A/N: For AU purposes, I have blended the lore of Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure with the Tangled prequel novel "Mother Knows Best" by Serena Valentino, as each gave me almost what I needed but not quite everything. Just go with the flow; I'll explain as things come up.

Gothel sneered as she entered Grimhilde's laboratory. It looked every inch the sorceress' domain – black stone, an iron cauldron, a cabinet of potion ingredients best left unnamed, shelves of dusty leather tomes. In fact, it reminded Gothel of the home she used to inhabit back in Corona.

Except Gothel's was better.

Now, that had been a lair that understood gothic undertones. An underground chamber of horrors to rival this ripoff; horrible poisons and concoctions galore! And the mirrors! Grimhilde only had the one. Now, Gothel had adorned her walls with a hundred mirrors, each of which designated to record a specific memory of hers depending on her mood. There was the Sadness Mirror, the Mirror That Proves I'm Beautiful, the Joy Mirror…limiting oneself to a single mirror was so boring.

Yes. Gothel's old domain was definitely better, and she rather missed it.

(The two lairs were equally comparable. But Gothel would not accept ties in anything.)

Grimhilde's index finger traced below the text of a spellbook she held over a bubbling cauldron. "What is it you want?" she asked sharply without even looking up or acknowledging Gothel's presence in any way.

"Oh, just…checking in." Gothel leaned against the cauldron, though she knew enough to remain out of range to touch whatever Grimhilde was making in there. Even if it was as harmless as pea soup (which she knew it wasn't). "Wondering how a lovely woman such as yourself is faring on this fine afternoon. Oh, and speaking of 'fare,' you weren't kidding about being fairest of all. I can especially tell that today." Under her breath: "Well, at least second fairest; I mean, I am here…" Back to full volume: "Oh, and by the way, this only just occurred to me now, not that I'm trying to RUSH you or anything, but I may have realized my delivery of youth potion was just the teensiest bit late. I wanted to make sure you hadn't run into any difficulties."

"So that is what this is about," Grimhilde said stonily, still not looking up from the book. "Also, do not mistake my perception. I know you believe yourself to be fairer, and that is not so."

"…Agree to disagree." Gothel waved a hand. "But about that potion – "

"A dilemma I am attempting to solve," Grimhilde stated. "I have used the last of the most critical ingredient, what gives it strength. In days past, I employed a huntsman to collect this ingredient for me, but with my need to execute Humbert following his failure to slay Snow White…I find myself lacking."

"Well, I'll just pop on down to the store to pick up some more," Gothel said casually.

"It will not be so simple." Grimhilde finally looked up at her, brow furrowed. "No shop shelf holds unicorn blood."

Gothel stared a moment, blinking a couple times. Then she broke into giggles; "Oh, Grimhilde, you're such a jester. For a minute there, I thought you were serious about mixing up unicorn blood into my youth potion."

"It is the primary ingredient that allows you to maintain your young appearance," Grimhilde told her coldly. "To consume unicorn blood brings longevity, but at a price: a 'cursed life.' However, given the Overtakers' place in the world, its curse hardly affects us. You will not have noticed a greater amassing of Darkness about your person, or a little more bad luck."

Gothel flinched. "You know, you really could have told me this when I signed up. I wouldn't have drank something I knew had BLOOD in it."

"Not all routes to immortality are as simple as Rapunzel flowers," Grimhilde replied. "I do believe the inaccessibility of those plants lies in your hands, after all."

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

"I refer to what Maleficent told me: you purged the Dead Wood of all Rapunzel flowers save two. One for yourself…and the one already taken in such a fashion that you could not have it."

Gothel glowered; "So now you're gossiping about me behind my back. Is that it?"

"Information is a valuable commodity," Grimhilde told her. "We must know our own allies. Once you have earned our trust, you will learn some priceless information of our own."

Gothel let out a groan, rolling her eyes. "So let's make a long story short. Do you have a way to make me immortal or no?"

"Perhaps she doesn't," a deep, almost sultry voice came from behind Gothel. "But I do."

As Gothel turned to behold the one who'd spoken, she felt a chill run down her spine – not just because the man made any room a couple of degrees colder just by standing in it, but also because his physique was simply gorgeous. "Oh, hello, Flurious," Gothel replied, lips creeping into a smirk, sounding quite sultry herself.

"Save the pleasantries," Flurious told her. It was only now that she noticed Victor von Doom standing behind him, hovering like a haunting shadow. "I have come to discuss a plan that may benefit all of us."

Grimhilde shut her book, setting it aside. "I am eager to hear your proposition," she said in a flat tone that was not at all eager.

"Have you heard of the Philosopher's Stone?" Flurious asked.

"What kind of question is that?" Gothel sighed. "EVERYONE'S heard of the Philosopher's Stone."

"I have come to realize I cannot be too careful," Flurious stated. "Underestimating the idiocy of those in these halls may prove to be a downfall of mine."

Accidentally putting the case in the point by not catching the insult, Gothel urged, "Well? Do you HAVE a Philosopher's Stone?"

"Of course not," Flurious stated. "A Philosopher's Stone may only be obtained in certain ways, none of which are simple. Harnessing the energy of two genies or equivalent magical creatures, utilizing a recipe only readable to those who possess the book in which it is printed, transmuting thousands of souls into one concentrated mass…and, of course, Gem Fusion. Which brings me to the true purpose of my visit: the Corona Aurora."

"A mystical crown that lends the wearer unlimited power," Doom piped up. "It seems certain nuisances have beaten us to it, as the gems were scattered in order to protect them from said nuisances. Collecting those gems and reforging the Corona would be a priceless asset to our effort."

"There is a world where the gems of the Corona can unleash their truest sentient forms," Flurious went on. "By pure happenstance, it seems one of the gems has been sent there in this protection effort. She will be waking up at any moment."

"She?" Gothel repeated. "Are we still talking about a jewel?"

"In a sense," Flurious reported. "In the Geode Galaxy, there are beings who take the appearances of humans – or something like them – but are truly just light projections contained within mystical gems that serve as the heart."

"You know, I'm starting to get to that point where nothing surprises me anymore," Gothel realized. "Go on."

"Any two or more Gems may fuse to become a more powerful gem," Flurious went on, "though both gems remain on the body of the fusion in some form. For instance, a Ruby and a Sapphire may choose to become a Garnet. She would still have to bear both gems, but in the form of a red and blue garnet rather than a ruby and a sapphire."

"And we're assuming it's a woman why?" Gothel asked.

"You claim nothing surprises you," Flurious told her, "and yet the concept of an all-female race baffles you?"

"Fair point," Gothel said. "Though, if they're all women, then how do they repro – "

"You of all, asking this?" Grimhilde broke in. "Are you truly so dense as to have forgotten, or simply attempting to cover your tracks?"

Gothel fired Grimhilde a venomous glare. "You know too much," she seethed. Then she forced herself into a façade of calm; "Well, yes, Manea may have created me and my sisters without the need for a man. But that was a long time ago, and I have no idea how she did it."

Grimhilde, wisely, remained silent. Best Gothel think at this stage that playing dumb worked. Once the bond was strengthened, then Grimhilde might be able to broach the subject of Gothel's own offshoot.

"Gems are born in various ways," Flurious explained, "such as being mined from a kindergarten. But all that is beside the point. What you seek is a Philosopher's Stone, which can be attained from only one particular fusion: a Diamond and a gem of the Corona Aurora. Should the two fuse, the diamond would transform into a Philosopher's Stone while the Corona gem would be an augment of its original form. You take the stone yourself…and the Corona gem belongs to me."

"It belongs to the upper echelon," Doom corrected. "Maleficent shall decide."

"Yes, yes," Flurious sighed, rolling his own eyes. "That's what I meant, of course."

"Grimhilde would have the necessary means to implant the Philosopher's Stone in your heart," Doom explained. "It would remove the need for you to self-replenish via sundrop or potion."

"Now, hang on." Gothel glared at Doom. "Aren't you looking for immortality yourself? How do I know this isn't some plan to string me along until you get what you want, then YOU steal the Philosopher's Stone away to make YOURSELF immortal?"

"Because the stone is an Achilles Heel," Doom stated. "Whosoever relies upon it for youth, power, or any other aspect becomes vulnerable. Destroy the stone or deplete it of energy and you kill the dependent. I cannot take such a risk, no matter how deeply into the body the stone is implanted. You, however…are not prone to such risks."

"What he means," Flurious corrected, "is that you're exactly the kind of person who would take up the offer anyway, no matter how foolish it would be to do so."

"…You know," Gothel admitted, "I shouldn't be dignifying that with a response, but getting shot in the heart would kill me no matter what, so I might as well go all in. As for depleting it of energy, however…how would that work? Say if one wanted to prevent it."

"Drawing upon it for power," Doom told her. "Think of it as, to use a crude analogy, the gauntlet of the young annoyance Mozenrath. Utilizing the stone's energy for your own magic would deprive it. I, versed in the mystical arts, could not safely use the stone. But you, having not consumed the blood of Manea – "

"DOES EVERYONE KNOW?" Gothel shrieked. "IS MY CHILDHOOD JUST PRINTED ON SOME KIND OF OVERTAKER BULLETIN THAT EVERYONE READS ON THEIR LUNCH BREAK?"

" – have little risk of drawing upon the stone for any magic at all," Doom concluded calmly. "Considering you were the only of Zhan Tiri's servants who could not attain a spirit form."

Gothel remembered her trump card. "You know…keep disrespecting me, and I might just walk out. And there goes your chance of using Zhan Tiri against the gods. Whoopsy! Right out the window!"

"Like you, when your daughter killed you?" Flurious retorted.

"Perhaps it would be unwise to spread animosity," Doom agreed. "We came to extend our hand in partnership, not to forge rivalry."

"I won't hold my tongue," Flurious snapped.

"You don't need to," Gothel told him. "You have the body to get away with it."

"Do not test me," Flurious warned.

"You've already passed all my tests," Gothel said with a wink.

Flurious turned to Doom; "Is there a way to silence her?"

"Only to withstand," Doom replied. "Do not let her words affect you."

"Easier said than done," Flurious groaned.

"To the point," Grimhilde broke in, eager to get the conversation back on track. "You seek reinforcements for a mission to this Geode Galaxy to retrieve your lost gem. As a side endeavor, you seek to fuse this gem with a Diamond in order to give Gothel compensation for working alongside you…and, I presume, to give me the chance to experiment with such a stone's effect on a human."

"Precisely," Flurious stated. "Victor – "

"Doom," Doom corrected.

"Victor had also wanted to accompany us on this outing for scientific purposes," Flurious concluded.

"You're lucky you're so handsome," Gothel groaned.

"As well as lending us an invaluable resource," Grimhilde stated. "You may very well be one of our most powerful assets."

"I thought we had someone else who was stronger," Gothel mused. "You know, the one with the fake arm who wears the rabbit-ears hood."

"No," Doom told her. "We do not know."

"I thought for sure we had someone around here like that…" Gothel shrugged. "Either we don't, or he's just that forgettable."

(Upstairs, Qilby got the faintest inkling he was being talked about, but dismissed it, as no one really seemed to do that around here.)

"Then I shall collect our final hired muscle," Flurious stated, "and we can all be on our way."

He turned to lead the others out of the chamber. The moment he entered the main hall, he let out a sonorous bellow: "HAAAAANS! DEMYX!"

The aforementioned came skidding out of a nearby room to line up before him. "Geez!" Demyx groaned, rolling his eyes. "You could be WAY less rude when you do that, you know!"

"Apparently he cannot," Doom sighed. "No matter the situation."

"What do you want?" Hans asked.

"A pair of footmen and extra muscle to tend to our needs on an important mission," Flurious stated.

"Footmen?" Demyx cringed. "Uh, I don't DO 'footman.' I don't really want to DO anything around here, to be honest, but if you're gonna, my specialties are thievery and recon."

"Which we shall require on this mission," Doom stated. "The stone we seek may need to be acquired cleverly and forcibly. We shall also be venturing to foreign territory, and need to send a scout ahead to bring back important details."

"Okay, see?" Demyx gestured toward Doom. "He gets me."

"At least your sitar does not shatter at the merest contact," Flurious told him, giving a pointed glare to Hans.

"I – okay, that is NOT fair!" Hans argued. "I don't think I want to go anywhere with you after all."

"Boys!" Gothel snapped. "Ignoring the insults, don't you both want to come on this extraordinary quest to help me attain immortality by capturing the rarest of gems?"

"No," Hans and Demyx said as one, folding their arms.

"The location of interest is a beachside town," Doom stated. "One might call it…pleasant."

Hans and Demyx appeared to be thinking it over.

"As for the piece Gothel refers to," Doom went on, "her immortality can only be attained by coercing one of the supreme rulers of the dominant race to acquiesce to our demands. A task that will require either silver-tongued persuasion or clever play with the immense supply of water at hand."

This got Hans and Demyx to loosen up at the same time:

"Well, I can't really pass that up – "

"Okay, NOW this kinda sounds like fun – "

"See?" Gothel sidled up to Flurious. "Once you remove the icicle from your, ahem, area that doesn't see sunshine, you can get people to do whatever you want."

"Or," Flurious countered, "I get you all to do what you did, and then you fall in line to what I demand."

"This is my mission," Doom stated – not out of anger, but moreso mild frustration, as though he'd been having to make this correction all day and realized that Flurious really was only pretending he was in charge, having no actual power over Doom's say. "That said, you may once more take the lead."

"Follow me." Flurious strode ahead.

"You know," Gothel said as she trotted along after, "actually, you being pigheaded is part of the attractiveness."

"It…weirdly is?" Demyx realized. "No offense – "

"No, I see it to," Hans said with a nod before the two fell into step.

"Flurious may lead the procession," Doom stated, "but do not forget it is I who commands from the shadows."

"I never could," Grimhilde said with a smile. "Let the petulant one have his fun. In the end, it is our word that Maleficent trusts."

"Truly. And should he step outside the line – "

"A spell shall strike; a technological marvel shall put him back in place."

"Precisely," Doom stated, thinking about how he really hadn't taken good enough advantage of Grimhilde's company up to date.

They brought up the rear, yet still in the lead.

The pearl rocketed through space like a small meteor, picking up a comet-tail of friction and flame before finally plummeting into the sands of the Earth of the galaxy.

There, she waited, only just now realizing the capabilities that she had been granted by arriving here.

Then, once she realized those capabilities, she began to test them.

The pearl itself rose up, a shimmering light in a humanoid form forging around it. Then, all at once, it solidified into a sparkling body curled into a ball on the sand.

She stood, wobbling a bit. Had she a mirror, she would have been able to see that she, like most Pearls, was very slender, with twiggy limbs and a pointed nose. Her skin was absolute white, as one might see in new-fallen snow, no pigmentation. Her dark-gold hair was cut unevenly, messily pulled into a shaggy ponytail that draped over one shoulder.

She wore a baggy cream-colored shirt, pulled into her figure by a dark burgundy vest. Beneath this, a voluminous, flowing skirt of beige, ripped and torn enough that one could see the full set of trousers and the heavy black boots she sported beneath it. Around her waist was a sash comprised of a length of fabric tied off. The entire outfit was battered, a few cutaway rips showing off her pale skin – nothing lewd was exposed, but one tear revealed where the pearl was set into her body, just beneath her chest and over the right lobe of the liver. Over the top of her head, she had a red bandanna tied, a black three-corner hat with a burgundy feather topping it off.

Blinking, Corona Pearl got a good look around.

"Yarr," she muttered. "Looks like I find meself in strange waters. Per'aps one of the landlubbers of this region can tell me where I've been marooned."

With that, she took off running toward civilization, which appeared to be a small dockside town.

That town, Beach City, had been undergoing a lot of changes lately. Change was supposedly a good thing, but all involved – the Gems who were coming down to Earth from their celestial civilization, the humans welcoming them – were at a sense of unease, not quite certain how to deal with the culture shock.

White Diamond had fallen – so to speak. She was still in charge of Gemdom, and yet her former regime was dismantled – she'd made her best effort to say there were no more castes, no more assigned duties based on cut, no more referring to the outcasts as "Off-Color." After all, one young boy (who had once been a young Diamond woman, but she was long-gone) had managed to turn White Diamond off-color herself, if but for a moment, and that had changed everything.

It was this boy, Steven Universe, who was giving White Diamond a tour of Beach City, his Earth hometown that was becoming a hub for human and Gem interaction. Of course, this was no easy feat, as White Diamond was the size of many small mountains documented on Earth's geography. For the sake of the tour, given that she would have to move about a town she could very easily have stomped on a quarter of, she had utilized the natural shapeshifting abilities that came to all Gems to make herself a more human-sized entity – though probably not a very realistic one, still standing at seven feet tall. She cut an impressive figure, with her long white robes, her cape patterned to look like a shimmering night sky, and her pointed headdress. And, topping off the picture, a perfectly clear-cut diamond set into her forehead.

"I feel less than regal," White Diamond grumbled as she followed the short, plump boy with the dark, curly hair toward the campus under construction.

"Well, that can be a good thing sometimes," Steven told her. "It's important to take care of yourself, you know, and you can't do that while being regal all the time. You gotta relax sometimes and have fun."

"I still do not understand why 'fun' is necessary," White Diamond admitted. "It is not productive in a functional society."

"Yeah, but it's…" Steven tried to figure out how to define the word "fun" without using the word "fun" in the definition. "It's something that makes you feel good."

"Hmm." White Diamond thought it over. "Feeling good was how you convinced me a chance was necessary in the first place. I should like to feel good more often. Very well. You may teach me how to have 'fun.'"

"There are plenty of ways to have fun in Beach City," Steven affirmed. "Not everything's for everyone, but I'm sure we'll find something you like. Anyway, before we get into that, here's the Little Homeschool I was telling you about!"

The campus was shaping up to be a mass of buildings carved by Gem hand – not as sterile and unanimous as White Diamond would have ordered, yet more polished, more kempt than human domiciles. "I do not understand," White Diamond said. "Why do the buildings look like that?"

"Well," Steven told her, "this is what happens when you let Gems express themselves and build what they want. Get creative. They pull ideas they liked from Homeworld, but they make it so it's more like their own aesthetic."

"Creative," White Diamond repeated.

"You don't know what that is either, do you?" Steven ventured.

"Of course I do!" White Diamond barked. "It is…something to do with variety and deviation!"

"Something like that. We'll work on it."

"So this…'Little Homeschool,'" White Diamond continued. "It is for…teaching Gems how to live on Earth?"

"Basically," Steven told her.

"Gems already know how to live," White Diamond told him.

"Well, uh…" Steven scratched the back of his head. "No offense, but…under your rule, with all your laws and everything, a lot of Gems really didn't understand how to do what makes them actually…happy. They, uh, kinda have to unlearn a lot. And also how not to judge each other by class, since there are no classes anymore."

"I see," White Diamond mused. Long ago, she would've smited Steven on the spot. But not now, not when she was trying to be more open-minded. Not when she knew Steven was all she had left of her precious Pink Diamond. "I suppose I am glad such a facility is coming into existence. Though are that many Gems really going to want to settle here? This planet is so…wild. Untamed. Messy. Exactly as Pink Diamond wanted, come to think of it."

"And that's the thing," Steven told her. "My mom was able to see the beauty in this planet, and a lot of other Gems are figuring that out, too. No, it's not like Homeworld. But a lot of Gems don't want Homeworld anymore. They wanna try something new. Find themselves. We've already had a lot of reserved spots in the school by Gems who decided to move here."

"Hmm." White Diamond thought this over. "I still do not understand, but I suppose this is yet another phenomenon I shall simply have to let exist without understanding it."

"That might be best, yeah." Steven glimpsed movement behind White Diamond. "Oh! It looks like there's someone new now! We should go say hi!"

"Say what?" White Diamond replied as Steven took off running toward the unfamiliar Gem. "Is that some sort of informal greeting?" She turned to follow in a graceful stalk.

"Heeeey!" Steven called out as he waved to the newcomer.

In an instant, she was before Steven, halting him with a cutlass she'd drawn from the gem over her liver. As Steven cringed before the blade, Corona Pearl growled, "Landlubber! Tell me where I be marooned that I be in this body!"

"Uh…calm down!" Steven put up both of his hands. "I'm not here to hurt you!"

White Diamond's eyes flashed brilliantly with rage. "Do not hurt Pi – Steven Universe," she growled. "If you do, there will be consequences."

The cutlass was pointed to White Diamond next. "And who be ye, ye tall land-fish?" Corona Pearl asked. "Is all that height meant to intimidate? 'Cause Corona Pearl has a heart o' stone and a liver o' pearl, and fears nothing, be it human, Gem, or monster of the deep!"

"Perhaps you do not understand," White Diamond seethed. "I, White Diamond, order you to lower your weapon."

"Diamond?" Corona Pearl let out a loud, barkish laugh. "I do not take orders from no bilge-rat Diamond! What gives ye any authority over me, bucko?"

"You will regret those words," White Diamond growled.

"WHOA!" Steven threw himself in between the two, a hand up to each. "Let's not let this get out of hand! This is all just a big misunderstanding!"

"She refuses to answer to the ultimate authority," White Diamond stated. "I do not see the misunderstanding."

"Ye're no authority o' me, ye overgrown barnacle!" Corona Pearl snapped. "These be foreign waters, and I no privateer!"

"I think what she's saying is that she's not from around here," Steven realized. "Like, not even anywhere near Homeworld."

"But that's impossible," White Diamond protested. "Homeworld is the source of all Gems! Even her coloring suggests she is part of my court!"

"Be ye some trade baron?" Corona Pearl asked. "Or queen o' this harbor?"

"She really doesn't know who you are," Steven insisted to White Diamond. Then, to Corona Pearl; "But we can't tell you anything if we're too scared of you using that weapon on us."

"Ah, I see." Corona Pearl nodded, placing the tip of the blade back at her exposed gem; it slid inside, dissolving into light on the way. "Lily-livered knaves."

"I will not be called such insults by a PEARL," White Diamond seethed.

"WHOA, WHOA, WHOA!" Steven cried, waving his arms frantically. "White Diamond, that's the kind of thinking we're trying to undo here!"

"I suppose your Little Homeschool would attempt to teach me that this rogue is not out of line?" White Diamond surmised.

"Um…I mean, it's always rude to point swords at people, but otherwise, yeah," Steven affirmed. "She seems lost and confused and maybe a little scared – "

"CORONA PEARL IS AFRAID OF NOTHING!" Corona Pearl reiterated.

"Okay, so not scared," Steven corrected. "So your name is 'Corona Pearl'?"

"Aye," Corona Pearl confirmed. "Of the Corona Aurora, a roving Man O' War that has seen many a world and been mistaken for plunder."

"So is the Corona Aurora…a ship?" Steven guessed.

"A vessel," Corona Pearl told him. "Her crew be only five. Aboard, all are equal. Corona Diamond has no say over me nor any of me mateys. But it is only in the strangest of waters that we may look like I do. I am near blown down with curiosity as to where this might be."

"Well, actually," Steven brought up, "I was just giving White Diamond a tour of Beach City. Do you wanna come along? I could show you around, and you could tell us more about your…ship?"

"Steven," White Diamond hissed, "do you really believe it's a good idea to associate with this…riffraff?"

"We can't judge her until we know her," Steven told White Diamond. "That's what all this has been about. It might be a good learning experience."

"If you are certain," White Diamond sighed. "I shall follow your lead…for as long as this errant Pearl does not seem to be a true threat."

"Now, bring a sprig upon that cable!" Corona Pearl protested. "Who say I want to follow ye on yer 'tour,' then?"

"Uh…" Steven and White Diamond looked to each other. Steven shrugged; "I guess no one? You don't have to."

Corona Pearl thought it over; "I have decided I want yer tour. Consider us under parley."

"Great!" Steven clapped his hands together. "I have so much I wanna show you guys! Follow me!"

He set off proudly. White Diamond and Corona Pearl lingered a moment, giving each other the most venomous of glares. Wordlessly, an agreement passed between them: they in no way had to like each other for the duration of this tour, or at all, and had no intention of doing so.

But they both needed to get a lay of the land, and so both took off following after Steven, listening to him chatter about the landmarks ahead.

Atop a Gotham skyscraper, a flash of lightning illuminated the red night, revealing the silhouette of a caped observer standing watch over all. But this was no hero, no protector, no Dark Knight.

This was a very impatient sorcerer waiting for his pyro to show up.

"Did I not make my instructions incredibly clear?" Mozenrath grumbled.

Behind him, the Huntsman stated, "You did."

"How are we to be knowing such a thing?" Hämsterviel countered. "We were not there!"

"HE MADE IT CLEAR," the Huntsman defended.

"And Firefly STILL HASN'T SHOWN UP because…?" Mozenrath growled.

His scroll then began to jingle. "Oh, guess who it is?" Mozenrath said snidely. "I'm looking forward to hearing this excuse." He raised the scroll to his ear, pressing the appropriate button on its screen. "WHERE. ARE. YOU?"

"Where am I?" Garfield's voice came over the phone. "Where the heck are YOU? I've been flying all over!"

Mozenrath sighed. "I'm on top of the GothCorp headquarters on 27th and Main. Now, if you'll – "

"That's not where GothCorp is."

"Yes…it…is," Mozenrath snarled. "I know…because…I'm STANDING ON IT."

"What is it you're more sure about?" Garfield asked. "The building or the address?"

"BOTH, BECAUSE I WASN'T WRONG ABOUT EITHER OF THEM."

"Looking at GothCorp right now, Righty. You're not there."

"THEN GO TO MAIN AND 27TH."

The sound of a high-pitched buzz. Then: "You're…not there either. What the – Righty, are you even in Gotham?"

"YES," Mozenrath growled. "I THINK I WOULD KNOW IF I WASN'T IN GOTHAM. YOU'RE THE ONE WHO GOT LOST LOOKING FOR HIS OWN HOMEWORLD."

"You're not the one who lived there for years. Just chill already. I'll regroup with Irmaplotz and – "

"No, I need to know why there is any CONFUSION," Mozenrath continued. "Tell me…EXACTLY…where you were looking."

"Oh, you wanna get technical?" Garfield responded. "I was looking at the intersection of 27th and Main, Gotham, U.S.A., Planet Earth, 42nd Planet Earth of my dimension to be precise, coordinates three hundred and – "

"Twenty-fourth."

"…What?"

"Twenty-fourth Earth," Mozenrath repeated. "Not forty-second."

"Um. …I don't know how to tell you this, but you're on the wrong world."

"NO, YOU'RE ON THE WRONG WORLD!"

"Riiiiight. Because I not only traveled to the wrong world, but I know the lay of the land here and it's exactly the same as mine while your city doesn't match up to my Gotham. But go on about how I'M on the wrong world."

Mozenrath winced. "It seems…we are at…an impasse."

"It seems you ended up on the wrong world and don't wanna admit it."

"Since we are unable to locate each other – "

"Because you went to the wrong dimension – "

"I propose we divide our goals," Mozenrath groaned. "You find the Riddler as planned and recruit him to our side, while we…" He trailed off.

"While you what?" Garfield mocked. "Stumble around in the dark until you run into a recruitable villain to make it look like you did something productive?"

"I'll have you know we have an AGENDA here," Mozenrath snapped, "and once we've completed it, you'll understand exactly why this all went according to design. You don't need to know what that agenda is; just that it's going to be worth the trouble!"

"You are REALLY grasping at straws to avoid the fact that you m – "

"CALL WHEN YOU HAVE THE RIDDLER." Mozenrath hung up, pitching the scroll over the side of the skyscraper in frustration.

"Well, how is he supposed to call now when your communicator is in shambled smithereens at the bottom of the tower?" Hämsterviel brought up. "You belligerent brat of a – "

"I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING!" Mozenrath yelled.

"…He knows what he's doing," the Huntsman sighed. "And what, pray tell, is it we're doing?"

"Firefly claims WE'RE the ones who went to the 'wrong world,'" Mozenrath sneered. "We're going to prove him wrong by bringing back a valuable ally that justifies the trip."

"If we are on the correct celestial sphere," Hämsterviel mused, "can we not just find the riddling ridiculousness and use his existence to prove we were not the ones in error?"

"BECAUSE WE NEED TO BRING HOME SOMEONE BETTER TO PROVE A POINT," Mozenrath snarled.

"Just…listen to him," the Huntsman pleaded.

"But I am not UNDERSTANDING!" Hämsterviel barked. "Are you saying we have been making the mistake? Because if it was we who were correct – "

A great light, like an Aurora Borealis of fire, tore across the Gotham sky. From it, icthyan monstrosities with no eyes and razor-sharp teeth rained down, beginning to invade the city.

"I think we've just found our new target," Mozenrath stated. "Someone had to have summoned that, and I intend to figure out who."

In a flash, he'd transported them all to the street below, where chaos was breaking loose as civilians ran for cover.

It was easy to find the perpetrator; he was the only one not running in terror. Holding one hand up to the sky and chanting a repetitive incantation, he wore robes and a headdress of deep blue, a match to Mozenrath's palette, that billowed in the wind pouring forth from the gash in the sky.

Ending the incantation from a language long dead, he cried, "SO FAUST DEMANDS! SO FAUST DEMANDS!"

From within the tear in the sky, two enormous eyes of fire opened up to look down upon the world.

"Impressive," Mozenrath said as he casually walked up behind the man, Huntsman and Hämsterviel in tow. "I might just be tempted to offer you a job."

The sorcerer rounded on Mozenrath, fixing him with ice-blue eyes. "Felix Faust does not answer to men such as you," he spat.

"Well, that's pretty rude, seeing how we're the only people here who know how to appreciate your little light show," Mozenrath replied. "Don't tell me…summoned an old god?"

"Icthultu will demolish the world until my demands are met," Felix said with a sly smile.

"I'm pretty sure that's not how it's pronounced," Mozenrath mused. "I always thought it was more like – "

"You thought I was still being tormented by Hades as a fragment of soul, didn't you?" Felix interrupted. "Allow me to inform you of how I fought my way out by tooth and nail – "

"Look, I'm sure your backstory is all kinds of fascinating," Mozenrath sighed, "but right now, I wanna talk business, not the past. You may have heard of my syndicate, the WHAM ARMY. Sorcerers, street thugs, and slayers unite in the pursuit of total multiversal conquest – "

"Not interested," Felix sneered.

"Not interested?" Mozenrath repeated. "I'm not sure you understand what we're offering here."

"What you're offering is another chance to be shackled down as I was with Tala," Felix growled. "To which I say an emphatic, definite NO."

"And Tala would be…?" Mozenrath asked.

"A FORMER student of mine," Felix informed Mozenrath, smirking broadly. "One who learned the hard way to be careful in whom you put your trust."

"Oh," Mozenrath realized. "So you're the kind of sorcerer who would throw his minions under the caravan to get ahead."

"Minions, partners, the summoned – it's all the same," Felix stated.

"Not exactly a walking advertisement for why I should recruit you," Mozenrath retorted.

"I am not attempting to be recruited," Felix growled. "BEHOLD!" He stretched his arms up to the sky. "I need no apprentices, no masters, no teammates! It is I, Felix Faust and ONLY Felix Faust, who have brought this doom upon the world! Icthultu shall continue to ravage until I – "

And with that, the fire-eyed entity in the sky snapped a dark, vinelike tentacle out of the cosmic chasm, wrapped it around the hapless Felix, and whipped him up into the dimensional rift before anyone could really process what had just happened.

"I do believe Felix Faust has just learned why teamwork is in fact essential in our line of work," the Huntsman said dryly.

Mozenrath shook his head and clicked his tongue. "If only he'd taken us seriously. Then one of us MIGHT be bothered to go after him. As it stands…"

"LOOK OUT!" The Huntsman barged in front of Mozenrath, staff out and slicing at another descending tentacle. "FALL BACK AT ONCE!"

Mozenrath cringed, not really ready to admit how close he'd come to ending the same way Felix had done. Or how grateful he was to have a partner ready to prevent that.

"DO NOT JUST STAND THERE!" Hämsterviel was bolting at top speed. "FLEE! FLEE AT ONCE!"

So Mozenrath fled, but not without checking over his shoulder to make certain the Huntsman was following – once the tentacle had been dealt with, he'd managed to turn tail, bolting after and overtaking Mozenrath. The trio skidded around a corner and into an alley.

"Well," Mozenrath stated, "I think this has been enlightening."

"In the sense that THE VERY WORLD IS ABOUT TO END!" Hämsterviel cried. "WE MUST BE ESCAPING, TOUT DE SUITE! NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW!"

"Maybe not quiiiiite now," Mozenrath said smugly. "After all, we have just received some VERY interesting information – "

"MOZENRATH!" The Huntsman yelled. "Get to the point so we may evacuate BEFORE an Elder God devours us!"

"All right," Mozenrath grumbled, "I guess I'll just have to SHOW you."

He let deep-blue magic pour from his palm out onto the pavement of the alley, trickling like waters, forming a circle from which a human form emerged. When she stood completely above the glow of the portal Mozenrath had created from the realm of the dead to that of the living, she flinched, looking around with pupil-less, white-irised eyes to get her bearings. Her lips were painted the same shade of purple that her hair bore; her faint-brown skin showed through the many dips and slits of her dramatically angled black gown. A sigil was etched into the skin of her collarbone; her ears played host to clicking white earrings.

"You are…who?" she asked in confusion, her voice betraying an accent that placed her somewhat in the realm of Eastern Europe, from what Mozenrath could tell (likely the same point of origin as Madame Frou Frou was supposed to have).

"I am Mozenrath," the sorcerer replied. "Leader of the inter-world villain syndicate known as the WHAM ARMY. Our goal is conquest. I'm going to make this brief; Felix Faust just managed to summon an old god to this world, and it is currently wreaking havoc on Gotham City. The god took him to what I assume will be a realm of eternal torment, but not before he turned down my oh-so-generous offer to join my syndicate. Now I'm looking to not only spite Faust but add someone to my team who has his magical caliber and the brain he lacked. Tell me you can even do half of what he can."

"Felix is nothing," Tala scoffed. "I can perform all his parlor tricks and more…without getting myself eaten by a horrific creature from beyond space and time. I command the souls of the living and the dead, short of actual necromancy. I can transfer a soul from one consciousness to another, and my last act of life was to trade my own existence for that of Darkseid in order to avenge a lover who did me dirty."

"I'll take it," Mozenrath said. "I'm guessing Felix wasn't the most appreciative when it came to having you as an apprentice."

"Apprentice," Tala seethed. "Always, he undersells! I was more than his apprentice!" She smirked. "He was my lover. Not the one I summoned Darkseid for. Different one. I gave him all I had…" She gestured up and down her body. "Which, as you can see, is quite a lot. And in return…" A dramatic sigh. "All he ever gave me was disappointment, in so many ways."

"I'm not here to hear about your bedroom life," Mozenrath told her. "See, I actually CAN necromance without trading in my own life – at least not all of it at once – and I'm giving you a second shot. You join me and my syndicate, Firefly realizes I was right and he was wrong, and your magic bolsters our operation."

"Deal," Tala said. "After all, you are most intriguing. So young, so handsome…" She leaned forward, gently pressing a hand to Mozenrath's chest. "So mysterious and dark – "

"HE IS TAKEN," the Huntsman seethed as Mozenrath batted her hand away.

Well, at least they hadn't thrown her to the ground. That was unfortunately the bar. "I see," Tala purred. "I suppose I can't blame you. After all, he is so big and strong…I could not resist either, if I hadn't known he was spoken for. And, I suppose, without any interest in women."

"Neither of us," Mozenrath affirmed.

"I am hearing there is some sort of incident involving a unicorn, however," Hämsterviel contributed.

"NO!" Mozenrath yelled at him, stomping a foot.

"We must hurry," the Huntsman stated. "In a matter of minutes, the old god will have made this world inhospitable."

"Oh, please." Tala waved a hand. "The Justice Leage will arrive at any moment to patch the hole in the sky and save the day. That is how it always works."

"I understand the sentiment," Mozenrath replied, "though this might be the one time it works in our favor. Before we go – "

"BEFORE WE GO?" Hämsterviel was literally hopping mad. "WHAT IS THIS, 'BEFORE WE GO'? THERE IS NO MORE TIME! WE GO NOW!"

"Is there anyone else?" Mozenrath asked Tala. "Anyone else we should recruit who can further our cause?"

"Most blackhearted scoundrels on this planet are aligned either with Lex Luthor or Gorilla Grodd, after the fact as it may seem," Tala informed him. "Neither will give up the loyalties so easily. The only reason I do so is because both have wronged me so horribly. You will not wrong me horribly, will you?"

"Help me prove this point to Firefly and you get whatever you want," Mozenrath told her. Then his eyes widened as he thought about the implications given recent events; "NO, WAIT! NO, NO, NO, NOT WHATEVER YOU WANT! YOU DON'T ENTER MY BED, I DON'T ENTER YOUR BED, AND WE DON'T DO ANYTHING LIKE THAT ON ANYTHING THAT ISN'T A BED!"

"Firefly?" Tala cocked her head. "That lowest of the low, flavorless street thug?"

"…I am going to admit this ONCE and ONLY ONCE," Mozenrath growled. "NOT YOUR FIREFLY. DIFFERENT FIREFLY. Apparently BETTER Firefly. But you're saying no one will give up either of those two people you mentioned who I honestly can't be bothered to remember – "

A flaming meteorite crashed quite near the entrance to the alley. "HURRY!" the Huntsman bellowed.

"…Maybe one," Tala realized. "He turned up for the introductory meeting of the Legion of Doom, then immediately bowed out long before the schism could take place. Not right in the head. Prone to panic attacks and night terrors, always humming the same song. But I always thought that was a pity, as he had the most unique powers. I can take you to him, if you like."

"NOW," Mozenrath demanded.

"Why are men always the same?" Tala lamented to herself. "Even the homosexual ones. So bossy to a woman."

Before anyone could retort, Tala transported all of them across the city, into the hallowed halls of one Arkham Asylum.

Once Wuya realized that she, Yzma, Zevon, Jack, Draco, and Peter had arrived on a beach, she instantly transfigured her and Yzma's ensembles so that both were wearing their favorite swimsuits, though this time accompanied by transparent scarves, glittering wraps, rhinestone-studded sandals, dark sunglasses, and sun hats that were altogether too large and gaudy.

"Oh, I see how it is," Jack grumbled. "No cute swimsuits for the rest of us."

"Wh…why do you WANT one?" Draco asked in confusion. "No, never mind – don't answer."

"At finalast!" Zevon crowed. "A world where I can locationalize the Corona Pearl without the interruption of countlessness other crystals!" He retrieved the compass.

"Oh, this is going to be delicious when it drops," Wuya muttered.

"SHOW ME!" Zevon bellowed.

The compass needle pointed.

"AHA!" Zevon pointed in the same direction. "Just past that woman! …Who seems to be wearing a pearl of her own. COULD IT BE THE CORONA PEARL? No, but WAIT! – THAT WOMAN OVER THERE IS WEARING ONE ALSO!"

Zevon's finger darted among many of the people passing by on the beach – all of whom had oddly pale pastel skin tones not normally found on humans, and all of whom bore a pearl somewhere on her body.

"And here it comes," Wuya muttered.

"Wait." Zevon lowered his hand. "Why are there so many pearls in the way of the pearl I am seekening?"

"Because this is the Geode Galaxy," Wuya explained. "Gems are alive here. Everyone you just pointed at isn't wearing a pearl; she IS a Pearl."

"WHAT?" Zevon screamed. "I HAVE COME ALL THIS WAY TO PURLOCATE THE PEARL OF THE CORONA AURORA, AND MY SENSE OF DIRECTIONING IS BEING CONFUSIONED BY LIVING ROCKS?"

From behind them, a sudden voice: "That was a scream most wonderful!"

The group spun to see a tiny Gem, only about knee-high to Zevon, skin toned a bright blue, gem set in her forehead, wearing winter clothes that seemed altogether too hot for this climate. She gave a smug little smile.

"Er…how much did you hear?" Yzma asked.

"Everything," the little Larimar replied. "You are going to capture a Pearl? Yes?"

"How much can we pay you to pretend you never heard that?" Wuya asked.

Little Larimar pointed to Yzma's scarf. "I like that piece of human clothes."

"Take it!" Yzma shoved the diaphanous garment at her. "Now GET OUT!"

"Such wonderful screams," Little Larimar repeated as she skipped off happily, Yzma's scarf tied around her thicker white mainstay.

"I rather like her," Peter mused.

"You would," Yzma said dryly.

"I DECOMMAND WE RETURN TO THE PROBLEM AT HAND!" Zevon yelled.

"And I 'decommand' you bring your voice down," Draco spat. "Unless you want to bring thirty more eavesdroppers 'round to hear all about how we're going to take down one of their own."

So Zevon went to a whisper: "How am I supposed to determinate which one is the Corona Pearl?"

"Is the Corona Pearl even going to be alive here?" Jack wondered. "Is that how the rules work?"

Wuya shrugged; "Beats me. I'd just be ready for anything."

"Well," Peter surmised, "it seems to me that if we simply begin to look around in any direction, there can be no time wasted."

"Just follow the bloody compass," Draco sighed. "Sure, it'll point us to a few false starts, but we dispose of them and move on."

"Killing Curse won't work here, by the way," Wuya told Draco. "None of the Unforgivables will, actually. Not unless you use them on a human."

"What?" Draco flinched.

"Gems are light projections," Wuya stated. "The actual BEING is the gemstone itself. The body is just a perception of how the Gem sees herself. They can feel pain, have their minds rewired, and even shatter, but none of your magic is going to do that unless you happen to Flipendo the stone so hard against a rock that it breaks."

"THEN WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO HERE?" Draco yelled.

"NOW YOU'RE THE ONE SCREAMING!" Zevon pointed out.

"EVERYBODY STOP YELLING!" Jack screeched, louder and higher than both of them.

"What are you supposed to do?" Yzma repeated to Draco. "Moral support for my son. That's all."

"I have a feeling this is just going to be the most wonderful adventure!" Peter declared. "Don't you all think so?"

This was met with a chorus of groans.

"You may think that way now," Peter said cryptically, "but by the end, we'll all be having fun. I can tell. It's something in the air."

"I don't have time for FUN!" Zevon growled through gritted teeth, storming forward stiffly. "I want my GEM!"

Wuya playfully nudged Yzma; "Wonder where he got THAT walk from."

Yzma shrugged. "Beats me."

Wuya simply stared at her until she realized; "Oh. Oh, that's how I walk when I'm in a snit, isn't it?"

"Let's just get a bloody move on…" Draco muttered, walking after Zevon.

Yzma and Wuya followed. Before taking so much as a step, Jack told Peter, "You know, I actually think you're right. Something about this place feels like it actually could be…nice. Not that I want to lose track of our evil goal for ultimate power, but if fun happens…well, then, it happens."

"I thought you'd think so," Peter told him with a grin.

Then the two of them set off, Jack at a brisk walk (and contemplating if it was too soon to break out his propellers) and Peter cartwheeling leisurely.

"Okay, where is he?"

Firefly paced back and forth down the alley. "He makes such a big deal out of us showing up, and then he's LATE."

"Didn't he leave before us?" Irmaplotz asked as she watched Firefly pace. "Because that takes talent. Maybe he just got lost?"

"Fine. I'll do a quick sweep. Wait here."

So Irmaplotz did. She summoned up a small book, and barely had time to get through the disastrously exposition-laden prologue of her latest horrid-literature conquest before Firefly had landed back in the alley.

"Made the rounds," he reported. "Either he's not here, or he is REALLY well-hidden."

"It's Mozenrath," Irmaplotz told him. "That man can't walk into a room without putting all eyes on him."

"Point. That's it. I'm calling him."

So he flipped up his helmet and dialed Mozenrath on his scroll, muttering under his breath, "This had better be incredibly good."

The moment the line connected, Mozenrath's voice came across: "WHERE. ARE. YOU?"

"Where am I?" Firefly replied indignantly. The nerve. "Where the heck are YOU? I've been flying all over!"

Mozenrath sighed. "I'm on top of the GothCorp headquarters on 27th and Main. Now, if you'll – "

"That's not where GothCorp is."

"Yes…it…is," Mozenrath snarled. "I know…because…I'm STANDING ON IT."

Quickly, Firefly launched himself into the air (not pleasant when his helmet was open like that; he was sure he felt a couple of his namesakes splatter against his face). There was the skyscraper in question, right in view. With an empty roof.

"What is it you're more sure about?" Firefly asked. "The building or the address?"

"BOTH, BECAUSE I WASN'T WRONG ABOUT EITHER OF THEM."

"Looking at GothCorp right now, Righty. You're not there."

And the rest is history.

"CALL WHEN YOU HAVE THE RIDDLER," Mozenrath growled before hanging up.

"Wh – you – the – uuugggh, I give up." Firefly descended, settling his helmet in place.

Once he reached square one, he addressed Irmaplotz, drawing her attention away from her horrible novel yet again; "You're not gonna believe this."

"Can I guess first?"

"Sure. Just say the least believable thing you can think of."

"That Mozenrath got the number swapped of the world he was supposed to end up on, and he's on the 24th world instead of the 42nd."

"That is…" Firefly was reluctant to confirm it. "That is exactly what happened."

"Get out."

"And he is determined to convince me that I am not the one in the wrong Gotham."

"How is Mozenrath that dumb?" Irmaplotz asked. "No, wait – don't answer that."

There was a long silence before Irmaplotz ventured, "So…I know we're supposed to pick up this Ed Nygma guy, but – "

Then she paused. "Ed Nygma," she repeated. "Enigma. I JUST got that."

"Yeah, it's the bane of everyone's existence here in Gotham," Firefly sighed. "That and the fact that Freeze's last name was actually Fries before he froze."

"Wait, what? It was froze before he freezed?"

"No, Froze's name was freezer, and he frozen – okay, STOP. You're contagious."

"But speaking of Frozen," Irmaplotz continued.

"Freeze," Firefly corrected. "I…think? What did you do to me?"

"No one said we had to go pick up the Enigma FIRST," Irmaplotz reminded Firefly. "Sooooo…we could totally just go wreck Frazee's lair of the week, and Frozenrath would never have to know what freezed us so long."

"I'm gonna pretend that came out at all coherently and say I like the way you think."

It didn't take them long to track down Mr. Freeze's new habitat. His scheme: freezing Gotham's natural gas supply solid, halting production of electricity, and holding the city's power hostage in exchange for a hefty ransom. That planted him, so to speak, in the midst of the power plant.

He'd certainly given it a makeover. As Firefly and Irmaplotz slipped into the building, using controlled heat and magic to disable the alarms and locks, they were greeted with ice lining the walls and bulging out in tiny icebergs, as though waiting to sink them both.

The back hallways were narrow, twisting, constricting. Irmaplotz thought it was a nice aesthetic, really, if you were going for being as uncomfortable as possible. But villains like herself and Firefly should be used to that, should welcome that. So it surprised her to hear her companion say "Wait…I need a minute" and stop, leaning against one of the frosted walls, helmet pulled away from his sweating face. Sweating, in the midst of all this cold.

Something was wrong.

"What's going on?" Irmaplotz approached gently.

"I forgot," Garfield panted, not daring to meet her gaze. "This place…it's just like…someplace I almost ruined everything. When I wasn't myself."

"We don't have to do this," Irmaplotz said softly.

"No, we do," Garfield insisted softly. "I need to do this."

"Was he involved?"

"No. I almost wish he was." Garfield gave a sardonic cough of a laugh. "Then I might be able to kill my demons along with him, right? No. This one was on me." A long pause. "I almost destroyed this whole city. Harley and Peter included."

"Why would you do that?" Irmaplotz asked.

"I WASN'T ME," Garfield insisted. "Or maybe I was, or – I don't know. It was – there was a lot going on in my head. It still hasn't quieted down all the way."

"So wait," Irmaplotz realized. "Our plan right here is to – "

"Yeah."

"That could potentially make it a lot worse."

"I know."

"And you still wanna go through with it?"

Garfield swallowed down a sizeable lump, nodding his head. "If…if I can do this…and keep it controlled, without hurting you…then I'll know…that I'm better." He pried himself off the wall. "I'm good now. Let's go." He settled his helmet down over his face once more.

Irmaplotz hovered at his side as they began to move again; "If you turn out to be wrong about that, you'll let me know, right?"

"If I turn out to be wrong about this, you might actually die."

"That's the great thing about necromancers. If you kill me by accident, Mozenrath can just un-kill me. It's no big. Everybody does a little accidental murder sometimes."

"Pretty sure they don't, but I appreciate it anyway."

At last they came upon the chamber where Freeze was at work. His back was turned to them as he faced the central pump, admiring his scheme's fruit. "Target in sight," Firefly whispered.

"How do you wanna play this?" Irmaplotz asked. "Stealth assassination?"

"Actually…let's do this like WHAM ARMY."

Irmaplotz knew exactly what that meant.

The first thing Freeze heard was a cry of "FREEZE!". He whipped around to see a blaze of yellow hurtling toward him brightly, several spheres of sickly green magic on its tail.

Throwing out a hand, Freeze made a wall that curved toward Firefly; the speedster rammed into it, thrown back out by its curve, as all of Irmaplotz's projectiles bounced harmlessly off.

"Okay, so I think we might have to clear some things up here?" Irmaplotz realized as she reached the center of the room. "We meant your name, not that you should freeze. But even if we did, you did a REALLY BAD JOB AT FOLLOWING INSTRUCTIONS."

"Why would I go cold in the face of a pilot light?" Freeze taunted, smashing through his own wall to join the battle proper.

He then found himself dancing out of the way of several shots from Firefly from above; "YOU BROKE MY HEART, SO I'M GONNA MELT YOUR FROZEN ONE!"

"To be clear!" Irmaplotz piped up. "He means that he'll destroy it, not that he'll make you show your soft side!"

"I UNDERSTAND!" Freeze yelled.

"HE UNDERSTANDS!" Firefly cried at the same time. Then: "WHA – DON'T SAY STUFF IN SYNC WITH ME! YOU LOST THAT RIGHT WHEN YOU THREW ME INTO A WALL!"

Freeze readied his hands, miniature blizzards of white swirling around them, to retaliate, but had his train of thought suddenly derailed as a soft object hit him in the back of the ice that covered his head. He whirled to see a tiny rubber duck, lime green, on the floor, and a rather sheepish Irmaplotz looking at him.

"That was supposed to be a truck," Irmaplotz said with a shrug. "The incantation was to call a TRUCK to hit you. Oh, well. Duck works."

A cascade of pastel rubber birds enveloped Freeze, squeaking adorably. This drew his attention long enough for Firefly to land several hard burns on him. The ice casing around his face began to run, water sloshing down as patches of his skin became exposed to the air.

The mountain of rubber birds around Freeze immediately froze over, then exploded into shards that destroyed them entirely.

"MY CUTE DUCKIES!" Irmaplotz cried in horror. She then clenched her teeth, a prominent vein bulging in her forehead; "You. Will. PAY."

She spun, danced, threw her arms toward Freeze. A massive saw blade went spinning through the air toward him.

"DANGIT!" she screamed. "THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE 'CLAW'!"

"SAW IS BETTER!" Firefly informed her from above.

Freeze ducked barely in time; the saw cut through one of the tubes on his containment suit, releasing a blast of frigid air and melting his ice casing still further. The blade then embedded itself in the wall. "WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF THIS?" Freeze growled, turning to let out a blizzard blast toward Firefly.

Only a weak puff of chill came from his hand.

"PURPOSE?" Firefly called down. "YOU WANNA KNOW WHY I'M DOING THIS? TAKE A GUESS."

"Also," Irmaplotz told Freeze, "eyes on me."

She threw a jump rope at him.

"THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A MACE AND I HAVE NO IDEA HOW THIS HAPPENED," she cried. Then, shrugging, she cracked a second jump rope like a whip, lighting it on fire and rushing to use it to combat what little cold Freeze had left.

"YOU MADE ME GO OFF THE MARKET FOR A YEAR!" Firefly yelled. "YOU MADE ME AFRAID TO LOVE ANYONE! YOU MADE ME SPEND A YEAR NOT GOING AFTER THE PERSON I ACTUALLY LOVED BECAUSE I KEPT THINKING ABOUT YOU!"

"IF YOU FELL FOR ME," Freeze seethed while dodging Irmaplotz's makeshift whip, "THAT IS YOUR OWN PROBLEM! I DID NOT WANT IT! MY HEART IS FROZEN!"

"WELL, NOT EVERYONE ELSE'S IS, AND FOR SUCH A COLDHEARTED GUY, YOU'RE STUPIDLY HOT! MAYBE BE AWARE OF THAT NEXT TIME YOU PARTNER UP WITH A VILLAIN, HUH?"

A low chuckle, and Freeze said, "I can assure you he does not care."

"What?" Irmaplotz and Firefly said as one.

From the ceiling, a host of lime-green cannons turned, seeking Firefly's heat. They set off a laser-light show of hot energy, forcing Firefly to make a quick dive for safety behind the turbine.

Meanwhile, a great green metal box with a question mark painted on it in shimmering gold dropped down atop Irmaplotz, temporarily trapping her.

"Heh," Firefly chuckled, "are you so out of ideas that you had to steal aesthetic from the Rid…oh, no."

From the shadows, he stalked; the tall, lanky man with drooping dark hair, wielding a scepter fashioned with a question mark as its tip. "Firefly's killer had four victims," the Riddler stated with a malicious grin. "North, South, East, and who was the fourth?"

Irmaplotz ripped through the box, yelling, "TIM!"

That got everyone in the room to go silent for a solid fifteen seconds.

"What?" Irmaplotz asked. "Is that not the answer? It's for the other one, too. 'What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs during the day, and three at night?' The answer is Tim. Tim is weird."

"SERIOUSLY?" Firefly yelled, pointing back and forth between Freeze and Riddler. "YOU TWO? YOU'RE TEAMING UP NOW?"

"What costs nothing, but is worth everything?" the Riddler chuckled. "Weighs nothing, but can last a lifetime? One person cannot own it, yet two or more can share it?"

"If you think he's gonna be your friend," Firefly told him, "then you're the one falling for it. Freeze doesn't make FRIENDS. He hires TOOLS."

"I know," the Riddler replied. "But it held your attention, didn't it?"

Freeze had reconnected his tubing, sending a massive blast of ice to Firefly that rocketed him toward the pump that held the frozen gas. Gas that had been frozen, anyhow. Firefly had also been relying on a diversion: Irmaplotz. He'd been heating up the mechanism, and now the gas inside was volatile, liquid, ready to blow. So close to it, he could almost hear its sloshing like a throbbing heartbeat.

Don't. Don't do it. Don't do it.

And maybe he couldn't.

"Your heat burned you out, Phosphorus," Freeze said threateningly.

"Will you reactivate the memories you would rather not relive?" the Riddler taunted, leaning over his question-mark staff, its base planted on the ground and both his hands on the curve of the punctuation mark. "Will you risk the girl? The same way you risked Miss Blazedale?"

Blaze – not Blaze – Peter – the city – the reactor – he couldn't – too loud inside his head –

"Um, EXCUSE ME?" Irmaplotz broke in. "See, this is what I hate about you villain types and how you deal with princesses. You always think you can just take the princess hostage to bother the knight in armor, AND YOU NEVER STOP TO SEE WHAT THE PRINCESS HAS TO SAY ABOUT IT."

Forgoing magic, she simply tackled the Riddler, swiping his scepter and using it to beat him in the face.

"Freeze - !" the Riddler yelled as Irmaplotz continued her assault. "Help me!"

"Help yourself," Freeze grumbled.

"Now, Firefly's not gonna say he told you so," Irmaplotz said, "because he's having a traumatic flashback. But I will: FIREFLY! TOLD! YOU! SO!" A whack on each word.

And all Firefly could do was watch. He couldn't hurt her, couldn't let her get hurt, so much gas, so much heat, she wouldn't survive, he had to abandon the plan –

Riddler caught the scepter with one fist. Maneuvered his finger to press a button. A fine green mist poured forth from the implement; Irmaplotz inhaled it and immediately fell still, eyes rolling back into her head.

The Riddler peeled himself up. "I suppose you are to call me cold," Freeze posed.

The Riddler shrugged. "I expected as much from you, really."

"Then you are not a melted glacier as Firefly is," Freeze stated. He then covered Irmaplotz in a thin layer of ice before withdrawing a small metal wand from his bodysuit.

The sight of that wand flipped Firefly's mind like a switch. If Freeze touched it to Irmaplotz, she would shatter. Nothing that Mozenrath couldn't fix, and yet –

His heat burned right through his icy casing. He pounced down on Irmaplotz, melting her shell, gathering her into his arms. Then pointed a single gauntlet at the reactor.

"Feel the burn," Firefly growled.

Irmaplotz woke to the sound of a booming explosion at the edge of her consciousness and the sensation of the cold wind blowing at her face and hair. It took her a moment to realize she was being carried by Firefly, who was rocketing her into the Gotham sky, far, far away from the power plant that he'd ended up blowing up as planned.

"Wha…" Irmaplotz muttered.

"Good," Firefly told her. "You're okay."

"Mostly. I might have a broken toe now. But it can wait. What happened back there?"

"Everything went according to plan, pretty much," Firefly told her. "Freeze is ice cubes, but unfortunately, the Riddler's dead meat."

"Mozenrath is NOT gonna be happy about that one."

"No, he is not."

"Would you have abandoned the plan if you'd known?"

"No."

"Good." Irmaplotz smiled. "Hey."

"What?"

"You did it. You pulled off a destructive bombing without hurting the person you cared about. You're getting better after all."

"Heh…yeah," Firefly said softly. "You're right."

He landed them atop a skyscraper from which they could watch the fireworks continuing to spew from the power plant grounds. "Let's just get this part over with," Firefly sighed, removing his helmet once more to access his scroll.

Mozenrath didn't pick up this time. Once his voicemail kicked in, Firefly said quickly, "Heyyyy, Righty! So, bad news: Riddler took a hard pass. His choice. He's not gonna be joining us. So, uh, I guess you win. Whoop-dee-doo! Irma and I are just gonna take a little vay-cay time 'cause we deserve it. See you when we do."

As he hung up, Irmaplotz repeated, "Irma?"

"Better than 'Four-Eyes.'"

"Garfield…" Irmaplotz's eyes glistened. "You really are like the big brother I never had!"

"No, I'm not." He reached out, ruffled her hair with a gloved hand. "I'm the big brother you do have. Right now. But if you don't mind doing me a solid, we need to get out of dodge until Righty forgets to ask what happened with Nygma."

"I mean, our boyfriends are both at Beach City," Irmaplotz reminded him. "Which, judging by the name, is on a beach and also a city. Could be fun times."

"Good enough for me," Firefly replied.

She cast the Corridor, and they made tracks.

"Whoa!" Sora cried as he set foot on the docks of Jang Hui, the floating river village on the edge of the Fire Nation. "This place is so pretty!"

"It wasn't always this way," Katara told him. "When I first came here, the river was poisoned, and the people were suffering." She smiled, watching children run across the docks to play tag. "It was really nothing like this."

"But that's when you went all Painted Lady, right?" Sora recalled. "That was so cool!"

"LIKE A SUPERHERO!" Papyrus added.

"Wait a minute," XR broke in. "What's all this Painted Lady stuff?"

"Katara played hero to this town by dressing up as the local spirit guardian at night and getting food and other stuff the people needed," Sora explained.

"And you're telling me this NOW?" XR cried. He then shot up next to Katara, telescoping his legs to match her height; "Listen. I'm not saying I have a guest spot in the next issue of XR: Robot Ranger for a spunky heroine with a heart of gold, and that I'd pay you a cut of the royalties for the appearance of said heroine, but if I did…"

"The Painted Lady isn't for sale," Katara grunted. "She's special to these people."

"Suit yourself." XR shrugged. "If anyone else wants to take the offer, it's open."

"I think we're good," Rosalina said with a smile.

"Whaddaya think?" Ven nudged Aqua with his elbow. "It's all surrounded by water. Like you."

Aqua smiled. "It's beautiful. You really helped make it something wonderful, Katara."

"I only really started the chain," Katara admitted. "It was everyone else here who pitched in to clean up the river and make it habitable."

"And now, the Fire Lord and the Avatar are finishing the job on the political level," Rosalina recalled. "It's good to know they care enough about their people to act."

"Hey!" Sora cried, pointing. "Isn't that them over there?" He broke into a run, waving; "AANG! ZUKO!"

Two familiar figures carried baskets of fresh fish across the dock network. The shorter of the two dropped his basket right there on the wood, hurtling across the dock toward his greeter; "SORA!"

Sora and Aang clasped hands into a firm dual fist. "It's so good to see you!" Sora laughed.

"How've you been?" Aang chirped. "What adventures did you go on? Did you see cool things? Do cool things?"

"AANG!" Zuko cried in frustration, trying to find a way to take the dropped basket into his arms. "We were doing a job!"

"I'll help." Aqua strode toward Zuko, hefting up the basket. "Where are we taking this?"

"To the storehouse downtown," Zuko explained.

"AANG!" Papyrus broke in. "WE HAVE BROUGHT SOMEONE YOU WILL CERTAINLY BE VERY EXCITED TO SEE!" He stepped to the side, gesturing to Katara as though he were a game show host showing off a prize.

Aang's face broke into a sunny smile. "KATARA!"

"Hi, Aang," Katara said softly.

They approached each other gingerly, as if trying to figure out exactly how to greet each other. Then Aang, all of a sudden, enveloped Katara in a hug he'd been deliberating on, and after a stiff pause, Katara wrapped her own arms around him. "It's good to be back," Katara muttered.

"HMM…" Papyrus began to take mental notes.

Then they backed away from each other, staring each other in the eye for a good half-minute before Aang said, "Zuko and I are helping put Jang Hui back on track! We've banned any more industrial construction on the river and helped relocate a lot of the processing facilities. Now we're distributing rations until the fish population can grow again! Come look!" He grabbed Katara by the hand, dragging her along after Zuko and Aqua; Katara laughed nervously.

This, in turn, drew out a much longer "HMMMMMM…" from Papryus before the skeleton fell in step.

The whole group moved in the direction of the storehouse. "So," Zuko asked, "who're your new friends?"

"Well, you know Sora and Papyrus," Katara explained. "That's Aqua. She's…not exactly a waterbender, but she knows a lot of water magic."

"A thing or two," Aqua affirmed with a nod.

"And Aqua's friend, Ven," Katara went on, "though sometimes, he's more like her aggravating little brother."

"Heyyyy!" Ven groaned.

"She's not wrong," Aqua chuckled, and Ven had to laugh, too.

"Rosalina is a princess from outer space," Katara continued. "She watches over all the worlds and helps the stars grow up."

"That's so cool!" Aang cried.

"Oh, that reminds me." Zuko smiled. "Speaking of space, Aang and I were combing over the battlefield to patch up leftover destruction from the war, and we happened to find something your brother probably wants back."

"You found Space Sword?" Katara gaped. "Sokka's going to be so happy!"

"Aaaand while we're on the subject of outer space – " XR muscled his way in between Zuko and Aqua. "XR, Robot Ranger. Intergalactic and interdimensional defender against injustice and villainy."

"Yeah, right," Katara scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You also COMMIT injustice and villainy every now and again, right?"

"Only a healthy amount!" XR argued.

"Whoa!" Aang gaped. "Are you…made of metal?"

"Sure thing," XR affirmed. "What, you've never seen a robot before?"

"Uh…" Aang shook his head. "No. I haven't."

"AUDIBLE GASP!" XR cried. "You poor, sheltered creature."

"I'm not sheltered!" Aang argued. "I've been everywhere in the world!"

"Yes, well, I've been everywhere on multiple worlds and then some," XR replied. "No need to get jealous; not everyone can live the glamorous life of a Space Ranger."

"Hmm," Aqua mused. "I wonder if the average Space Ranger sees more of the worlds than the galaxy princess."

Rosalina let out a bell-like laugh.

"Are you all from different worlds?" Aang asked.

"Mostly," Aqua explained. "Ven and I are from the same place…sort of."

"I travel most of the time," Rosalina added.

"Official property – I mean agent of Star Command," XR contributed.

"So what about you?" Aqua asked, looking from Zuko to Aang. "Katara said you two were pretty important around here."

"I'm the Avatar!" Aang chirped. "My name's Aang. Not to brag, but I'm kind of the person who brought peace to the four nations."

"I like this kid already!" XR cried.

"And that's Zuko!" Aang continued. "He's the new Fire Lord, and he's really helped patch up the Fire Nation after all the bad stuff that happened to it!"

"So if Zuko is fire," Ven mused, "and Katara is water…"

"I'm an airbender," Aang said, attempting to brag but unable to keep the wistfulness from his voice. "I'm…the last one, actually."

"Air, huh?" Ven repeated. "I've heard that my name means 'wind.'"

"Are you an airbender, too?" Aang's face lit up. "Or an air magician?"

"Watch this!" Ven pointed his Keyblade out over the docks; "WIND!"

A gust of Aerora spiraled out over the river water, stirring it up quite a bit.

"AWESOME!" Aang cheered.

"So…did something happen to the other airbenders?" Ven inquired.

"Ven," Aqua said sharply.

"Sorry," Ven muttered.

"No, it's okay," Aang sighed. "During the war, they were all…"

He wasn't able to finish. "Oh," Ven realized. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault," Aang told him.

"I'm sensing a big story of epic heroics here," XR mused. "How did one sole airbender, at such a tender age, manage to escape the genocide?"

"It was an accident," Aang revealed. "I got frozen in ice for a hundred years. It was weird, waking up and the whole world wasn't what I knew anymore."

"…Actually, I know what that feels like," Ven admitted. "I was only out for ten years, but the place where I grew up is gone, and so many of the worlds have changed in so many ways."

"YOU TWO SEEM TO HAVE A LOT IN COMMON," Papyrus observed. "SLEEPING THROUGH HISTORY, POWER OVER WIND…"

"I think they were meant to be friends," Sora declared.

"So why'd you come back?" Aang asked Katara. "Is it to stay?"

"Actually, it's more like the other way around," Katara explained. "Things are getting more complicated out there, and I thought maybe, if we got the whole gang back together, we could all help."

"AWESOME!" Aang cried. "I wanna see all your guys's worlds!"

"We don't have time," Zuko insisted. "This isn't the only city we still have to help here."

"But Sokka and Toph wrote in to say their missions were going well," Aang reminded him. "I'm not sure this world needs our help as much as it did when Katara left."

"Either way, I'm still Fire Lord," Zuko grunted. "You might be able to run off and travel all the worlds, but my place is here."

"Oh," Aang realized. "That's right. It would be kinda sad to go without you."

"I might be able to figure something out in that regard, actually," Rosalina broke in. "There may be a way to link our worlds together so that Zuko does not have far to travel, and does not have to be away from his throne for long."

"That'd be so cool!" Aang cried. "I wouldn't wanna do this adventure without him!"

"But you and Katara were split up for so long," Sora reminded him. "You're still close. Wouldn't it be the same with Zuko? Only…not as romantic?"

Aang and Katara went silent, aware of just how sweaty their still-clasped hands were. "Uh…yeah," Aang said quickly. "But I missed Katara so much."

"I did, too!" Katara chimed in. "I mean – I missed Aang. A lot."

Papyrus' "HMMMMMMMMMMM" cut through the air.

"Somethin' to say, bonehead?" XR asked.

"NO," Papyrus told him. "I'M ONLY HMM-ING. CARRY ON."

Ven looked to Papyrus with admiration. The skeleton seemed to have a grasp on what was making this situation so awkward, though Ven himself wasn't quite sure. He made a mental note to tell Papyrus later how impressive his talent of being a friend was.

"Well, now you won't have to miss each other!" Sora asserted. "What about Sokka and Toph? We should find them, too."

"They're spread out," Zuko explained. "Sokka and Suki are clearing out remnants of Ozai loyalists in Omashu, and Toph is helping rebuild Gaipan after its flooding."

"WHY WOULD THE FIRE NATION FLOOD A VILLAGE?" Papyrus wondered out loud.

"That one wasn't on the Fire Nation," Katara growled.

"We can make a big field trip to bring them all together!" Aang crowed.

"Yeah!" Sora agreed. "Sounds like fun!"

"And so," XR narrated, "the intrepid yet motley band of heroes decided to set out upon their quest of epic proportions! All the while bolstered by the whimsical banter of their beloved mascot!"

That actually did get a smile out of everyone.

"I still can't go," Zuko asserted. "There's too much to do here, and if the Fire Lord goes absent, then things fall apart."

"THEN WE SHALL HAVE TO GO PICK UP THE OTHERS WITHOUT YOU," Papyrus decided, "AND MEET UP WITH YOU AGAIN WHEN WE COME BACK. THEN WE CAN TALK ABOUT ROSALINA'S BIG PLAN!"

"Oh." Aang pouted. "Well, it'll still be fun."

"Especially because you get to catch up with Katara!" Sora insisted.

"Yeah!" both Aang and Katara said hastily.

"Is something – " Aqua began to ask.

Papyrus, not ready to have his master plan exposed at this stage, interrupted her; "I THINK I SEE THE WAREHOUSE! LOOK! WE'RE NEARLY THERE! THAT WAS A FUN WALK!"

"It's still five docks down," Zuko groaned.

"OH, WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT?" Papyrus babbled on. "I WAS WRONG. THAT HAPPENS SOMETIMES, IF RARELY. WHAT KIND OF FISH ARE THOSE IN THE BASKETS? THEY LOOK DELICIOUS!"

Aqua realized Papyrus was preventing her from prodding the emotional situation on purpose, and she had half a mind to tell him to knock it off. But when she turned to look at him, and saw the admiration on Ven's face while regarding the skeleton, she recalled that being blunt hadn't always gotten her the best results in the past. Nor had insisting her instincts were more valid than those of others.

This time, she would trust.

The group managed to keep up a conversation about fish all the way to the warehouse – Sora telling woes of trying to fish barehanded on the Islands, XR rambling on about a world called "Bathyos" that was populated by sentient fish, Rosalina recalling the strangest waters in which she'd seen fish thrive – at which point they turned in their baskets and began to draw up a map of where they would need to go to find Sokka, Suki, and Toph.

Aang never let go of Katara's hand. Almost as if he were afraid to.

It was almost picture-perfect. The two walked along the beach, one on the side of the tide line so that his boots splashed in the water and the other leaving delicate prints in the sand. Their hands were clasped loosely, swinging a bit in enjoyment of the moment.

"You know," Demyx remarked, turning his face up to the sun, "I really feel in my element here."

"It's no Southern Isles," Hans added, "and I mean that in the worst way possible – I mean, have you seen this primitive architecture?"

"I know! Tell me about it!"

"But it is peaceful," Hans sighed. "A person could spend a lot of time just chilling out here with his boyfriend before infiltrating society and rotting it from the inside out."

"Like you read my mind."

"AHEM."

Gothel's throat-clearing reminded them. "Right," Hans grunted. "THEY'RE still here."

"We are here for a reason," Doom reminded them, "and that reason was not for romantic dalliances."

"Um, WE'RE here because the bossy ice guy made us come," Demyx reminded him.

"You know, I missed this," Flurious realized. "Having someone idiotic to use and abuse…it almost makes me nostalgic for…no, I'm not going to say it. I'm never going to look back."

"Can we stop with the whole 'Demyx is an idiot' thing?" Demyx rolled his eyes. "I'm smarter than most of you here. Not Doom. Doom is way above my level. And I'm smart enough to actually say that so he doesn't flay me alive."

"Diplomatic indeed," Doom confirmed.

"We must focus on the matter at hand," Flurious reminded the group. "I need my Corona Aurora gem!"

"Our Corona Aurora gem," Grimhilde corrected.

"Yes," Flurious sighed. "That. Whatever."

"And I need my Philosopher's Stone!" Gothel added in a growl before softening; "Aha – I mean OUR Philosopher's Stone."

"You are the only one with an interest in the Stone," Doom reminded her. "It is, in fact, yours and yours alone."

"Well, then, never mind," Gothel said. "I need my Stone, and you're all going to help me get it!"

"You know," Flurious realized, "your feistiness is rather…"

"Alluring?" Gothel filled in.

"The agent that makes you tolerable," Flurious concluded.

Gothel shrugged. "I'll take it."

"Now," Doom mused, "to locate the stone."

"I'm up, aren't I?" Demyx stated. "You want recon? You got recon." He cast his gaze about. "Though…I'm not about to do it on an empty stomach."

He halted, causing Hans to stumble from the lack of momentum. Hans turned to look at what Demyx had spotted. "Is that…?"

Doom, Grimhilde, Gothel, and Flurious all looked as well. The former three regarded the small, squat building with some confusion, but Flurious gasped as though he'd seen a ghost. "It can't be – "

"Oh, it is," Demyx affirmed, gesturing to the small shop known as The Big Donut, a large donut-shaped sign demonstrating its wares. "We're stopping for donuts."

"For what?" Gothel asked.

"To my understanding," Grimhilde told her, "a fried cake covered in cheap icing."

"Why would you want that?" Gothel asked.

"You've never had a DONUT?" Demyx realized. "Okay, learning experience for the team. Gothel's coming with."

"We do not all need to be present for a rations stop," Doom stated. "Furthermore, I can think of much more nutritional rations to be found…"

"Why don't we keep poking around out here to see what we can see while Dem and Gothel go pick up the donuts?" Hans suggested.

"I suppose…" Grimhilde mused. "If you must fill our pouches with fried cake…"

Gothel shuddered.

"Trust me," Demyx said as he strode toward the shop. "You're gonna love it."

He then halted, looking back at Flurious, who still appeared completely gobsmacked. "Uh, hello?" He waved in Flurious' face. "Beach City to Flurious? You okay there?"

"I did not expect to see it here," Flurious gasped. "All of the legends…all of the holy writings…they were true…"

"Now what?" Gothel sighed.

"In the reign of the Mystic Mother," Flurious explained, "before she turned all…disgustingly noble, she wrote of a sacred temple on planet Earth, one that created a holy foodstuff meant to power all of us brothers in villainy. It was called…the temple of Krispy Kreme."

"It is a donut shop," Doom said flatly.

"I REQUIRE ONE OF THESE 'DONUTS'!" Flurious suddenly raged, causing everyone but Doom to flinch. "IT IS NECESSARY FOR ME TO HAVE THE STRENGTH TO CARRY OUT THIS MISSION! THE DONUT SHALL INCREASE MY POWER TENFOLD!"

"I can see no logic will sway you," Doom sighed. "Very well. It appears we REQUIRE donuts."

"On it!" Demyx saluted, running off. "C'mon, Gothel! Learning experience!"

"You KNOW how I feel about the running ahead!" Gothel grunted, giving chase.

Flurious made to follow as well, but Doom put a heavy armored hand on his shoulder. "You are neither human nor gem," he reminded Flurious. "You will draw unwanted attention in such a small space."

"I suppose I shall have to trust the imbeciles to bring sustenance," Flurious sighed.

"In the meantime," Grimhilde mused, "how may we put our talents to use here?"

"I mean…we could shake down some of the locals," Hans suggested. "That, or I sweet-talk them. Like those two kids there."

He gestured to where a pair of very short Gems were taking a walk together, deep in conversation. The taller of the two (who was still only about waist-height to Hans) was a deep red Ruby, her gem located in place of one of her eyes, hair cut in a perfect orderly square. The shorter was a pale blue Aquamarine in a sharply pressed blouse and skirt, her gem manifesting below her eye as a teardrop.

"Go forth," Grimhilde bade Hans, "and find our answer."

Hans approached the Gems who he assumed to be children (they weren't) and said as sweetly as he could muster, "Hi! You look like a pair of smart kids. I'm new here. Could you give me some directions?"

"BACK OFF!" The Ruby (though many just knew her as "Eyeball," which distinguished her from other Rubies in her vicinity) skidded in front of Aquamarine, spreading out her arms. "Unless you wanna get beat up!"

"Hmph!" Aquamarine folded her arms, turning up her nose. "As if we've the time to spend directing lost humans around! Don't bother, Ruby."

"We've got very important plans, see?" Ruby shook a fist up at Hans. "We're gonna get revenge on – "

"Don't TELL him, you idiot!" Aquamarine growled.

"Oooookay." Hans clasped his hands together. "So…you two are rude. That's a starting point."

"Awww," Aquamarine mocked. "Too bad I don't care."

"Listen," Hans seethed. "I'm looking for information. I need to know where to find a Diamond – "

"THE TRAITORS!" Eyeball growled. "TURNING THEIR BACK ON THE ORDER THEY CREATED THAT GAVE US ALL A PURPOSE! HOW COULD THEY – "

"I am begging you, SHUT UP!" Aquamarine snapped. "HE doesn't need to know our grievances! For all we know, he's working for the Steven as one of his little 'friends'!"

"You know what?" Hans stepped back. "I'm done here. But I think MY friends might want a word with you."

Grimhilde and Doom flanked Flurious, who drew Thunder Edge from its sheath on his back. "Do you recognize this sword?" Flurious asked.

"No," Eyeball told him. "It's huge and tacky!"

"You'd never see a Gem sword with such shoddy craftsmanship," Aquamarine sighed.

"This is a divine blade," Flurious growled through gritted teeth, "and one of the few implements that can shatter a Gem permanently. Would you care to see how it works?"

"Uh…no thank you," Eyeball told him.

"That was a THREAT, you idiot!" Aquamarine groaned. "Why must I be plagued with such an inept companion?"

"Such seems to be our curse," Flurious sympathized. "But back to the matter at hand: you will tell us what we want to know…or you will taste this blade."

"It looks like it tastes gross," Eyeball commented.

"MUST YOU BE SO DENSE ALWAYS?" Aquamarine shrieked.

"INFORMATION!" Flurious barked. "NOW! WHERE IS THE DIAMOND?"

Aquamarine put her hands on her hips; a pair of wings made from water sprouted from her back, carrying her up like a butterfly. Once she was at Flurious' head-height, she jeered, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Flurious lost control, swinging the sparking sword. Aquamarine quickly dodged, in a bit more of a panic than she expected herself to be, and tumbled to the sand from loss of balance.

"AQUAMARINE!" Eyeball yelled, diving to protect her charge. "DON'T YOU TOUCH HER!"

All at once, both Gems were enveloped in a bright light. When Eyeball had landed on Aquamarine, their mutual desire for revenge had coalesced, allowing them to bond in a greater way than previously. Their forms melted, then melded; when the light subsided, what stood before the group was a new Gem, four-legged and water-winged, featuring Eyeball's gem-eye and Aquamarine's teardrop on a face mottled with blue and red beneath a bowl cut.

"Oh," the new Gem said in a voice that belonged to neither Eyeball nor Aquamarine, looking herself up and down. "Well, that's new."

"Which is in control?" Grimhilde asked.

"Both," Doom explained. "This is a Fusion. It looks to be Bluebird Azurite. See how both of their gems have transformed."

In the sunlight, the two gems on Bluebird's face shimmered – a prism of red, blue, and sea green.

"I'm afraid this is very bad news for you." Bluebird lifted herself into the air on her now more-powerful wings, reaching into her azurite-eye to draw from it a long, wickedly sharp blade. "Let's see your godly sword stand up to the will of two gems who are made of pure SPITE."

Flurious drew back Thunder Edge. Hans whipped his rapier from its scabbard. Grimhilde and Doom raised their hands, magic crackling in the air.

"Welcome to the Big Donut!" the pastry chef cried excitedly from behind the shop counter. "What can I get for you?"

"Let's see…" Demyx mulled over the menu. "Okay, so I'm feeling a Bismarck, a jelly Long John, and a cinnamon twist."

"That's half the party taken care of," Gothel mused.

"No," Demyx corrected (behind him, Bluebird had rained a thousand swords made of pure ice onto the field, tearing Hans' coattails to shreds). "Those are all for me. Now, for HANS – "

Gothel gave a light laugh; "Aren't you afraid of gaining any more weight than you already have?"

"Look," Demyx sighed, "if you're trying to body-shame me, you're working it on the wrong guy. I mean, we were both in the WHAM ARMY with a verifiable hippopotamus, and didn't you give up on him because he wouldn't have lost it if he got any younger?"

(Grimhilde and Flurious teamed up to rocket geysers of lightning at Bluebird, who sailed around every bolt with a taunt.)

"The point being," Demyx concluded, "it's reaaaaaally not about the food. Some people are just ugly. You and me, we aren't, so why don't we live a little?"

"…All right," Gothel relented. "I'll try your fried cakes."

"You weren't too enthused about the icing," Demyx recalled, "so I'm thinking you'd probably like a blueberry glaze better to start."

"I do enjoy berries…" Gothel agreed.

(Flurious and Bluebird's ice energies collided, forming an ever-growing jagged sculpture about to collapse under its own weight.)

"Now, Hans is a powdered sugar guy," Demyx went on. "He'll need the fluffiest donuts you've got, with just the sugar, nothing else. And don't let it touch the chocolate. That man does NOT deal in chocolate. Not since her royal bratness."

"What about for Doom?" Gothel asked.

"Huh," Demyx mused. "See, Doom, I feel like he's one of those guys who seems all high-and-mighty on the outside, but then on the inside, he secretly wants to have some fun, soooooo…" He snapped his fingers. "Jelly. Raspberry jelly donuts. No icing. Make it like him: boring on the outside, packs a punch on the inside."

"I think I see how this game is played," Gothel realized. "As for Grimhilde…"

(Hans had been frozen solid; Grimhilde was trying to dodge Bluebird's rapid attacks in order to melt him free.)

"She was not enticed by the traditional ones, either," Gothel recalled. "What is…off the beaten path?"

"Fritters," Demyx told her. "Definitely fritters. You want apricot, apple, or zucchini?"

"Apple," Gothel decided. "Poetic irony, you know."

"Ooh, good call."

(Doom had punched Bluebird across the beach.)

"What's the most boring donut?" Gothel asked.

"Cruller," Demyx responded. "Why?"

"Flurious."

"Ahhhh."

"They do say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Perhaps if I play to his no-nonsense tastes…well, he certainly won't age badly."

"Y'know," Demyx sighed, "I REALLY wish I could make fun of you for him, but I totally see it. Why is everything he does to act like a jerk just so much more…attractive?"

"Aren't you taken?" Gothel raised an eyebrow at him.

"I can look!" Demyx protested. "So can Hans! We're not insecure!"

"Now, wait a minute." Gothel smirked slyly. "Tall, broad-shouldered, superiority complex, full of negativity, wields ice…doesn't that sound like someone else we knew?"

"Oh, DON'T," Demyx groaned.

Gothel reached over to playfully pinch his cheek; "Did we maybe have a little thing for the madman in the basement?"

"Yeah," Demyx sighed. "BEFORE the WHAM ARMY. It's the Flurious principle. But actually working on a team with him and seeing how INSUFFERABLE he is? And constantly mean? Nooooo thank you. Can you even imagine me being saddled with THAT for the rest of my life? Now, Hans, he knows how to have a good time."

(Hans was sprinting across the beach screaming as ice-swords rained behind him. His own sword was but a hilt.)

"He GETS me!" Demyx put both hands over his heart. "He knows what it's like to have everyone think you're the loser, the short end of the stick, the guy nobody cares about! When really, deep down…you kinda just have those days when you wanna go nuts and murder everyone in their sleep because you're sick of them being rude to you."

Gothel flinched; "What was that last part?"

"Ignore it."

(Doom and Grimhilde cast a sigil circle together, the skies darkening with storm clouds overhead.)

"Also, did I mention he's hot?" Demyx went on. "Have you LOOKED at those sideburns?"

"Not my type," Gothel grunted. "He's a boy. I need a MAN."

"I get you. I don't AGREE, but I get you."

"Have we finished the ordering?"

"No, hang on – throw in a pack of donut holes," Demyx told the cashier-chef. "Chocolate. And put the rainbow sprinkles on 'em. A bad guy's gotta have fun, y'know."

(Finally, two tiny gems clinked into the sand on the beach outside.)

"You get all that?" Demyx asked the cashier-chef.

They responded by simply gaping, watching out the window where the light show had taken place.

"…Incompetent," Gothel groaned. "As are all food servers. I should've known."

As the pair walked out with several boxes of donuts in their arms, they were stopped short by the sight of Hans, Grimhilde, Doom, and Flurious panting and sweating as though having just gone through intense physical labor, their clothes showing many tears and Doom's armor even a few dents.

"What the – " Demyx did a double take.

"We were in there for TEN MINUTES!" Gothel yelled, nearly dropping her donuts in exasperation.

"Yeah," Hans grumbled. "Ten minutes too long. We could REALLY have used your help out here. What took you so long?"

"I got you powdered sugar," Demyx told him.

"…You're forgiven," Hans muttered.

"Unfortunately, due to our subjects' resistance," Flurious stated, "interrogation shall have to resume once they have regained their forms." He held out his palm, revealing a glittering aquamarine teardrop beside a spherical ruby. "In separate chambers."

"Surely there is a more efficient route," Doom suggested.

"Huh." Demyx had spotted a blotch of color in his peripheral vision and turned to look at it. "Y'know…we could wait for those two to pop back up and try and force a confession out of 'em. Or we could just ask her."

He inclined his head toward Little Larimar, who was using her clawed fingers to build an intricate sand castle.

"What could she possibly have to offer us?" Grimhilde asked.

"Weeeellll," Demyx brought up, "see that scarf she's wearing? It doesn't GO."

Indeed, Little Larimar bore a translucent violet scarf over her thick winter clothing that mostly held a palette of blues and whites.

"I am glad you are finding a place to put your fashion critique skills to work here," Flurious growled. "However, THIS DOES NOT HELP US IN OUR INTERROGATION!"

"Look," Demyx sighed, "maybe I'm up the wrong tree here, but we can all agree she doesn't dress like that, right? But who do we know who DOES?"

It hit.

"…The WHAM ARMY." Grimhilde gasped, drawing a hand to her throat.

"That in particular looks like an Yzma piece," Gothel observed. "Unless Snatcher's feeling pretty today."

"Please," Demyx scoffed. "He's never pretty. …I would so high-five you right now if it didn't mean we would drop all the donuts."

Flurious tossed the two gems aside, storming toward Little Larimar. "WE SHALL FEAST ON DONUTS MOMENTARILY!" he growled. "FIRST, OUR QUEST!"

He raged toward the sand castle, using Thunder Edge to chop at it, bringing it down in an explosion of lightning.

Little Larimar was temporarily buried beneath the sand. "That was not very nice," her voice came out muffled.

Flurious used his free hand to reach in and pull her up out of the sand, dangling her by the back of her white winter scarf. "WHERE DID YOU GET THAT PURPLE SCARF? ARE THEY AFTER THE CORONA AURORA? TELL ME, BEFORE I MAKE YOU SCREAM IT!"

"Hmm…no," Little Larimar said casually. "Am thinking…I will be the one to make YOU scream."

"WHAT?" Flurious roared at her.

"FLURIOUS!" Doom snapped. "This is getting nowhere! Restrain her, but do not say a word more!"

"Very well," Flurious seethed, turning so that both he and Little Larimar faced the others. "Proceed."

Grimhilde stared Little Larimar down. "We have reason to believe your scarf belongs to one of our…friends. We wish to know where she has gone, and if she was looking for anything in particular."

"Oh, no." Little Larimar shook her head, still completely unaware of the danger she was in – or seemingly so, anyway. "I have made a promise. The scarf is mine so long as I do not say a word."

"IS THAT SCARF MORE VALUABLE THAN YOUR LIFE?" Flurious yelled.

"FLURIOUS!" Doom scolded.

"Dem," Hans asked, "got any spare donuts we could offer up?"

"UGH!" Gothel groaned. "We aren't going to get anywhere by trading DONUTS!"

"Yeah," Demyx told Hans. "I got, like, a whole order of donut holes with the rainbow sprinkles."

"Toss me one."

Hans fumbled the donut hole briefly, then held it out between a forefinger and a thumb. "Tell you what," he said. "I'll give you one of these if you tell us where your buddy who gave you the scarf went."

"Hmm…" Little Larimar thought it over.

"Also," Hans went on, "if it really makes you feel better, you could just give us the scarf after you tell us. Then you wouldn't have the guilt anymore."

"Oh, all right." Little Larimar peeled off the scarf, offering it to Hans. "First, the Earth treat!"

After she'd popped the donut hole into her mouth, she explained (around the chewed-up dough), "I got this scarf from a beautiful amethyst-colored woman who came here with many friends! A beautiful woman with ruby hair, a very pearly pale boy, a man with luminous golden hair, a man with Spinel-like flexibility, and a very angry man who yelled wonderful human screams of rage!"

The group exchanged glances.

"That does match the description of several of the WHAM ARMY," Doom stated.

"I mean, I would agree," Hans said, "but she said the purple one was 'beautiful,' so obviously not Yzma."

"Imagine me high-fiving you," Demyx muttered to him.

"They came to look for a Pearl," Little Larimar continued. "They made it sound very important, like they were going to take her away. Maybe on a wonderful vacation!"

Hans plucked another donut hole off the tall order, holding it out to Little Larimar. "Thanks for being a friend. Here. Have another one as a treat."

"Put her down, Flurious," Doom ordered. "We know all we need to know."

Reluctantly, Flurious did so.

"Hmmm." Little Larimar looked to the scattered sand. "You have ruined my castle."

"Okay, somebody take the donuts," Demyx sighed. "I have work to do."

Hans lifted the boxes into his own arms as Demyx called up his sitar. With a strum, he called the waters of the ocean to rush over the destruction site, shaping the sand up into a taller, more intricate castle than Little Larimar had in the first place.

"Oh, thank you!" Little Larimar cried. "You have fixed my castle! For that, I will even tell you which way my friends went!" She pointed to where she'd last seen the WHAM ARMY disappear into town. "You will certainly find them there!"

"Thank you," Hans said with a nod. "That's all we needed to know."

As the group set out, leaving Little Larimar behind, Grimhilde mused, "More flies are caught with honey than vinegar."

"See?" Demyx urged. "I'm smart."

"And soft-hearted," Flurious grumbled. "You need a heart of ice to survive in the cosmic conflicts!"

Demyx fired him a smirk; "Who said I didn't have that?"

Once they were far enough away, he struck another chord. An even bigger wave crashed down over Little Larimar and her castle, destroying the structure and pulling the small Gem out to sea, where she would have to spend quite some time swimming back.

"It's the little things that make this job worth it," Demyx said with a wink.

The name on the Arkham patient's chart was officially "John Dee." But that wasn't his name. It hadn't been his name for a while. In all respects but legal, he was Doctor Destiny.

And he was rather enjoying the show from his window.

Nightmares were falling from the sky, running rampant in the streets. He was almost jealous – many of these things looked more creative than he could design in his own head, and that was saying something. Their blade-claws, their eyeless faces with too many teeth, the acids they leaked that melted the very streets…all wonderful material to draw from for later nightmares.

He pressed a wistful hand to the window. Ever since he'd found his calling, he had realized that horror, in all of its forms, had no effect on him. Well, that wasn't quite true. It made him happy. It made him inspired. But it didn't make him afraid.

The thing that did make him afraid –

The chant resurfaced from the back of his mind: Fre-re Jac-ques, fre-re Jac-ques, dor-mez vous…

"No!" He seized his temples in his hands, reeling back from the window. "No, no, anything…anything but that…"

He collapsed onto the bed, humming the song unwillingly. Trying to override it with another song would yield no fruit; he had tried so many times. This was why he'd never been able to stay long among the Legion; the attacks had come too often, too soon. Luthor had practically thrown him out.

Useless.

His chest constricted. His heart felt about ready to explode out of his chest. He could hear himself gasping for breath.

Sonnez les matines, sonnez les matines –

Curse Batman.

At last, the panic left him. He fumbled for the railing on his bed, prying himself up to a sitting position, forcing himself to breathe by count. Useless, useless. He had invented himself as Doctor Destiny to have power. To rule his own world. Not to be trapped in a volatile mind.

But John Dee was dead, and he wasn't trading down. Not that he could, at any rate.

All he could do was lean back against the wall and wish that he wasn't useless.

He heard the sounds of a scuffle down the hall. That was nothing new. Someone tried to break out of Arkham at least once a week. More often than not, they succeeded. Destiny could have left if he wanted to. He wouldn't get far before the orderlies would find him collapsed in the street, whimpering (Din, dan, don. Din, dan, don).

But when it was his door that was thrown open, he was taken off guard.

Mozenrath could feel his perception swimming as soon as he entered, with the Huntsman, Tala, and Hämsterviel in tow. He looked upon a man sitting in the bed of the primitive cloister before him – average height, average-trending-skinny build, beige skin, hair like rusted steel. Caught in an expression of utter shock and awe.

Then, in a blink, the picture changed. No longer a man, but a bare skull with two burning eyes, wrapped in a deep-blue shroud over a bulky figure.

"You didn't undersell him," Mozenrath told Tala. "When you said he'd gotten so good at it he could affect reality…I wasn't expecting this.

The image flickered, and Mozenrath was looking at the human again, with the faded illusion of the skull superimposed somewhere in the mix. "Who are you?" Destiny asked.

"I am Mozenrath," the sorcerer replied. "I suppose you could call me a supervillain. That's all you need to know for now. Tell me, Doctor Destiny. Did you want another chance at employment in a villainous legion? Because due to acts of Boogeyman, I find my syndicate in need of a nightmare expert. And I'm told you're a nightmare expert."

"Yes…" Destiny clawed at his sheets, fingers seeming to lengthen and sharpen. "I want…revenge…power…nightmares…but who would have me? I can't – the song – I'm useless – "

He was back to completely human-looking, face screwed up. Possibly trying not to cry. Mozenrath rolled his eyes over to Tala; "You know, if you didn't sell him so well, I wouldn't think this was the one at all."

"Oh, trust me," Tala assured him. "He is a very, very bad man when he has his confidence restored. It was the big black bat that left him so very scarred and broken. But he is a force to be reckoned with in the sleeping worlds…once he gets that accursed song out of his head."

"Tala - !" Destiny gasped. Now he scowled; "What do you want?" His eyes glowed.

"You must be feeling quite resentful of Lex Luthor and Gorilla Grodd," Tala said with a sultry smile. "Both of them, with all medical tools at their disposal, so perfectly poised to attempt to cure you of your condition…and they wasted it on a virtual boyfriend and a scheme to turn everyone into apes."

"Stupid," Destiny seethed. "The plan was so STUPID! What did it change besides our bodies? With minds intact…no one was affected. He didn't go where he should have gone: to break the MIND!"

"Now that is sounding like the evil we are needing!" Hämsterviel cried, bounding up and down.

"A gerbil?" Destiny raised a brow. "Admittedly, I've seen stranger in this city…"

"HAMSTER!" Hämsterviel yelled, his bounding becoming angry hopping. "HAMSTER HAMSTER HAMSTER HAMSTER – "

"YOU'RE NOT EVEN A LITERAL HAMSTER!" Mozenrath reminded him.

"IT IS IN MY NAME, YOU NINNY OF A NIGHTMARE!" Hämsterviel bellowed.

For the first time, a full shell of confidence seemed to wash over Destiny. "If I didn't know better," he chuckled, "I'd think this was all just a very strange dream."

"Now, there's what I was looking for." Mozenrath smirked. "Don't worry about your…condition. Vexen might not be happy about having to play therapist to you, but at least he won't be bored. And come to think of it, he's never happy about anything, so he might as well be angry and productive as opposed to angry and doing nothing."

"Besides," the Huntsman stated, "he has undergone mental trauma of his own, and observed it in both Garfield and Roman."

"…WHEN?" Mozenrath cried. "On all three of them!"

"How could you MISS such an important DETAIL among your moronic minions?" Hämsterviel chided.

"No," the Huntsman corrected. "All three bury it deep. I myself have only noticed it because I put my ear to the ground and know what signs to look for."

"Just answer me this question," Mozenrath posed. "If a creature made entirely of nightmares were to attempt to poison my brain from the inside…could you, theoretically, unleash a bigger nightmare in my favor to chase him out?"

"Why…" Now he'd morphed again, bearing the skull visage, the long black shroud. "That would be most enjoyable, for me," Destiny related. "If boringly simple."

He slid off the bed, walking toward Mozenrath, putting out his clawed hand. "Call me Doctor Destiny – though you already have. The pleasure is – "

But the song, it was there again, Frere Jacques, frere Jacques – Destiny gasped, dropping the façade, doubling over.

"Here." The Huntsman stepped forward, withdrawing a pendant from his tunic. "Wear this." He slipped it around Destiny's neck. "It will allow you perfect lucidity in unconsciousness…even utter silence and darkness, should you will it."

"I don't sleep," Destiny panted, one hand closing around the Huntsman's wrist. "Not unless it's by accident. I can't, not since – not since – "

"Sleep, my little nightmare," Tala purred, lightly tapping Destiny's scalp.

A purple-pink light washed over his whole body; he collapsed, but the Huntsman was there to catch him, hoisting him over his shoulder.

"And we have two for the price of one," Mozenrath said proudly. "One of which is specifically tailored to keeping Pitch Black OUT OF OUR HEADS. Let's see Firefly claim I went to the wrong place now."

He cast a Corridor, then gestured to it, looking to Tala; "After you."

Tala hesitated. "It is…strange. Lex always wanted to look to other worlds, to bigger and better. I had such difficulty keeping his head out of the clouds. Why, now, is it so simple to walk into the clouds myself?"

"Because this time," Mozenrath told her, "you have a choice. And, really, when you get down to the wire, that's what the WHAM ARMY is all about. Now get in that Corridor before you make me say anything else remotely sentimental."

"My choice," Tala repeated. She then smiled broadly. "And I choose to forget you, Lex."

She stalked toward her new fate quite happily.

"All right, everybody!" Scarlet Overkill held up the map of Ba Sing Se like a tourist looking to plan a sightseeing route. "If you were an Overtaker, where in this city would you Overtake?"

"That's easy," Rémington said. "They'd go right for the palace. It's in the name, right?"

"No, that's not it," Mim said just to be contrary. "I hate the way you think." (But with affection.)

Aghoul was quite steamed at the moment, for Mim and Rémington were walking ahead of him, and he could see quite clearly where on the latter's body the former's hand was having a rest. Therefore, he contributed nothing to the discussion.

"No, I gotta agree with Mimsy," Roman stated. "Palace is too obvious. Besides, Patchwork gave us the intel on the security. No WAY they got past all that."

"Well, I mean, maybe if they had a draconequus on their side," Discord laughed. "Which they DON'T!"

"Still won't do to underestimate them," Snatcher muttered. "They could very well have blown their way past the military. You'll recall back in Asgard – "

"When they got lucky," Roman broke in. "But all the same, just going right for the throne isn't how you win a country. You gotta play with the infrastructure. Climb the corporate ladder, sow the seeds of discontent!"

"I'm likened to agree," Snatcher stated. "Now, Lord Mozenrath, he'd skip ahead to the full-scale invasion, but were it me, playing it INTELLIGENTLY, I'd make certain the common people had our favor before attempting any coup d'etat."

"Then what's that?" Rémington gestured forward with one of his guns.

"What's what now? What?" Snatcher followed the gun barrel to where a notice was pinned up on a wall. He approached it curiously –

Only for it to evaporate as a Shushu bullet hit it.

"Eheh…sorry," Rémington said sheepishly. "Loose trigger finger. Usually a good thing in my line of work…"

"Found another one!" Scarlet was rushing to the next version of the notice put up. "C'mon, c'mon, everybody over here REMINGTON YOU PUT THAT GUN DOWN RIGHT NOW – "

Soon the entire group was gathered around the poster. "Effective immediately," Snatcher read off, "Earth King Kuei abdicates his throne and leaves it to Earth Queen Vanessa. And also Evil Emperor Zurg; don't forget him. He's very cool."

"It does NOT fucking say th – " Roman took a closer look. "…I don't know what I expected. Okay, so does this Zurg guy have a tie to our target?"

"Let's see who you REALLY are!" Discord yelled at the poster, reaching a claw right inside the paper and pulling off all the text in one inky layer that crumpled in his fingers. As he removed his claw, what remained on the poster was a drawing of a familiar foe. "AHA! OLD SEA WITCH URSULA!"

"'Vanessa' is an alter ego, no doubt," Snatcher muttered. "Know one when I see one, I do, given that hers can only be a pale imitation of mine – "

"So what do we wanna do?" Scarlet asked. "I mean, you did say we could storm the palace if we had Discord. And we have Discord."

"Hello!" Discord chirped, an actual heart doodle floating away from his lips as he waved at his traveling companions.

"Oh, I would SO enjoy burning it all to the ground!" Mim crowed, giving Rémington's backside a squeeze of excitement.

Aghoul summoned up his scythe, ready to behead Rémington before Discord discreetly reached over with a magically-extended arm and plucked the weapon from his hands. "Play nice, or you don't get to keep your toys," Discord chided.

Rémington hadn't noticed the attempt on his life.

Discord then handed the scythe to Roman; "Here you go."

"What's this for?" Roman asked.

"To see how badly a ranged fighter wields a scythe, of course," Discord stated. "Oh, dear, this doesn't bring up any bad memories of incredulously skilled little girls, does it?"

"Oh, SHUT the fuck up." Roman tossed the scythe aside.

"Anyone?" Scarlet urged. "Storm castle? Not storm castle?"

"…No," Snatcher realized. "No! We do NOT storm the castle!"

"WE DO NOT STORM THE CASTLE!" Scarlet repeated, holding an index finger high. "Wait." She turned to Snatcher, lowering her hand. "Why don't we storm the castle?"

"Why, weren't you paying attention, dear sister?" Snatcher reminded her. "They've got the tip of the pyramid with no support. We could really dismantle their entire structure by coming up from underground."

"Get the common people on our side," Scarlet realized.

"And we just so happen to have the BEST person on our side to do that with," Roman reminded her, leaning an elbow on Snatcher's shoulder.

"Quite," Snatcher agreed, folding his arms proudly. "All right, let's get to work. Before we can win hearts and minds, we'll need information. Popular opinion of the crown, demographics, who lives here, who doesn't, what do they want, what do they fear, what can we exploit?"

"Oh, this will be MARVELOUS!" Mim crowed. "Now we get to hurt the bystanders as well!"

"Weather report calls for a one hundred percent chance of CHAOS," Discord said as he pulled down a weather map that depicted an aerial view of the Earth Kingdom, pink clouds with chocolate rain situated over Ba Sing Se.

"And at the end," Snatcher stated, unfolding his arms to get at an itch behind his ear, "our enemies will learn that the WHAM ARMY is not to be trifled with."

His index fingernail rougly scratched at the irritated patch of skin behind his ear, which was beginning to tint to a very definite shade of green.