's Maleficent who gets all the credit! It should've been us! Ooooh, I HATE her! Hate, hate, HAAAAATE!"

"Perhaps more concerning is our fate, knowing Maleficent's feelings toward us," Snatcher pointed out. "It's rather surprising she's spared us as long as she has."

"I am not questioning it," Roman said flatly. "Because I know the MOMENT I question it, it's all gonna fall apart."

"There is, of course, a rational explanation as to why all but me still have a pulse," Aghoul brought up. "Not a pleasant one, mind you."

"Tell me anyway," Mozenrath commanded.

"She intends to have some sort of twisted fun with us," Ragdoll explained. "And not the good sort of twisted."

"I don't put it past her to have some kind of excruciating torture waiting for us," Wuya agreed.

"It's what I'd do," Mim said with a shrug.

"So we can all agree that while the superficial effects of this development have been in our favor – " Mozenrath began.

"In our FAVOR?" Yzma spat. "HOW is this in our favor?"

"Isn't this what we wanted?" Mozenrath asked her. "Complete and total destruction and mayhem?"

Yzma took two strides toward Mozenrath and slapped him on the back of the head. "You IDIOT!" she snapped. "Don't you realize what happens if everything is destroyed?"

"This is obviously the part where you enlighten me by yelling in my face," Mozenrath grumbled.

"THERE'LL BE NOTHING LEFT TO CONQUER!" Yzma asserted.

"That…" Mozenrath considered it heavily. "Is very true."

"No one left to serve our whims!" Yzma reminded him. "No one left to bow to our will! No one left to remember our names!"

"Then let me amend my statement," Mozenrath corrected. "Literally nothing about this is in our favor."

That was met with several groans of reluctant agreement.

"Which brings me back to the point," Mozenrath said. "Maleficent has gone a bridge too far. We've been under the impression that we couldn't even hope to lay a finger on her and her forces."

"Mozenrath," Yzma said with wide eyes and a horrified expression, "this better not be going where I think it's going. Because if it is indeed going where I think it's going, it will be the singlehanded WORST idea you have ever had."

"And if Yzma thinks it's a bad idea," Roman added, "it's a fucking terrible idea."

"I'm saying Maleficent needs to be put in her place," Mozenrath insisted. "Which is why – "

"If that sentence ends with 'we're going to launch a full-scale invasion on her base of operations,'" Wuya grunted, "I'm done listening to you."

Mozenrath, unperturbed, said flatly, "We're going to launch a full-scale invasion on her base of operations."

"Goodnight." Wuya turned on a heel to leave the room.

"Wait," the Huntsman broke in; Wuya halted to hear what he had to say. "There is perhaps a safer option."

"You don't think we can pull off an assault on Maleficent?" Mozenrath said in disappointment. "Are we or are we not godslayers?"

"It took all of our forces banded together to subdue one goddess," Snatcher reminded him. "Maleficent has a god among her forces, along with any number of other monsters that are nothing to sneeze at."

"Even I know," Roman said in a voice of steel, "there are some bets you just. Don't. Take."

"Which is why I propose a counter option," the Huntsman stated. "We are but one item away from completing our spell. Should we successfully cast it, we will be in a position to override Maleficent's work. She will still have the power to alter fate, but in a multiverse we command. That will put us on somewhat more even footing."

"That is true!" Aghoul insisted. "All we need is a pure, concentrated element of fire!"

"Which we could obtain easily," Mozenrath mused. "Even at a time like this, fire isn't hard to find. Still, it would be a letdown to not give Maleficent a taste of her own medicine along the way."

"We all want to give her the what-for!" Mim insisted. "That's not even a question!"

"For what it's worth," Hans broke in, "I think it was a good idea. We're resourceful. If anyone could've found a way to get in and out of that castle and survive, it would be Mozenrath."

"There's flattery," Wuya told him, "and then there's idiocy."

"It's not getting in and out of the castle that would be the problem," Aghoul brought up. "It's lasting out the onslaught inside."

Mozenrath visibly flinched; something else had struck him. "So what you're saying," he reiterated, "is that if we wanted to, we could break into Maleficent's base of operations for a smaller goal, then leave before we got in over our heads?"

"WILL YOU STOP HAVING IDEAS?" Yzma barked.

"I wanna hear this one out," Hans insisted.

"As do I," the Huntsman asserted.

"Think about it," Mozenrath explained. "We need one more ingredient to cast our spell. We also want to give Maleficent's forces a good punch and remind them of why they shouldn't mess with us. What if we could kill two rocs with one stone?"

"What are you after?" Mim asked.

"Maleficent's magic is based in fire," Mozenrath explained. "She casts most of it with that staff of hers. Now, those who are avid followers of her work and have collected all manner of useless trivia about her know that the glass sphere that tops it off is known as the Dragon's Eye."

"Not that you were ever an avid follower of her work or anything," Hans said playfully.

"I may have picked up a few pieces of information before she rejected me," Mozenrath admitted. Everyone already knew what he really meant: he had idolized her. Better they know about that than all the factoids he had gathered reagarding Jafar, Mozenrath thought. "If we were to take the Dragon's Eye from her," Mozenrath went on, "and use it in OUR spell, it would be the final insult."

"And it would also get us written out of existence," Yzma pointed out.

"She could do that at any moment anyway," Mim reminded her.

"If we're doomed no matter what," Aghoul agreed, "we might as well have some fun on our way out."

"We won't know if we don't try, right?" Hans urged.

"We would need everyone on board, of course," Mozenrath mused. "Ideally, we could slip in, take the Dragon's Eye without being noticed, and be on our merry way. Of course, Maleficent would guard that little bauble too well for that. We'd have to expect some kind of fight. Hopefully, we can take her alone and off guard, but we might end up dealing with more of her allies than planned."

"And you have a plan for how exactly we get everyone into her base, right?" Roman asked.

"…Not yet," Mozenrath admitted. "That will require strategy. I need time to plan. Something better than just marching up to the front door."

"I say we march up to the front door anyway!" Mim insisted. "It's only to steal one orb, right? Then we can make as much of a mess as we want on the way!"

"I'll figure it out," Mozenrath stated. "Right now, I need to know I have all of you on board."

"I'm right beside you," Hans said immediately.

"Eh, why not?" Rémington said with a shrug.

"And if he's going," Grany said with a reference to his brother, "so am I."

"Now this will be a heist," Ragdoll said with a wider smile than ever.

"Could be a good time," Firefly agreed.

"I'm in," Scarlet said with a nod.

"Got me," Irmaplotz added.

"You have my loyaltery!" Zevon declared.

"I am aware you will need my power," Xayide said smugly. "How can I refuse?"

Neo gave Mozenrath a fervent nod and a thumbs-up.

"Got your back, Righty," Roman stated.

"Well, if we're all doomed anyhow, might as well," Snatcher resolved.

"You've got yourself a deal," Yzma added.

"Like you could even think to do it without me," Wuya said with a smirk.

"I'm going to make them all regret the days they spent crossing us!" Mim insisted.

"It's curtains for them," Aghoul added.

Mozenrath fixed his gaze on the Huntsman. "And you're with me?"

The Huntsman gave a single nod. "To the end."

"Then fan out and make sure everyone else is with the program," Mozenrath ordered. "We'll need to mobilize and organize. This assault doesn't launch until we are completely prepared. I want everyone equipped with their best weaponry, I want them well-fed and rested, I want affairs in order so no one's mind is on any last regrets."

"Though, really," Hans pointed out, "the only one at any real risk of dying permanently is you. Otherwise you could bring any of us back whenever you wanted. You're almost the biggest liability we have on the field. If I said you should stay back in order to preserve your own safety and make sure we all come out of this alive…"

"I REFUSE to not have a part in this mission," Mozenrath growled. "I want that clear among everyone."

"That's exactly what I thought you'd say," Hans replied, smiling softly. "That's what I love about you."

Mozenrath twitched. Did that statement equate to Hans saying that he loved Mozenrath? He had probably selected the worst time to bring that up. Mozenrath wasn't sure their partnership could be accurately labeled with that word, but to know that Hans loved him – or thought he did – was flattery beyond mere compliments. Of course Mozenrath was worthy of being loved; that was no question. He hadn't prepared himself for anyone to actually go and do it. That might not have even been what Hans had meant, however. It could simply have been an expression of admiration for Mozenrath's current and specific attitude. So Mozenrath did his best to brush it off.

"Go," he commanded. "The founders and I will remain in touch by scroll, and we'll decide when everyone's ready to meet up and move out."

The crowd dispersed, seeking out those yet unaware of the plan and considering their own tasks to fulfill before taking on the heist.

"So," Hans asked Mozenrath once they were alone in the room, "what were you planning on doing during prep time?"

"Strategizing our entry point," Mozenrath said somewhat derisively. "I thought I made that clear." He knew he couldn't fault Hans too much for not following; after all, Wuya had made it repeatedly clear that his head wasn't as full as it could be. Still, he expected his boyfriend to pay the bare minimum of attention.

"Well, yes," Hans responded, "but what were you going to do WHILE you were strategizing? Or were you just going to sit in one place doing nothing but thinking?"

"That was the general idea," Mozenrath told Hans.

"Okay," Hans replied, "but consider this. We're about to head into a very high-risk plan. There's a chance that after this, things won't be the same. And I know you refuse to entertain the thought, but there is a very teeny, tiny, SMALL chance that we'll lose you in this fight, and I won't ever see you again. Just some food for thought."

"And this is supposed to affect me how?" Mozenrath asked. "You're obviously aware of the risks and have time to come to grips with them."

"I was hoping we could come to grips with them together," Hans told him. "This won't be the last time we have. But let's just pretend it is."

Mozenrath had never been as good at reading people as Snatcher was. Not even close. He suddenly was aware, however, that not all was as it seemed with Hans. The redhead was putting up a cool exterior: flirty, confident. Mozenrath guessed, however, that the truth was quite different. Hans was afraid. Afraid, moreover, of losing Mozenrath. He was too proud to let it show, or perhaps he thought Mozenrath would dismiss him if he showed that sort of weakness. But Hans was in need, and Mozenrath realized he had to respond to that need. He certainly didn't want Hans to be in discomfort. For one, it would make him a distracted agent in the field.

For another, Mozenrath simply didn't want negativity to befall the man he'd become so fond of.

"Let's say it was," Mozenrath said at last. "Our last night together, if you will. How would you spend it?"

"It wouldn't have to be anything special," Hans told Mozenrath. "Just talking. Maybe over some light food. Get you that glass of milk you wanted. There's still so much I don't know about you, and…I wouldn't want it all to end before I learned it."

"I suppose I have some time for that," Mozenrath relented, giving Hans a coy smile and hoping it would lift his spirits. "My quarters, or yours?"

"Anywhere would be good," Hans told him.

"Then we'll go to mine," Mozenrath decided.

They set out walking, and Mozenrath was about to prompt Hans to ask any last questions he still had when Hans suddenly said, "Actually, now that I think about it…I know I said nothing special. But there's something I want to show you."

"Why do I feel like you have some kind of ulterior motive?" Mozenrath teased.

"Don't get me wrong," Hans told him. "I want to know more about you. But I do also admittedly like talking about myself, and there's a lot you don't know about me. If you don't mind, there's one place that would be really good to start."

"Your homeworld," Mozenrath guessed.

"Yeah," Hans said softly. "If you don't mind."

"You do know it's going to be crawling with Heartless and inconveniently dark," Mozenrath reminded him.

"So probably a bad idea," Hans backed off.

"I'm not saying that," Mozenrath told him. "Heartless, we can handle. And I'll take care of the light."

"Then let's go," Hans insisted. "This won't take long. Promise."

"It'll take as long as it needs to," Mozenrath assured him.

...

The Southern Isles were blanketed in the same darkness as everywhere else to exist. As soon as Mozenrath and Hans arrived, the former conjured up several wispy spheres of blue light to surround the pair. The soft ambient glow was almost romantic, in a way, Mozenrath thought. At least, he hoped it was. Romance was what he was going for here.

"It's this way," Hans urged as he made off in one particular direction, seeming to choose a path far away from civilization. Mozenrath didn't question it; he just followed, carrying along a basket that was kept chilled by magic.

Heartless cropped up every now and again, but Mozenrath disposed of them quickly. "You know," Hans remarked after the third mild skirmish, "if I had a weapon, I could help you."

"I know better by now than to give you a sword," Mozenrath teased.

At last, they arrived at a secluded beach, fenced in by rocky borders. A small structure, only big enough to be one room, stood at just the right position where the incoming tide couldn't reach it.

"Welcome to my hideout," Hans introduced. "This is where I would go every time I needed to be alone. Whenever I felt abused, or neglected, or ignored…I'd come here."

"So basically, a childhood sanctuary," Mozenrath deduced.

"Yeah," Hans said forlornly. "Childhood."

The interior proved it had definitely been kept up well past Hans' childhood. The furniture consisted of a bed, a desk, and a chair that were all sized to fit an adult. A miscellany of items strewn about documented a vague history of Hans: a plush tiger with its ears worn down sitting on the edge of the bed, an ornamental sword mounted on the wall, quills and pots of ink holding down a blank parchment on the desk.

"Take a seat," Hans offered. "I know it isn't much, but – "

"It will work," Mozenrath said as he settled himself on the edge of the bed, laying the basket on the floor. Hans turned the chair around to face him before sitting down in it. "So you obviously had a lot of reason to use this place."

"When I'm here, nothing else matters," Hans replied. "Not the fact that my family never loved me and never will. None of my responsibilities growing up royal. None of the problems I was expected to solve. None of the problems I wasn't expected to solve, but had to anyway if I wanted to get anywhere."

"You didn't know rules were made to be broken," Mozenrath observed.

"My life got SO much easier once I figured that out," Hans said with a sigh. "Honestly, before I learned that I was made for bucking what everyone else wanted from me and just going after what I wanted without trying to toe the line, I felt…just…worthless."

"I…know the feeling," Mozenrath admitted.

"You do?" Hans was surprised.

"Well, I never was one for rules," Mozenrath corrected. "I knew what I wanted and how to get it from a young age. But I know what it's like to feel that sense of worthlessness before coming into your own." He magically opened the basket, levitating out two fluted champagne glasses and a pitcher of perfectly ordinary milk. He didn't even have to ask; Hans grasped the glass meant for him eagerly, and Mozenrath doled out a drink for each.

"I just can't believe it," Hans said as he shook his head. "You ever feeling worthless, I mean. You just don't seem like the type. I can't imagine you ever being…well…not as confident as you are now." He knelt on the floor, reaching into the basket for the food that had been packed.

"There's really no need to do that manually," Mozenrath told him.

"I know," Hans said as he rose from the basket with two herring sandwiches in hand. "Call me old-fashioned."

Hans had made these sandwiches himself, as well as the apple tarts that lay at the bottom of the basket. It hadn't taken up much time at all. Mozenrath wasn't exactly sure how long they'd been dedicated to this venture, but no one had tried to angrily call or text him yet. Not that he would have paid attention if they did. Hans returned to his seat with sandwich in hand; Mozenrath took a curious bite out of his. It seemed Hans was determined to make an adventurous eater of him yet.

"So I know the basics," Hans brought up. "Broken family, runaway, abusive mentor. But what was that like? This is the first I've ever heard of you saying anything about feeling worthless."

"All you need to know is that I moved past that," Mozenrath insisted. He wasn't about to make the same mistake he'd made with the Huntsman. "It doesn't matter who I was. It only matters who I am."

"I brought you all the way out here to talk to you about yourself," Hans said coyly, "and you don't want to talk about yourself."

"Then why don't you tell me about you?" Mozenrath asked. "I'm gathering there was a rocky family situation."

"They hated me," Hans said casually in between bites of his sandwich. "They didn't make it a secret that they wished I was never born. You wouldn't know this, but having brothers is one of the worst curses in life."

That was right. Mozenrath had never mentioned that little fact. "I know that better than you think," he muttered.

"You…have a brother?" Hans said curiously.

"One who we're not ruining this discussion by bringing up." Mozenrath took a large bite of his sandwich to silence himself further.

"I don't know if I've told you this," Hans said after polishing off his own sandwich, "but it constantly amazes me. I know I'm good at what I do. Deception became my mode of operation, and it got me pretty far. If you hadn't come into my life, I would probably be ruling Hyrule by now. Well, okay, there would be that whole Twilight thing to worry about, but that got taken care of. But you…you operate on a whole other level. You are a MASTER of magic, and you're aiming to conquer EVERY WORLD AT ONCE. And everything you already did…I can't believe it. I just can't believe it." He shook his head. "See, I know compared to you, I'm just the guy who can't even get through a battle without his weapon breaking. I have to be good with my words, or I have nothing. The fact that you gave me the time of day at all is a miracle. One I'm glad for, because I tried pretty hard to get you to spare me back when we first met. But I just can't believe that someone like me is with someone like you. You're AMAZING."

"I know I am," Mozenrath replied, having finished his own sandwich during the time it took Hans to give that little speech. "First of all, you got my attention because you're a master at flattery. But you KEPT my attention because you're worthy of it."

"Really?" Hans asked, looking as though he seriously doubted it.

"Don't make me repeat myself," Mozenrath sighed. "If you haven't figured out your worth by now, I'm not going to spend half an hour trying to convince you."

"That's fair," Hans said with a shrug.

"That said," Mozenrath went on, "back at base, you used a certain word on me, and I'm still trying to figure out what you meant by it."

"What did I say?" Hans asked, looking quite perplexed.

"Oh, you know," Mozenrath replied teasingly. He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead; "That's what I love about you!"

"Is that your impression of me?" Hans chuckled. "All right. So you want to know what I meant when I dropped the L-word."

"Did you mean a specific attribute, or were you applying it to me in general?"

"The jig is up," Hans replied. "This…might seem crazy. I've only known you for so long, but I think I can say it pretty confidently. Mozenrath…I love you."

Mozenrath returned him an unsure stare as he searched for the words to say.

"You obviously don't love me," Hans stated casually. "That's fine. I expected that."

"You and I have a very valuable partnership," Mozenrath said, choosing his words carefully. "Partnerships, as it turns out, make people like us stronger. Love, on the other hand, is for idiots."

"Well, I'm an idiot," Hans said as he got up from the chair and moved to sit next to Mozenrath on the bed. "Before we go into this heist, I need you to know something. And I mean I really need you to take me seriously."

"I'm…listening," Mozenrath said tentatively, not knowing what was coming.

Hans placed his hands gently on Mozenrath's shoulders, fixing his gaze directly into Mozenrath's eyes. "You are the single most amazing person I have ever met. You're more intelligent than anyone I know. You have incredibly attractive confidence and enough power to really back that confidence up. Every day since I met you, I've been glad I did. And you need to know that."

The words were like a soft rain falling on a parched flower garden. Mozenrath was left stunned at such a heartfelt confession, unable to look away from Hans' soft green irises. At last, he mustered up the decision to play it cool. "You think I don't know all that?" he teased. "Now, about you – "

"I don't even need to know what you think about me," Hans interrupted, stopping Mozenrath's words with a kiss.

Their lips pressed gently at first, but the more Hans lingered, the more forcefully Mozenrath demanded him to keep up, repositioning his lips and biting those of Hans. Their tongues met, and Hans' hands moved down off Mozenrath's shoulders to find more secure resting places along his waist as Mozenrath grasped over and over at different parts of Hans.

It was when Mozenrath was overcome by the unprofessional urge to simply rip the front of Hans' clothing right off with his right hand alone that he instead gently pushed Hans back, giving him a knowing look. "I should have known there was an ulterior motive," he said softly. "You really weren't subtle by taking me to a place with a bed."

"Is this too fast for you?" Hans asked sincerely. "We don't have to go this far if you aren't ready."

"I'm more than ready," Mozenrath said with a definite overtone of hunger.

He was relieved, anyhow, that Hans hadn't asked how many times Mozenrath had taken a partner to bed, as the closest he'd come was the night he'd spent asleep next to the Huntsman in Fantastica, and there definitely hadn't been any business there beyond mere sleep while half-clothed. Even so, if Hans had known of Mozenrath's inexperience, Mozenrath knew it wouldn't have mattered to Hans. To Hans, Mozenrath was something utterly precious, untouchable, indomitable. And to Mozenrath, Hans was the words he never knew he wanted to hear, the touch he never knew he wanted to receive, the lens he never knew he wanted to be viewed through. Not untouchable. Not indomitable. But incredibly valuable.

Mozenrath's cape was the first thing to go as Hans lay back, pulling Mozenrath over top of him.

Discarded on the floor next to the champagne glasses, Mozenrath's scroll began to chirp with notifications. Mozenrath fired one last shot of magic at it to turn it off before the gauntlet found a place beside it.

...

When the skies of Radiant Garden blacked out, the castle contingent had taken turns assembling parties to patrol the town in shifts, taking out the larger of the invading Heartless. It was the best they could do to stem the tide.

If Rapunzel remembered correctly, the current team out on patrol consisted of Kairi, Ruby, Vida, Cadance, Jaune, and Ienzo. She wished them luck and safety on their rounds as she made her way to the lounge she shared with Eugene.

He was there, attention buried in an adventure novel as he sat on the couch where he usually slept. Rapunzel gently settled herself on her own couch, the one across from him, and waited a moment, heart pounding. Eugene looked up to see her, and she said softly, "We need to talk, don't we?"

Eugene folded the book closed, setting it aside. "You know," he told her, "I thought at first, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were avoiding me. Then I realized you probably were avoiding me. Which wasn't ideal, but you've been through a lot. So I figured you just needed to do your thing. If you want to talk, I'm ready to listen. But if you still need time to do your thing, that's okay too."

Hearing that right off the bat calmed Rapunzel's heart rate. "Thank you," she said. "I…I really am ready to talk now. I'm guessing you're not happy that I ran away to look for the Book of Prophecies without involving you."

"Would I have liked to be invited?" Eugene replied. "Yes. I actually wouldn't have tried to stop you. But am I mad? Not really. Maybe a little disappointed, but I wasn't there when…well. You know. It was something that was important to the eight of you, and I get that. Have you seriously been worried about me being upset by this?"

"Yes," Rapunzel said softly. "I thought I was trying to do the right thing, but there wasn't a single part of it I did right. Not talking to you was the first problem. And then…I should've known that tea was poisoned, I should've known we couldn't trust Mim, I should've known the book wouldn't solve our problems, and I should've – "

"Rapunzel," Eugene said firmly. "This was not your fault."

"Really?" Rapunzel countered, now with an edge in her voice. "Because I'm pretty sure if we hadn't gone looking for Mim, she wouldn't have figured out where the book was, Mozenrath wouldn't have gone after it, and Maleficent DEFINITELY wouldn't have it right now."

"Okay," Eugene amended. "So it was a little bit your fault. Or a lot your fault. But I know you wouldn't do something like that if you didn't SERIOUSLY believe it was the only way to fix things."

"People are dying and losing their hearts," Rapunzel lamented, "and I could've stopped it if I just…hadn't encouraged that stupid idea."

"Things are pretty bad," Eugene told her. "Not gonna lie. But they can get better. I mean, we already went through that whole nightmare thing. I didn't see any way we were getting out of that."

"But you were with Kairi and the others," Rapunzel recalled, or at least thought she did. More accurately, she had assumed it upon hearing the tale. "You were part of the movement to defeat Maleficent."

"Noooooot exactly," Eugene explained. "Maleficent picked out very specifically who she wanted in her old digs and scattered everyone else in the castle through town. Since she never really got the point that I wasn't from around here, I ended up on the other side of town all on my own. Woke up: EVERYTHING was black and white and falling apart. NO explanation."

The look on Rapunzel's face displayed her horror.

"I was ready for a challenge, of course," Eugene followed up. "I took on an army of giant lizard creatures all on my own! Didn't win. Ran for my life. Got away, though. The point is, I thought it was hopeless. That I was trapped all alone on a world where everything was going wrong all at once. Then, after they blew up the Shadow Blot and started looking for the refugees, they found me. And I realized something. These people don't know how to quit. As soon as they figured out what went wrong, they put together a team and headed out to make things right. They all care about each other, and they care about us, too." He stopped to remember the way Moana and Chip had run to him and hugged him when they'd finally found him. "So all we have to do is keep our heads up and stick together. Because no matter how hopeless things seem, we can find a way around it."

"How are we supposed to find a way around this?" Rapunzel asked.

"I don't know," Eugene told her, "but it's going to happen. The way I heard it, the nightmare literally wasn't supposed to end without the Book of Prophecies, and they found a way."

"What if we can't find a way?"

"If we can't find a way to fix it," Eugene insisted, "then we'll find a way to live with what's happening."

He could see she wasn't convinced. "I get it," he sighed. "I saw everyone pull through during a dark time, but you saw the worst thing happen on your own adventure, even though you tried your best. So here's what I'm going to tell you: you don't have to believe that things will get better. Just let me believe that for both of us. And I will do whatever I can to help you if you just say the word."

He transferred couches, sitting down next to Rapunzel and reaching for her hand. She grasped his tightly, shutting her eyes to prevent tears from falling.

A knock sounded on the lounge door. "Now is really not a good time," Eugene told whoever had knocked.

That person, who turned out to be Nora Valkyrie, threw the door wide open anyway. "Oh, good," she sighed. "I thought that answer meant you two were making out."

"No," Eugene told her, "but we're kiiiind of having a moment – "

"Well, this is important!" Nora insisted. "We're rounding up everybody in the library! We've done enough trying to hold back the Heartless here. We're taking down Maleficent at the source!"

Rapunzel's eyes snapped open. "How can we even begin to do that?"

"Well, okay, maybe we won't get Maleficent," Nora amended, "but we CAN stop her from using the book if we take it away from her! Everyone else is already downstairs talking about how we can ambush her and get it! So hurry up before you two get left behind!"

As Rapunzel and Eugene followed an excited Nora down to the library, the former asked the latter, "Do you believe THIS is going to work?"

"You know, I actually do," Eugene told her.

They walked into an already full library, where Ruby was explaining the results of some brief reconnaissance conducted by the Heartless-vanquishing party: "And it looks like the other castle is empty. We think they all went somewhere else."

"And we can easily figure out where if we ask the hourglass," Kairi insisted. She then turned to Nora, Eugene, and Rapunzel with a smile: "You're right on time. We were just getting to the good part."

Rapunzel felt just one tear escape; she did nothing to stop it trickling down her cheek. Summoning up a smile, she said, "Tell me what we need to do and I'll be ready."

...

Mozenrath woke slowly, his consciousness slipping back in before his eyes opened and his other senses registered. He hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep. His scroll was probably filled with angry notifications by now; he'd taken up far more time than he'd intended.

It had been worth it. He briefly recounted the events he remembered up to the point where he'd lost consciousness. Hans had given him the night of his life – it may have simply been because Mozenrath hadn't experienced sex before, but he couldn't have imagined it going any better. In the blissful and reflective moments that had followed, Hans had then retrieved the apple tart from the basket, feeding it to Mozenrath and allowing Mozenrath to lick every last bit off his fingers. Then, Mozenrath realized, was when he had become relaxed enough to simply lie back on the soft bed and pass out, Hans lying beside him, perhaps awake, perhaps falling asleep as well, but keeping his body company with warmth.

A warmth that was conspicuously absent now. In fact, Mozenrath was realizing, he was quite cold. Hans must have gotten up before him and taken away the blanket.

Though that wouldn't explain why the mattress had been replaced with a hard metal slab.

This was wrong.

Mozenrath's eyes snapped open; he had meant to jerk into a sitting position, but was uncomfortably informed the hard way that he was held fast to the metal table he lay on by a set of iron bands: one around each wrist, one around each ankle, one over his waist, and one over his neck. He was also aware that those bands were all that covered his body; otherwise, he was naked. Looking straight forward, which was the only way he could look given the position of the band on his neck, he gazed right up at a dark stone ceiling in what he perceived to be a dimly lit room.

Once he had woken, the table creaked, tilting upward and changing his view. His gaze slid past the corner where the ceiling met the wall, then further down as the table angled itself. Mozenrath was now positioned nearly vertically, with an eyeful of the last thing he wanted to see.

Maleficent stood before him. The look on her face was all too smug. The room in which they faced each other was small, its walls dark stone brick, the light coming from a pair of green-flamed torches affixed to the walls.

"I trust you slept well," Maleficent stated.

It was inconceivable. Furthermore, given the fact that Mozenrath was still completely nude, it was humiliating. Instinctively, he clutched his right fist. Having no scrap of clothing on included the gauntlet. And if he didn't know where that was, it was well and truly time to panic.

Maleficent reveled in watching the fear in Mozenrath's eyes. He'd been stricken silent by this dramatic turn of events. "No boastful quip?" she teased. "No witty remark to grace the situation?"

He desperately wanted one, but he had nothing. He wanted to know why; he needed to know how.

"At long last, the arrogant Mozenrath is within my clutches," Maleficent remarked. "Truly, this must be the part of the story where those who love him fight all odds to rescue him."

A figure stepped around the corner of the door to the tiny chamber, quickly taking his place beside Maleficent. "Oh, Mozenrath," Hans said, his face twisted into a smirk. "If only there was someone out there who loved you."

The words pierced like a spear to the heart. Instantly, Mozenrath knew how he had become Maleficent's prisoner, and with that revelation, he found his voice. "You," he growled. "You betrayed me."

He didn't want to believe it. Hans had lifted his heart to new heights. Hans had loved him. No, Hans had merely said he loved him. It had been an act. How much of it had been an act?

"This is really hilarious, when you think about it," Hans told him. "I can't tell you how many times I thought I gave the game away by accident."

"WHY?" Mozenrath roared at him. "WHY DID YOU TURN ME OVER TO HER? WHAT DID SHE PROMISE YOU?"

"Why did I – " Hans stopped himself midsentence. A soft laugh escaped him. Then he gave up trying to suppress it, doubling over with guffaws. "You think I turned traitor on you last-minute, don't you?" he finally managed.

"Obviously not," Mozenrath seethed, "now that I see THAT reaction. So when was it? When did she get to you?"

"I…I don't…I can't," Hans laughed, tears now forming in his eyes. "Maleficent…you tell him."

She had kept her composure perfectly. "Hans Westergaard has been one of my agents since I dispatched him to Hyrule," she explained calmly, though not without a broad smile. "He was never intended to wed Princess Zelda. He was intended to find you, intercept your plan, and infiltrate your ranks."

Mozenrath was once again struck with silence, pure horror and revulsion coursing through his entire being. He hadn't been betrayed. He had fallen for the enemy's trap, and furthermore, fallen for the enemy.

"Seducing you was easier than I thought it would be," Hans admitted as he finally got himself together and stood straight. "All I had to do was stroke your ego and pretend you were in on my game. I told you from the start I was a deceiver. But you never thought I would deceive a fellow conqueror, did you?"

Mozenrath was starting to realize the holes in Hans' story. Certainly this was some sort of trick or illusion, and Mozenrath was about to prove it. "Wuya read your mind," he insisted. "You didn't have a single thought about delivering me to Maleficent."

"Didn't I?" Hans countered. "What did Wuya keep saying about me? That my head was emptier than she thought? And did you REALLY think Maleficent didn't have a defense against TELEPATHY?"

"I do hope you did not rely on Wuya alone to seek out traitors," Maleficent punctuated. "I had no trouble developing a spell that would blanket half Hans' mind and allow him to keep the secrets he chose behind a wall no mind-reader could penetrate."

"Maleficent's forces tried to KILL YOU in Hyrule," Mozenrath went on. "You responded by chopping one of their arms off."

"About that," Hans explained. "See, that was basically my trial by fire. The others didn't think I could cut it, so we decided to kill two birds with one stone and have the four generals in Hyrule actually fight me. First of all, it would keep things convincing. Second, if I died to any of them, it would mean I wasn't worth the trouble in the first place. Of course, you could and would just bring me back, but it was basically agreed that if you had to resort to that, I was good as garbage. And if that had happened, well, then I might actually have joined you for real. As for Clayton, that was just a risk we had to run. If the fights were going to be real, they would be just as much at risk as I was. It was a test for them too. There was a reason Maleficent picked out expendables for the job instead of just assigning the big dogs. If we lost Cyclonis, McLeach, Clayton, or Mercury along the way, that would mean they just didn't make the cut."

"I have my bonds, just as you have yours," Maleficent clarified. "Yet the four I sent to battle Hans meant nothing to me. Ursula was more of a risk; I do hold her rather dear. Yet I knew there was nothing Hans could to do truly harm her. He would either survive her or fail."

Mozenrath had no more flaws to point out in the story. Instead, new revelations were washing over him. "Roman and Snatcher."

"I HATE them," Hans verified. "No, I mean I REALLY hate them. Especially Archibald." He struck an exaggerated pose and put on a thick, false Cockney accent: "Cheese, hats, Mista Westaaagaaaaard!" He then let the charade drop. "I would've tried to find a way to kill them and make it look like an accident if Maleficent hadn't warned me that was too high-risk of a move. But you said to make nice, so I made nice. Now, ROMAN was the one who managed to actually trigger his allergy and almost blow him up again. Some boyfriend he is."

"And for the final act," Mozenrath declared, "you lured me away from the base so I would be alone and defenseless."

"Which went even better than I thought," Hans informed him. "I really didn't think you'd have the guts to go all the way. I was expecting you to give me some excuse about how you weren't that easy. And are you ever EASY. Pretty good for your first time, though. I've had better, but it was a definite perk. And if you're wondering, I did drug that apple tart. We probably couldn't have brought you in that easily if you'd been awake. We could've definitely done it, but it would've been a hassle."

"You have done quite well, Hans," Maleficent congratulated. "Better than many of my more combat-oriented operatives. You have more than earned my respect. Furthermore, you have earned the reward I promised."

"I hope you don't mind," Hans told her as he withdrew a certain article of clothing from his pocket, "but I already had it on me. As fun as it's been so far, I'm REALLY looking forward to the look on his face when I do THIS."

Hans unfolded the slip to reveal it as Mozenrath's gauntlet. Slowly, with a wicked smile, Hans pulled it over his own right hand. As he'd expected, Mozenrath gaped, flabbergasted.

Once the gauntlet was in place, Hans turned his hand over, igniting a small blue flame in his palm. "So this is what ultimate power feels like," he remarked. "I think I like it."

"YOU DON'T KNOW HOW TO USE IT!" Mozenrath burst out. "IT WILL KILL YOU!"

"I really can't use it any more irresponsibly than you did," Hans told him. He then winced; "Ow! Does it ALWAYS hurt that much when you activate it?"

"Yes," Mozenrath said, for once finding a reason to smile. "Every single time. Enjoy it."

"Well, if a weakling like you can get used to it," Hans decided with a shrug that extinguished the flame, "then so can I."

"I…am not…weak," Mozenrath growled. "I am strong. I am powerful. I am smarter than you'll ever be."

"Where have I heard those words before?" Hans asked mockingly. "Oh, right! Those were all the things I said to you! You do realize by now I was lying, right? You believe those things about yourself because I talked them up to you. But they're wrong. You're not powerful. You're chained to a table. And you're not smart. You played right into my hands without me having to put any effort into it. You've always been the second-rate villain here. Actually, more like third-rate. This is just the first time you've actually had to come to grips with that."

A scuffle of feet rushed down the hallway, and all of a sudden, Demyx skidded into the doorway, looking at Mozenrath with intense panic. "MOZENRATH?" he cried. "No. Nonononono. This is bad."

Mozenrath didn't even care that he'd been discovered by the ally who irked him most. He only cared that he'd been discovered. "Demyx," he said breathlessly. "Get me out of here. NOW."

"Oh, man," Demyx babbled. "Okay. Just hang in there. I'm gonna go back to get the others. We're gonna – "

He cracked, unable to hold back the smile anymore. Now Demyx was the one laughing, leaning against the door frame for support. "Oh, man!" he chortled. "You should've seen the look on your face when you thought I was actually here to RESCUE you!"

"No," Mozenrath said hoarsely. "Not…you."

"Remember when I said I'd had better in bed?" Hans prompted. "I was referring to Demyx. The whole time I knew him, I might add. Which means, yes, while I was courting you."

"So Demyx was a mole the whole time, too," Mozenrath sighed. "I don't think you can surprise me anymore at this point."

"Actually, I wasn't in on it until Hans showed up," Demyx explained. "He and I kinda hit it off, so he let me in on the plan, and I thought it was a good idea." He gave Mozenrath a visual survey, up and down, eyes finally coming to rest on the area Mozenrath most hated having exposed in front of his enemies. "Wow. Seriously, Hans? THAT'S what you had to work with? That actually makes me feel a lot better."

"He wasn't bad," Hans clarified.

"Why YOU TWO?" Mozenrath spat. "What would someone like you even see in an idiot like HIM?"

"Dem and I have more in common than you might think," Hans explained. "I actually thought he would be easiest to manipulate, so after we got back from Hyrule, I met up with him for a little chat. I thought he'd let something slip that I could exploit as a weakness. But actually, once I earned his trust, he said something that made me realize he could help my plan."

"I told him I never wanted any part of your stupid WHAM ARMY," Demyx spat. "I was living a perfectly comfortable life until you kidnapped me, turned me into your designated healer, and started making me do hard work. I hated every single one of you from day one. You didn't even bother to learn my real name! You just kept calling me 'Demyx'!"

"All right," Mozenrath said desperately, hoping any act of sympathy would change Demyx's heart, "I want to know! What's your real name?"

"You don't get to know anymore," Demyx spat. "You wanted me to be Demyx? I'll be Demyx. And everything that goes with who I used to be when they called me that. Hans knows my real name, by the way, and he's the only one who gets to use it."

"He got exactly that angry when I got him alone from the crowd," Hans went on. "And then he told me what he really wanted to do the night you brought him back to the warship. The thing he knew he wasn't strong enough to do, so he didn't even try, because if it didn't work, he'd be dead in an instant."

Mozenrath looked directly at Demyx, his eyes asking the question.

"Drown you," Demyx seethed. "All at once. But I knew even I couldn't flood a kingdom-sized warship."

"That's when I offered Demyx the chance to come on board with me," Hans concluded. "I put in a good word with Maleficent, and she agreed to work him into my reward if I succeeded."

"I am a woman of my word," Maleficent asserted. "Demyx now has a place among my ranks, at your request. The two of you may entertain each other as much as you please. It is a rather poetic benefit that I now employ a former ward of Xehanort. Now, if that fool had any plans of reclaiming Demyx for his true Organization, they are dashed."

"You realize you made an empty trade," Mozenrath told Demyx. "She'll make you do harder work than I ever did."

"That was addressed in our arrangement," Maleficent clarified. "Demyx need only take the assignments he wishes. So long as he does not actively betray me, he is not required to do any task for my forces whatsoever. He is here as Hans' reward. If he so wishes, he may never leave his chambers, and his every comfort will be attended to."

"Now, THOSE are the words I wanna hear," Demyx said with a grin.

Mozenrath clenched his teeth. He knew he couldn't escape this situation on his own merit. Hans had lured him into a downfall using nothing but pretty words. Still, if he thought this would hold him permanently, he was sorely mistaken. "You forgot about one crucial thing," Mozenrath declared.

"What did I forget?" Hans asked smugly, already suspecting the accusation and having the answer ready.

"THE ENTIRE REST OF THE WHAM ARMY," Mozenrath growled. "They'll break down your door and fight all of your forces to get to me."

Instead of immediately countering, Maleficent asked, "Why, Mozenrath, do you know where you are?"

"Do you think I'm an idiot?" Mozenrath growled. "This is the Villain's Vale."

"That husk of a fortress sits abandoned at the outskirts of Radiant Garden," Maleficent corrected. "This is a new world: the Forbidden World. I created it with the Book of Prophecies to house my forces. The only people who are aware of its existence are those whom I have informed, such as yourself. Your underlings are not so fortunate."

Mozenrath was certain now that Maleficent, Hans, and Demyx were all too entertained by his reactions to each piece of news. There was no way he could hide the terror he felt upon hearing that no one knew where he could be.

"Furthermore," Maleficent went on, "I have big plans for your alliance. Your capture was merely the first phase. Your alliance will be brought down not by the turn of fate, but by a method much crueler and more entertaining. You may take comfort in knowing that you have earned such a punishment. I would not take such measures on someone insignificant."

"What you've probably realized by now is that I didn't just seduce you to have a roll in the hay and then turn you over to the boss," Hans stated. "I was also learning. You were just so eager to brag about your adventures and tell me every last detail. I almost thought there wasn't going to be anything useful, but then you mentioned something you probably thought wasn't even important. Something that saves us a lot of work. And you're going to regret that."

"You're totally going to be the reason all your friends get destroyed," Demyx giggled.

"No," Mozenrath whispered. Then, more forcefully: "NO! I…WON'T…BE DEFEATED LIKE THIS! IT DOESN'T END THIS WAY!" He squirmed, but his bonds held tight.

"Yes, it does," Hans said calmly. "The sooner you accept that, the sooner we can all move on with our lives. We won. You lost."

...

Deep within the basement council room, Yzma tapped a fingernail impatiently on the side of her scroll. "He's been gone for an hour!" she growled.

Wuya, Mim, Aghoul, Roman, Snatcher, and the Huntsman surrounded her, perturbed by the lack of Mozenrath in the room. "We've been WAITING an hour," Snatcher corrected. "That hasn't factored in the time we spent making arrangements. Lord Mozenrath has technically been missing far longer than an hour."

"WHAT is so important that he is ignoring our every attempt to reach him?" Yzma seethed.

"He better not be having a tryst with his boyfriend," Wuya growled.

"I'll bet you anything that's exactly what happened," Aghoul theorized. "Hans whisked him off to some private lovers' nest, and they're too wrapped up in each other – literally – to notice anything else."

"What do you say we spoil his fun?" Mim asked.

"I'm listening," Wuya told her.

"We sneak up on wherever he's hiding," Mim explained, "and then we break down the door and remind him there's work to be done, no matter what position he's in!"

"You realize that would humiliate and anger him depending on what we caught him doing," Yzma replied. Then: "I'm in."

"How are we even going to find him?" Aghoul asked. "Are we going to search the entire warship room by room?"

"I've got a better idea," Mim said wickedly.

As they filtered out of the room to follow Mim, Roman asked, "Does anyone else have an actual BAD feeling about this?"

"This is most unlike Lord Mozenrath," Snatcher agreed. "I should hardly think a lovers' dalliance would keep him away from his work, especially when the stakes are high as they are."

"But he's gone," Roman reiterated, "and Sideburns is involved."

"Suspected to be involved," the Huntsman corrected. "All the same, I don't like it either. It doesn't ring true."

"You realize all three of you are incredibly biased against Hans," Wuya reminded them.

"I'm just wondering if he really learned the lesson we thought he did back in Vardaros," Roman said with suspicion.

"I wonder many things about him," the Huntsman added cryptically.

It took Mim only a moment to whip up a locator spell. Aghoul retrieved a single crystal from Mozenrath's apartment, previously used to power up one of his lamps. The crystal was immersed in the potion; it then took off down the halls.

The seven raced after it only to chase it out the door to a balcony and watch it disappear into the void of interspace.

"Wha – " Yzma sputtered.

"I like this even less," the Huntsman stated.

"Yeah, something's up," Roman agreed.

"All we know is that Mozenrath isn't anywhere in the base anymore," Wuya stated. "That could mean any number of things."

"First of all, it means we have to make another locator spell and be ready to follow it out," Aghoul grumbled.

"Or we could do this the easy way," Wuya countered.

The seven arranged around Yzma's laboratory table, where the compass and its globe were positioned at center. Vexen had been working nearby, and upon hearing the others' hubbub, he couldn't help but insert himself into the scene.

"Mozenrath is missing, I take it," he stated.

"Not for long," Wuya replied.

"He's somewhere away from the base," Yzma explained, "and we're going to pin down the EXACT world where he's hiding."

"Or being hidden," the Huntsman added.

"Show us Mozenrath," Aghoul bade the compass.

The view within the globe shifted, focusing in on a shining world.

"Well?" Yzma asked, turning to Vexen. "Where is it?"

"I…I don't know," Vexen admitted. "And I don't understand. I recognize these coordinates. The arrangement of the worlds is wrong. There is one where there shouldn't be one, and it is the exact world you have pinpointed as Mozenrath's location. He is, by all accounts, on a world that should not exist."

"We may now safely say something has gone wrong," the Huntsman stated.

"What EXACTLY went wrong here?" Yzma asked, perplexed. "Did Mozenrath just…summon an entire world from nowhere? So he could be alone with his boyfriend?"

"I'm not sure this has anything to do with Hans anymore," Wuya countered.

"Actually," Roman broke in, "now, I'm SURE it has something to do with Sideburns."

"Well, I think it has something to do with Maleficent," Mim argued. "She has that book! She could summon a world from nowhere if she wanted!"

"Let's test that theory," Wuya said as she tapped on the globe twice. "Show us Maleficent."

The view remained unchanged. The sentiment among the observers, however, did not.

"That's not good," Roman commented.

"The obvious conclusion seems to be that Mozenrath is now in Maleficent's possession," Vexen stated. "There is of course the possibility that he is conversing with her in a civil manner, perhaps betraying our secrets to her – "

"Mozenrath would not do such a thing," the Huntsman interrupted, "and we all know it."

"There is also the matter of coincidence," Vexen theorized. "Perhaps they ended up on the same world by chance."

"Oh, definitely," Yzma groaned. "Maleficent conjured an entire world from nowhere, and Mozenrath just HAPPENED to end up there."

"Then there is the possibility that he is conducting reconnaissance," Vexen went on. "Before you interrupt: yes, yes, on a world he knew nothing about, and without contacting any of us in the process. We can rule out that possibility as well. What we are left with is an abduction by Maleficent. She must have rooted out our plans for ambush and decided to put a stop to them."

"So she just walked into our base," Wuya said with a layer of sarcasm, "and picked up our commander without anyone noticing."

"The time has come to refer to the factor we have been ignoring," Snatcher announced. "Show us…MISTER Westergaard."

The view, again, remained unchanged.

"Maybe it's broken," Yzma suggested.

"Show us these, in this order," the Huntsman told the compass. "Yzma's first laboratory. The Vault of the Huntsclan. A Keyblade. A sky shark. Mozenrath. Maleficent. Hans Westergaard."

The view shifted accordingly, and Vexen was able to identify each set of coordinates before it shifted: the Empire of the Sun. The world the Huntsman called home. Radiant Garden. Atmos.

The mysterious, unidentified world. And there it stayed.

"It is not broken," the Huntsman stated. "Mozenrath and Hans are together on the same world as Maleficent."

"She kidnapped both of them!" Aghoul cried.

"Now, hang on," Roman broke in. "When I was rounding people up, there was one I couldn't find. And that didn't surprise me, because of COURSE he'd make himself hard to find if he knew we were planning something that involved danger and hard work, but now that all this is lining up? Why don't you show me where – " He paused, not wanting the compass to point to any sinks filled with actual dishwater. "Demyx is?"

The globe did not move.

"Imagine that," Roman growled. "Sideburns and Dishwater have been all buddy-buddy for the past several days. Now THEY'RE together. If you think Righty allowed Dishwater anywhere NEAR him while he was trying to get some alone time with Sideburns, you need a serious reality check."

"If I'm to understand the theory you are proposing," Snatcher said, "Mr. Demyx and Mr. Westergaard have been in cahoots from the beginning, and only now finished hatching a plot weeks in the making to deliver Lord Mozenrath to Miss Maleficent."

"That is EXACTLY what I am saying," Roman confirmed.

"And it is what I fear has come to pass," the Huntsman stated.

"It would most logically explain why all four of those entities can be found on the same unidentified world," Vexen agreed. "Furthermore, if Mozenrath WERE here, a crucial element of our plan would have been recently changed. We drew up our plans with an ambush of Villain's Vale in mind. We may instead be dealing with a far more complex base of operations." He turned away from the group. "If that is the case, I must investigate it at once. Ravess will wish to accompany me, no doubt. We shall depart for this mysterious world shortly in order to conduct a covert mission with the purpose of gathering information and only of gathering information. Should we fail to return after an hour, you may presume us both captured and proceed without us."

Without waiting for anyone to approve, he stalked away.

"So NOW what?" Roman asked. "We are down one strategist AND one necromancer at the same time. And I guess two assholes are gone too."

"We were relying on Mozenrath to lead us," the Huntsman confirmed. "Without his guidance…"

"Not to mention his gung-ho attitude," Aghoul chipped in.

"You're not thinking of giving up!" Yzma accused.

"Of course we are not," the Huntsman told her. "If anything, the ambush has become all the more imperative and must be executed with haste. We now have something infinitely more valuable to recover than the Dragon's Eye. This has become a mission to rescue our friend and leader."

"Too bad we are SERIOUSLY underpowered," Roman lamented.

"And lacking an entrance strategy," Snatcher added.

"We could always break down the front door," Mim suggested. "Do it the old-fashioned way."

"And then what?" Roman asked. "Get killed instantly? Unless everyone here suddenly develops superpowers, I don't think this invasion is going to go the way we wanted it to!"

"You know," Wuya realized, "that's a good point."

"That we're going to get trampled to death?" Roman questioned.

"No," Wuya replied. "That we could stand a better chance if we had new and improved powers. Perhaps in such a manner that could be granted by a collection of magical artifacts."

"WHERE are we going to get a collection of fucking magical artifacts on short notice?" Roman practically yelled.

"I know exactly the place," Wuya assured him. "We really should have tapped into it earlier, come to think of it. While we're there, we might as well make up the ground in other areas. We lost two soldiers to Maleficent's side. I think I know exactly who can fill the bill."

"Well, stop being vague and take us there!" Yzma asserted. "We don't have any time left to lose!"

Wuya smirked. "Welcome to my world," she said cryptically.

...

In the spacious basement of a manor positioned in the rural fields of China, a teenage boy screwed a bronze-colored panel onto the back of a stubby robot that consisted of a simple body with a head and hidden guns. Despite the location of his home, this boy was of Caucasian heritage, as betrayed by his pallor and rose-red hair; his family had moved to the enormous nation for business purposes. Most of what he had learned about science and robotics, he had taught himself, and in that regard, he was nothing short of a prodigy; the room was filled with mechanical projects he had either created or abandoned halfway through the process of manufacturing.

Anything else important to know about him, you could learn by hiding in his workspace while he thought he was alone, as he had a tendency to self-narrate.

"And with that, evil boy genius Jack Spicer completes his thousandth Jack-Bot!" he declared, lifting his goggles up to rest on his forehead. "I now have an unstoppable army! Who even needs Hannibal Roy Bean, Chase Young, or Wuya anyway? Especially Wuya." He put on a high, raspy voice. "Don't do this, Jack Spicer! Don't do that, Jack Spicer! You're an idiot, Jack Spicer! Stop making fun of me, Jack Spicer! My voice doesn't sound like that, Jack Spicer!" He went back to his default range. "Well, I'm my own man now, and that's how it's gonna stay from now on! I'd like to see Wuya even try and win me back! She could walk right up to me in the middle of the street, and I'd tell her, right to her face – "

He turned around.

There, at the heart of his laboratory, stood Wuya, along with a host of strangers.

Jack Spicer completed his sentence with a long, high-pitched scream.

The WHAM ARMY representatives who had come along for the ride waited it out. When Jack finally ceased screaming, he yelped, "DON'T…SNEAK UP ON ME…LIKE THAT!"

"But it's hilarious," Wuya countered.

"Okay, let's cut to the chase," Jack sighed. "Who are they, what do you want, and no."

"No?"

"I want to know what you want," Jack clarified, "but no matter what it is, the answer is NO."

"First of all," Wuya introduced, "these are the fellow villains I have associated with in place of the Heylin." She gestured to the squad behind her. "Meet Yzma, Mad Madam Mim, Ayam Aghoul, the Huntsman, Archibald Snatcher, Roman Torchwick, and – "

"Okay, wait a minute," Jack interrupted. "I just heard you say you work with someone named I Am a Ghoul. That's not a real name."

Snatcher let out a sigh of relief; for once, it hadn't been he who –

"And was that other guy's last name SNATCHER? Because that's not real either."

So much for that.

"Making fun of my friends, are we?" Wuya asked, holding her hands out to either side, palms upward. "That's a bad idea." Both hands ignited with green flames.

Jack let out another scream before screeching, "I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! DON'T HURT ME! ESPECIALLY NOT IN THE FACE! I HAVE SENSITIVE SKIN THERE!"

"I remember," Wuya said as she rolled her eyes and doused the flames. "You only mentioned it three hundred times."

"THIS was seriously your partner?" Yzma asked in disbelief.

"Yours was Kronk," Wuya reminded her. "You can't talk."

"Kronk might have been stupid," Yzma argued, "but he wasn't…that." She gestured to Jack, who was now hiding behind the Jack-Bot and quivering.

"I know," Wuya sighed, "but he's easy to order around and he actually has a gift when it comes to robots."

"Heyyyyy!" Jack whined, stepping back out from behind his protective robot. "I'm not so easy to order around anymore! I already told you that whatever you want, the answer is no!"

"What I want," Wuya clarified, "is to recruit you into a villainous organization bent on conquest of all worlds."

Jack blinked. "Okay, now I know you're lying, because every word in that sentence was something I liked, and that NEVER comes from you."

"I am unfortunately being very sincere," Wuya sighed. "We are planning an ambush upon a larger and more powerful evil organization, and we need all the help we can get. You've served me well enough in the past. You can do it again."

"Waiiiiit a minute," Jack realized. "Are you the ones who knocked out the lights?"

"No," Wuya informed him. "The organization we're ATTACKING is the ones who knocked out the lights."

Jack gulped audibly. "I, uh…I suddenly don't feel so good about your plan."

"Listen," Wuya said sternly. "I am being very serious about this, and I'm only going to offer once. Join us, and if we win, you get everything you ever wanted. World domination. Evil schemes. A new laboratory. Karaoke every night. We recently allowed ice cream sundaes back in the base as long as you don't use them as weapons. The respect of – well, okay, probably not the respect of our leader. Or me. But odds are SOMEONE will like you. Probably Herb."

"Wait a minute," Jack realized. "I didn't think you wanted me back in the first place. Did you miss me?"

"No."

"I think you missed me."

"Well, you think wrong, because I didn't."

"I left a big hole in your heart that none of your new pals could fill," Jack accused.

"I routinely forgot you existed," Wuya argued.

"Look, this sounds great and all," Jack told her, "but I'm not signing up for some big dangerous ambush."

"I thought you'd dig in your heels," Wuya admitted. "That's why I brought someone along you might find more relatable."

She stepped aside, revealing the person who had stood at the back of the crowd, blocked from Jack's view by the others. Irmaplotz had been invited along for this very purpose. "You're a teenager," Wuya told her. "He's a teenager. Go be relatable."

Irmaplotz wasn't sure exactly how to accomplish that, so she started by saying, "Hi."

Jack was struck speechless. She was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen in his life. She put Kimiko and Katnappé to shame for certain. "Uh…" What was the word? He had completely forgotten the word he was supposed to say. That word you said when someone said "hi" to you. How could he forget something as simple as that? Because of this gorgeous girl, of course. Thankfully, he remembered the appropriate word before it got too awkward: "Hi."

She could practically see his eyes forming into little red hearts. She bit back a little giggle; not at his expense, but because he was pretty cute. She was already a little in love with his voice; sure, he might have used it mostly for screaming, but it had a pleasant tone to it that was warmly familiar. Now that she was getting a very good look at him, she was noticing the way his heavy black eyeliner matched his fashionably ripped black coat. Her own heart was pounding. It was obvious Jack was smitten with Irmaplotz; she hoped she was hiding her own attraction better than he was. "So here's the thing," she explained. "These people are the real deal. We only work with SERIOUS villains."

"I'm as evil as they come!" Jack squealed. He cleared his throat, saying in a lower tone of voice, "Subjugating people and taking power is how I roll."

"Good," Irmaplotz told him. "Because I don't waste time on heroes."

"Neither do I," Jack replied.

"Okay, this is going to kinda come out of nowhere," Irmaplotz said suddenly, "but do you like bad poetry?"

"You know, it's weird," Jack replied. "I never really tried getting into poetry. I'll take recommendations."

"I have recommendations."

"Awesome! How do you feel about robots?"

"I'm still getting used to the concept of electricity," Irmaplotz confessed. "Robots are kind of like magic to me. Even though they're apparently the polar opposite of magic. Whatever. Isn't magic technically a blanket term for unexplained phenomena? Don't let the boss know I said that. He gets picky about magic. Anyway, robots are fascinating. You make robots, don't you?"

"You bet I do!" Jack nodded fervently.

"Maybe you could…" Irmaplotz put effort into sounding sultry. "Show me how they work sometime."

"Only if you read me some bad poetry," Jack countered.

"Deal?"

"Deal."

"So you're in."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm in," Jack relented. "What do I have to lose anyway? If you're going to attack an enemy base, I am DEFINITELY going to attack an enemy base."

Then, at the same time, they said, "One more thing I need to know."

"You first," Jack encouraged.

"Feelings on macramé owls?" Irmaplotz asked.

"I've always wanted to try macramé!" Jack said excitedly. "Though I thought I'd make something eviler first. Like a skull or a giant spider. But owls are cool! Okay, my turn: what's your name?"

"Irmaplotz," she answered. "Evil Princess Irmaplotz."

That didn't sound like a real name either and at this point, Jack was past caring. He gave Wuya a nod. "I'll do your little ambush. But only if I get to bring the Jack-Bots!"

"What just happened?" Yzma whispered to Wuya.

"Don't question it," Wuya whispered back.

"Please tell me the rest of your old pals are more impressive than a whiny kid," Roman groaned as he turned to lead the pack up out of the basement.

"Trust me," Wuya told him, "it only goes up from here."

"Hang on," Jack said suddenly. "My parents – "

"Have bigger things to worry about right now," Wuya informed him.

"What did you do to them?" Jack asked, not so much horrified as he was likened to asking a dog where it had done its business inside the house.

"Rest assured," the Huntsman stated, "they are both alive."

"Alive and hopping," Mim confirmed.

"I daresay they're much better listeners now," Aghoul said as they exited the house.

"And we probably improved their sex life," Roman added.

The sudden bolting of a pair of rabbits from the outdoor shrubbery was more than suspiciously timed.

"They were this close to cutting off my scheming anyway," Jack said with a shrug. "There are definite benefits to this. So who are we picking up next? Ooh! I know! Cyclops and Chameleon-Bot!"

"No and no," Wuya replied sternly.

"But…but they actually listen to me," Jack pouted.

"I know," Wuya responded. "That's exactly why we're leaving them out of the equation. As for who we ARE recruiting…"

...

In an abandoned warehouse on city limits, a slender blonde woman clad in a skin-tight black suit with cat ears fashioned on the hood was seated across from an immense, rotund man in black ninja garb. On the table between them, a Go board was spread out. The woman moved her piece with a sigh.

"It sure has been boooooring since the Xiaolin Warriors took all the Shen Gong Wu," Ashley – better known as Katnappé – sighed. "I swear I'm going to just die if nobody comes along with a job for us."

"Then stop complaining and go for them yourself," Tubbimura responded as he moved his own piece.

"And take all four of them and their dragon on my own?" Katnappé whined. "That would be hard on an ORDINARY day. Now there are all those monsters in the streets."

"I have resolved not to let them stop me," Tubbimura insisted.

"Stop you from doing what?" Katnappé asked. "Have you even DONE anything since the Heylin broke up?"

"I've done…things!" Tubbimura grunted. "Lots of things!"

"Name one."

"I…you…they're secret things!"

A knock came on the warehouse door.

"No one should know we are here," Tubbimura said with suspicion.

"Just stay quiet," Katnappé whispered. "They'll go away."

The large metal door was blown inward, shrapnel barely missing the pair of Heylin Warriors. Wuya, flanked by her entourage, strolled inside.

"WUYA!" Tubbimura and Katnappé cried at once.

"How would you two like a job?" Wuya asked. "It comes with benefits."

...

With now three of the old Heylin alliance gracing her faction, Wuya led the expedition to a mountainous fortress carved in the shape of a predatory head, the gaping maw serving as the entry. A great stone wall blocked passage within.

Yzma knew a secret door when she saw it. That did not, of course, mean she knew how to open one when she saw it. She set to work running her hands across the wall, searching for a hidden switch of some sort, her work illuminated by the spheres of green light Wuya had conjured to follow the WHAM ARMY contingent around.

"I'd be careful," Wuya warned.

"There's actually a trick to that," Jack announced as he took his place beside Yzma. "You're gonna wanna stand off to the left." The last time he had tried this, he had learned that standing to the right of the door was painful. The time before that, he had been shown the error of standing directly in front of it.

Yzma took several great paces to the left. Then, managing not to see a parallel that would have served as foreshadowing, she demanded, "Open the door, Jack!"

Jack pressed the hidden switch in the wall, then dashed to the left.

Subverting the other times it had been opened, the door slammed itself directly to the left, sandwiching Jack and Yzma between itself and the wall.

Wuya wrenched the door away in a panic, looking to the shaken Yzma. "Tell me you're okay," she said worriedly.

"Why…me?" Yzma said weakly as she peeled off the wall and regained her composure. "Why does this ALWAYS happen to ME?"

Wuya patted her shoulder comfortingly. "This is why you have me around." She planted a brief peck on Yzma's cheek.

"You have a GIRLFRIEND?" Jack squeaked.

"Is there a problem with that?" Wuya asked, her arm now linked with Yzma's.

"I'm just surprised anybody could actually put up with you long enough to DATE you," Jack quipped.

"I could say the same about you," Wuya shot back, "but really, I'm just questioning Irmaplotz's judgment at this point."

"Hey!" Irmaplotz snapped.

"Trust me, honey," Wuya told her, "once you get to know him, you're not going to be so enamored."

"Just focus on the mission!" Tubbimura snapped.

"You are direct," the Huntsman told him. "I approve of that."

"All right, we'll go," Wuya resolved. "I just hope he's in an agreeable mood." As she moved toward the now open door, she kept her arm linked in Yzma's, and Yzma walked along with her as though they were escorting each other to a grand ball.

Rather than a dancefloor, however, the landscape beyond consisted of an ornate building that rose from the rocky floor. The man they'd come to visit, bearing long ebony hair and eyes almost reptilian in appearance, was on his way out of the entrance to his inner lair so he could greet his guests. "Wuya," he said with an enigmatic smile. "I can honestly say this is a surprise. I didn't expect to see you around here again."

"Chase Young," Wuya replied. "I didn't expect to come back."

"I am receiving your message loud and clear," Chase stated as he visually surveyed Yzma. "You're here for business, not pleasure."

"You and he had a thing, didn't you?" Yzma asked dryly.

"Regretfully," Wuya replied.

"I am not one to judge," Chase stated. "Though the last impression you left on me was less than favorable. Have you come to finish the job you and Hannibal started?"

"On the contrary," Wuya told him. "I've come to offer you employment."

"You mean you've come to beg for my help," Chase corrected.

"No," Wuya said firmly. "I am offering you a position. You would be a beneficial asset to us. I would admittedly rather have you on our side than not. But if you refuse, you can be easily replaced."

That directly contradicted what Wuya had said about how essential Chase's help would be to the WHAM ARMY on the journey over to the fortress, and all present were aware of it. But they knew how the game was played.

Roman, however, had his mind on a different aspect of the situation. He leaned over to Snatcher's ear, whispering, "Does that guy's voice sound familiar to you?"

"I do have the sense I've heard him speak before," Snatcher admitted, "but I can't see how. This is the first we're seeing of him. Perhaps it is déjà vu."

"BOTH of us?"

"I've no other explanation."

Snatcher and Roman then fell into contemplation, wondering why, exactly, Chase Young sounded so familiar.

"This is the WHAM ARMY," Wuya explained. "Or, at least, part of it. We are a league of conquerors. Of criminals. Most recently, of godslayers. Our leader was abducted by the forces responsible for drowning out the sun and moon and flooding the worlds with Heartless."

"The worlds," Chase repeated, tilting his head interestedly and smirking. "Plural. I had always suspected."

"You have no idea," Wuya told him. "Though if you throw your lot in with us, you can find out."

"You want me to help you recover your lost leader," Chase stated.

"You're sharp."

"And if I refuse? You said I would be easily replaced. But what would become of me?"

"Now, that is where things become interesting," Wuya told Chase. "I could leave you be. We could continue our lives, never having to cross paths with one another. I certainly have no reason to bother you. The Huntsman, on the other hand, has a fixation with ridding the worlds of dragons. I may or may not have let slip what you REALLY are on the journey here…"

The Huntsman drew his staff to punctuate the point. Chase flinched, backing up a step.

"I am willing to overlook your nature for the sake of this alliance," the Huntsman stated. "The one we are trying to rescue is valuable to me. His life is worth yours. Save his in order to spare yours. Ignore us, and I will have more than one reason to strike you down where you stand."

"I have no reason to fear you," Chase said with renewed bravado. "You couldn't lay a finger on me."

"Are you asking for a fight?" Mim asked excitedly. "Because I've gone far too long without destroying anything, and you look like a good place to start with that smug face of yours!"

"It's eleven to one," Wuya reminded Chase.

"Is it?" Chase looked meaningfully to Jack.

"Hey, I'm DONE with you treating me like trash!" Jack insisted. "I get the picture! You think I'm disposable!"

"It took you long enough," Chase muttered.

"Wait," Irmaplotz broke in. "Did YOU and him have a thing?"

"I wish," Jack sighed.

"Spare me the thought," Chase said coldly.

"So, uh…" Irmaplotz wasn't sure how to phrase the pressing question. "Are you…you know…do you just…"

"Both!" Jack said hurriedly, not wanting to lose the flirtatious relationship he and Irmaplotz were cultivating. "I like both."

"Okay," Irmaplotz said in relief. "Good. Not that there would have been anything WRONG with…well…I just thought we…"

"We do!" Jack assured her. "Or we could. Or we…how were you going to finish that sentence?"

"I don't actually know."

"Can we get back to the point?" Wuya sighed.

Chase's eyes were now on Katnappé and Tubbimura. "And you?"

"Sorry, Chase," Katnappé said in a syrupy tone. "Wuya's already promised us a share of an ultimate conquest and neverending fun if we side with her."

"You just think we're jokes!" Tubbimura added.

"But we can overlook that if you play nice with Wuya," Katnappé purred.

"I see I have no option," Chase resolved, calmly smiling. "Very well. I will join your league. I had better see returns, however."

"You will," Wuya promised him. "Trust me. This is the first day of the rest of your life." She tugged at Yzma's arm. "Let's go."

Chase joined the crowd as they exited the cavern mouth. "I suppose next, you aim to recruit Hannibal," he commented.

"Is that going to be a problem?" Wuya asked, her back turned to him. In fact, Chase was walking at the rear of the crowd; everyone's back was turned to him.

"Not at all," Chase said smugly. "I am quite interested to become more familiar with these new allies of yours. They may not look like much, but appearances can be deceiving."

"Indeed they can, Mr. Lynns," Snatcher said without thinking, hearing the voice alone. "In fact, they…"

He realized what he'd just said.

"THAT'S where I've heard it before!" Roman cried triumphantly.

"The similarity is uncanny," Snatcher said with a mild shudder.

...

The bird known as Ying-Ying soared over the plains, its tiny passenger observing all he could from atop the avian's back. As far as the eye could see, the void extended. Whoever had summoned up this darkness had outdone the Heylin Eclipse by miles, and that wasn't something the small man would take lying down.

At the same time that the bird winged its way home, Wuya led her coterie to the base of a tree. "This will be the last of the Heylin we recruit to our cause," she explained. "Hannibal Roy Bean is one of the most powerful and feared warriors in the history of this world. When I was growing up, I was raised to respect his name. He is perhaps the most important to win to our side due to his skills not only on the battlefield, but in manipulation."

Ying-Ying came to rest on the nest right on schedule. Wuya rapped on the tree trunk, signaling her arrival.

A tiny shape appeared at the edge of the bird's nest, his tiny eyes traveling down to rest on his visitor. "Wuya!" he declared. "Well, ain't this a nice surprise!"

Roman was gobsmacked. "Literally. A. Bean." That was exactly what he was looking at: an oblong brown bean with a face and arms.

"What did you expect?" Yzma asked him. "Right from the beginning, we have been working with a ghoul named 'AYAM AGHOUL.'"

"No one's managed to top that one yet," Aghoul said proudly.

"We've been wonderin' where you went all this time," Hannibal said in a pleasantly casual tone.

Wuya raised a brow. "We?"

"Well, I think I speak for all of us," Hannibal clarified. "Ain't that right, Chase? Jack? Tubbimura? Katnappé?"

Chase fixed Hannibal with a deadly sidelong glare, his own brow arching.

"Still unwillin' to let bygones be bygones," Hannibal accused him.

"You would've eliminated me, had you the chance," Chase replied.

"That's just the name of the game," Hannibal told him. "You were tryin' to get to me first. I don't hold that against ya one bit."

"The two of you are going to have to bury the hatchet," Wuya insisted. "There are more important things to worry about."

"This got somethin' to do with the sudden lack of natural light?" Hannibal asked. "Or somethin' to do with those new Heylin you've been recruitin'?"

"They aren't Heylin," Wuya informed him. "We have formed a different organization. The WHAM ARMY."

"Your group's name is the WHAM ARMY?" Jack began to snicker. "That's a stupid name!"

"IT'S AN ACRONYM, AND I WORKED HARD ON IT!" Roman bellowed.

"An acronym that is missing an M," Wuya clarified. "Our leader has been taken hostage by the one responsible for the blackout."

"So you got a beef with 'em too," Hannibal stated. "I ain't been too happy, what with the way they showed us Heylin up. If you know who's responsible, then that's a load off my mind and a bullet on my to-do list."

"For us, they're the entire list," Wuya stated. "Well, all right, we still have our multi-world domination scheme on the back burner. But when they took Mozenrath, they made it war."

"A war we were admittedly going to fight anyway," Mim admitted.

"They just threw the first punch instead of us," Aghoul clarified.

"I can see where this is goin' a mile off," Hannibal realized. "You need help to get this Mozenrath fella back where he belongs. That's where I come in, ain't it?"

"I'm making a strategic merger," Wuya told him. "The Heylin become a subfaction of the WHAM ARMY. I already have most of them on board."

"Not the ones who actually listen to me," Jack muttered.

"Once we join forces, we will become undefeatable," Wuya went on. "Or…at least…harder to defeat. Together, we will reclaim Mozenrath, secure a magical artifact that belongs to the common enemy we're referring to, put a dent in their forces, and overtake all worlds in existence."

"Just a dent, huh," Hannibal picked up on. "I was hopin' for elimination."

"So do we," Aghoul huffed. "Every day."

"Join forces with us and reap the rewards," Wuya said to entice Hannibal. "Anything and everything you could want."

"Aw, come on, Wuya, you know I'm fond of ya," Hannibal stated. "You don't have to promise me all that fancy stuff to get me on board."

"You and HIM?" Yzma asked in disbelief.

"I have a bit of a past," Wuya teased.

Yzma shrugged. "So do I. We're even."

"He is a BEAN!" Roman yelled. "How would you two even – no. Don't answer that question. I really don't need or want to know."

"There was a little bit of shapeshiftin' involved," Hannibal said coyly.

"Okay, did I say 'Go ahead and answer that question'?" Roman replied, exasperated. "No. I did not. I told you NOT to answer that question. Now I'm imagining things I didn't plan on imagining today."

"You think you have it bad?" Jack squeaked. "I think I'm scarred for life."

Irmaplotz gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

"Though I see you've landed yourself a prize," Hannibal observed, having correctly read the exchange between Yzma and Wuya.

Wuya wrapped an arm around Yzma's waist, drawing her close and igniting a blush in her cheeks. "Nothing more precious," she said, leaning her head on Yzma's shoulder.

"Well, you can count me in on whatever you got planned," Hannibal told her. "After all…we are friends."

"That we are," Wuya affirmed. "Though there is one little stipulation. I outrank you. If your name didn't make up the acronym, you answer to the ones who do. And we only have room for one H."

"That would be me," the Huntsman said coldly. He had expected that the one Wuya so looked up to would have been human at least. A bean wasn't as egregious as a dragon, but he still felt as though any bean who expected the Huntsman to answer to him had more nerve than any bean had a right to have.

Hannibal weighed his options. Either become subservient or have the rest of the (competent) Heylin move on without him to a bigger venture. The choice wasn't ideal, but it was obvious. "I accept your terms," he stated calmly.

"Good," Wuya said, straightening up. "Now that we have the team put together, it's time to collect our advantage."

"Oh, please tell me we're hunting down Shen Gong Wu," Jack begged. "Please, please, PLEASE tell me!"

"We're hunting down the Shen Gong Wu," Wuya told him with a grin. "Though really, it won't be much of a hunt. We all know where they are. All we have to do is take them back."

...

Ideally, the break-in would have taken place in the dead of night, but without a consistent timepiece set to that world's rhythm, no one had any way of telling what time it really was due to the lack of any visual markers overhead, and besides, it was basically eternally night anyway.

The Xiaolin Temple's vault was built around a spiral stairway that led past the resting places for strangely shaped artifacts of all kinds. These, the WHAM ARMY contingent had been informed, were the Shen Gong Wu: the magical tools that had been the subject of the Xiaolin-Heylin conflict for centuries. Wuya reminded all that the Xiaolin Warriors had managed to win every last Shen Gong Wu in the conflict that had put her into her puzzle box before she'd wound up in Huntsclan possession. It was now the intent of the group to quietly ferret enough pieces to put up a decent fight against Maleficent out of the vault.

"Okay," Roman said softly as he retrieved a pure blue sphere from its hiding place, "how do these things work again?"

"You say the Shen Gong Wu's name," Wuya explained, "and it activates. Right now, you're holding the Orb of Tornami."

"Okay then," Roman replied. "Orb of Tornami."

A rush of water erupted from the sphere, drenching the nearby Jack, who screeched.

"Pipe down!" Mim hissed. "Do you want to bring those do-gooder monks down here? Then we'd have to pulverize them instead of sneaking away! …Which…actually does sound like more fun…"

"Man, this is gonna take forever to dry off!" Jack lamented as he examined the state of his coat.

"Well, I like the concept," Roman muttered, "but this isn't exactly my style."

"For you," Wuya stated, tossing him a wand with a red stone at its zenith and two golden prongs curved around it, "I would think something more like the Thorn of Thunderbolt. …Don't activate it in here."

Roman caught the wand, examining it. "Let me guess. Electricity?"

"Electricity," Wuya confirmed.

She stood at the top of the stairway, searching the upper shelves. A sudden noise alerted her.

"We're not alone," she hissed. "The fools must have heard Jack Spicer caterwauling."

"I AM NOT THAT LOUD!" Jack insisted, loudly.

"What do y'all suggest now?" Hannibal asked, ever calm.

"We crush them," Mim said with a smirk.

"If we have to do this the hard way," Wuya resolved, "we'll do it the hard way."

Strange voices grew closer: "I know I heard something…"

"Great. 'Course it's the vault."

"It better not be Jack Spicer."

The first to enter was a very short teenage boy, his head distinctly large and round. When he noticed who was standing before him, his jaw dropped in disbelief. "WUYA?" Omi identified.

"Wait, what?" A girl with black pigtails pushed around him. "No way! What are YOU doing here? We locked you up in that box!"

"For, what, the third time, Kimiko?" Wuya countered. "And how many times has that actually worked?"

"The first time, it managed to keep you outta our hair for some good fifteen hundred years," a tall, broad boy with a mop of blond hair retorted.

Before Wuya could say anything to that one, who she knew to be named "Clay," the fourth member of the group edged around the others to stand at their forefront on the narrow stairway. "So you thought you could steal all our Wu when we weren't looking," the slender boy with deep brown hair accused. "And what's with all the new recruits? Too scared to take us on alone?"

"You know, I actually missed you, Raimundo," Wuya greeted. "It's exactly that aggressive attitude that would have blended you so well with the Heylin."

"Don't try any of your tricks on me!" Raimundo spat. "I'm not joining your dark side!"

"Good," Wuya replied, "because we're long past the point where we would want you. Things are a little different now."

"You aren't simply addressing the Heylin," Snatcher said as he stood behind Wuya, looming over her shoulder. "You've crossed paths with the WHAM ARMY."

"The what army?" Omi asked, dumbfounded.

"Interdimensional conquerors and perpetuators of mayhem," Aghoul explained from over Wuya's other shoulder. "Slayers of gods, too!"

"I don't believe it," Raimundo said firmly. "I'm guessing you just teamed up with a bunch of blowhards who talk big. You're no godslayer."

"How easily you forget the true extent of my power," Wuya sighed. "I don't have any limits put on me this time. If you want to get out of this alive, you should leave now and let us take what we want."

"Not a chance!" Raimundo argued.

"Why are you even offering them a chance to live?" Mim asked, dumbfounded. "Let's just kill them!"

"Now, I like the sounds of that," Aghoul agreed.

"We're not letting you take all our Wu!" Kimiko insisted.

"Oh, really?" Wuya asked. "And what are you going to do to stop me?"

Raimundo quickly reached for the Shen Gong Wu nearest to him, drawing forth what looked like a pair of silken butterfly wings. "You want this?" he taunted, holding the Monarch Wings out in front of Wuya.

"Of course I want it!" She swiped out, grasping the wings.

It was all according to Raimundo's plan. The moment they both made physical contact with the wings, Raimundo declared, "I CHALLENGE YOU TO A XIAOLIN SHOWDOWN!"

A brilliant light surged forth from the Monarch Wings, temporarily blinding all present. The sounds of shifting earth echoed. When the light faded, the opposing factions were no longer facing each other down on the spiral stairway, but instead all gathered together on a small platform of earth floating in a starry void. Innumerable other floating landmasses were situated around it, above, below, and adjacently.

"CURSE YOU!" Wuya hissed.

"Now you have to play by the rules," Raimundo reminded her. "It's four on four and no more."

"WHAT…THE…HELL?" Roman cried. "DOES SOMEONE WANNA EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?"

"You've never competed in a Xiaolin Showdown?" Jack said incredulously. "All right, here are the basics. When two people touch a Shen Gong Wu at the same time, one of them has the right to challenge the other to a Xiaolin Showdown over it. You can wager as many Wu as you have against what THEY have, and whoever wins gets everything in the pot. Then the world kinda turns into some weird contest arena for whatever game the challenger came up with."

"Now, that's magically ingenious," Aghoul remarked. "If it worked that way for every magical item, we could solve problems a lot more quickly."

"You realize we had already taken several Shen Gong Wu into our possession," Wuya informed Raimundo. "Meaning we have a lot to wager."

"WHERE'D THEY GO?" Yzma cried, realizing the elegant comb she had been holding moments earlier was now missing.

"That's part of the game I came up with," Raimundo said smugly, arms folded. "Let's get the wager out of the way, and then I'll explain the rules."

"This kid is a piece of work," Roman muttered.

"What child isn't?" Snatcher commented.

"I AM STANDING RIGHT HERE!" Jack yelped.

"I'm here too," Irmaplotz added.

"So you are," Snatcher said without amending his earlier statement.

Wuya remembered exactly what the WHAM ARMY had managed to pick up before Raimundo had tricked her into the Showdown. "I wager Ants in the Pants, the Eye of Dashi, the Ju-Ju Flytrap, the Lotus Twister, the Moby Morpher, the Orb of Tornami, the Star Hanabi, the Tangled Web Comb, and the Thorn of Thunderbolt against…" She mentally went over the items she had thought would be most useful in combat. "Your Fist of Tebigong, the Lasso Boa Boa, the Mikado Arm, the Shadow Slicer, the Sword of the Storm, the Third Arm Sash, the Two-Ton Tunic, the Ring of the Nine Dragons…" She thought over what final item she could pit against the Thorn of Thunderbolt.

"The Monkey Staff," Jack said hurriedly.

"Not the Monkey Staff," Wuya corrected.

"That's my favorite one!" Jack whined.

"Just wager the staff," Chase advised. "He's more competent with it than without."

"All right, all right, the Monkey Staff," Wuya sighed.

"Good picks," Raimundo replied smugly. "Here's the deal. The game is a scavenger hunt. All the Wu on the wager are hidden somewhere on these floating islands. Whoever ends up with the most of them and brings them back to this base before time runs out wins everything."

An immense hourglass fashioned itself on the platform where everyone stood; though the top half was filled with sand, it remained stationary. Yzma gave the hourglass a good look-over, a plot already forming in her mind.

"Now which four of you are gonna race us?" Clay asked.

"I'll obviously lead the team," Wuya declared. She gave Hannibal a meaningful look; "What do you say? For old times' sake?"

"'Til I get that Moby Morpher back," Hannibal informed her, "I ain't gonna be much use for carryin' things."

Chase stepped forward. "Then I will fill in. It has been a long time since I have had a chance to humiliate you."

"Pick me," Mim commanded. "I want to destroy these children!"

"Now, hold on," Aghoul broke in. "You got to poison the Keybearer! I deserve a turn at crushing our foes!"

"This course will require athleticism you do not possess," the Huntsman told Aghoul. "I should be the one to join Wuya."

"YOU got to kill Amaterasu!" Aghoul reminded him. "Besides, this course is going to require SABOTAGE more than anything else. We all know it."

"Sabotage?" Omi said with a nervous grin. "Who said anything about sabotage? We were going to play fair and rectangular!"

"Fair is fair," Wuya stated. "Huntsman, Mim, take the bench. Aghoul is up. Meaning the fourth position can only go to the most worthy person on the team." She flashed a smile to Yzma. "You're up, darling."

"Wonderful!" Yzma cried. "I already have a plan for victory."

"Not one of your plans," Aghoul groaned.

"Does no one here have faith in me?" Yzma moaned.

"I do," Wuya told her.

"Good," Yzma said, "because I'll need your help."

"Name it," Wuya told her, "and you get it." She turned back to Raimundo; "Me, Chase, Aghoul, and Yzma. That's my final answer."

Everyone not named by Wuya vanished, reappearing seated in a floating section of bleachers near the base island. Mim rose from her seat to march back to the field, but found the way blocked by an invisible barrier that kept the audience strictly relegated to observation.

"Ready whenever you are," Wuya said coyly.

"I was born ready," Raimundo replied aggressively.

They locked eyes, attempting to stare each other to death. Then, in unison, they cried, "GONG YI TAN PAI!"

With that declaration, all four Xiaolin Warriors leapt off the base island, rushing to search for the hidden Shen Gong Wu. Chase did the same, and Aghoul quickly followed suit.

Before beginning her search, Wuya asked Yzma, "What do you need for your plan?"

"A lawn chair, a parasol, and a daiquiri," Yzma replied.

Wuya didn't question it. When she left base, Yzma was stretched out on her lawn chair beside the hourglass, sipping her daiquiri daintily as the parasol protected her from a nonexistent sun. The hourglass, in the meantime, had begun to release its sand, counting down the minutes.

Omi was the first to find an item: the Lotus Twister was kept in a box tucked beneath thick shrubbery. "Aha!" he cried as he grasped the golden flower-shaped wand. "The forces of good are already in the lead!"

That was when the skull landed next to him. The force of the explosion propelled him off the island; were it not for another island floating beneath, Omi would have been thrown into the void. "HEY!" he cried to Aghoul, who was vaulting from landmass to landmass above him. "WHAT HAPPENED TO PLAYING FAIR AND RECTANGULAR?"

"The only way I play is foul!" Aghoul laughed down at him, tossing another skull.

Omi retrieved his Shimo Staff, a crystalline pole with shapeshifting powers, from within his robes, extending it and giving it a spin. It connected to the skull with a crack, sending it right back where it came from.

Aghoul discovered another box hidden in a pile of stones. As he set to open it, the skull rolled right next to his feet. The resulting blast propelled him up a level; his scythe blade bit into the side of a landmass to prevent him from falling. "Now this is my kind of game!" he laughed as he let skulls rain down on Omi, wondering how many would get ricocheted back.

Kimiko found herself on a flat platform covered in boxes; she opened three in a row to find them empty. "Oh, come on!" she groaned.

As she searched for the correct box in the field of tricks, she was aware of Chase Young vaulting up a makeshift stairway of floating rocks at the periphery of her vision. Sabotage wasn't beneath her, especially when time was of the essence. Reaching into a pouch, she brought forth several golden projectiles shaped like tiny birds. "ARROW SPARROW!" she cried, launching the birds at Chase.

The sparrows alit with flame as they surged directly for the experienced Heylin Warrior. Chase let them get as close as possible before making a graceful leap, arcing backward over the Arrow Sparrow and letting them collide into one of the floating rocks while he landed neatly on a nearby landmass. A tree sprouted nearby; he twirled and kicked it, causing a box containing the Star Hanabi to fall down.

Wuya darted out of a miniature cavern with the Ring of the Nine Dragons in hand; a massive cyclone of air spun over her, whipping her hair about and ripping the ring from her grasp. The whirlwind brought the ring right back to the source: Raimundo, who dropped half of a pair of golden nunchucks in order to have a free hand to close over the tiny object. "You still think you can beat the good guys, huh?" Raimundo said cockily.

"Is that the only reason you remain with the Xiaolin Warriors?" Wuya asked smugly. "Because they're the good guys? Because they always win!"

"Of course not!" Raimundo told her angrily. "Those guys are my friends!"

"You heroes and your power of friendship." Wuya rolled her eyes. "That really is the recurring theme, isn't it? Good thing I got some friends of my own."

"You wouldn't know friendship if it bit you in the butt," Raimundo claimed.

"And you don't know when it's a bad idea to talk smack to a witch," Wuya retorted, spheres of green flame appearing in either hand.

She launched them at Raimundo; he expertly sidestepped the first and ducked the second. "I'd love to stay and insult you," he stated, "but I got a Showdown to win." He leapt down to the level below.

Clay had been confronted with a box situated on wings, chasing it down until he finally managed to wrap his hands around it and dig out the Moby Morpher inside. As he did so, he fired a glance at base, where Yzma was still observing from her lawn chair. Was she even going to try to stop him? It seemed she'd just taken advantage of the situation to kick back. He decided not to worry about her.

The bleachers, in the meantime, had become a ruckus. Mim's sourness at not having been chosen for the competition had worn off, and she was now screaming, "GO GHOULIE GO! GO GHOULIE GO!"

Irmaplotz and Jack were giving a synchronized cheer of "WU-YA! WU-YA!" while thrusting fists into the air.

"It's times like these I know I done did the right thing turnin' that Chase Young to the dark side," Hannibal remarked.

"Am I to understand he was formerly allied with those children before you made him your protégé?" Snatcher asked, interest piqued.

"Well, he was fifteen hundred years before their time," Hannibal corrected, "but he was fightin' for all that was right and all that pretty talk. I was the one who showed him the path to success."

"Good," Roman told him. "You know, in times like these, kids at risk of becoming heroes could use a good criminal mentor. We lose so many of them to law and order." He shook his head. "Shame, really."

"Is she really going to spend the whole Showdown in that chair?" Katnappé asked in disbelief.

"That's no way to win!" Tubbimura grumbled.

"She said she had a plan," the Huntsman replied. "And she had better have been telling the truth."

The hourglass had almost run out of sand. Hurriedly, the seven seekers raced back to base with all of their findings. "I think we got more than Wuya's team!" Kimiko observed as she, Clay, Raimundo, and Omi met up.

"When will she learn that the forces of evil will never win against us?" Omi replied cockily.

The four Xiaolin Warriors touched down on the base before Wuya, Chase, or Aghoul could arrive with their treasures. There was still time to spare.

That was enough time for Yzma to casually retrieve her atlatl from beneath the lawn chair.

The four darts whizzed through the air before the Xiaolin Warriors had time to react. Once all were pierced, they turned and fired the now grinning Yzma a look of pure horror. Then, in four clouds of virulent pink smoke, they transformed, no longer able to hold onto their Shen Gong Wu.

Yzma quickly sprang from her seat, scooping up the fallen treasures. "Finders keepers, losers weepers!" she declared to herself.

Wuya, Chase, and Aghoul landed on the base next to her; between them, they held all of the Shen Gong Wu that had been part of the wager.

Once more, a bright light engulfed the field. When it subsided, Wuya, Yzma, Aghoul, Chase, Snatcher, Roman, Mim, Irmaplotz, the Huntsman, Jack, Hannibal, Tubbimura, and Katnappé stood in the upper room of the vault with their new treasures. The Xiaolin Warriors were present also, but in their new tiny, amphibious forms. Knowing they were at a serious disadvantage, they hustled to bound out of the room before their enemies could cause them any more grievous harm.

"HA!" Jack yelled as he pointed at them. "YOU GUYS ARE SUCH LOSERS!"

"Really?" Wuya asked as she observed the escaping warriors. Turning to Yzma, she emphasized, "Toads? REALLY?"

"What's wrong with toads?" Yzma asked in confusion.

"Everything," Wuya replied. "Sure, you might think at first that they're awkwardly cute and amusing. But try and keep one around while you're working on something important and it will get everywhere and ruin everything."

Yzma didn't ask. What she did ask was "That Raimundo. Did he mean something to you?"

Wuya turned back to look at the vault door. "He had potential, once," she admitted. "But he squandered it all. I gave him everything. I thought he could harness true power. He rejected it all in favor of this. Even Jack Spicer had stronger convictions than him in the end. That is why he is with us and Raimundo is not."

"I'm actually better than Raimundo at something!" Jack cheered. "Yay!"

"Now, he's the problem of whatever wild bird tries to digest him," Wuya concluded.

Hannibal had taken the time to settle a pair of golden plates on his arms. "Ah, the good old Moby Morpher," he sighed. "Now I can get back into business big time."

"What does THAT one do?" Mim asked, curious.

"You want, I could give you a little demonstration," Hannibal told her. "In fact, I think one's necessary to finish off the charade."

By lamplight, the tall, bearded Master Fung, mentor to the Xiaolin Warriors, watered the plants in the outdoor garden while his small dragon assistant Dojo observed. The plants would not last much longer without sunlight, but Fung was doing the best he could to prolong their limited life.

The sound of footsteps drew his and Dojo's attention; they looked to the garden entrance to see Raimundo rushing in. "Hey, Master Fung!" Raimundo declared. "The others and me, we think we got a lead on where all this darkness came from. We're heading out to see if we can stop it."

"A dangerous mission, no doubt," Fung stated.

"We're comin' with ya!" Dojo insisted.

Raimundo put up his hands, shaking them. "No, no!" he asserted. "That's not gonna be necessary. This is something we have to do on our own. Kind of one of those proving ourselves things, you know?"

"If you must," Fung told him. "After all, you are quite accomplished warriors. I will trust your judgment."

"Thanks, Master Fung," Raimundo told him. "Means a lot."

"You sure you don't want me along?" Dojo asked. "Adventuring, you know, it's kind of our thing."

"You need to make sure Master Fung stays safe while we're gone," Raimundo told him. "We wouldn't want another Yin-Yang World incident."

"Ehh, true," Dojo agreed. "Okay. You kids have fun restoring the natural order."

Kimiko skidded in alongside Raimundo; "Come ON, Rai! You're slowing us down!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be right there," Raimundo insisted as the pair rushed out of the garden.

Once they had exited the temple, they felt secure in letting the disguise drop. "Raimundo" shimmered back into the form of Hannibal Roy Bean, now grown to the size of a human; both shapeshifting and size-changing were powers offered to him by the Moby Morpher. "Kimiko," meanwhile, popped back into the shape of Mad Madam Mim without the aid of any magical implement.

"Something tells me you and I are going to have LOTS of fun together, Hannibal!" Mim cackled.

"Lookin' forward to it," Hannibal replied with a crooked-toothed grin.

As the others waited for Hannibal and Mim to return, Snatcher ruminated on an idea he'd conceived while watching the Showdown. His mind had wandered all the way back to his gambit to earn the White Hat of Cheesebridge. Specifically, to the device he had constructed for the final act. The concept had been solid, and he wondered if perhaps it had a place in the upcoming ambush in order to give the team an edge.

Of course, it would have to be refined a good deal, and Snatcher had been struck with exactly the right cruel poetry to do so.

"Mr. Spicer," he addressed.

"Yeah?" Jack replied.

"Were I to pair you with a similarly competent mechanic and technological visionary," Snatcher asked, thinking of Herb, "how quickly could you put together a rudimentary vehicle that could hold around thirty?"

"So quickly, you wouldn't even notice that you never had one," Jack bragged. "What'd you have in mind?"

As Mim and Hannibal rejoined the crowd, Snatcher informed Jack and anyone else who happened to be listening, "This is no mere ambush. It's going to be a PERFORMANCE."