Taking Back the Crown

by JCMorrigan

Mozenrath. Archibald Snatcher. Roman Torchwick. Mad Madam Mim. Yzma. The Huntsman. Wuya. Ayam Aghoul. Their mission: take over the multiverse, or look fabulous trying. Rated M for swearing, steamy implications and VERY bloody battles. Contains slash and het shipping.

122. The Shape of Water (and Fire)

A/N: For this one, you're going to want to know the League of Evil Mutants song from Rise of the TMNT, which is a show I have never actually watched but happened to have a perfect song for what I am about to execute. Which I know is a parody of the Sergeant Major General song, but trust me…you want the TMNT version. Also, trigger warning for a continuation of Ven feeling suicidal. Also also, another warning, because I'm about to debut an old fave cartoon villain of mine, but he is a Marvel villain and, to that end, one associated with HYDRA and all that entails, which I know some people would want to be warned about first. That said, his specific incarnation is from Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes. There's ALSO a trigger warning for cannibalism, and that's kind of the schtick of another villain I brought in, so consider that potentially in effect for the rest of the fic!

...

In the end, Sora honored Ven's request and didn't tell Aqua that he'd wanted to end himself again. But he did have to tell Aqua and the others about Randall and the WHAM ARMY, and about the fact that he'd somehow managed to summon an Unversed made of pure rage by briefly turning into someone else he didn't recognize, and that put up a stir for a good half hour.

But eventually, the ruffled feathers were smoothed again, and work began on what was important: the door.

The machinery of the factory was efficient and detailed, and soon, the plain door template that they'd retrieved from Warehouse A113 was styled exactly as a particular closet door found in the Fire Nation palace. Sora didn't quite understand the technical jargon, but somehow, the data that Aang's friends had provided about the palace had allowed the machines to pull the exact likeness of the door from that building. (XR didn't understand the technical jargon either but put up a pretty convincing show that he actually did.)

The door was set up on the empty Laughfloor, a metal frame snapping it into place. "I've temporarily activated a one-time-use key card," Sulley stated. "This will allow us to open it from the factory. After this, it will only work from Radiant Garden."

"Here goes nothing!" Sora swiped the card.

Mike, XR, and Toph began to pound a drumroll on the floor.

The light atop the frame lit up red. Sora pushed the door open to reveal the halls of the palace beyond.

"IT WORKS!" Sora cried happily.

"WE DID IT!" Katara yelled.

"Now you can be part of our team without having to actually leave home, Zuko!" Aang said excitedly, having grabbed onto the young Fire Lord's hand without even thinking as he looked up at him. "Isn't that great?"

"Wha – " Zuko flushed. "Uh…yeah." He averted his gaze from Aang, smiling. It was a great thing. Very great.

"You should go back now," Aqua encouraged him. "That way, we won't have kept you for too long. We'll see you again when we get back to Radiant Garden."

But Aang was still holding onto Zuko's hand, and he didn't really want that to stop. All the same, he gently withdrew his hand, striding toward the door. At first, his gaze was stony, fixed upon the door, but then he turned back over his shoulder to give the others an honest smile; "See you in a little while, okay?"

"Bye!" Aang waved fervently.

"Seeya!" Sokka added. "Wouldn't wanna be ya!" A pause. "No, wait. Actually, I kind of would want to be the Fire Lord?"

Zuko re-entered his old familiar home, shutting the door behind him, taking a moment to lean back against it and feel the world of possibilities on the other side.

The light on the frame dimmed. "Here's the permanent key card," Sulley told Sora, handing him a plastic rectangle. "As a matter of fact, here are two spares, just in case."

Sora stored them away by magic. "Thanks, Sulley. You've been a great help."

"All's well that ends well?" XR asked.

"Not quite," Aqua stated. "I still have one concern."

"Yeah?" Sora turned to look at her, hoping she wasn't going to ask about Ven's mental state.

Aqua swallowed hard. She hadn't wanted to even bring this up, but it had to be addressed. "When you summoned that Unversed. You really think you became someone else?"

"I know it sounds like a bad excuse," Sora told her, "but I was saying things I didn't want to say. Things I never WOULD say. And it felt like I had lost control. This isn't the first time it's happened, either. Somebody else took over in the Flash Black Galaxy, too. Somebody who wanted to talk to Axel."

"I just…" Aqua sighed. "I worry I might know exactly who that 'other person' is."

"You mean it's NOT just an elaborate metaphor for Sora actually having inner rage?" Toph commented.

"Vanitas," Aqua said, loathing the very taste of the word on her tongue. "He would've said those things, and he created a lot of the Unversed we fought. All of them, actually. I know the WHAM ARMY seemed to think you could get them out of more than one person, but he's the only Unversed I ever knew of. And the worst part is, I know exactly how and why he could have done those things."

"WHAT?" Sora recoiled. "But that's impossible! You got rid of him!"

"Ven did," Aqua reminded him. "By battling him into submission in the depths of his own heart. I'm starting to think Vanitas didn't vanish. Just…dove deeper down. Now that Ven is freed from you, Vanitas isn't part of him anymore. He's part of you."

"I have one of the bad guys inside of me?" Sora cried.

"Phrasing," XR piped up. "It's important."

"I don't get why he would've wanted to talk to Axel, though," Aqua realized.

"I think that was somebody else," Sora suggested.

"How many more people could there be in your heart?" Aqua asked.

"Sora's heart is pretty big," Rosalina teased. "But in all seriousness, stranger things have happened. It puts me in mind of the data that Twilight and Ienzo were working on back at the castle. Maybe they've found some conclusions."

"And then what?" Sora asked. "Do we…let Vanitas out?"

"Um, NO!" Sokka yelled. "I'm new to all of this and even I know that is a BAD idea! WORST idea!"

"Vanitas is awful," Sora agreed. "It's true. But…does he deserve to be trapped inside of me? Does anyone deserve that? And if I don't let him out…will he take over one day?"

"Those won't be easy questions to answer," Rosalina told him. "But you can know we will be beside you as you figure them out."

"ABSOLUTELY WE WILL!" Papyrus agreed.

"Vanitas…" Ven muttered. "I'd hoped never to see him again. But I know him better than anyone. He was part of me, once. Thinking about fighting him again…scares me."

"You don't have to," Sora said with a shake of his head.

"But part of me wants to," Ven told him. "Not in a way that could risk the x-blade being forged again, but I feel wrong standing by and doing nothing while the enemy I know best hurts someone else. I've beaten him before. I can do it again, if I have to."

"Let's put that on a back burner, okay?" Sora asked firmly, looking Ven in the eye. Given what Ven had been through, he figured the boy probably really wanted to do something that made him feel like he was helping out, but throwing him into the ring with his worst self was the most wrong choice that could have been made in that moment, period.

Ven understood that, and nodded, though he still stewed on it deep down, wondering what he could do now, how he could fix it, how he could just make it better, because he wasn't going to fail anyone else again if he could help it.

The hand Papyrus rested on his shoulder reminded him that at least one person didn't want him to think that way.

"We should head back to Radiant Garden," Katara stated. "We can regroup about the Vanitas thing, and the Gaang's all here. I'm kind of excited to get to show Sokka, Suki, and Toph around the castle."

"I just can't wait to go sightseeing!" Toph cried overzealously. Then: "Get it?"

XR was the only one who burst out laughing.

"He gets it," Toph said, satisfied.

"This is gonna be a great adventure," Suki said with a smile.

"And the best part is that with the WHAM ARMY out of here," Sora remarked pleasantly, "we hardly had to deal with them at all! Imagine if they'd showed up on the World of Four Nations. Or Maleficent!"

"Don't even joke," Sokka grunted.

"Thanks again, Sulley," Sora told the fluffy blue monster.

"Anytime." Sulley gave him a nod and a smile. "Pleasure doing business with you. Oh, and Sora? You and your friends remember how powerful it is to laugh, okay?"

"I won't let any of them forget!" Sora said with a thumbs-up.

...

Knowhere was a place often frequented by strange travelers. The immense skull filled with metropolitan fixtures, housing every kind of deadly sin and then some for both business and pleasure, was a waystation between planets and worlds alike. It was to the point where you really couldn't look out of place there, unless you came bearing the insignia of a law-oriented government. That wasn't received very well.

Thus, no one thought Zeron Alpha looked odd. A few might have seen him and guessed what planet he was from, originally. He was tall, well-built and agile, humanoid but for a canine face that might put some in mind of a psychopomp jackal. His skin was of the deepest black with a plum-purple sheen, his ears pointed and alert, his snout long and considered handsome among his kind (and, truth be told, among many not of his kind). He wore basic armor he'd crafted himself, marked by its distinct orange plating. He'd forgone any sort of mask or helm – his favorite had been lost a while back, anyway.

Zeron Alpha wouldn't have thought anything about Knowhere odd, either, save for the fact that in one hand, he clutched a crumpled paper that had specifically invited him to a tavern there. Royal-blue stationery with shimmering gold decorative edges, the script neat and flowing in black ink. In other words, an incredible discrepancy from anything you could find on Knowhere, except possibly the Collector's territory, but the invitation absolutely did not specify his address.

Part of Alpha wondered if he shouldn't even be here. The circumstances in which the invitation had arrived (namely, that it had appeared at his exact location in a puff of blue smoke) had been sketchy at best. But his mind kept returning to a specific line in the gorgeous calligraphy:

"I happen to be aware that as of the deaths of Zerons Beta and Omega, the fall of General Morando, and the rise of the Akiridions, you currently have nothing left to lose and nowhere better to be."

Knowhere better to be, really.

He followed the instructions to the shadiest tavern in the entire skull. The façade looked so ramshackle, he was now convinced the proprietor and the invitation-maker had nothing in common. Another line he'd read stood out to him: "I would tell you where exactly in this bottom-feeder dive you should have a seat, but you, in particular, I think will know exactly what you're looking for if everyone shows up on time."

Maybe he just wanted to see who could possibly have piqued his interest that much and how much they knew.

So he entered the tavern, casting his gaze around. It was entirely packed with entities of all sorts. People crowded around a bar to receive semi-clean glasses of brightly-colored liquid, egged on creatures that decidedly weren't Skeltegs in a fighting ring, started a brawl in one back corner –

His gaze stopped at the same time his heart did. Well. The author of the invitation had certainly known what he would be on the lookout for, all right.

She was tall. No, that was an understatement. She was the size of a small lean-to, and in fact her helmeted head would brush the ceiling of the tavern if she were standing fully upright on her four legs. Her scaly magenta skin was covered in hardened armor that practically shone in the dim lighting of the bar, reminding Alpha of how they'd met, what they'd originally been united to do. She wasn't standing upright, as a matter of fact; no, she was seated as best as she could be at one of the back tables – meaning she had to forgo a chair; society never was that wonderful at accommodating those from Gorbon – her head hung, one of her arms delicately gripping a drinking glass, her four eyes downcast and her sharp-toothed mouth bent in an uncharacteristically melancholy frown.

She'd thought he was dead all this time.

Alpha stopped caring about anything else. He shoved patrons of the bar aside roughly as he ran to her. They'd both played different roles in Morando's regime, but whenever their paths had crossed, they'd struck sparks like starlight, and now he was realizing, the time he'd spent in recuperation, she hadn't known, he hadn't been able to get her the message, and he knew what it was like to lose –

"GWEN!" he barked.

Her head jerked up. Nearly hit the ceiling, which might've put a pockmark in it, all considered. Her quartet of shining eyes – yellow sclera, violet irises – locked onto the bounty hunter running toward her.

"No," she gasped. "It can't be."

"Gwen – " Alpha pulled up short beside the table, unsure at first of what to say. What does a dead man say to his widow? (Perhaps too strong a term – they were never wed – but "his mourning girlfriend who'd attended his funeral" wasn't a very concise analogy.)

"Alpha?" she asked, her voice cracking. "Is it you? Are you…here? I'd heard you perished on Earth's moon."

Now he knew what to say. He gave a toothy grin, white fangs flashing. "Turns out I wasn't as dead as they made me out to be."

Gwen's eyes watered. She broke into a sunny smile.

Then rammed her fist down on the table hard enough to reduce it to splinters. "WHY DIDN'T YOU CONTACT ME?" she roared.

Ah, there was the Gwen that Alpha really loved. As she screamed "DID YOU INTEND TO MAKE ME MOVE ON? IS THAT IT? WAS THERE ANOTHER WOMAN?" loudly enough for the whole bar to hear, he fell further for her. He had a definite appreciation for unfettered rage.

When she gave him an opening, he said, "I didn't intend to die. But that last battle with Varvatos Vex left me with wounds too deep to go untreated. I've been in recuperation the past few months. Only got back on my feet two days ago. That's when this showed up." He unfolded the invitation; held it out to her. "This isn't your handiwork, is it?"

"I – " Gwen had cooled off considerably. "I would've used pink stationery."

"That's what I thought." He stuffed it into a pocket unceremoniously. "Also, if you haven't used your ZorgSnap Teleporter, don't. I activated mine the minute I saw where Varvatos' blade was going. And it glitched me out of the whole galaxy."

"Oh, Alpha, darling – " Gwen gasped, putting a hand up to her mouth. "Does it…still hurt?"

"I don't mind," Alpha said smugly. "Even better will be the scar it leaves. I think of it as a message to send anyone else who tries what Varvatos did."

"Alpha, dear – "

"Gwen."

She scooped him close to her in an embrace that enveloped him entirely, and it was almost embarrassing how much he loved it. After all, he deserved ten times the woman of anyone else, didn't he?

"And you?" he asked her mischievously. "I assume you didn't die."

"No," she sighed. "I went under the radar. Got off scot-free after Morando's fall."

"But did you accomplish anything?"

"Well, yes. Information on the Akiridion royal brats. Though I had to cuddle up to an ex to get it."

"Don't tell me." Alpha was nearly laughing. "Stuart."

"Unfortunately."

"Did you tell him you were otherwise engaged?"

"I had to," Gwen emphasized. "The old Gorbon tradition was the best cover story to get that close. Though I did have to give him a different name than 'Zeron Alpha.' That wouldn't have flown for multiple reasons."

"And you didn't even get caught in the lie," Alpha chuckled, reaching out to stroke her massive hand with his own relatively tiny palm. "That's my girl."

He tilted his head to lick her cheek, and she let out a throaty giggle.

"At least tell me you got to eat him," he whispered.

"No," she sighed. "It would've blown my cover. …And he may have hit me with some unexpected nostalgia."

"Looks like I have a new bar to clear, then. I like a challenge."

Their romantic nuzzling and exchanging of sordid deeds done was interrupted when someone else yelled, "WHAT DID YOU FUCKERS DO TO THE TABLE?"

Gwen hastily let Alpha down, and Alpha turned to face the newcomer. He looked to be Earthling, though under all that armor, no one could be sure. Gray armor, tinted with bright traffic-cone-orange stripes. Of a much more modern make than Gwen's and even Alpha's.

He gestured to the splinters; "Are you goddamn serious? You know, this isn't the way to make a first impression. I was looking forward to getting to sit down for once. But noooooo, no table for Felix because a couple of lovebirds have to decide to fuck on it!"

"That is NOT what happened," Alpha growled, baring his fangs.

"Ooh, scary puppy," the newcomer – Felix – replied. "Anyway, are we gonna get to WHY you invited me to be the third wheel on your date, or are you two just into menages? Because lemme tell you, I don't do dudes." He turned his visor to Gwen. "I also USUALLY don't do…whatever you are, but you know what, now that I'm getting a closer look, kinda could get into it."

Gwen edged closer to him; "Keep being rude and you'll get to be eaten alive in the way you DON'T want."

"You received an invitation," Alpha deduced.

"Yeah," Felix affirmed. "All fancy-like, on blue paper. Told me to come to this EXACT table, which no longer exists. You wrote it?"

"No," Gwen told him, "but we each received one."

"Our host has yet to make their identity known," Alpha murmured. He then gave the human a condescending glare; "It's Felix?"

"Yeah," Felix affirmed. "As in Felix of Felix and Locus. Ah, Locus. May he rest in peace. Is he dead? To me, he is. And if I ever see him again, he will be. But I'm the most efficient merc you're going to find this side of Chorus. The problem being my contract with Charon Industries was ended without my consent when the CEO got fucking bumped off by a bunch of nimrods. Also, I wish I could show you the totally badass and awesome sword I wielded, because it was this whole chosen-one thing that could activate total planetary destruction, but seeing as my ZorgSnap, trademark, not only sent me to the wrong place but SEVERED MY FUCKING CONNECTION TO IT, you're just gonna have to take my word for it that I had one."

"I would say 'Likely story,'" Alpha sniffed, "if not for the fact that I, myself, haven't had the best of luck with a ZorgSnap."

"Oh, is that so?" A voice tinted with a thick Earthling accent – was the word for it "German"? Alpha wondered – broke in. "Mine simply worked like a charm. Then again, when one is trapped in the Negative Zone, one is not picky about where one is taken by a teleporter, so long as it is not anywhere else in the Negative Zone."

This one wasn't wearing armor or any sort of space-dweller gear whatsoever. No, he was a fashion disaster. A head-to-toe purple bodysuit, mask included. Yellow gloves, a golden belt, and what almost appeared to be Dalmatian fur making up the gaudily fluffy epaulets.

Noting a particular implement at this man's waist, Alpha chuckled; "Now, Felix, this man actually has a sword."

"Wha – that's a lame-ass nerd sword!" Felix cried, stamping his foot. "Mine was a double-pronged sacred energy sword that could activate a genocide mechanism!"

"Ah, I see!" the purple-suited man commented. "A sword of great power to make up for a lack of skill."

"The FUCK did you just say to me?" Felix snapped.

"This broadsword is, indeed, old-fashioned," the purple-suited man explained. "Perhaps primitive. Which is exactly why I carry it. Because in my hands, it is an instrument of murder."

"Now, you, I think I like," Alpha commented.

"And what's your name, sweetie?" Gwen asked.

Though his face was hidden, it was clear his expression beneath the mask was nothing short of playful. "Why, Baron Heinrich Zemo, of course. But you may simply call me 'Baron Zemo.'"

"That's not a nickname," Felix pointed out.

"It isn't meant to be," Zemo told him sharply. "It is meant to be a title of respect. After all, I can only assume I was called here to command this motley team."

"And they say I have an ego," Felix muttered.

"No one said anything about a leader," Alpha told him.

"I'd be careful," Gwen told him. "You look about snack-sized."

"If you want to be infected with a slow-acting virus that will rot your body from the inside out," Zemo told her, "then by all means, devour me."

Gwen pouted angrily at the revelation of this loophole. "Well, I would at least assume the de facto leader would be whoever invited us to this table."

"WHAT TABLE?" Felix yelled. "YOU DESTROYED THE TABLE!"

"I knew upon sight it could be none of you," Zemo scoffed.

"How wonderful," Alpha seethed. "Now I also regret that Gwen can't eat you."

"So who's the mystery host?" Felix asked. "Who the hell went to all this trouble to round us up and get us to this very specific bar in the middle of literally Knowhere?"

Their question was answered with a smug "That would be me."

A tear opened up in the fabric of space, and Mozenrath eased himself out of it, temporarily floating in midair. As the seam closed behind him in a flash of blue, he moved to stand atop the table only to realize it was no longer there and collapse into the debris it had once been.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO THE TABLE I RESERVED?" he yelled, facedown on the floor. "Better question: why did I expect anything different?"

He planted one firm foot on the debris, drew himself up to full height, then stepped off the splinters to cast a repair charm on the table. Once it had reassembled, he created a couple of translucent blue steps to allow him to step gracefully right up onto it.

Zeron Alpha, Gwen, Felix, and Zemo stared rather awkwardly as he went through this process.

"Now." Mozenrath smoothed a few errant splinters off his clothing. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Mozenrath, leader of the WHAM ARMY. And these are my talented associates."

He gave a snap of his fingers, and an utter mushroom cloud of green smoke erupted from what had previously seemed to be an oddly empty patch in the bar. As it turned out, it had been occupied by a crowd the whole time – they'd just been invisible, awaiting the dramatic reveal so Drake could bring them into focus.

"Well done," Mysterio whispered to Drake. "You're already above your pay grade."

"You're paying me?" Drake responded.

"Um…next question," Mysterio muttered.

"Of course, my syndicate is more expansive than this," Mozenrath went on, "but you currently see before you the Huntsman. Dr. Rupert Hämsterviel – "

"JACQUES!" Hämsterviel screeched.

"Mysterio," Mozenrath went on, "Drake Stone, and – "

He didn't have to finish, because all four of his guests screamed "ZORG!" and charged the CEO angrily.

"Oh, shit," Zorg whispered before Felix had him pinned up against the wall, a serrated combat knife to his Adam's apple.

"Your fucking teleporter," Felix seethed, "not only DIDN'T WORK, but BROKE MY CONNECTION TO MY FUCKING COOL SWORD!"

"Now, I wanna make a li'l clarification," Zorg panted, sweating heavily. "I advertised you a ZorgSnap that'd teleport. And to my understandin', it did, in fact, teleport, so technically – "

"TECHNICALLY, MY ASS!"

"Don't kill him," Alpha said stonily. "After all, his little device suggested I was dead to the worlds, including my girlfriend. I had to watch my brothers' murderers rise to power once more from a med bay. If anyone deserves first blood, it's me."

"Can I at least make him hurt?" Felix asked.

"If I can eat the remains," Gwen told him.

"I don't even hold any ill will," Zemo admitted. "I just want to see the show. I never did like how he condescended me when making his sale."

"Now, gentlemen'n'lady," Zorg choked, "if we all step back and think about this – "

There was a sonorous explosion of blue light, sending everyone involved scattering. "NO ONE KILLS MY WEAPONS TECHNICIAN," Mozenrath growled. He then forced a calm exterior; "Besides. If you leave him alive, he and I have devised a way to make things up to you."

"All right, I'll bite," Felix sighed as he peeled himself off the floor. "What's your angle here?"

Alpha, Zemo, and Gwen also righted themselves. It turned out that when Gwen had fallen, she'd crushed a couple drunken bar patrons to death, but she didn't really care. (Not that anyone was going to miss Taserface in the long run, anyway.) She picked up one of the corpses (Taserface's escort for the night, a stripper named Joel) and popped him into her mouth. Delicious.

"We want you to join the WHAM ARMY," Mozenrath stated. "What is the WHAM ARMY, you ask? Well, allow me to explain – "

"Actually!" Mysterio rose up before Mozenrath's table, a finger extended to the ceiling. "We'll take it from here!"

"…What are you doing?" Mozenrath asked, highly suspicious.

"Drake!" Mysterio commanded. "Hit the lights!"

With a snap, Drake had dimmed every light in the bar (which wasn't really that hard to do; it was pretty dim already) except for a single white-hot spotlight over Mysterio. Mysterio then waved him over, and Drake skidded in next to him.

"For the last time," Mozenrath seethed, "WHAT ARE YOU – "

What Mysterio was doing was breaking out into song: "He is the very model of a warring warrior alchemist!"

Drake joined right in; "He's enchanted things from vegetable, animal, to cyclist!"

Mysterio threw his arms out to either side; "We want the worlds' entirety to crush them with our iron fist!"

Drake attempted to strike a dramatic pose, but couldn't really decide which one, so he just contorted into as many photo-op positions as he could think of on the beat; "From Knowhere to Atlantis he will rule them in all regalness!"

Mozenrath, in the meantime, had dropped his face into his hands, letting out a long, low growl.

Mysterio and Drake linked arms as they danced round and round; "As a boss, he is extremely caring, and a touch quite passionate! But all they do is treat him as their classic villain antagonist! Our evil friends here today, he has some exciting news!"

"EXCITING news!" Drake emphasized. Then, "Pause for effect…"

Three seconds of silence before Mysterio belted, "'TWAS WAY BACK IN THE DESERT THAT HE SWORE THAT HE WOULD NEVER LOSE!"

And, caught up in the momentum, Gwen, Alpha, Felix, and Zemo all chorused: "'Twas way back in the desert that he swore that he would never lose!" The Huntsman, Hämsterviel, and Zorg joined them for one more "'TWAS WAY BACK IN THE DESERT THAT HE SWORE THAT HE WOULD NEVER LOSE!"

Mysterio was now dancing around the barroom floor, the spotlight following him; "On his trips Mozenrath found himself seven like minded fighters! They were the greatest villains; their friendship there was none tighter!"

The spotlight swapped over to Drake, who was across the room, flouncing in such a way that his myriad pendants and sparkles glimmered like a disco ball; "Their conquests due are going to be nothing short of masterful! With warriors from all worlds, the WHAM ARMY would be so powerful!"

Alpha, Felix, Zemo, and Gwen cried, "Their conquests due are going to be nothing short of masterful!"

Zorg, the Huntsman, and Hämsterviel joined again: "With warriors from all worlds the WHAM ARMY would be so powerful!"

Now Mysterio was on the table, clutching Mozenrath by both shoulders; "The Overtakers' rejection is nothing short of blasphemous!"

Drake, also on the table, slid an arm around Mozenrath's waist; "In several social circles he's synonymous with – "

There was yet another great explosion. Drake and Mysterio were thrown to opposite sides of the bar, and the lighting returned to normal. No spotlights. No extra dim.

Mozenrath lowered his hand, ready to turn this back into a normal pitch, but as he looked to his audience, he recognized the hunger in the eyes of Gwen and Alpha at least. The masks of the other two made it hard to tell, but he was pretty sure they, too, wanted to see where this was going.

Maybe he wanted to, himself.

"FIIIIIIIINE," Mozenrath groaned before giving himself a dramatic backdrop of blue flames with the wave of a hand; "After I won a kingdom, my magic track record was destroyed by a shirtless street rat brother whose stories I don't enjoy!"

Firework fountains erupted to either side of his table; "And way before that, Destane pushed me 'till I'd all but given up, only I rose high above him and ensured his life force had dried up!"

Well, now he was just having fun. Rising into the air, surrounded by a brilliant aura of light, he belted, "Now that you now my origins it's time for you to rally with me!" Then, looking pointedly at Baron Zemo; "And yes, we'll need the skills of everyone – " He literally pointed at Zemo as well. " – including that Nazi!"

Zemo glowered as Alpha, Gwen, and Felix turned to sing "And yes, we'll need the skills of everyone including that Nazi!" into his hooded ears.

Mozenrath swished his hand through the air, drawing pyrotechnics that sparked and bounced throughout the bar; "Now, my friends, the time is here we WHAMMERS come together for a stand! Let's put a close on the space chapter of our merry little band! So join me in ending all our greatest foes, for I insist!"

He lowered himself to the floor before the table, an almost blinding white light emanating from him throughout the whole bar, as he threw his hands up to the sky; "I AM THE VERY MODEL OF A WARRING WARRIOR ALCHEMIST!"

All at once, the bar was plunged into pitch blackness. When the lights came back up, everything was as normal, and most of the patrons decided to just ignore whatever that had been and go back to their drinking and betting pools, since weirder things happen in Knowhere.

"All right," Felix stated. "I'll bite. That was one hell of a show."

"I will admit you have my interest," Zemo agreed.

"And here I was worried you were going to bore me like Morando did," Gwen said with a smirk.

Alpha folded his arms, giving a toothy grin; "I'm in."

"Oh, and to sweeten the pot," Mozenrath said, faking only having just realized the elephant in the room, "aren't we short two Zerons? Oh, that's right. They're dead. THAT needs to change."

It took Alpha longer to process what had happened than it took Mozenrath to actually cast the spell. Another blue flash, two forms gelling into the bar, and suddenly, Alpha was seeing ghosts. A woman in blue armor, her helmet horned to accommodate for her pointed ears. A thickset man in red, offset by his rounded silver-blue helmet that covered his leathery scaled skin.

"Brothers…" Alpha gasped.

"Alpha?" the woman, Zeron Omega, said breathlessly. Zeron Beta, who did not speak, simply removed his helmet, his snakelike eyes wide, the normally-slitted pupils rounded with awe.

"You're welcome!" Mozenrath proclaimed. "Oh, did I forget to mention? I'm a fully-fledged necromancer, so the whole 'dying' thing isn't really a problem. You won't even need ZorgSnaps anymore."

"Ix-nay on the oduct-pray admouth-bay," Zorg hissed, still nursing his throat where Felix's blade had caressed it.

"But in all seriousness," Mozenrath went on, "the less I have to clean up after you all killing EACH OTHER, the better, so keep your hands off my weapons technician. I don't care how glitchy his teleporter was."

"He lost me a badass energy sword that could activate a Purge," Felix reminded Mozenrath.

"Well, I'll just build ya a new one, on the house as part of the Zorg lifetime guarantee!" Zorg piped up. "…Which we ain't never had before, but no time like the present to start! You wanna purge one planet? I'll make ya a sword that can purge two. Twice the bang for your buck."

"If we're done here…" Mozenrath opened a Corridor. "Huntsman, take them home and show them around. I want to handle Vexen's requests myself."

"Everyone follow me, now!" Mysterio called out as he stepped into the Corridor, Drake in pursuit. "Step lightly, single file!"

The Huntsman brought up the rear of the line, which gave Mozenrath time to pass him and whisper, "These recruits seem up your alley at least. If they become too much, then shove them on Vexen's shoulders. I'll pacify him with what he wanted."

"I'm certain I can handle them," the Huntsman replied. "This seems to have been a fruitful detour. Even if the…Gorbonian is not to my liking." He shot a glance to where Gwen experimentally put a hand into what seemed to be a person-sized Corridor only for the Darkness to simply defy physics and suck her inside without a problem.

"You've never wished the dragon was on your side?" Mozenrath teased.

"Good luck," the Huntsman told him, obviously not wanting to answer that.

"I won't need it," Mozenrath replied, "but all the same, I appreciate it."

Then, without even thinking, blew the Huntsman a dramatic kiss off his gauntleted hand as he stalked away.

The Huntsman watched him leave, wide-eyed at the overly affectionate gesture, before finally being the last to enter the Corridor.

It hit Mozenrath exactly what he'd done, and he flushed. "I'm not making a habit out of that," he grunted before making a new Corridor to bring him to the next locale on his itinerary.

...

Any other teenager would've thought it a utopian sight. A sandy beach edged with vegetation, beneath a blazing-hot sun, the waters looking invitingly blue and cool. But the girl on the beach didn't care for water. Nor did she care for running and splashing about like any other teenager. She'd thought about it. Tried it a little. It hadn't worked, just like everything else.

So now she sat back on this beach on Ember Island that she had all to herself, edging her heels down into the sand, watching the ocean (that she still didn't like) roll in and out. A sigh escaped her, but it sounded laced with enough haughtiness that she figured she could afford it.

Weren't people supposed to find themselves on this island? Hadn't Zuko?

"Oh, dear girl. Why are you all alone? Where are your friends?"

She flinched. Then, attempting to look as though she hadn't been fazed, turned to look up at the tall woman who suddenly cast a shadow over her – this strange woman, dressed in black, skin so pale it almost looked green, a horned headdress making her seem even taller.

"I don't have friends," the girl stated coldly. "And I don't NEED friends."

"Is that so?"

"Everyone I've ever spoken to has left me unfulfilled." She returned her gaze to the ocean. "Most things leave me unfulfilled these days, as a matter of fact. One might almost start confusing me for Mai."

"Tell me, dear girl, what has left you unfulfilled?"

"Friends," she listed off. "Family. Revenge. Normalcy. Attempts to mingle. Attempts to redeem myself. Attempts to relapse. It may simply be that there is no place for me on this world. And yet I refuse to give up the ghost. I suppose I shall simply have to be the piece that doesn't belong, for I refuse to die, and I refuse to fit in."

"Perhaps you are correct," the woman said. "It may very well be that there is no place for you on this world. And yet that does not exclude the possibility of another world."

"Other worlds don't exist."

"Are you so ready to make such a bold claim? After all, you know of the Spirit World."

"If there were other worlds," the girl asked, "what could they offer me?"

"Here, there is no longer a need for your iron rule," the woman stated. "On a grander scale, perhaps that could change. In the meantime, a new, more suitable territory could be found. And of course, Darkness. Unimaginably deep Darkness, allowing you to tap into a greater power than you have ever known."

"I already have the most power of anyone in this world."

"Another bold claim. Do you believe yourself more powerful than I?"

The girl looked back up at the woman, scowling. "Who are you?"

"A friend," the woman replied. "Your story intrigues me."

"Hmph."

"Perhaps I was too quick to overlook a princess heartbroken," Maleficent went on. "I have seen so many cry their feeble tears. Yet, after a disappointment became clear to me among my ranks, a closer look led me to you and your tale of woe. Perhaps it needs a happier ending. One in which it is you that rises as the phoenix, not your father."

"My father is dead," the girl snapped. "Even that brings me no joy."

"Perhaps because he is not truly dead after all."

"WHAT?" The girl was on her feet. "How can he be alive? WHERE IS HE? TELL ME!" Her hands balled into fists that slightly sparked with blue veins of electricity.

"All in due time," the woman said. "First, I must know where your heart truly lies. Had you the choice, and if your inclination were to come true no matter what you chose, what is the wish your heart makes? To lower yourself and make amends, earning the friendship of your peers? To no longer be judged? Or would you prefer to conquer once again, to reign sovereign, to be among like minds in a rank that allowed several to answer to you?"

"I know which of those options I should choose," the girl replied. "I've known it for a while now, actually. And it's what I've been attempting."

"Is it the one you want to choose?"

The girl's glare became fiery-hot. "No. I want power. MY power. My sanity will return when I control my own destiny. And my destiny is to rule what is rightfully mine, be it here or on any other 'world.'"

"I see you speak with conviction. I can grant you your wish. But first, there is a small matter of business to attend to."

"My father?"

"Indeed."

She smirked. Then smiled. Then outright laughed.

"I want to see him again," the girl said through her tears of laughter. "One last time. I want to see the look on his face. And this time, I don't want ZuZu to take this moment away from me. It's mine! Mine, mine, MINE!"

The woman gave a soft smile as well. "As I had hoped."

...

What Vexen had requested was data on hearts to be transplanted into replicas. And for that, he needed something that Mozenrath couldn't simply recruit or resurrect. After all, there had to be a purpose behind it, a challenge to it.

Why replicate? Because it was what Vexen did, and he swore he was so close to perfecting his project, making them as close to human as possible. Perhaps simply just human at this point.

Mozenrath had offered him a look at some of the files he'd collected, and Vexen had wasted no time figuring out who existed in the great expanse of the cosmos that couldn't be retrieved by the usual means. When it came to the first stop, Mozenrath knew he would have to be a little creative.

The castle's central chamber seemed deserted, which was good. Mozenrath hadn't been keeping tabs on this world's sordid history; all he knew was that at one point, it had been a lush paradise that gave birth to many branches of advanced magical civilization, and then, at another point, it had become an all-but-dead wasteland. As to how many of its native races still existed on it at this point, there might be as little as two or as many as a thousand. It didn't matter, so long as none of them was in that central chamber where the Crystal was stored.

It was an impressive stone, about as tall as Mozenrath himself and broader than his shoulders, floating above a tunnel that dropped straight down into a pit of magma. "They certainly didn't joke around with this one," Mozenrath muttered. For the Crystal, like the Atlantean crystal he was about to attempt to overcome, was one of the few instances of an external Heart of a world. Not a Keyhole, but a physical object that connected to every life, every memory that world had, feeding its Earthpulses.

That was very important because there were several beings that had once lived on this world for quite a long time and now simply did not exist anymore in any form.

When they'd first arrived on this world – explorers of worlds, much like Mozenrath himself, or the Keybearers – they'd been known as the UrSkeks. Then, the Crystal had been broken, and with it, the UrSkeks, each separating into two beings and creating two races. Most tales told called the urRu pure good and the Skeksis pure evil, but Mozenrath knew it was a little more complicated than that, because if you were to separate by Light and Dark, good and evil, you wouldn't end up with two such wildly different races. No, the line was drawn elsewhere, but he couldn't tell that just from the records. The problem was that although each half had lived a separate life from the other, when the Crystal had been healed, so had the UrSkeks. The Skeksis and urRu who hadn't died had merged back into whole, healthy beings and taken their leave of this world to explore more of the cosmos. Those who had died likely merged in the afterlife as well, making resurrection tricky.

Because of course, Vexen had only wanted Skeksis data, finding nothing of use in the urRu. And if one were to pursue a living or dead Skeksis, you would only find them merged with their urRu in the form of UrSkeks. But the Crystal still remembered what it was like to have separate Skeksis and urRu. The Crystal held all the memories of all life that had ever graced the planet Thra. Essentially, it was the magic version of data. And within it, the Skeksis, free of their urRu, still lived on.

Data could be transferred through discs, USBs, and wireless connections, to name a few. Magic was trickier to carry from one place to another. But Mozenrath had found a way. He summoned something to his right hand that at first looked like a weapon, but truly, it was more of a tool. On one end was a pointed Crystal of Ix. On the other, he'd affixed a spherical crystal similar in function to the Crystal of Ix but more storage-oriented. It was, in technical terms, called a "lacrima." The idea was simple: the Crystal of Ix would suck out the memories on one end and store them in the lacrima on the other.

Mozenrath approached, ready to begin the transfer, but first, curiosity got the better of him. If the Crystal held all memory of this world and a little bit beyond, he had to know what it had seen that he hadn't.

He raised his bare left hand, placing it on the cool, hard surface of the crystal.

The instant he made contact, he was transported to a rushing river of scenes and concepts. The three suns rose and set and rose and set as cities were built and then crumbled to dust and then were rebuilt. Nature bloomed as rivers and trees and flowers and every last animal and one enormous tree that acted as the Heart during the Crystal's years of brokenness. Podlings threw parties, Gelflings waged wars, Fizzgigs rolled about the forests. Then the UrSkeks came, and they split along with the Crystal, and now Mozenrath understood what the difference was: urRu were passive, content with what they had, minimalist, ascetic, while Skeksis wanted and pursued, greedy and gluttonous and envious, seeking instant gratification and constant activity fueled by an undying ambition. The will to take what you wanted versus lacking the spine to do so, as Mozenrath saw it, though he also was made quite aware that was only one lens through which to view the whole situation. As with the Childlike Empress, he was well aware he was in the presence of something that he couldn't command or dictate. So he watched the Skeksis assign their roles to create a broken luxury while the urRu hid themselves away and designated their own societal roles, and eventually, they came back together and left this world to its own devices, but as to where they had gone, there was more out there that the Crystal knew than Mozenrath had expected. He was now on a journey through a room called an "Orrery," a crude map of the cosmos, until he had stars and planets flying past him, each with their own grand history evolving, magic pulsing from their Hearts, nebula colors and glittering constellations that pulled Fate across the warp of time itself –

When he was overcome by a distinct sense of apprehension and pulled away, breaking the contact. He'd been sucked in almost addictively. That much was clear. As Mozenrath backed away from the Crystal, breathing now heavy, he wondered how much time he had spent there, hypnotized by it. To his mind, it had been a minute at most. Probably less. But, knowing how this sort of thing worked, he retrieved his scroll to double-check the clock.

Oh. It had been an hour. It was blind luck that no one had wandered in to find him tampering with the Crystal.

So he set to work immediately, pointing the staff at the Crystal and surging a will through it to filter out everything related to the Skeksis. A distinct purple light began to filter into the Crystal of Ix as he muttered the incantation, and it pooled in the lacrima, deepening in shade as the concentration became more dense.

Then he'd collected it all (though probably more accurately a copy; he couldn't imagine the Crystal giving the information up from itself permanently) and stole down a side hallway, speed-dialing a particular contact.

"WHAT is it?" Vexen barked from the other end.

"Did something annoy you in particular today," Mozenrath asked, "or is that how you always answer your scroll?"

"This had better be important, Mozenrath."

"I just thought you might want a progress report," Mozenrath related. "I currently have in my hand a staff containing the data on every last Skeksis, without a single urRu to poison the pool."

Vexen's tone seemed to sweeten somewhat as he replied, "Very good. Though I am curious: how did you extract such data?"

"Not a difficult concept," Mozenrath told him. "Just hooking a Crystal of Ix up to a lacrima in order to extract and collect the memory."

"You WHAT?"

Mozenrath flinched, then scowled. "Created an ingenious device in order to – "

"Do you have ANY IDEA what could've happened if your calculations had been off? If your hypothesis had been wrong? Putting not one, not TWO, but THREE magically-resonant crystals in such proximity with such opposing wavelengths could have caused a resonance cascade! We would've seen a tear in reality itself! Time and space would no longer behave according to reason, and as the tear grew, then all we seek to conquer and experiment with would soon become – "

Mozenrath hung up. "I don't know why I expected him to be grateful," he groaned as he opened the door to the next stop.

...

"And heeeeere we are!" Snatcher put out his arms as he was first to exit the Corridor into the safehouse, with Randall following and Mim and Discord behind. "Our humble abode!"

"The only thing HUMBLE we'll ever have," Discord added.

"Huh." Randall flicked, almost lightning-fast, from one wall to another, investigating. "It's not much. Needs more purple."

"I agree!" Mim crowed. "Shall we fix that?"

And so Scarlet, Rémington, and Aghoul burst in on Snatcher and Randall watching Mim and Discord magically paint the entire safehouse interior purple.

"Ah, Mr. Aghoul!" Snatcher greeted. "Mr. Smisse! Mrs. Overkill! May I introduce you to Mr. Boggs: our newest cohort?"

"How ya doin'?" Randall asked, giving a fanged smirk.

"Ummmm…not great," Scarlet said worriedly.

"We just need to stay calm," Aghoul reminded her. "After all, death is cheap."

"But didn't the Overtakers figure that out?" Rémington recalled. "They might've opted for more of a 'fate worse than death' direction."

"What are we talking about?" Snatcher asked. "Who's about to meet a fate worse than death?"

All three gave him a look that spoke of something none of them wanted to say, but all needed to.

Snatcher, at the time, still hadn't grasped how serious the situation was. That was until he began to ask "Wait, Where's – "

And then his heart plummeted.

...

They'd used earthbending to create a small sandbar out in the middle of Lake Laogai. It was here that several Dai Li agents crowded around their captive. In order to ensure he couldn't and wouldn't go anywhere, they'd encased his hands and feet in discs of solid rock that he couldn't possibly break with his own manpower.

"Archibald Snatcher," the leader of the pack said with a smirk as he looked directly into the prisoner's emerald eyes. "You have been arrested for the crime of treason and are to be executed."

Now more than ever Roman Torchwick wished he was just stoned out of his mind.

"Fuck off," he spat.

"No thank you," the agent replied slyly. "Have you anything to say for yourself before you meet your demise?"

"Look," Roman snapped back. "You and I both know this is just a charade. I die, Righty handwaves me back to life, and I do mean that literally, and what do any of us get out of this?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," the agent replied. "However…Earth Queen Vanessa, oddly enough, warned us you might have that particular argument about immortality, and therefore advised me to give you the response that this is a warning and a demonstration, and should you in fact be immortal, that will not strip away her victory upon this field and the knowledge that you were inferior against her."

Roman let out a guttural growl. "She's SERIOUSLY gonna be that petty. Then again, I'm not one to talk…"

Speaking of talking, he should probably keep this one rambling for a while so he could assess his situation and see if he could think of any unorthodox way to break out of his bonds before they gave him the plunge. And was it too much to hope that at least one of his friends could put in an appearance?

"I mean," he babbled on, attempting to buy time, "if this was really about teaching me a lesson in style, why not invite the general public? Because I am noting a distinct lack of audience on these shores."

"We in the Earth Kingdom do not publicize such morbidity," the agent replied.

"Awww, c'moooon!" Roman whined. "Does NOBODY attend a good old-fashioned public execution anymore? You know, the hanging? The guillotine? People used to love that shit! It was entertaining!"

As Roman kept confusing the agent, he didn't notice that far outside his peripheral vision, along the side bank, Snatcher, Scarlet, Aghoul, Mim, Discord, Randall, and Rémington had skidded along the sand at the end of the tree line, careful to keep under the cover of the foliage.

(And all they'd needed to do in order to figure out what was happening to Roman was have Snatcher ask a few of the right people while wearing a Discord-supplied wide-brimmed hat and gloves to hide his fishier features.)

"Okay, what is this?" Scarlet asked, gesturing out to the lake. "What is this setup?"

"Well, I should think it would be OBVIOUS," Discord sighed.

"They're going to drown him!" Aghoul chuckled gleefully, rubbing his hands together.

"Oh, and they've used their bending to bind his limbs AND weigh them down so he can't break it!" Mim chortled. "How awful!"

"I WOULD APPRECIATE IF YOU DID NOT!" Snatcher raged at them.

"Yeahhhhh, that's the boyfriend, isn't it?" Randall stated.

"What're we going to do?" Snatcher babbled. "We've got to do something. Some sort of plan. Need a plan, yes, a plan, but WHAT plan?"

"Maybe if you stopped talking to yourself, you could think of one," Rémington suggested dryly. "Though I'm not sure what the big deal is. Mozenrath can just snap him back to life later."

"IT'S THE PRINCIPLE OF THE THING!" Snatcher yelled at him. "I CAN'T – WE CAN'T LET MS. MALEFICENT THINK SHE'S WON! NOT LIKE THIS!"

"And the fact that he's your boyfriend has nothing to do with this," Randall said dryly.

"While you're all making witty banter," Snatcher reminded them, "we could be plotting how to FREE HIM."

"All right, all right." Mim waved it all aside. "Obviously, we've got to come in hot with magic."

"But we've also got to be diplomatic about it," Aghoul said. "There's a strong chance Ursula did this for the very purpose of baiting us all to one place."

"Doubtful," Snatcher told him. "She wants us thrown off our game, not incapacitated. Else this execution wouldn't have been hidden nor would it be an execution."

"So we just go in there guns blazing?" Discord asked, holding a pair of revolvers and wearing a cowboy hat and matching bandanna.

"I like guns blazing." Rémington said, twirling his pistols.

"All right, then," Snatcher declared. "On my count. One!"

Mim charged up two fistfuls of magic. Aghoul drew back his scythe. Randall camouflaged completely with his environment. Scarlet braced for battle. Discord added a bowie knife between his teeth. Rémington struck a dramatic pose, guns pointed.

"Two!"

"And another thing," Roman asked. "Do I get a last request, or – "

"You've delayed enough," the agent snarled.

"Thr – "

The half of the sandbar holding Roman up dissolved, plunging him immediately into the depths of the lake before anyone could move.

"NO! ROMAN!"

Most of them were thrown by this development. Hesitating just a moment longer before reformulating the plan. But Snatcher, for once, was past scheming. There was no time to come up with a plan. He let pure instinct carry him off the shore and into the depths of the lake ahead of him.

He hadn't even remembered he could now breathe water until it became actually relevant to know that.

His eyes scanned the murky waters, catching the faintest glimpse of a rapidly-dropping silhouette going further down, down, down into the dark. Immediately, he was chasing after it, all inhibitions gone, all grudges dropped, because there was only one thing he needed to focus on now and it was falling fast. Luckily, Snatcher's fins were quite powerful, taking him downward even faster than Roman could drop, despite the increasing water pressure.

When Roman hit the water, his first thought was that this couldn't be any worse than the jar of water that Jafar had put him in back on Atmos to make him perpetually drown. He'd done this before, it wasn't that bad –

But he'd only been there for so long before rescue had arrived. And when the time surpassed that and he was still falling through the dark, pressure on all sides, no air to breathe, his hands and feet impossibly encased in solid rock, it stopped being like that enchanted water bottle and more like the other time he'd been suffocated from all sides, unable to move his limbs.

The bird.

(No no no no don't think about that, don't, can't think about anything else, warm and wet and swallowed going to die no, breathe, breathe – no, breathing not good underwater, don't breathe, can't breathe, but stay calm, please just stay calm, can't, can't can't can't, no no no no no no no no not again not again not again please anyone anything out there that is listening I can't do this again - )

There had been just enough time in Snatcher's descent for him to work out exactly what he was going to do when he caught up to Roman. If he understood correctly how gills worked, that meant he was currently inhaling water and exhaling pure oxygen. He'd have to bank on it, because Roman – his eyes squeezed shut, the look of utter terror on his face, he had never deserved this – was going to need a supply somehow.

Maybe there was a better way to transfer it, but Snatcher could only think of one method, and with no warning, he seized Roman's forearms in his webbed, clawed hands, pressing his lips hard to Roman's.

Roman's eyes snapped open long enough for him to realize what was going on. At first, he flinched. But then, well, the timing was so good, it had to be a dream, and he needed more than just air right then. He needed a lifeline.

He leaned right into the kiss as they both descended, letting Snatcher's tongue part his lips to breathe into him. The air was the freshest he could remember tasting. If his hands had been free to throw around Snatcher, they would've been, but as it were, he just had to try and avoid ramming that particular rock into his rescuer's stomach while practically melting into him.

No idea how this was going to save him in the long run, but he'd take it. He was breathing steadily, through the other's gills into his lungs before expelling bubbles though his nostrils, and all of his regrets congealed and immediately dissipated. He could try and make things right later. What mattered now was that Archibald Snatcher wasn't going to let him be starved of air in a second Grimm esophagus.

(Underwater, he was underwater, he had to remember that. No Grimm. It wasn't there.)

They stopped descending; Roman had hit the bottom of the lake, the rock around his feet planted firmly in the sand. No better time to start strategizing an escape than now. Snatcher gave Roman's shoulder two taps to indicate he was going to break contact, then pulled away, and in an instant, Roman almost hyperventilated two lungfuls of water, but found the restraint to avoid killing himself that way.

Snatcher raked his claws over the disc of rock around Roman's feet. It was a terrifyingly thorough job, as though they'd just turned the rock into liquid, sank him in, and froze it like unyielding ice. No wiggle room, no locks or mechanisms necessary. It was the biggest weight; Snatcher was largely confident he could take Roman back up with his hands still bound, but the rock around his feet was an extreme deterrent at the moment and far too heavy to carry. So Snatcher began to try and at least crack the rock, rapping on it with his knuckles, digging his claws in further, hoping he had also been gifted the superhuman strength to rip it open with his bare hands. No such luck; all he did was leave superficial indentations.

He felt a tug on his sleeve; Roman gestured frantically toward his face, and Snatcher knew he would need another dose of oxygen. They kissed once more, passing breath, and this time, Snatcher's hands moved all the way around to rest on Roman's back, one finger instinctively trailing a claw-point down his spine.

Roman shivered, but in such a way that it sloughed tension off rather than adding it to his body. His tongue flicked desperately about the shared cavern of their mouths, attempting to express gratitude where his bound hands couldn't.

Then Snatcher parted from him again to begin examining the binding rocks once more. Roman could feel his heart about ready to burst from his chest for more than one reason, but he watched Snatcher fruitlessly tug at the stone, unable to do anything but let this play out. He was almost at the point where he might even say the words "Thank you" point-blank after this was all over.

When he spotted the shark, he began to truly struggle, trying to break the rock himself. Why there should even be a shark here, he couldn't fathom, but the silhouette slowly cutting through the dark of the lake bottom was unmistakable and the absolute last thing he needed. His nerves on high alert, he kept jerking at the rocks, just needing to be free and needing it now.

Roman's frenzy alerted Snatcher that something new was amiss; he turned to see the same foreboding shape heading toward them both. And so he did the only thing he could do. He swam to position himself between the predator and Roman, absolutely and sincerely ready to fight the shark with his bare hands.

But a familiar laugh bubbled through the water, muffled by the pressure; "Oh, I got you good!"

Snatcher could have killed Mim for pulling that stunt. Because it was her, shaped like a rather round shark as she cut through the water.

"Now, let's see." She hovered over the rock binding Roman's feet, and as for Roman, he was using all his willpower to keep from using the rock around his hands to bean her on the skull until one or the other cracked. "A little magic should do the trick here. Zim-zabberim-ZIM!"

The rock was rubble, and Roman's feet were finally free.

"And one more!" Mim nosed at the rock around Roman's hands, sending a jolt of sparks into it, and then it was merely dust. "There we are!"

Roman could barely find the will through his disorientation to begin the ascent to the surface. However, he didn't need to. Because Snatcher had thrown one arm around his waist while using the other along with his feet to propel them both back up to the surface as fast as he could, which was really a matter of seconds for him.

No, actually, the air that Roman gasped once he broke the surface held the new record for the freshest he'd tasted.

He wasn't exactly proud of how he rasped and sputtered as he was brought to the shore, and once they were both on terra firma, Snatcher let Roman go so the redhead could get his bearings on his own for once. Roman rested on hands and knees in the sand, attempting to slow his breathing as his hair slopped wetly into his face. It only then occurred to him that his hat had been lost a while ago, and that was rather a disappointment.

"Roman," Snatcher panted, reaching out to touch his shoulder. "You're all right now, you're all right, I'm – "

But he remembered. Roman would want no contact with him. He withdrew his hand.

And Roman caught his wrist, raising his head to force Snatcher to make eye contact. "Don't," he said, and Snatcher recognized the spark in his eyes. "That was the sexiest fucking thing I've ever done in my life. I was breathing through your fucking mouth! Okay, look, I know I wasn't the biggest fan of the whole fish thing at first, but I'm pretty sure you seriously just gave me a new fetish, and if we weren't outside in plain sight, I'd demand that you pin me down right here and – WAIT."

It finally sank in what he'd heard. Roman's face went utterly pale, eyes as wide as could be. "DID YOU JUST USE MY FUCKING FIRST NAME?"

Well. So Snatcher had.

"…It was past time" was all he could manage.

Now Roman could and did throw his arms around Snatcher, this time being the one to initiate the kiss, trying to convey through touch just how overflowing he was with gratitude and other emotions he didn't really care to name.

"Roman," Snatcher managed around the other's lips. "We've got to get on the move. Who knows what surveillance awaits."

"Right…right."

Snatcher stood, then took off into the forest ahead of the beach. Then realized Roman wasn't alongside him. He turned around just in time to see Roman run right into a tree.

It would've been comedic if it weren't for the fact that the utter despair in Roman's tone when he said "Damn it…" and the way his eyes simply looked as though they weren't focusing clued Snatcher in that this was no mere accident.

"Are you…?" Snatcher rushed back to him.

"Fine," Roman panted. "I'm fine." This, as he stumbled, nearly dropping to one knee, proving just how disoriented he was.

When Snatcher threw an arm around his waist to prop him up, Roman's arm went over Snatcher's shoulders, and he put a harsh whisper into Snatcher's ear: "Don't you fucking let go."

"I won't."

They ran together, trying to keep the illusion that they just wanted closeness when it was clear Roman couldn't make any headway on his own. At a clearing ahead, a familiar patchwork of shapes and colors flagged them down.

"You know," Discord said as the pair entered the grassy area where he'd called in Aghoul, Randall, Rémington, and Scarlet, "if you'd waited maybe ten seconds, we could've done something less messy than that."

"If I'd WAITED?" Snatcher growled back. "You and I both know that option was NEVER on the table!"

"By the way," Roman pointed out, "I'm, uh, over the fish thing." A visible wink. "Or maybe not OVER it, but currently on high alert over it in a different sense."

"It's your kink now, isn't it?" Rémington guessed.

Snatcher admonished "MR. SMISSE" at the same time Roman said "Oh, HELL yes."

"Good to have you back," Scarlet sighed.

"Good to be back," Roman replied. "And loving the tails, Tails."

Mim appeared in a shower of sparks. "Well," she huffed, "THAT was certainly a way to get us angry."

"I thought it was more of a warning-type scenario," Randall brought up. "You know, 'Stop messing around or you're next.'"

"Yeah, well – " Roman did a double take. "Wait a tick. Who's this?"

"Randall," Mim said without a single word more of explanation.

After a long silence, Roman followed up, "And Randall is…?"

"Picked me up from Monstropolis," Randall said smugly, folding both sets of arms. "You could say despair gave me new hope. I'm your resident expert in heartbreak."

"Listen," Roman sighed, "there is WAY too much here to unpack. Just…you know what? I am WAY past knocking you picking up any more Faunus. I just don't care anymore. So long as this one can party hard, just let him crash on the couch. I don't give a fuck."

"Um…thanks?" Randall replied.

But really, all considered, Roman wasn't about to underestimate another monster. No – he didn't even want to think of Snatcher as that anymore. He leaned over to mutter "You can let go now" in a decisive tone.

Snatcher didn't question it, and thankfully, when he removed his arm, Roman now seemed certain of his surroundings and his own sense of balance.

"But you know what I do give a fuck about?" Roman went on. "The fact that those ASSHOLES think they can pull shit like this and it will make us back DOWN. Because if anything, this has made me not want to go home until we have BURNED THEM THE FUCK DOWN."

"Burned down?" Mim's face lit up. "Ooh, I like the sounds of that!"

"One palace-sized fire, coming up!" Discord said with a grin.

"Now, wait!" Aghoul broke in. "You DO remember what brought them here in the first place, don't you?"

"Some kinda library?" Roman suggested.

"The Wan Shi Tong Library, to be precise," Aghoul went on. "An expansive library of knowledge planted smack-dab in the middle of the Spirit World. Any moment now, they might be there rummaging through the collection."

"So?" Rémington asked. "That mean we have to wait until they get home?"

"Oh, did I neglect to mention?" Aghoul realized. "I can open a gate to the Spirit World."

"Me too!" Discord said with a grin. He then pouted; "But this means I can't set the whole palace on fire, doesn't it?"

"I thought you spent like a million years trying to escape the Spirit World?" Roman recalled.

"That was the NETHERWORLD," Aghoul corrected, "and it was just shy of a thousand!"

"The Netherworld and the Spirit World are the same thing," Rémington said.

"Wha – " Aghoul flinched. "Are you attempting to corpsesplain the Netherworld and the Spirit World to an undead? It's different, and I know it's different because I HAVE BEEN TO BOTH! What would you even know about either? You'd just be concerned with Ingloriam, which is a THIRD plane entirely, and NO, I can't open a portal to THAT one!"

"To be clear," Snatcher stated, "all in favor of following the Overtakers to their library and getting our revenge by simply setting all their precious knowledge aflame, say 'I.'"

A unanimous and forceful "I!" was yelled back at him.

"Good," Snatcher replied. "Because really, it's our only option at this point."

...

The Academy for Gifted Juveniles where Tsumugi Shirogane had been Team DanganRonpa's avatar in hosting the real-life killing game that served as the fifty-third installment of her favorite fictional saga had ended in flames and rubble. No one in town even wanted anything to do with it. It was a grim reminder of what they'd all let happen. Each and every one of them who'd ever tuned in to DanganRonpa on television was complicit. So they left the Academy's ruins where they lay, not willing to disturb so much as a plank out of place.

Which was a really good thing for Mozenrath.

He stood in the courtyard of what had once been the labyrinthine school of horrors, observing the rubble. "Ohhh, it's destroyed!" he said dramatically, pretending to be dismayed. "But where does that get us?"

He smirked. "Exactly where I want to be."

His hand rose into the air, glowing almost blindingly blue. The debris began to shift.

He cast a version of the repairing charm he'd used on the table in Knowhere, though this was a far more complex version of it. Everything but the wall that had cut the school off from society was rebuilt from the ground up in a matter of minutes, forming itself into an impressive bastion.

Once the work was complete, Mozenrath let the spell down and immediately felt the recoil surge through his right arm and into the rest of his body, so agonizing that it temporarily forced him to a knee. But no one saw, so when the pain subsided to a dull throb, he got up and stalked it off.

On the way into the school, he felt a crunch beneath his feet. Looking down, he winced. His charm had managed to put that awful Monokuma bear back together, but not give it any programming or connection to a pilot, so it was simply dormant. But that wasn't what Mozenrath had stepped on. He'd also managed to put back together the skeleton of some poor soul who'd died in the wreckage, holding onto this Monokuma for some reason.

"Just glad Aghoul's not here," he muttered. "He'd probably say something about how much of a looker this one is."

Kicking the skeleton aside, Mozenrath headed into the building, following the map he'd plotted out on his scroll. Apparently, Vexen had marathonned several hours of reality television programming on his own scroll to get these floor plans, and there had to be a way to use that to blackmail him somehow and Mozenrath knew it. But the finale twist had shown him the room he needed to enter, which, surprisingly, wasn't any of the Ultimate Labs decked out to accommodate specific talents or the library filled with strange books but instead what appeared at first to be an ordinary classroom.

Mozenrath, of course, knew better. He approached one of the desks, prying up the top to reveal a glowing blue interface with a keyboard stretched across it. Deftly, he typed in what he wanted.

The blackboard up front transformed into a computer monitor, with a quartet of sub-monitors unfolding from the wall paneling around it. The words "Flashback Light Setup" greeted Mozenrath.

The Flashback Lights were what Team DanganRonpa had used to implant false memories into their subjects. A more convenient way to cut through what Castle Oblivion had taken thirteen floors to accomplish, Mozenrath thought, though really, that was only for the humor of spiting Vexen. Surely Vexen had thought of that, though, because he had chosen this.

The participants in the fifty-third DanganRonpa were, like the UrSkeks, hybrids of dual personalities. There had been the people they were before the kidnapping and the people that Tsumugi had programmed them to be. Resurrecting any would pose a problem: a fifty percent chance of getting the wrong persona. Or maybe a higher probability of getting some horrible mishmash of both. (Though apparently that Kaito character had existed on a parallel world and died as himself, but he, much like the three survivors of this game, was not worth tracking down. Too heroic.)

With the Flashback Lights, however, Mozenrath had access to a stored database of memories for each student: a mix of what they needed to "know" for their background to begin the game and what they experienced in these halls. As he entered that base, he took note of the number of files: sixteen. Meaning the mole had copied herself into the base as well. Maybe to ensure she would live on after death.

Now came the quandary of selecting the perfect subject to be replicated. Mozenrath figured he'd start with the killers. Kaede Akamatsu, he could skip. Too righteous. But the second murderer…

"Kirumi Tojo," he muttered, hovering over her name. "Technically usurped the Prime Minister seat, if only in her own little world. Proceeded to commit gruesome murder by piranha in order to get back to her rightful place on the throne. Could be promising…or could have thought sacrificing the one was better for the good of the many, which is a little too moral for my standards. Oh, well. Only one way to find out."

He selected the name. Then "All Memories." A nearby locker emitted a "CLUNK" sound, and when Mozenrath magically opened the door, there, inside, was what seemed to be a futuristic industrial flashlight. This, he knew, contained every last bit of data on Kirumi Tojo as she had existed in Tsumugi's game.

"Next!" Mozenrath proclaimed. "Korekiyo Shinguji. Hmm…incestuous, obsessive lover, left a trail of gruesome murders in his wake to appease his dead sister. Definitely bloodthirsty enough, but we can't really have somebody around who will pick off the women so his sister can get more 'friends.' And given that the sister never existed and has no data, that's gonna be a real problem."

But he shrugged. "Still…"

A second Flashback Light clunked into the locker.

"Next," Mozenrath said to himself. "Kokichi Oma. He – "

Then stopped. Flinched. "Wait a minute! If it's that easy, why am I being choosy? Let's just copy all of them! Who cares about the heroes? Vexen can figure that part out! He just wants data, and I'll give him enough data to keep him from bothering the rest of us for months!"

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Fourteen more Flashback Lights hit the locker base; Mozenrath stuffed them into his enchanted bag and drew the string. "And now he can't say I never did anything for him."

With that, he turned and was on his merry way.

...

Wan Shi Tong's library was practically a city in and of itself. If you were not in the Spirit World, your version of the library would have been a ruin filled with sand. But in the Spirit World, it was still a cavernous building throughout which souls were free to walk, even if there was more sand pooled in the halls than it seemed there should be. Hundreds of floors extended downward, separated by marble balconies edged with stone buttresses in the shape of owl faces.

"Okaaaaaaayyyyy," Roman said, and his words echoed throughout the immense building. "So burning this place down might be more difficult than previously imagined."

"Books are still flammable," Rémington reminded him.

"And all we've got to do is take whatever the Overtakers are looking for before they can get here," Snatcher said with a grin.

"Or after they get here," Aghoul amended. "Just so long as the timing works out that we can bring the house down on them."

"You know, this is really strange!" Discord commented, paw to his chin. "I would've thought Wan Shi Tong would've shown up to greet us by now."

"You know," Scarlet realized, "it never occurred to me to ask who Wan Shi Tong actually is."

"Oh, quite the character," Discord related. "He's just a bit of a stickler about people using the knowledge he's collected for violence, so a while back, he sank the library so nobody could use that information for anything. If he knew we were here, oh, he would be SO angry!"

"You coulda brought that up, I dunno, a lot earlier," Randall said coldly.

"I suppose it's also a bad time to mention that he's an enormous owl with black feathers looking to devour anyone who trespasses," Discord muttered.

"WHA – " Roman's flinch coursed through his whole body. "UH, YEAH, YOU COULD'VE MENTIONED THAT A LOT FUCKING SOONER!"

The fact that Snatcher's hand instinctively went up to Roman's shoulder probably should've been a comfort, but for Roman, it was a mark of shame. More and more, he was unable to prevent that nasty little fear of his from showing right through. He shouldn't have needed a hand on his shoulder. But he was at least diplomatically savvy enough to know not to roll the hand off lest Snatcher think it had something to do with his mutation once more.

"Well, he isn't here now." Discord shrugged. "I say we sally forth!"

"Before he decides to make us into owl pellets," Roman agreed.

"So, uhhhh…" Scarlet glanced around. "If you were an Overtaker, what would you be looking for?"

"Overtaking manuals, of course," Aghoul stated.

"Wha – no," Scarlet replied.

"I'd want to go after the most destructive and forbidden knowledge here!" Mim cackled. "Then again, I'd want that if I WASN'T an Overtaker, so take that with a grain of salt."

"I thought I'd heard once that the juicy stuff was on the lowest floor," Discord mused.

"Better than nothin'," Randall sighed. "So. One of you magic folks got a way to get us down there faster than taking the stairs, or…?"

Discord snapped, and levitating in the space left by the walkways was a crystal lift similar to those utilized in the Radiant Garden castle. "All aboard!" Discord yelled as he entered it, now wearing a bellhop's uniform.

The others piled in, and the lift began to descend: just fast enough to make it worth prioritizing over the stairs, but not fast enough to cause anyone distress.

"Are you quite all right?" Snatcher muttered to Roman.

"I'm peeved is what I am," Roman replied, and that wasn't a lie, just an omission.

"You know," Scarlet said as she glimpsed some of the signs above the wings they descended past, "this would make an amazing place to explore if we had the time and weren't obligated to commit arson here. I wonder what they have recorded here that we could learn!"

"Just don't mention any of this to Mozenrath," Mim huffed. "If he walks in here, why, he'll never leave."

"I wouldn't mention it to Vexen, either," Aghoul added. "Then again…he is rather insufferable. Maybe we SHOULD bring it up to him."

The lift made it all the way to the lowest floor without any interruption by any giant owls. The group disembarked only to find no wings here whatsoever: just blank stone walls, save an enormous tiled mural on the far end.

"Well, lookee here!" Aghoul marched up to the mural, which depicted five circles. The four on the outer corners bore the symbols for the Water Tribe, the Fire Nation, the Earth Kingdom, and the Air Nomads, in their colors. In each, a small alcove was set at the bottom. An unlit brazier for Fire, a dry fountain for Water, a still pinwheel for Air, a cracked stone for Earth. The central circle, which was the smallest, was done in pitch-black tile, no symbol to be seen.

"Weird," Scarlet said as she approached. "Why would they bother putting this here if it was just gonna be empty space?"

"No idea," Roman told her, "but whatever we want, it's obviously not here, so let's hitch a ride out."

"No, no, no," Scarlet insisted. "This mural, it's too complicated and it has all those weird things. This MEANS something."

"It certainly does look like some sort of magical altar," Aghoul mused.

"Not magic," Discord corrected. "Bending. But in our case, magic will do."

"I wonder what would happen if you activated all of the empty bits," Mim pondered. "Let's see here…"

She waved her hands about. The brazier lit. The fountain surged with water. The stone sealed itself up. The pinwheel began to turn.

And immediately as she'd set those things into motion, they immediately ceased.

"WHAT?" Mim yelled. "WHY, YOUUUU…I'M GOING TO TEAR THROUGH THIS WALL WITH MY BARE HANDS!"

The explosive blast she sent at the wall mural was absorbed right into the tile.

"Now, that's some strong magic!" Aghoul noted.

"What's the point of any of this?" Snatcher groaned.

"The point is," Discord muttered, "you'd need benders from all four nations or the Avatar in order to activate the mural. Which means there's an extra piece to it that the Avatar would be expected to know." He snapped his fingers; "I've GOT it! It has to go in order!"

"Order?" Snatcher repeated. "What ORDER?"

"Why, the Avatar Cycle!" Discord chortled. "It's so simple, now, I don't know why I didn't see it before! See, you start with fire, presumably, because the first Avatar was a firebender…"

He lit the brazier with magic, letting the flame glow brightly as it stretched upward.

"Then air…"

The pinwheel began to turn with a breeze, slowly at first but picking up speed.

"Water's next…"

The fountain flowed with clear, pure water.

"And if I'm right…"

Once the broken stone was made whole again, the central panel changed distinctly. Tiles lit up a bright white to reveal a fifth symbol: a many-pointed star, with tinier tiles indicating energy radiating from it. Once the fifth symbol was revealed, a fine crack became visible down the mural's center, and the halves began to slide apart, revealing themselves to truly be a massive double door.

But once it had slid half open, a sudden gust of wind caught everyone's attention. Turning, they could see the enormous dark shape gliding down to them on outstretched wings at top speed.

Roman was first through the door into the chamber beyond; the others hurried along as quickly as they could to avoid the wrath of Wan Shi Tong. Discord quickly clapped his claw and paw together so that the door would speed up and close behind them.

On the other side of the door was a wing that hardly looked anything like the dark stone halls they'd passed. This chamber seemed to pulsate with light. Ten stories high, its lowest level was riddled with a maze of bookshelves. Above, one could see the nine other balconies that edged over each other, holding even more books. Every wood surface here was painted either white or gold; the floor was a sort of white marble mottled with a pyrite glitter. The ceiling was adorned with another mural, this one painted: half daytime sky, half nighttime, with sun and moon offsetting each other.

"Well, this looks like the juicy stuff," Rémington muttered.

"Okay, great!" Scarlet clapped her hands. "Let's burn this baby down!"

"Now, where's he gone off to…?" Snatcher had taken notice that Roman was definitely not with them, having run into the thick of the shelves to further escape Wan Shi Tong. "ROOOOO-MAAAAN! YOU'RE ABOUT TO MISS THE BEST PART OF IT!" He shrugged. "If we start setting fires, he'll get jealous eventually and come out of hiding."

"Hearing you actually call him 'Roman' is the weirdest thing I know of," Rémington stated. "Even weirder than being chased in here by a giant spirit owl."

"Now that you mention it," Discord realized, "that WAS rather odd."

"You SAID he'd show up eventually!" Randall reminded him.

"Yes, well, he usually ANNOUNCES his presence," Discord recalled. "And doesn't wait until we've found the absolute worst thing we could find from his point of view. You all go peruse the reading material for a bit; I'm going to check on something. Don't start the pyromania without me."

Without waiting to see what the others would even do, Discord made himself intangible and simply slipped through the mural wall as a ghost might.

Wan Shi Tong awaited him on the other side. Still. Unmoving. Suspended in midair. The expression in his eyes was almost dead.

No, Discord realized. It was exactly dead. He was looking at a fresh corpse, and only now were the cables that attached its wings to the upper floors visible.

"They must've rigged him to the door!" Discord realized. "Which means – "

He zipped through the wall once again, to the hidden chamber beyond. "Friends! I'm afraid it may be a – "

Mim, Aghoul, Snatcher, Rémington, Scarlet, and Randall were backed up against said wall, stared down by a quite smug Ursula, Joker, Zurg, Scar, and Ozai. Which might not have looked like such bad odds if not for the hundreds of yellow battle robots – Zurg's Hornets – that had appeared from around every possible corner.

"Yes, that's about what I expected," Discord groaned.

"So," Ursula posed. "Came to beat us to the punch, did you?"

"We're not here for your texts," Snatcher told her.

"We're just here to heat things up," Aghoul added.

"Fire, is it?" Ursula snickered. "Well, we've got plenty of that."

Zurg then broke down laughing; "Oh, this is TOO delicious! They actually didn't make it to the execution in time!"

"Yes, we did," Rémington huffed.

"Really?" Scar smirked. "Then where is the one we sought to execute?"

"Oh boy," Scarlet whimpered. "Not good."

"He's here, isn't he?" Ozai snarled. "Attempting a cowardly attack from behind!"

"HORNETS!" Zurg yelled. "FLUSH OUT THE ONE THEY CALL 'ROMAN TORCHWICK'! …Or, you know, the one they've been calling 'Archibald Snatcher' because of his little switcheroo." He glanced over to Snatcher as his bots diverted enough forces from the WHAM ARMY to begin searching the chamber. "You're the real one, right? Or is it that one?" He pointed at Rémington.

"You know, you have SOME nerve," Discord growled. "Breaking into the Spirit World, killing one of my oldest and dearest…no, wait, I never really did like him, but I at least KNEW him, so that should mean SOMETHING. And on top of it all, you attempt to pin us down with a bunch of ROBOTS?"

"See the fate of Wan Shi Tong as a warning," Ozai growled at Discord.

"Oh, I don't know," Joker said as he nudged Ozai with his elbow – which made Ozai recoil in disgust. "I'm hoping they find a way to surprise me. After all, that one IS chaos incarnate. So, what'll it be? Filling all the Hornets with bombs? Demolishing us with a wave of chili sauce?"

"Oh, how charming," Snatcher said, voice dripping with faux honey. "How utterly amusing. You think Mr. Discord's the one to worry about."

"Ah, yes," Scar stated. "I recognize him now. The one who seems to throw himself into danger despite having so little to offer."

Snatcher dared to take a step forward, then another. "I wouldn't underestimate me, were I you," he snarled. "After all, a beast such as yourself could hardly dream of being what I've become. But a man…a man can dream, can strive, can achieve. Can read the great classic texts; quote 'Alas, poor Yorick' and all that goes with it."

Aghoul realized exactly what he was being told and smirked.

"Oh, that's right." Snatcher pretended to only just realize. "I'm no longer a man, aren't I? I'm something else. Something stranger, more horrifying."

"You are a disgusting abomination that should never have existed!" Ozai snapped.

"Well, yes…that." Snatcher smiled slyly. "But more than that…I'm superhuman. Mr. Aghoul, if you WOULD – "

Aghoul pitched the skull bomb out in front of Snatcher, who, having remembered the other thing Gill did best, spat. The skull was encased in green mucus by the time it exploded, sending an utter rain of the mutagen splattering outward onto the Overtakers and their Hornets. It served as a diversion just long enough.

"RUN!" Snatcher commanded, and he, Aghoul, Mim, Discord, Rémington, Scarlet, and Randall each took a different way through the mazelike shelves.

"Let's burn this place to the GROUND!" Mim crowed, trailing a hand along the spines of a nearby bookshelf as she took off; they were immediately set ablaze.

"Eeeewwww!" Zurg shook the slime off his armor. "Don't tell me we're all going to turn into slimy green mutants now! Because in all honesty…been there, done that."

"If you two weren't from completely different worlds," Joker sighed, "I'd dock whatever creative force spawned that one twice points for creativity."

"I'll take care of any mutation once we get back to base," Ursula seethed. "For now…FLOTSAM! JETSAM!"

Her faithful eels slid practically out of the woodwork, flanking her.

Ursula cast twin clouds of glittery smoke that enveloped them, and through the smog, one could see the silhouettes of a combination animal, not unlike what was often found on this world, that was incredibly large and unfortunately horrifying. "GET THEM!" Ursula yelled, pointing into the labyrinth, and not only was this an order for Flotsam and Jetsam, but for the rest, Hornets included.

Because the smell of smoke was already permeating the chamber.

Randall hopped from shelf to shelf, avoiding the floor as much as he could. At first, that was because he was just used to traveling faster by hooking himself to the wall and scurrying, but as he looked down at the floor he was gliding over, he realized it was probably a good thing that he wasn't touching ground, because every so often, there was a visible string running across the floor, spanning the aisle defined by the shelves.

"What the - !" he sputtered. "The place is full of tripwires!"

"Uh, yeah!" Rémington yelled. "I noticed!" He'd already dodged the fire of three old-fashioned revolvers only to stumble upon one that simply flung a large rubber spider into his face; he destroyed said gag spider with extreme prejudice and every weapon he carried.

"Just watch it!" Randall yelled before hitting a wire that was strung higher up. A confetti cannon popped nearby, launching him over the shelf and spilling him into Rémington's lane.

"I'm sorry." Rémington smirked. "Who needs to watch it?"

"Shut up!"

They stumbled around several more tripwires until they came to an open clearing filled with innumerable Hornets. The red dots that marked where ammo would land painted both men's chests crimson.

"Rémy!" one of the Shushu pistols snarled. "We've been in here long enough!"

Rémington unholstered both pistols, spinning them as though he wasn't at all being aimed at by a hundred death bots. "And here's where we separate the Rogues from the boys."

"I refuse to lose to you," Randall seethed.

They launched into the mob, bullets flying, dagger slashing, lizardlike body thudding into targets. Rémington grabbed a Hornet by its arms, spun it to crash its body into another, then turned the arms on two more to blast them at once before leaping up into the air to take several out on an aerial somersault. Randall swiped out the legs of a Hornet, causing a domino chain to fall, before scuttling between a pair of them so fast that in an attempt to shoot him, they blasted each other to bits.

Aghoul had tripped a wire of his own. A wrecking ball covered in pointed spikes, painted garishly purple and green in paints that would have been blinding under a blacklight, slammed right into him, carrying him up a whole floor. As he grabbed the railing of the first balcony to hoist himself up, the ball peeled out of him, revealing several puncture marks he'd have to make Vexen stitch later.

"Well, that's inconvenient," he muttered. "Oh, well. I may have gotten separated from my perfect match, but that's no reason I can't play with some FIRE!"

Skull bombs were planted in the shelves he passed as he raced down the balcony, chortling as he heard them explode behind him. The flames were already starting to lick at the papers around, causing a fair plume of smoke.

A flexible, hairy leg planted itself on the same balcony. Then another. Aghoul was expecting a giant tarantula from the looks of it, but what actually crawled up to block his path was Flotsam in the form of an elongated reptile with a pliant spine and eight hairy legs. A pair of mandibles peeled back to reveal fangs that dripped venom.

"Oh, spider-snake!" Aghoul commented. "That's really clever! Wish we'd thought of it first. Oh, well." He shrugged, bringing out his scythe in a flash. "I do so enjoy the thrill of the kill."

Flotsam wasn't about to let Aghoul cut him down so easily. He couldn't really say so because of the mandibles and fangs making banter impossible, but he did parry the scythe blade with both of his curved fangs time and time again. He even got in a nip at Aghoul before realizing that he couldn't poison a dead man.

"There's no way you can win this one!" Aghoul cackled.

Flotsam's tail whipped and knocked Aghoul backward. Toward the fire he'd set.

Eyes widening, he screamed, "NO COMING BACK FROM CREMATION!"

His scythe point dug into the floor, carving the stone a little bit as it formed an emergency brake that halted him from flying right into the flames. He then turned it into a pole vault to simply leap off the balcony and land on top of one of the shelves below, breaking into a run.

Flotsam gave a hiss and pursued.

Aghoul then became aware of riding on the back of a reptilian creature that wasn't Flotsam. "Going my way?" Discord asked from beneath.

"You know," Aghoul told him, "normally, you're not the sort I want to find under me, but I'll let this one slide."

"I can be whatever you want me to be, you know." Discord let a long white curl fall over one of his eyes as he said in a higher, more effeminate tone, "Even if you generally don't go for men."

"Oh-ho-hoooo!" Aghoul chuckled (not even noticing that Jetsam, who'd been tailing Discord, had joined in the chase). "In that case, are you a noose? Because I'd love to HANG with you sometime."

"Let's see…" Discord mused. "Nope! Not interested." He dropped his voice back to its regular register and let out a whoop. "But stringing you along was good entertainment!"

Aghoul let out a "harrumph" and folded his arms.

"You know what else would be good entertainment?" Discord asked, reaching down to slide his claw along the upper edge of the shelf he was following the line of. "This."

Where he traced, heat bubbled up, catching the shelves aflame. Flotsam and Jetsam were stymied, held back by a wall of fire.

"BRAVO!" a voice called out from the second balcony up. "BRAVISSIMO!"

Discord and Aghoul looked up to see Joker applauding them fervently. "I was hoping the chaotic one would put on a show!" Joker laughed.

"Oh, you want a show?" Aghoul grumbled, scythe in hand. "Well, how about a PUBLIC EXECUTION?"

"Didn't you just get back from one of those?" Joker asked. As Discord flew Aghoul up to him, he opened his jacket, revealing an enormous neon-green fist on a spring that jutted out to slam into both of them and knock them down to level one.

"This has been a Joker joke!" Joker laughed as the pair hit the floor and exploded. Not fatally, of course – Discord just saw it as a chance to use the shockwaves as an excuse to set more of the library on fire.

Four floors up, Scarlet removed a small device from a hidden weapons pocket Herb had sewn into her dress. "A girl should never leave home without one of these," she said as she lowered its mouth to the nearest book.

And sprayed a load of mace onto it.

"No, wait." Scarlet rummaged around. "Lighter, lighter, where's my lighter, HERE WE GO LIGHTER!" She swapped the spray for a large lighter that she flicked to life at the base of a shelf.

She was knocked off her feet, head over heels, and at first not even sure what had hit her. By the time she got a good look at her assailant, he was riding a Dark current halfway around the circuit of the balcony, coming back around fast with five Dark spheres trailing.

"HE'S A LION!" Scarlet yelled. "That is NOT fair!"

When Scar came back around on his current, Scarlet ripped him off his path and threw him into the nearest bookshelf, causing several heavy tomes to fall onto him and draw an "Oof!".

"Then again, I don't play fair either." Scarlet grinned. "You want some?" She put a heel back, extending a hand to wave Scar forward. "Then come and get it."

"I won't be made a MOCKERY OF!" Scar roared, pouncing her, two immense sparks of Lightning building at his sides.

She spun out of the way of the erupting Lightning fountains before they hit, one of her pigtails hitting Scar in the face. She then dealt him a punch from the side. He swiped vicious claws at her; she leapt over his paw and kicked him in the jaw. Enraged, Scar spun at her again, this time building up Fire magic in his slash. She evaded it again, and again, and again until she pointed out, "You know, you're doing my work for me."

Scar's eyes widened in horror as he beheld the shelves he'd just set ablaze. "No…NO!" He whirled on Scarlet; "You TRICKED ME – "

She'd already rappelled off the balcony using one of Herb's extendable exoskeletons to hold her steady until she landed on the third floor, at which point she had a one-layer cake with a large and ostentatious candle shoved into her arms.

"Happy birthday!" Joker squealed.

Scarlet was tempted to slam the cake right back at his face, but settled for punching him backhanded while she pitched it at a nearby shelf. As she suspected, the cake was an explosive, and the shelf erupted in flames.

"Oooooh, look what you made me do," Joker taunted, obviously not all that offput by the fact that he'd contributed to the destruction of what he'd come for.

"I'm not here for victim-blaming," Scarlet told him as she advanced. "If you're gonna blame me for something, then blame me for being an actual instigator, LIKE THIS!"

The uppercut sent him halfway down the hall.

"THAT ONE'S FOR HARLEY!" Scarlet yelled. "AND JUST…YOU KNOW, FOR WOMEN!"

She rappelled down one floor, ran across a non-burning patch, and suddenly tripped and fell completely on her back thanks to an assortment of rainbow-colored marbles Joker had scattered earlier.

"I really hate that clown," Scarlet growled.

An immense cloud heralded the rising of a round purple wyvern; Mim winged her way up to the ceiling to shoot fire down from above. Now most of the lower level was blazing orange. She kept an eye on the locations of her allies, not really wanting to admit to herself that she did have a priority of not letting them get burned, but otherwise just spat away.

She was surrounded by a second cloud of smoke, this one glittering far too much for her liking. As she coughed and sputtered, it cleared just enough for her to see the sea witch floating across from her.

"Didn't anyone warn you?" Ursula taunted. "YOU WOULDN'T WANT TO MESS WITH ME!"

She darted this way and that, and at first, Mim was clueless as to how Ursula could miss her so badly with every water-bubble she threw. Not a single one landed on Mim; they all seemed to just plummet down.

Oh.

"YOUUUUU!" Mim looked upon the ash, faint smoke plumes rising, where her work had been doused. "That won't even save your precious books! You're just a KILLJOY!"

"Oh, I'm plenty full of fun!" Ursula said innocently. "I'm more of a kill-WHAM-ARMY, all considered. On that note – "

A heavy bolt of lightning arced toward Mim, who deflected it with a wing. Mim then belched out a stream of raw magic that solidified into a rain of fishing harpoons thirty strong, all headed for Ursula. Ursula, however, sent them into a small portal that opened just in front of her protectively, and Mim didn't have to guess where they were going – she just dove before they could fully empty out of the other end of the portal behind her.

The harpoons chased Mim, seeking her magical signature, which she supposed was another Ursula trick. Well, she wasn't even interested in hurting Ursula anymore (so there). She just wanted to burn up the bookshelves like she'd been doing. So she took the harpoons on a merry romp throughout the library before summoning an immense wooden and rounded shield, looking to be Greek in origin, that the harpoon-points embedded themselves into. Mim then set it aflame and dropped it for an incendiary agent.

"WARRIORS OF KNOWLEDGE!" Ursula raised both hands, the interior of the entire chamber flashing as though lightning were striking in a night storm. "COME TO ME AND DEFEAT MY ENEMY!"

"Warriors of knowledge?" Mim repeated, confused, before she felt a small bite like that a mosquito might deal.

It had come from a book. A book that had used its covers first as wings to flutter up to Mim and then as jaws to take a nibble.

And about fifty more books were flying at her from all corners of the library.

"NO FAIR!" Mim screeched. "NO FAIR NO FAIR NO FAIR!" She kept on setting the chamber on fire, this time focusing on getting the upper levels, but had to keep in constant motion to avoid being devoured by the books, and she could never quite escape a nibble or two at a time.

Ursula simply laughed, entertained by Mim's struggle.

Roman had known something was up the minute he'd run further into the shelves and activated a tripwire that set off a geyser-style firework on the ground in front of him. And where most traumatized people might find the situation made worse by loud noises and bright lights, especially the deadly kind, this was exactly what Roman needed to get a clear head.

"Fuck everything," he grunted.

Then the library had basically exploded, and now he was just running about and throwing Burn crystals into the mix, letting Mim's fire amplify their pyrotechnic reach.

Another tripwire set off an air horn right beside his ear. With a roar, he punched the horn through the shelf along with the books it was hidden between, all of which slammed into someone on the other side.

"THAT'S FOR TRYING TO DROWN ME, BITCH!" Roman yelled at the unknown assailant.

A webbed, green hand swiped all of the books off said shelf so Roman could see exactly who he'd actually just pelted. "And this is the thanks I get?" Snatcher yelled at him.

"Okay, in my defense," Roman argued, "you can see how I would assume anything and everything in here is a hostile force."

"Not wrong, but SOME of those hostile forces are on your side! Now, WILL you rejoin me?"

They ran along opposite sides of the same shelf, Snatcher getting all his admonishments out as they raced; "I do swear being your companion is a constant series of heart attacks, Roman!"

"See, I'd take that as an insult if you weren't still using my FIRST NAME. I think those heart attacks make you feel more alive. Go on. Admit it."

"Well, now I've utterly no reason to."

"You just did!" Roman snickered.

They skidded out into the very center of the chamber's lowest level: a circular area walled off by a large series of adjacent round shelves with doors cut in that led down various paths. The moment they did, Snatcher hit a tripwire of his own and let out a yell that sent Roman into an utter panic.

The sight was gruesome. Whatever Snatcher had activated, it had to have been horrible, because his chest and stomach were positively dripping with viciously red blood. "What – what've they done?" he sputtered. "It's over, it's all over – I'm done for – the pain is unbearable!"

"Nonononono – " Roman cried, immediately rushing to Snatcher, lightly grasping him –

And then understanding exactly what had happened. It clicked when the toe of his foot hit the discarded rubber of a popped balloon. Roman scowled. "Archie."

"Roman – tell Lord Mozenrath that I – "

"I'll tell him you threw that much of a bitch fit over a water balloon filled with fake blood is what."

Snatcher flinched. Then pressed a hand to his midsection and realized there actually was no wound anywhere on him, the pain only a figment of his imagination once he'd seen the red. "…Well, so it is," he muttered.

From across the circle, a new voice growled, "I tire of these ceaseless, pointless JOKES!"

Ozai stormed into the shelf circle, the rising fire behind him giving him almost an unholy aura. "So your death will mean winning the battle rather than the war," he snarled. "But it is a battle I can no longer delay winning! You have caused me enough ANNOYANCE!"

Roman and Snatcher looked at Ozai rather gobsmacked at first. Then Roman backed away from Snatcher, turning to Ozai and chuckling. "Oh, this is just TOO good," he laughed. "You realize what you're dealing with here?"

His Cudgel was raised in one hand. A Burn crystal in the other. "You're fighting fire with fire," Roman stated.

"Enough of this!" Ozai drew back a fist, setting it aflame as he did so.

"Careful, now!" Snatcher cautioned. "You start throwing that around, you'll destroy what you sought to keep us from destroying."

"If it is what I must do to burn you to ash," Ozai growled, "then SO BE IT!"

The fist was thrown; Roman surged forth and ducked, pitching and then kicking the crystal before letting off a round that caused an explosion, throwing Ozai across the circle. Ozai quickly regained his balance as Roman came in running, and the firebender rushed him at equal speed, an open palm filled with living flame.

Flame that got spat out by a gob of green mucus, allowing Roman to sideswipe Ozai with the Cudgel. It did nothing to affect the bender's balance, but while Ozai shook off still more mutagen, Roman simply bashed him again and again until Ozai caught the Cudgel in a thick hand and gripped it until it began to melt.

"OW!" Roman backed off from the red-hot metal, shaking the hands that had gripped it. The palms of his gloves had been burnt away; he peeled away the remaining fabric, tossing it aside. "Okay, NOW you're just fighting dirty."

Ozai then pitched the half-melted Cudgel back at its owner; Roman threw up his hands to shield his face when the chain of Snatcher's weapon curled around the molten mass and drew it out of its previous trajectory. Ozai's fist wasn't far behind, however, and this connected with Roman, sending him staggering.

An icy Dust crystal was quickly produced and run over the flaming patch, dousing the active fire but leaving a smoldering patch on Roman's jacket. "You mess with the JACKET and you've gone too far!" Roman cried, reaching for another crystal and pitching it.

Then stopping to take a good look at his bare hand.

Ozai had launched an enormous fireball, but the Burn crystal caught it, once again exploding, and the chamber seemed to get distinctly redder by the moment. When the smoke cleared, Roman was ready for the next onslaught but not to see Ozai pinning Snatcher back to the shelf nearest him by one hand, the other crackling with white-hot lightning.

"Oh, you ASSHOLE," Roman seethed through gritted teeth.

"Now, think about this, Roman!" Snatcher pleaded as Roman advanced. "You lose me, Lord Mozenrath can reverse it! Don't – "

Roman stormed toward Ozai in anger. Not a run, but a fast pace if deliberate. Ozai let the lightning crackle toward him, and he sidestepped only just enough; the shoulder of his jacket was now on fire.

"ROMAN," Snatcher warned. "DO NOT – "

Roman slapped his own shoulder with a wet slopping sound, dousing the flame, and now Snatcher was confused completely.

"You let him go RIGHT NOW," Roman snarled.

"Why you want to protect him is unfathomable to me," Ozai replied. "He is weak! He is unfit for combat! He is unfit for ANYTHING! He is a stain on existence, and he should be PURGED!"

Another bolt, and Roman flat-out ignored the flare of the jacket over his hip that had caught fire completely. "You," he insisted as he closed the gap, "just. Fucked. Up."

Ozai knew his next blow would have to land on Snatcher to have any effect, and his hand almost got there before Roman let off a glob of spit right into his face. More spit than he should have been able to produce. Stinging in the firebender's eyes, and unnaturally green.

Ozai's grip was loosened for a moment. Snatcher kicked him in the gut and broke free, hurrying over to Roman, who was using more mucus to douse the active flames on his body. Where his jacket was burned away, it was now clear he was growing a few patches of scales himself.

"Soooooo," Roman said casually with a shrug. "Remember when we were swapping spit in the lake?"

"Quite fortunate you moved past that particular disgust, then," Snatcher said in pure awe.

"Fools!" Ozai growled. "You are NOTHING! AND I HAVE ALL THE POWER IN THE WORLD!" An immense column of flame radiated off his entire body to prove his point.

But Roman saw the bookshelf starting to tip over before anyone else did, and he tackled Snatcher to get them both out of the way before it came down on Ozai, quite unceremoniously shattering his skeleton and killing him.

"Well, well," Roman said from where he lay atop Snatcher. "I've got the catch of the day."

"You've no right to fluster me here," Snatcher muttered. "Building's on fire and all that."

"Fiiiiiine."

The pair righted themselves, looking at the shelf that had crushed their foe. It was curved enough to have formed part of the circular wall, but not enough to allow room for Ozai to survive the blow.

"Did we seriously get that lucky?" Roman asked.

"Luck's got nothin' to do with it." With a toothy grin, Randall materialized from atop the shelf adjacent to the fallen one, revealing himself to have toppled it.

"Okay, I REALLY like you now!" Roman cheered, leaping and throwing a fist into the air.

"Man, did that guy ever have it coming," Randall remarked. "I saw him for like two seconds and he just needed to DIE."

Ursula's eyes flicked to the fallen shelf; "So that question's answered, then."

Discord made a rapid-fire teleportation, pinballing around the chamber until before they knew it, Scarlet, Rémington, Mim, and Aghoul were all assembled beside Snatcher, Roman, and Randall, with Discord finally halting beside them. "I'd say we did a number on this place," Discord announced. "Shall we make our parting shot and then leave?"

"Light 'em up!" Roman said with glee.

All who could contribute, did. Skull bombs and Burn crystals went flying into the air, bolstered by waves of fire magic and detonated by Shushu pistols. At last, Discord lit the fuse of an overlarge rocket before whisking himself and the others away.

The rocket shot up into the air, exploding before it could hit the ceiling. Half of the shrapnel was sparks that lit up anything not already on fire. The other half was popcorn kernels that fluffed out white as they hit the heat.

"ABANDON MISSION!" Zurg yelled as he, Joker, Scar, Flotsam, and Jetsam rounded up by Ursula on an upper floor.

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Ursula stated.

"Now, wait a minute!" Joker asked smugly. "Aren't we missing someone?"

"Does anyone here actually care about him?" Ursula asked.

Dead silence.

"That's what I thought." Ursula gestured to an opening Corridor. "After you, friends."

In the desert sand outside the library, the eight WHAM ARMY members popped into safety. "So that was fun," Roman stated, and everyone murmured agreement.

"The sandbenders run a shady little oasis town not too far from here," Mim pointed out. "Want to stop for a drink before we head on home?"

More mutters of agreement, and they set out across the desert.

...

The compass was planted in the ground. Corona Pearl was rolled around it. And as the needle followed her core exactly, Zevon let out a wicked laugh of triumph.

"WE HAVE ACHIEVEMENTED OUR GOAL!" he cried. "TWO GEMSTONES OF THE CORONA AURORA ARE NOW IN OUR POSSESITATION!"

"Sun's coming up," Garfield observed. "Guess time flies when you're kicking butt."

In a squat building nearby, the lights went on. A sign was turned from "CLOSED" to "OPEN." And as everyone noticed it, Jack voiced what they were all thinking: "Does anyone want donuts?"

And so Zevon, Yzma, Wuya, Jack, Irmaplotz, Peter, Garfield, and Draco crowded around the counter of the Big Donut to make their orders.

"Look," Jack said sternly to the cashier. "I'm a simple man with simple tastes. Just give me a Boston cream donut, but dye the filling black, double the chocolate frosting, and put rainbow sprinkles on top."

"I'm in the mood for peach beignets," Wuya chimed in.

"Frost the entire thing purple," Yzma ordered. "I mean the ENTIRE donut. Do not leave a single part unfrosted. Then put those glitter sprinkles on top. Also purple. No, pink. No, purple. No, pink! PURPLE! WAIT, NO, PINK!"

"Just give her half and half," Wuya whispered to the cashier.

"You've not got treacle-filled Cauldron Cakes, have you?" Draco asked.

"Uhhh…" The cashier wasn't sure how to respond. "We have lemon-filled jelly donuts?"

Draco hissed through clenched teeth. "It'll have to do."

"Oh, hey, they've got churros," Garfield noted on the menu. "I'll go with one of those."

"I'll go for…a cinnamon TWIST," Peter decided.

"Your order may have been a twist," Wuya sighed, "but the fact that you picked that wasn't."

"Wow, this place is behind the times," Irmaplotz commented. "No frytour blaunched? No ryschewys? What century are we living in?"

"The bloody twenty-first," Draco spat.

"And here I was craving lente frytours," Irmaplotz sighed. "Guess I'll have to settle for an 'apple fritter' instead."

Yzma opened her mouth to say something, but Wuya told her, "Don't. Let her figure it out."

"Hmmm." Zevon pondered the menu. "Hmmmmmmmmm."

"We are NOT going to stand here all day because you can't make up your mind!" Yzma snapped.

"I cannot leave this shop with any donut that is inferioritor!" Zevon snapped back. "Just give me five minutes."

Wuya set a stopwatch; "Time starts now."

"Do I want the frosted cake donut or the frosted yeast donut?" Zevon muttered to himself.

Behind him, the door was practically punched open. "AT LAST!" Kamdor cried as he entered the donut shop. "I HAVE DISCOVERED A HOLY TEMPLE OF KRISPY KREME AS WRITTEN IN THE TEXTS OF THE MYSTIC MOTHER!"

"Hm?" Zevon glanced over his shoulder briefly. "Oh, hello, Kamdor."

Kamdor nodded as he took his place beside Zevon at the counter; "Zevon."

After a good thirty-second awkward silence, Yzma cleared her throat loudly.

Zevon, a good start of adrenaline running through his body, spun to point at his rival; "KAMDOR!"

"ZEVON!" Kamdor growled in return, pointing right back.

"Kind of meant for each other, aren't they?" Wuya muttered.

"YOU CAME HERE FOR THE GEM OF THE CORONA AURORA, DIDN'T YOU?" Kamdor accused.

"As a factor of Matt, I did!" Zevon replied smugly. "And what's more, I have ACQUISITIONIRED the gem of the Corona Aurora!"

"Then it looks like I'll have to beat it out of you!" Kamdor snarled, balling up his fists.

Zevon summoned his staff; "Bring it on!"

"WAIT!" Kamdor backed off, waving his hands wildly; "NOT HERE IN THE SACRED TEMPLE!"

"Yeah, I want my donuts intact," Jack said, "so can we take this all outside?"

Once they'd filed out onto the beach outside the donut shop, they resumed right where they'd left off.

"Eight to one, Kamdor," Wuya said as she summoned a handful of green fire. "I don't like your odds."

"Bold of you to assume I came without a backup plan!" Kamdor yelled, reaching into his armor and retrieving the shards of Spinel. "FIGHT THIS!"

The shards were tossed into the air. Kamdor made a gesture that imbued them all with his energy, and suddenly, each had become a different piece of a larger monster: torso, hand, other hand, foot, other foot.

Specifically, a bright pink Guard Armor, but where the Heartless might have that particular emblem, an upside-down heart with a crack dividing it down the middle was drawn.

"Great." Wuya rolled her eyes. "These things are so annoying…"

The Guard Armor began to lurch toward the group, clanking ominously. Its disembodied hands began to spin around its torso, spiked fingers outward to claw viciously at the air.

"All right," Wuya declared. "Temporarily taking over as team leader here."

"WHAT?" Zevon cried. "WHY?"

"Because I know how these work," Wuya went on. "Each of us needs to take a different part of it down, one at a time."

"I've got the feet," Draco said with a smirk.

"Somebody pin those hands down and I'll blast 'em," Garfield said as he positioned his helmet over his head.

"Done!" Irmaplotz stated.

"Yzma," Wuya said, "I think you and I need to test run the Big Finish."

"BRILLIANT!" Yzma yelled.

"I'll be a diversion where needed!" Peter broke in.

"GO!" Wuya yelled, and they split as the armor reached them.

It split to pursue them, and as the feet broke off from the body, Draco flicked his wand; "TARANTELLEGRA!"

The heavy metal boots stopped in place, then, instead of making any move to attack, began to dance.

Draco realized he was actually getting rather attached to that spell as a signature. And to think he sometimes berated himself for choosing it during his second-year duel with Harry Potter due to its frivolousness.

"WHAT?" Kamdor rushed to the boots to berate them. "STOP DANCING RIGHT NOW!"

Peter slid in between the boots and Kamdor; "You may want to attack over here."

The boots danced in Peter's direction, trying to aim for him, but the effect of Draco's magic combined with Peter's adroitness at dodging allowed the flexible villain to direct the boots right to Kamdor and slide out of the way in time for them to kick the armored ninja hard. Due to their size, Kamdor was propelled into the air and clear out of Beach City, roaring as he went flying.

A small pink object glittered, falling like a star from his armor.

Meanwhile, Jack and Irmaplotz had each managed to tackle one of the spinning gauntlets. This didn't slow them down by much, but as they continued to spin, they found their victims could not be shaken, clinging tightly and letting out "WHEEEEEE" and "WOOOO-HOOOOO" and "THIS IS JUST LIKE THE TEACUPS!". The gauntlets eventually tired, allowing Jack and Irmaplotz to shift the weight and throw them at Garfield, who dispatched each of them with a blast from his wristlets. He then turned his attention to the dancing feet: an easy target. In a rush of flame, they were also downed.

Four shimmering shards embedded themselves in the sand.

Wuya handed off two pom-poms made of live, crackling magic to Yzma, then conjuring a pair of her own. They flipped through the air like a pair of cheerleaders toward the Guard Armor's body, executing a series of complex gymnastics that pelted it with blows. Then, in synchrony, each contorted her body into a spelling of her own name – Y-Z-M-A on one side and W-U-Y-A on the other – finishing the As by leaning over to plunge the magical pom-poms into their foe, which exploded, dropping the final shard of Spinel into the sand.

A collective breath was let out. "Well, that could've been a lot worse," Yzma remarked.

"What spoils of victory do we have here?" Peter flitted about, scooping up the five fallen shards.

"Hang on." Garfield removed his helmet to peer over Peter's shoulder at them. "Kinda looks like if you put 'em together, they make a heart."

Peter maneuvered his fingers to do just that, holding the heart together in a complex web of joints. "So they do! Perhaps someone's friendship necklace, or a token of affection?"

"I dunno," Garfield replied, "but it's Harley's aesthetic. I say we hand it off to her. She'll love it."

"A wonderful idea!"

"And what's this?" Draco found the sixth dropped object: the one that had been lost by Kamdor when he'd gone flying. It resembled a magic wand, if much shorter and magenta. He tapped at a button in the base, and Spinel's Rejuvenator extended to its full length, the pink crystal at the tip blazing to life with the white-hot energy-scythe blade.

"Oh, that's a Rejuvenator!" Wuya realized. "Gems use it to reset each other."

"Reset?" Draco repeated.

"You know," Wuya told him. "They're each manufactured for a specific purpose and then decide their personality if they happen to break free. Rejuvenators are how they used to be kept in line. Hit them with one of those and they get their memories wiped. Back to square one."

"Does it work on humans?" Draco asked. "Or other creatures?"

"Not that I know," Wuya told him. "Why?"

"I just…wonder," Draco muttered, using the button to deactivate and minimize the Rejuvenator before stuffing it into his pocket.

"We'd better exiteunt stage left before Kamdor tracks us down!" Zevon pointed out.

The cashier leaned out of the Big Donut door; "YOUR DONUTS ARE READY!"

"…All right," Yzma said, "a quick donut pickup, THEN we exit stage left!"

They nearly tripped over each other heading for the shop.

...

When Nobody and Heartless are vanquished, the heart becomes whole once more, where it first was lost.

Ozai reappeared in the throne room. Though at first, he didn't recognize it as such. He was used to it being red-orange in palette. At this moment, it was distinctly shadowy because the flames that lit it were bright blue.

Only one other time had it looked like that.

Ozai whirled on a heel to see his daughter cross-legged on the throne. "Hello, Father," Azula greeted.

"AZULA!" Ozai roared. "What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't miss the show," Azula told him. "After all, my new friend has a bone to pick with you."

"New friend?" Ozai growled.

"Well, she's new to me," Azula said, "but I think you're already quite familiar."

From the shadows alongside Azula's throne, Maleficent stepped forth; "You have failed me, Ozai."

"Through NO fault of my own!" Ozai roared. "Fate was against me. The WHAM ARMY – "

"I am not speaking of your Nobody's demise at the Wan Shi Tong Library," Maleficent informed him. "I speak of your incompetence since you arrived at this world…and even before then. You see, this mission was a test."

"A TEST?" Ozai snarled.

"I wished to weed out any weak links in my alliance going forward," Maleficent stated. "You, the lion, the emperor, and the jester were all under consideration. And yet of the four of you, only one continues to truly jeopardize the integrity of the Overtakers."

"I have not – "

"Only one of you refuses to harbor any respect for his teammates," Maleficent went on. "Only one of you defies the authorities that command you to a point that obstructs your performance. Most importantly, however, only one of you failed to account in any way for the WHAM ARMY's appearance at the Wan Shi Tong library."

"They weren't supposed to have appeared!" Ozai argued.

"And yet they did appear," Maleficent countered. "Thanks to Zurg, Scar, and the Joker putting their heads together, the sacred texts we sought from the Quintessence Wing rest safely in the Forbidden Mountain's cellar while the false copies they suggested were all that was lost in the conflagration. Yet you were adamant no such measures would be needed. Had you been the only one to decide, all of that knowledge would be forever burned."

"So, technically speaking," Azula broke in, "the only thing that stopped you from failing in the meaningful sense to Maleficent's operation was the teammates you despised." She smirked. "I do love a good dramatic irony."

"Why is SHE here?" Ozai pointed to Azula.

"Is that any way to greet your own daughter, who you made regent during your reign?" Azula scoffed. "Have I lost my name to you in the time we've been apart? Or did my name never truly matter to you so long as you had my loyalty to do your bidding?"

"I had watched Azula for some time," Maleficent stated. "I suspected she might be fit for my purposes, and what's more, an agreeable ally. Perhaps a friend. Yet I had already chosen the Fire Nation monarch with whom she would be incompatible, hoping his destructive mind and impulses would reap success. Yet all you have done is sow discord."

"If you want some salt in the wound," Azula added, "ask where Maleficent got the idea to recruit me in the first place."

Ozai gritted his teeth. "Where…did you…"

"The admiral," Maleficent finished for him. "It seems that when you neglected your progeny, it fell to the members of your military to look after both. Your brother took Zuko under his wing, which made the boy too soft, too weak for our purposes. But the princess…"

"Had no relationship with Admiral Zhao!" Ozai spat.

"No relationship?" Azula spat right back. "NO RELATIONSHIP? …Of course you wouldn't think that. Your back was turned! But do you know who had to take on the duties when I was forgotten, when I was lost, when I desired further training? No, he wasn't in any way what a father figure should be, but he at least pretended to care when I ranted, and that was the least of what I wanted! I watched him to first learn how to leverage my power over others! He taught me how to part fire with my hands, making me watch through observation so I could become strong! He praised me for being the pride of the Fire Nation military when Zuko fell so short! For not acting like a child despite my age! Where you only SHOWCASED me for Azulon! He and I laughed the day you sent Iroh and Zuko away because they had finally been culled from our ranks! But of course you'd never noticed. And now, I have surpassed Admiral Zhao and can call myself his worthy superior, whether or not that's what he ever wanted. But I surpassed you the moment you turned your back on me. That was so long ago, I can't even remember when it was. Before Mother left, in any case. You never let me learn who I am; you only wanted me to be an extension of you!"

"And who are you, Azula?" Ozai asked. "All I see is a weak little girl pretending to be royalty."

"I am royalty," Azula snarled through gritted teeth. "I am the ONLY remaining member of the Fire Nation family to be worthy of the throne." She rose from her sitting position. "But why take my word for it? Let's settle this the old-fashioned way. I challenge you to an Agni Kai. The loser must leave both the Fire Nation and the Overtakers and never return."

"So be it," Ozai snarled.

His daughter stepped down to stand before him. They each braced for battle. But she hesitated, and at first, he didn't understand why he gave her the opening for a killing blow.

He understood when he punched toward her and no fire appeared.

"Is something wrong, Father?" Azula mocked. "Could it be that when you were split into Heartless and Nobody, the Avatar's seal on you was broken, but now that you're whole, it's intact again and suppressing your bending?"

She crackled with lightning. Ozai realized, too late, what was about to happen. "AZULA – "

He was struck with such force that he perished instantly. And this time, there would be no Nobody to spawn from it.

"Was it everything you'd dreamed?" Maleficent asked.

"And more," Azula confirmed, looking down at the singed body before her. "It seems this was my problem all along. I thought sending Zuko to do what should've been my job would be fulfilling, when I was only denying myself further." She turned back to smile at Maleficent. "I'm looking forward to this arrangement."

"If the Admiral does not accept your new terms," Maleficent told her, "we may make an arrangement for his demise as well."

"No need…just yet. I want to see how he reacts first."

"We must leave," Maleficent cautioned. "Soon, your brother will return, and we are not so well-equipped at present to deal with him."

Azula gave a haughty sigh. "Another day, I suppose."

Ozai's body was disposed of in mingling flames of blue and green. Then Maleficent opened the Corridor.

"I'm actually looking forward to meeting your new friends," Azula remarked. "I'm sure in no time, they will be my own."

By the time Zuko re-entered the room, it was as if nothing had happened.

...

Lapis' watery wings retracted into her gem as she landed on the beach in front of the Crystal Gem temple; she rushed across the sand at top speed. "STEVEN!" she yelled.

Pearl, Garnet, and Amethyst intercepted her first. "It might not be a good idea," Garnet cautioned.

"How is this not a good idea?" Lapis asked, clenching both fists. "Steven's lost part of his family! I know what it's like to lose!"

"We've already tried, man," Amethyst sighed. "He just needs his alone time now."

"I'm just afraid," Pearl muttered. "Ever since White Diamond, he's been…going through changes."

"What kind of changes?" Lapis asked.

"Well, um…" Pearl looked away. "I'm not sure it's prudent of me to say…"

"Where is he?" Lapis asked softly.

"In the greenhouse," Garnet answered.

Lapis gently entered the crystal dome at the rear of the beach house to find Steven surrounded by vegetation of all kinds as he sat cross-legged on the floor, strumming his ukulele. "If I could begin to be," he sang softly, "half of what you think of me, I could do about anything. I could even learn to love…"

"Hey. Steven?"

"Huh?" Steven looked up at Lapis with a start. "Oh, Lapis!" His smile seemed strained. "Thanks for stopping by!" Now his voice was strained as well.

"You're not okay," Lapis stated.

"What?" Steven said hurriedly. "No way! I'm totally fine! It's not like I haven't been through worse situations than this!"

"That doesn't mean you're okay with it," Lapis told him.

"We'll get White Diamond back!" Steven said, his smile all the more fake and forced. "And Corona Pearl! It doesn't matter that we don't know who took them or where they came from or what their powers are! And it doesn't matter that I wasn't enough to save White Diamond, or that she was only down here because of me, or that she almost HAD something with Corona Pearl, and Corona Pearl almost HAD something with her, and maybe if I'd done any of it differently, then WE WOULDN'T BE HERE!"

He punched the floor, leaving a crack. In a flash, his entire body glowed a horrifying pink, and Lapis gasped.

"I'M SORRY!" Steven cried, blanching – which he could do, as the pink had subsided. "I didn't mean to!"

"No," Lapis responded. "I'm sorry I reacted. You have every right to be angry. It isn't your fault. But it's okay to be angry."

She crossed the distance to him, sat down beside him in the same pretzel style. "I'm angry, too," she admitted. "But I've been angry for so many thousands of years that it gets easier to hide."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's part of what made me strong enough to face Blue. I think you'll learn how to cope with it, too, but it won't be easy. You might have to steal the ocean to build your own tower, too."

Steven understood the metaphor. "But I don't want to. I don't wanna hurt anyone."

"Sometimes, we don't get what we want. But if you hurt me, I'll understand, and I'll forgive you."

"Lapis! I couldn't!"

"I'm serious, Steven."

"Why would you want me to hurt you?" Steven asked. "Because you're used to getting hurt?"

"That," Lapis admitted, "and because…I'm used to hurting people like Jasper, too. I might deserve a little payback."

"Lapis, don't say that!"

"Steven, you know it wasn't as simple as her being the villain and me being the hero." Her voice remained even and calm. "But that doesn't matter so much anymore. I leave her be because I don't want her to go through anything like that again, and now I have new avenues to explore for friendship and fusion. …The Crystal Gems wanted me to give you some space, too, and I guess I probably should. But I also knew they'd keep trying to cheer you up and make you happy, and I just wanted you to know…it's okay to not be."

After a long pause, Steven muttered "Thanks, Lapis" in a tone that suggested he was on the verge of tears.

Lapis looked up at the ceiling. "Steven…if I went away for a while…to try and help fix all of this…would you hate me?"

"I could never hate – "

"Be honest, Steven."

"I'd miss you," Steven told her. "You're one of my best friends, Lapis. I'd wish you hadn't gone away. But if that's what you need to do…then as long as you're happy, I can be happy for you."

"I'm thinking about doing it," Lapis informed him. "There's a place I can go where they deal with these things. Maybe if I reconnect with them, we can make a difference. And…if I'm being honest…maybe I've always wanted to see a little more of what's out there. Because you taught me how to see the beauty of Earth, and that makes me want to find the beauty of other worlds that are waiting out there to see."

"If you find it," Steven told her, "you should keep in touch and send me postcards!"

"I will," Lapis promised. "I'm not sure how I'll get the postcard here, but it'll happen."

"Then I think you should go," Steven said. "If you've been wanting to do it for more reasons than this. Have you talked it over with Bismuth and Peridot?"

"Yes. They were sad, too, at first. But they still have each other, and you and the Crystal Gems, and in the end, they said I needed to chase my own horizons."

"Because they're right," Steven said.

"Just promise me one thing, Steven," Lapis said softly. "Actually…make it two things."

"Yeah?"

"First of all, don't stop seeing the best in people," Lapis asked. "People like me who have a hard time seeing the best in ourselves. Because when I think about what I look like through your eyes, it makes me realize I'm not just a source of pain and suffering. I make somebody happy, weird as that is, and maybe it can happen again."

"That's easy. What's the other?"

"You'll let me handle this," Lapis told him. "I know you like to take the whole world onto your shoulders. All the worlds if you can help it. But…"

The way he'd turned pink. The way he'd managed to crack the floor with a single punch. He'd never been able to do that before.

"…it's going to be too much for you right now. Don't argue. I've already lived through so much worse. I can take the pressure. You healed the last crack I had, and now I won't crack again."

"Lapis," Steven pleaded, "don't take on this whole burden yourself. Just…at least tell me where you're going!"

"Not now." Lapis shook her head. "Or you'll follow me. I'll let you know the name of that world once you make good on this second promise. But you need to focus on healing your own cracks right now. Let yourself be upset. Show yourself the parts of the world you showed me. All the little things. Pretend you're me all over again, and be as kind to yourself as you were to me. Please. It's…actually probably what White would want."

Steven went silent.

"I'll find her," Lapis said, though she thoroughly believed that was a lie. Some horrible instinct told her that White Diamond was gone forever. What she really wanted was revenge, but if she told Steven that, well, she really wouldn't be allowed to go.

Steven could no longer hold back his tears, and the two of them sat on the conservatory floor for a while, Lapis resting her hand on Steven's shoulder and letting him cry.

...

Dawn was breaking over the tire yard. Long past when Quentin was supposed to have arrived, if he were going to show up.

"I guess he ain't comin'." Flint's tone was laden with disappointment. "Oh, well. Guess that's his decision. If that's what he wants, then…"

He trailed off and left it silent a while.

"I'm going to miss them, too," Electro mumbled. "I'm…sorry Alex didn't come, at least. I hoped he would. You two were so close."

"Some things ain't meant to be, I guess," Flint muttered. He forced a smile at Electro; "No use worryin' about it, right?"

Electro knew Flint wanted to just try and move on. "Maybe not."

"And this just means we can start our own crime syndicate!" Flint said with mounting excitement that sounded less forced by the minute. "Sand and lightning: the two most powerful mutants of the Sinister Six! We can take whatever we want, 'cause no one'll wanna mess with us! …But we won't go too far."

"Right," Electro agreed. "I want to find my cure, and I want enough money to live the way I want. No one innocent has to get hurt." Then he turned away, sharply and suddenly.

"Somethin' wrong?"

"They might get hurt even if I don't want them to," Electro muttered. "I'm dangerous. Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Wha – sure, I'm sure!" Flint insisted. "I ain't gonna hold an accident against ya! Listen…the other guys, maybe they complained about ya or…" He realized he probably shouldn't reiterate what Otto had done. "Just – never mind 'em. With me, it's gonna be different! We're gonna be two pals, livin' it up and havin' fun! And I'm gonna make you have fun, whether you want it or not!"

Electro turned back, retracting his mask so Flint could see the soft smile on his perpetually shining face.

"Y'know, you're cute when ya smile," Flint said without thinking. "You should do it more often."

When Electro flinched, Flint quickly backtracked; "I didn't mean it like that! Just that you're angsty so often, it's a nice change of pace. Makes me happy to know you're happy."

"So what do we do now?" Electro asked.

"Well…" Flint thought it over. If it were him and Alex, they'd probably be running a heist on something valuable right about now. "You wanna go hijack some fine art and auction it off on the darknet?"

"That actually sounds fun."

"Race ya to the museum."

"Oh, you're on!"

A lightning bolt and a tidal wave of sand surged out of the tire yard together.