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.

134. A Supervillain by Any Other Name

All the stars had come out, twinkling overhead, beautifully visible at the height of Mistral's upper district. Ruby Rose stood on the balcony's edge, leaning on the railing and looking up to them wistfully.

"Hey," she said softly. "So, uh…it's been a while. But I wanted to say that I miss the two of you, and I really hope I can see you again soon. I mean, I know I will, but…but I hope you're okay, Yang. I know you're tough, but ever since Adam, I've been afraid for you, because I'd never seen you the way you were after that day. So I hope you've been able to find something happy to hold onto and pick yourself back up. And Blake…I hope he never found you. I hope wherever you are, you're safe, and you don't have to worry. And I hope you have a friend or two you can count on. I wish it could be me, but…I…I guess I get why you wouldn't want that, not right now."

She hadn't meant to cry. But already, her vision watered against her will.

"I love you guys," she choked out. "And I miss you, and…and just come back soon, okay?"

"Ruby. Are you…uh…are you okay?"

"WAAAAH!" Ruby, startled, whirled around to see Booster venturing out onto the balcony behind her.

"Whoa!" Booster put up both hands. "Sorry. I should've probably announced that a little better."

"MY HEART JUST ABOUT EXPLODED OUT OF MY CHEST!" Ruby yelled.

"Wouldn't want that," Booster said sheepishly.

Ruby then realized that comment could've sounded a little insensitive. "Sorry. I'm just…"

"Were you crying?"

She sniffled. "Guess I can't hide it."

"Well, what's wrong?" Booster asked, eyes wide with genuine concern.

Ruby wiped at her lower eyelids, trying to drain away all the excess water. "Oscar and I were just talking downstairs," she explained. "He was having a hard time because…because he never asked for this whole Ozpin thing, or to get wrapped up in our war. So I tried to make him feel better by saying we were all in the same boat. I told him about Penny, and I told him about Pyrrha, and I told him about Amaterasu and her whole world. And he got it, and he was sympathetic, and I think I cheered him up, but now I can't stop thinking about the fact that two of my best friends are still lost out there and maybe in danger and with my track record, I don't know if I can do anything about – "

She'd let the water blur up her eyes again, meaning she hadn't been able to clearly see Booster quickly advancing toward her until he'd scooped her up into an enormous, soft hug. She wrapped her arms around his chest in response, ceasing to use words and just sobbing instead. She felt Booster's large hand smoothing down her hair over and over.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I wish I could do something to help. I just hope your friends can find you again soon. From what everyone else said, it sounds like they're really tough. They remind me of Buzz and Mira and XR, a little. So I think they'll be able to make it. But it's scary, not being able to know. You're doing the best you can, Ruby. You already found Weiss! I think you'll be able to find Blake and Yang, too."

"Sora…" Ruby sniffled. "Sora would say that real friends would be able to find each other no matter what if their hearts were in it. But what if…what if they just don't wanna be my friends anymore? Blake obviously thought she could get along fine without Team RWBY, and Yang wouldn't leave her room, and – and - !"

"I guess I don't know," Booster admitted. "But…something like that happened to me once, and it all turned out for the best."

"What happened to you?" Another weak sniffle.

"His name was Buster," Booster related. "He was my best friend growing up! Kind of my only friend, actually. Since we were farmers, we didn't live close to our neighbors, and he was the only other person my age in walking distance. We would always play together and pretend to be space rangers and have so many adventures…then I grew up and tried to pass the Academy. Well, I did become a Ranger, but not the way I always thought I would. Buster, on the other hand…we grew apart, and he…kind of…sort of…signed up to work for one of the bad guys we always fought."

Ruby froze. "Okay, this story just got really interesting."

"When we met up after all that time," Booster went on, "he actually tricked me so Evil Emperor Zurg could get his way. But then…it turned out we still wanted to be friends with each other after all. So he betrayed Zurg to help me, and now I make sure to send a communication his way as often as I can. I feel like we're better friends than we even were before. And I think…we were meant to be friends, in a way. That's why we were able to come back to each other. So if I had to guess, I'd say it's the same for Blake and Yang, even though they probably didn't sell out to work for Cinder and Salem."

Ruby laughed. "Don't underestimate Yang's disregard for the law. More than one of Qrow's flasks have 'mysteriously' emptied on his visits, and she was definitely a minor back then. Also I'm pretty sure she beat up a whole nightclub full of mobsters this one time because she thought one of them might know where Raven was."

"Well, that's not Evil Emperor levels of bad, so I think it's okay. Kinda reminds me of XR, actually. Didn't you say she was part robot?"

"Yeah! Weiss said her arm is now!" Ruby beamed. Then flushed red-hot, realizing that she wasn't even sad anymore and still being clutched by one very adorable Jo-Adian. She wriggled a bit, and Booster got the hint – and was it just Ruby, or did he seem a little nervous, too, when he let go and realized how long he'd been holding on?

"We should get them to meet up when Yang comes back!" Booster insisted.

"I'd say he'd have to promise not to be weird and hit on her," Ruby mused, "but the more I think about it, she'd just punch his head right out of his helmet, and that's kinda funny and now I wanna see that."

"It wouldn't be the first time he'd gotten his head punched out of his helmet by an angry woman."

They laughed together, and in order to avoid blushing again if they made eye contact, they turned their gazes up to the stars.

"But Team RWBY was training to be Huntresses, right?" Booster recalled. "You must've had some real adventures together."

"We did," Ruby admitted.

"If you have any favorite stories, I'd like to hear them."

"Only if you tell me more about your morally dubious friend."

"It's a deal!"

"Okay," Ruby began, "so this one time, we were trying to get Blake to go to the school dance because she was getting way too stressed out, but that was when Cinder was undercover in our school at our student, and we didn't know she was planning on using the same dance to…"

...

Aboard the Van Eltia, everyone seemed to be getting along swimmingly. Flint had started up a game of catch in which he would forge a baseball out of the sand that spawned in his forearms, then pitch it hard, then Giovanni would thwack it, and then Molly would attempt to catch it before it hurtled off the deck and into oblivion. (Sometimes, Giovanni hit it softly on purpose to give her the victory, and Flint nodded his approval.) Jinnai had begun wailing about how he had no friends in the way of Team RWBY back when he was class president of his high school, and Yang awkwardly patted him on the shoulder and tried to redirect him to talk to Sylvie, the actual therapist of the group. But Sylvie was already booked; Electro lay flat on his back on the deck, telling Sylvie about his traumas, and Sylvie was nodding and making commentary where appropriate. Mel and Spinel were dancing together across the deck while Mel explained to Spinel what a "surprise party" was, and Spinel found herself desperately wanting to partake in this human custom without having to wait for someone's birthday. Abigail listened in horror as Garfield recounted his tale of having been Phosphorus, trying so very hard not to berate him for an obviously unstable mechanism in his battlesuit that she probably could've engineered more safely than Blaze. Eizen had gotten on a long ramble about the nature of the four elements in the makeup of malakhim, and Ifurita, listening to his infodump, gasped and told him about the three elemental shrines back on her homeworld, albeit very confused as to why there was no devotion to earth, since that was Eizen's element.

All in all, it looked like Harley had a fine family brewing. But even looking upon this joyous chaos, her heart wasn't satisfied, and her stomach twisted.

Thankfully, the one person she knew she could discuss this with was currently free.

"Hey, Emmy?"

Emerald, striding past, stopped to see Harley grinning quite nervously. "Do I wanna know?" she asked.

"I just got a…situation," Harley admitted. "An' I thought maybe you'd know what ta do."

"Um. Okay." Emerald walked up next to Harley, leaning on the ship railing. "Shoot."

"So…I was kicked around by two a' the same guy," Harley sighed. "Don't ask."

"That's not really weirder than anything else that happened lately, but go on."

"First one didn't respect me one little bit, an' sometimes…sometimes he'd throw a punch," Harley admitted. "But I thought it was fine 'cause I could give it all right back to 'im!"

"That's not fine," Emerald stated.

"I know that now." Harley shuffled her feet. "Anyway…the second one. He was even more charmin', even more psychologically fascinatin'…an'…an' worse. Just…worse. I came outta a screwup all battered this one time. An' I defended myself, but he was stronger, an'…this is gettin' ugly."

Emerald nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Eh. Water under the bridge now. But you had kinda the same thing goin' on with Cinder, right?"

Emerald shifted to look out at where the sea met the blue sky. "It's…not something I like to talk about. Usually, I like to just let people think I was in it because of the money and the roof over my head."

"I'm sensin' a 'but.'"

"But you're different," Emerald admitted. "You're all different. It's nothing like Cinder, or even Raven. I didn't know it could even BE like this."

"Welcome to the Heathens, hon!"

"So yeah," Emerald sighed. "There was…something else there. And I kept telling myself, well, I didn't grow up with a great parental figure, let alone two of them, so obviously, that's what I must've wanted out of Cinder. A mom. But…I think we all know at this point that's not even close to what I wanted from her."

"How hot was she?"

"You mean metaphorically or literally?" Emerald smirked. "She was the Fall Maiden, after all. But no…she was enchanting. That's the best way I can put it. I didn't know why a person like her would ever look at me the way I wanted her to, and she didn't, so that all added up real nice. She always told me to know my place. So I did."

"That ain't fair."

"No. It wasn't. So what's the question this is building to?"

"Just…" Harley's shoulders slumped. "I can't help but feel sympathetic for any gal I hear who's got it bad like that. Or enby. Or guy, now that I think about it. Yeah, anybody whose partner in crime is pushin' 'em around. Not that I wanna go on a liberation mission, but I always got this huge urge to bash the perp with the bat. An' I don't even like killin'. Well, when it's innocents for no reason, anyway."

"No, I get it."

"So what if I heard about somebody an' I dunno if I should feel bad for her or hate her?"

"Why would you hate her?" Emerald asked.

"'Cause she hurt somebody I love," Harley answered.

"The way Cinder hurt me and your man hurt you?"

"No. Not like that. Different kind of hurt."

"Hm." Emerald mulled that over. "Not sure I can give you advice without knowing more details."

"Ain't sure I wanna give you those details."

"Oh, come on!" Emerald shoved Harley playfully. "I told you about my stupid crush on Cinder."

"You did that on your own!"

They laughed briefly, and then Harley said, "Can't ya just skip ta the part where ya tell me it's okay ta not feel bad over somebody I should hate gettin' a raw deal? I don't even want the bad guy ta catch up with her! I just wanna hate her guts in peace."

"If you wanted so badly to hear something that specific, why ask the question?"

And Harley was silent.

"You're a therapist, aren't you?" Emerald reminded her. "Why can't you just psychoanalyze yourself?"

"'Cause I don't like the answer," Harley admitted. "All my psych experience tells me somethin' kinda clear. An' I don't wanna believe it. So I was hopin'…"

"Nope." Emerald shook her head. "You're on your own for this one. Unless you wanna give me more details."

After a long silence, Harley admitted, "Yang's gal pal Blake."

"Oh. Yeah." Emerald's eyes widened. "Adam was…a piece of work. I never felt comfortable being too close to him."

"But you were Blake's enemy, right?"

"I was," Emerald agreed. "But I don't want to be anymore. And if I saw her and Adam in a dark alley, I'd kill him without hesitation. And I'm like you. I'm over letting innocent people get hurt. But Adam is the furthest thing from innocent people. I remember times I was…afraid if I was alone in a room with him, he might…" She shook her head. "I can't really not sympathize with Blake on that one."

"I was afraid of that."

"You can hate her if you want," Emerald said. "But maybe ask yourself why. Is it just because you're jealous she had your girlfriend's attention? Because right now, Yang is YOUR girlfriend, not hers."

"Look, I don't trust easy these days!" Harley groaned. "What if Yang's just stringin' me on until Blake decides ta come back an' apologize?"

"Then that's not really on Blake," Emerald said. "But also, that's not gonna happen. Because I remember watching them at Beacon, and those two were kind of an opposites-attract kind of pair. You're more of a match for her. You're similar. You guys actually have fun together. And from what I saw, she spent so much time trying to save Blake from herself. She doesn't need to save you from anything. Sounds like you took care of that before she showed up."

"Thanks, Emmy," Harley said with a smile.

"Though the other thing to consider is we are all bonded by the common thread of not actually sticking to the rules of right and wrong. So if you wanna hate a victim, there's nothing really stopping you. You can just be mad."

"Double thanks." Harley thought it over. "Say, Emmy. You ever work in close quarters with one Roman Torchwick?"

Emerald let out a sputter. "You mean the guy who thought he was the god of darkness' gift to Remnant? Yeah."

"What was it like around him?"

"He's a dork in swagger's clothing. He hated me. I hated him. He almost clocked me a few times for annoying him, but not like in an Adam way. I'm a better thief than him for sure. I think he cheats. I have this working theory his Semblance is to be able to spirit things into some pocket dimension. Anyway, I got in the last word on him."

"How so?"

"I made him think his pals were the same kind of Grimm that ate him."

"You're HORRIBLE," Harley chuckled.

"Well, that's why we're friends, right?" Emerald smirked at her.

"Yeah," Harley agreed.

Benwick announced the proximity of a town called Port Cadnix, and the Van Eltia docked. This town was at least large enough to be a town, but smaller and cozier than Reneed proper. It was nestled at the base of a mountain, which everyone was informed was a hotspot for mining metals such as mythril. In fact, Cadnix's economy was driven by the ores mined out of it.

Harley and Yang made for the inn so Harley could have her latest psychic dream as to where lost friends might be hiding. Everyone else fanned out to do some shopping. Giovanni wanted to get Molly a little surprise gift, so he not-so-subtly hinted that Flint should take her around the town for a bit (and it was rather obvious by that point that Flint had always wanted to be a father but his life of crime had never really permitted it; he let Molly ride on his shoulders and asked her all sorts of questions about her friends and her favorite parts of school).

Alone, Giovanni perused the modest toy selection of Cadnix's shop for recreation. He'd been hoping to find a teddy bear here, since Molly liked bears, but all there seemed to be was Normin. Plush Normin, wood-carved Normin, music boxes with glass Normin. Was that what was popular with kids around here?

Giovanni settled upon a bright-pink Normin plush. Pink, because it was the same color as his hair. Molly would like that. And then, just to spite Sylvie, he bought a slightly smaller Normin that was an ugly plum color and ripped one of its beaded eyes out after paying. Surely the therapist would compare his gift to Molly's and see how little Giovanni cared for him! And the fact that Giovanni had bought him a toy in the first place was irrelevant to the situation!

He stepped back out into the streets of Cadnix, inhaling deeply as he took in the warmth of the sun. This was a nice place, if a little sleepy. Normally, a small town like this would bore him to tears, but this one had a cozy aesthetic, bordered by the imposing mountain on one side and the soft blue sea on the other. The sound of the waves certainly helped things. Mingled with the chatter of the people, it made for an almost therapeutic effect. One could almost think of this as the big city if one closed one's eyes to hear the people saying things such as "What do you mean this is too expensive?" and "I think that's only fair" and "Boss!" and "How much for a set of Nor dolls?" and "BOSS! WE'RE OVER HERE!" and "Ship's launching on the bright tomorrow" and "BANZAI CAPTAIN GIOVANNI POTAGE!"

Wait.

His eyes snapped open. Crusher, Spike, and Dark Star were barreling straight toward him at top speed, baring expressions that mingled joy with concern.

The plush Normin were temporarily dropped to the ground. "Dark Star!" Giovanni gasped, almost in tears. "Spike! CRUSHER!"

He threw out his arms, and they tackled him to the cobblestones in a group hug that was a little too tight for everyone involved.

"I knew he'd find us!" Dark Star bragged. "Didn't I know he'd find us?"

"WE MISSED YOU SO-O-O-OOOOOO MUUUUUUCH!" Spike bawled.

"I NEVER STOPPED LOVING YOU!" Crusher screamed.

"And I love all of you, too!" Giovanni replied. (Once again, it completely flew over his head what Crusher meant.) "I was beginning to be afraid I'd never be able to run another heart-pounding heist with my favorite minions again!"

Then he cried "Oh, SHIT!" and pushed them all lightly off him. He scooped up the Normin plushies, brushing the dust off Molly's. "Heheh…wouldn't wanna get this one dirty…it's for Bear Trap."

"Bear Trap's here?" Spike gasped. "Then that means we've got the whole gang back together!"

"Almost," Crusher corrected. "Boss, we lost Car Crash, Flamethrower, and Ben!"

Giovanni's heart dropped a mile. "We…we lost…?"

"Nonononono, not like that!" Dark Star shook his head. "They're fine! I think. I hope. What happened was they wanted to explore the mines to take some of the valuable rocks they mine out of there and the metals and stuff, and they haven't come back in hours!"

"Well, then, what are we waiting for?" Giovanni cried. "WE HAVE A RESCUE MISSION TO GET UNDERWAY!"

"OH GIIIII-OOOOOO!"

"Oh, right," Giovanni realized when he heard his nickname called. "THAT'S what we're waiting for."

Harley and Yang trotted up next to him. "Can't do this without our awkward third wheel!" Yang remarked with a grin. "Hey. Wait. Weren't these guys – "

"SPIKE!" Harley gasped. "CRUSHER! AN' DARK STAR!"

"Hiya, Harley!" Dark Star waved enthusiastically.

"Glad you guys came outta that without a scratch!" Harley said. "Any sign of the other three?"

"They went and got themselves lost in the mines looking for treasure," Giovanni related. "They're a bunch of idiots, all right. But they're MY idiots, and NO ONE KEEPS GIOVANNI POTAGE AWAY FROM HIS IDIOTS!"

"Ohhh, that's who I dreamed about in the twisty dark caves!" Harley realized. "There's that, an' I'm pretty sure Ragsy's in some kinda ruin on the other side of the mountain, an'…well…I dunno. It was a weird one. Pretty sure I saw an island, and this ain't no island. It was like a fuzzy signal, too. So I'm thinkin' somebody marooned close to here, but not on this particular continent."

"What's with the plushies?" Yang asked.

"They're for later." Giovanni vanished them both into dreamspace.

"Oh, I get it!" Yang nodded. "What kind of dad would you be if you didn't pick up some souvenirs for the kids?"

"STOP CALLING ME THEIR DAD! IT MAKES ME SOUND OLD AND ALSO BORING!"

"I dunno," Dark Star volunteered. "You're pretty much like our dad already."

"DARK STAR!" Giovanni seethed. "YOUUUUUU ARE NOT HELPING!"

"I've never seen the Boss as a father figure," Crusher said bluntly. "I'm just putting that out there. I've always seen him as very exactly not a father figure."

"More like your cool older brother who teaches you valuable life lessons from the wrong side of the tracks, right?" Giovanni asked.

"No," Crusher sighed. "That's not it either…"

"Well, now we're not waiting for anything!" Giovanni declared. "LET'S GET A MOVE ON!"

A pair of wrought gates set into the mountainside led the way into a dark labyrinth of stone. Paths branched off every which way. Yang, Harley, Giovanni, Spike, Dark Star, and Crusher gaped as they ventured in.

"They could be anywhere!" Crusher worried.

"Never fear!" Giovanni replied. "We'll just look EVERYWHERE!"

Yang nodded. "Let's start at the left, keep hanging left, then when we hit a dead end, backtrack and take the latest right."

"You're one smart cookie!" Harley told her.

"Hey, I'm supposed to root Grimm out of these things once I'm licensed," Yang reminded her.

"Let's everyone call out!" Harley suggested. "That way, we can hear 'em call back!"

The search party progressed through the tunnels, yelling out, "CAR CRASH!"

"FLAMETHROWER!"

"CAAAAR CRAAAAASH!"

"FLAME-THROW-ERRRRR!"

"What are their real names again…?"

"Mark and Fred."

"MAAAARK!"

"FRED? HEY FRED?"

"MARK-O POLO!"

"Nonono, you just say 'Mark-o' first – "

"Marko like Flint?"

"No!"

"FRED CAR CRASH! CAR CRASH FRED!"

"FLAMETHROWER MARK?"

"YO, CAR CRASH!"

"MARK-OOOOOH!"

When they heard a yell back of "POLO!" from behind a wall, they all bounded in joy.

"BOYS!" Giovanni rushed up to the cavern wall, placing his hands upon it. "I'm here! Everything's gonna be okay!"

"Boss?" Car Crash replied from the other side. "We're lost and I'm scared!"

"Stop being a baby," said Ben.

"SHUT UP, BEN!" Giovanni cried. "CAN'T YOU HEAR THAT CAR CRASH IS HAVING A…oh, wait, THAT'S whose name I was forgetting to call out."

Yang and Harley exchanged glances.

"When we tell him this story," Harley hissed, "say you an' I both remembered him."

Yang nodded.

"We need to find a way to get to the other side of this wall!" Giovanni mused. "Boys? Any ideas?"

"No!" Flamethrower wailed. "It took us like thirty weird turns to get here! This is like one of those stupid maze puzzles I'm not good at!"

"Then we'll need to go with the path of least resistance," Giovanni decided. "We're just gonna break down the whole wall."

"I got this." Yang stepped forward, punching one fist into the opposite palm. "Hit me."

So Giovanni retrieved the Soul Slugger Doom-Bat and very lightly bopped Yang on the head.

"That's not even gonna do anything," Yang told him. "You want this to work, you're gonna have to actually leave a mark. Now HIT ME."

"Wha – that is NOT NECESSARY!" Giovanni snapped, giving her another light bop.

"Yes. Yes it is."

"No, I'm doing just fine like this – "

"Hit me harder, Giovanni."

"No!"

"HIT. ME. HARDER."

"NO!"

"HARDER, GIOVANNI!"

"WILL YOU STOP PHRASING IT LIKE THAT?" Giovanni spat. "YOU'RE GONNA GIVE HARLEY A HEART ATTACK!"

Yang suddenly turned to see Harley hiding a crimson blushing face. "Don't mind me," she muttered. "Just…not thinkin' about hearin' that in your voice…"

"Looks like I've got something to put on my to-do list," Yang said mischievously. "No, seriously, leave a bruise. I don't care where. Anything but the hair. I gotta feel pain from – "

"YANG, THAT AIN'T BETTER!" Harley pressed her hands to her face harder.

"Giovanni," Yang commanded, "strike me with a baseball bat in a non-sexual way that will actually allow this hit to land."

"Ugh, fine, so long as it gets you to stop criticizing me!" Giovanni groaned. And he bopped Yang just hard enough to leave a slight bruise. And felt very guilty about it.

"All right!" Yang clenched her fists, feeling her Semblance build up.

"STAND BACK!" Giovanni yelled at the wall, having counted his twelfth hit.

He drew back the bat, Yang drew back her fist, and both slammed into the wall simultaneously, causing an avalance of rubble.

"Wait," Giovanni and Yang said as one, looking to each other with wide eyes. "You mean that was about YOUR…"

"So thaaaat's why you wanted me to actually hurt you," Giovanni realized. "It activates your Epithet."

"And your Semblance can work whether or not you do damage," Yang filled in.

Giovanni crowed, holding out his hand to Yang; "SAME BADASS CRITICAL-HIT POWER!"

She took his hand firmly. "Same badass power!"

"Uh, Boss?" Car Crash waved meekly. He, Flamethrower, and Ben stood there in a shower of dust.

"BOYS!" Giovanni ran forth, and this time he did the tackling, of both Car Crash and Flamethrower. Ben sidestepped so as not to be a part of this, but exchanged a brief nod and a smile with Crusher, Spike, and Dark Star.

"NOW the whole gang's back together!" Spike crowed.

"And since we are," Giovanni proclaimed, "our first order of business is to find those precious ores you were looking for and loot the mountain dry!"

"About that," Flamethrower said. "So we kinda found this…whatever it is…and it wasn't what we came here for, but it's something."

He stepped back to gesture at the chamber they stood in. It was outfitted with an anvil and several blacksmithing tools for the purpose of making swords. And they knew it was specifically swords because those swords were hanging from every wall, propped up against every surface, and bordering any piece of equipment.

"No way." Giovanni's jaw dropped.

"That's pretty neat!" Harley chirped. "Almost like ya found some kinda…secret legendary forge down here!"

"And you know what a secret legendary forge means, right?" Giovanni squeaked. "It means CURSED SWORDS is what!"

"The usual?" Yang asked.

"BOYS!" Giovanni pointed dramatically. "RAID THE TOTALLY AWESOME SWORDS!"

They collected every single blade in the entire forge before turning back to the tunnels.

"You said Ragdoll was somewhere on the other side of the mountain?" Yang asked Harley.

"He wasn't comin' from Cadnix," Harley replied.

"Eizen said these mines let out the other side," Yang noted. "Would've been nice if he could give us a map, but I think we can make do. Let's just make sure to stick with the lefts until it's right."

It took Harley a minute to get that one. "YOU LITTLE STINKER!"

"In the meantime," Giovanni declared, "I shall deliver the all-important exposition as to where we are and why we are hunting down criminals of all walks!"

Their chatter echoed pleasantly off the mine's walls as they ventured further into the subterranean maze.

...

With a muted splash, six merfolk-who-weren't and one fish mutant appeared in the depths of the ocean, surrounded by beautiful blue.

"Welcome to Atlantica," Mozenrath introduced. "Or, at any rate, the oceans surrounding Atlantica. Though I suppose Triton's borders probably have extended this far."

His new fish-tail was a deep blue, the sort of shade he would usually wear. A half-wetsuit-top adorned his torso, keeping his right side shrouded in more blue and the left half of his torso exposed – making several of the company wonder how much he'd burned off the right already. His long, dark hair, free of hat, was tied up in a loose ponytail.

"This is new." Wuya flicked her black tail, turning a flip. The only strip of clothing she bore was a thin black strapless bikini top, which suited her just fine.

"So long as it isn't another jungle." Yzma folded her arms, her skinny frame now exposing its ridgy bones beneath her skin for all to see. A sparkling swimsuit top with a high neck matched the shade of her violet tail; a hat adorned with faux coral in pinks and purples branched up off her head.

"Oh, don't worry." Wuya slid closer to Yzma, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her close. "Now that we're out of that nasty place…I can kiss it all better."

As Wuya moved in for such a kiss, Yzma flinched; "You know, it's suddenly occurred to me that many, many of the things that annoyed me could've been easily preventable with Heylin magic."

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

"Wuya, were you letting bad things happen to me on purpose so you could play caretaker later?"

"Would you look at that? There's a thing over there that's important." Wuya was speeding across the grotto. "I'll be back when I'm done looking at the thing after a long while!"

Yzma sighed and rolled her eyes. "Well, at least it's better than NO caretaking."

"You mean Mim?" Mozenrath brought up. "She's better than Mim is what you're saying."

"Well, of all the things I thought'd happen to me today…" Shocker careened through the water, flipping his brilliant-yellow tail. "This sure wasn't it." He flexed his wrists; Mozenrath had had the foresight to remove his gauntlets before plunging him into water.

Mysterio was making a blatant show of absolutely not even firing a glance near Shocker's exposed chest, because Shocker had given him the ultimate disrespect and didn't deserve to be so much as ogled. Instead, he rolled his eyes toward Mozenrath and gave a loud "EH-AHEM."

"What?" Mozenrath groaned.

"This isn't my aesthetic!" Mysterio gestured up and down over his body. He had a tail as well, this one lime-green, but not a stitch of clothing on. "This is bare-bones minimalistic! I don't do bare-bones minimalistic!"

"Fine." Mozenrath waved a hand; Mysterio was surrounded in a cloud of blue smoke that dissipated like squid ink in the water. "Better?"

When the smoke cleared, Mysterio's upper body was clad in a green-and-purple wetsuit top, but more in keeping with the Mysterio spirit, his head was hidden within an ornate diving-bell helmet, shining bronze with a glass window to let him see out.

"MUCH better," he replied smugly. (And not just because he was certain he didn't look half as good shirtless as Shocker, who he absolutely did not care about, did.)

"This is amazerating!" Zevon turned loops and loops with his navy-blue tail, pulling off as many tricks as he could. "I'm a completely submergible aquaticorical creature!"

"You see what I've been trying to TELL all of you?" Gill emphasized, arms thrown out wide. He was utterly unchanged in any way. "Isn't this so much BETTER? No more having to be weighed down by that whole 'breathing air' thing. We can go where we want! Do what we want! The sea is our oyster, and the oysters in it are…also…our oysters, I guess!"

"And where we want to go is where the gem of the Corona Aurora is." Mozenrath brought out the compass, letting its needle point the way. "We already know it won't just be lying around in the open. Be ready for anything."

"Oh, I will be!" Gill bragged. "Water is my element! And so is goo now! But we're in water so – UGH, JUST FORGET IT; I GOT THIS!"

"WUYA, STOP PRETENDING TO BE DISTRACTED FROM YOUR RELATIONSHIP ISSUES AND LET'S MOVE!" Mozenrath ordered.

And like a school of disorganized fish, they set out a-swimming, unaware of what the ocean depths held that could threaten them.

...

"Hey," Jenna greeted as Ven and Papyrus strolled into the Hot Kettle bright and early. "You guys look like you've been having some adventures, all right. Where'd you go to get all that sand on your clothes?"

They realized they were, indeed, still bearing some patches of wet sand that stuck to their outfits. Ven also reached up to feel that his hair had gone all mussed, sticking out every which way.

"WE WERE JUST CAMPING," Papyrus told her.

"Camping," Jenna repeated. "On Deception Island. Looks more like you two fell asleep on a beach overnight."

"Would there be something wrong with that if we did?" Ven asked.

"I guess I've seen crazier," Jenna replied. "Anyway, what can I get you? Chowder's off the menu for a bit; I gotta go out clamming today before I can make any more."

"We're more in the mood for breakfast food, anyway," Ven told her. "Got any more of those blueberry muffins? And maybe a couple of pancakes."

"I WOULDN'T MIND SCRAMBLED EGGS, IF YOU HAD THEM," Papyrus added.

"Comin' right up!" Jenna promised. "Why don't you two have a seat?"

"Thank you!" Ven said before the pair seated themselves at a booth.

This was when Ven found it a good time to slip the clamshell box out of his pocket. "Okay," he muttered. "All we need to do is match this against that flag poster, and it'll tell us how we can open the box."

Papyrus craned around to take a look at the poster on the wall that explained semaphore and which flag meant which letter. "I HAVE A VISUAL! KEEP THE BOX ON THE TABLE AND I'LL TELL YOU WHAT LETTERS IT HAS."

Ven ended up having to discreetly "borrow" a pen from the diner counter to write the letters onto a napkin; he hustled away as Holt Scotto entered, because a harbormaster-to-be was certainly not going to approve of stealing diner pens. Back in his seat, Ven had all of the letters written down.

"HMM." Papyrus looked it over. "IT'S AN ANAGRAM OF SOME SORT. THAT'S FOR CERTAIN. ALL WE HAVE TO DO IS FIGURE OUT WHAT WORD. NOW, LET'S NOT RULE OUT THE POSSIBILITY THAT SOME LETTERS MAY NOT BE USED, OR SOME USED MORE THAN ONCE."

They went through an entire napkin holder writing down anagrams that suited the letter combination.

"WHAT ABOUT…'DOSE RUB'?" Papyrus suggested.

"That wouldn't make any sense," Ven replied. "But…why does it also sound familiar?"

They sat on that one for a minute. Then gasped in unison, remembering the word that had signed every single coordinate in a bottle: "ROSEBUD!"

Tap, tap, tap: Ven pressed the buttons in the correct order, and the clam popped open.

"Here you go!" Jenna brought the plates to the table, setting the steaming food down; Ven instinctively held the box behind his back to hide it. "I brought maple and blueberry syrup. Wasn't sure which was more to your taste. Ketchup for the eggs if you want."

Papyrus groaned. "YOU SEEM TO HAVE CONFUSED ME WITH MY BROTHER."

"Pretty impressive, for me never having met him," Jenna laughed. Then she noticed the napkins spread around the tabletop with random words written on them. She opened her mouth, then decided, "No, that's your business, and it's on me for letting napkins be free." And departed.

Ven brought the clamshell box out front and center again, rifling through to find three sheets of paper. "Huh? What's this?" He unfolded them one by one. Two were on matching stationery; the third was a plainer paper. "Someone wrote us a letter!" Ven realized.

"DRAMATIC READING!" Papyrus cried, pointing at Ven.

"There's an address at the top," Ven began, "but it's crossed out. All that's left is the name 'Hilda Swenson.' Okay." He cleared his throat. "Congratulations! I hope you enjoyed finding this thing, because you and I are just getting started!"

"PLEASE TELL ME THAT MEANS MORE PUZZLES," Papyrus begged.

"See, I've got a secret," Ven continued to read. "Well, two, actually. But I don't believe in just handing things to folks on a silver platter. That's no fun. Isn't the way life works, either. To get anywhere in the world, you gotta get out there and be curious. ('Curious' is underlined.) You gotta ask questions and shake things up till you get answers. And I know you're curious or…you wouldn't be reading this."

Ven was lost in thought, and Papyrus asked, "IS SOMETHING WRONG?"

"Oh." Ven shook his head. "It's fine. I just…I'm not sure if I wasn't curious enough, or if I was too curious. It's always haunted me that I was half of the x-blade and I never even knew. Was I supposed to ask earlier on? Or was I just…supposed to leave that alone, and everything would be fine? Is being curious actually a good thing?"

"I DON'T SEE WHY IT WOULDN'T BE," Papyrus told him. "AFTER ALL, MOST THINGS WORTH FINDING OUT ARE GOOD THINGS. YOU JUST…HAD A BAD ONE. BUT WHAT ARE THE ODDS OF THAT HAPPENING TWICE? FORGET I SAID THAT. WHEN SOMEBODY SAYS THAT, THAT'S ALWAYS WHEN IT HAPPENS."

Ven laughed at that. "No, pretty sure we're done with the x-blade stuff. I'll just go with that for now. Thanks." He cleared his throat again to mark the continuation of the reading: "So what I want you to do now is send me something. From the top of the lighthouse. In Morse Code." He flipped from one page to the next. "As for what I want you to send me, read the little story I've enclosed. That'll get you started. The story makes no sense, you say? Well, you got into this chest, didn't you?"

"IT IS MORE PUZZLES!" Papyrus cried gleefully.

"Anyway," Ven read on, "eventually, you'll find the answer to my first secret. As for my other secret, and I have a sneaking suspicion you are, you'll figure it out along the way. Something is fishy in Snake Horse Harbor, and I'm not just speaking for the halibut!"

Papyrus let out a long, loud, and low groan. "WHY? WHY MUST PUNS CONTINUE TO HAUNT ME?"

"It's a pun?" Ven thought it over, and then it clicked; "AAAUUUUGGHHH, THAT WAS BAD!"

"I KNOW! IT'S SANS-LEVEL MATERIAL!"

Ven turned back to the letter; "Oh, and no funny stuff, because I'm watching you! Hilda." He set the pages down. "I…guess we made a friend?"

"WITHOUT EVEN HAVING TO MEET HER!" Papyrus cheered. "THAT WAS THE EASIEST FRIENDSHIP BEGINNING EVER!"

"She knows something weird is going on here," Ven realized. "I wonder if it's connected to Katie's boat! If she's really watching us…then maybe she's watching Katie, too, and she saw who did it!"

"I WONDER IF HER SECOND SECRET HAS TO DO WITH THE ORCA," Papyrus mused. "OR DID THE BOX COUNT AS ONE OF THE SECRETS? NEVER MIND. SHE SAID THERE WAS A STORY PUZZLE."

"Probably this." Ven picked up the third paper, scanned it, and then winced. "Well…it definitely doesn't make sense."

"TELL ME."

"There once was a dog named Alpha who lived high in the Sierra Nevadas," Ven read. "The dog weighed about 100 kilos and lived in a hotel in the Sierras. Alpha loved his owner, Juliet Smith. Juliet belonged to the Delta Gamma sorority and loved to dance the foxtrot. Her boyfriend was named Oscar and he was quite a Romeo. One day, the owner of the hotel decided to move to India to raise lima beans. That was fine for Ms. Smith because she wanted to live in the Delta Gamma house. But Alpha wanted to stay in the Sierra mountains so he could learn to play golf. The owner eventually moved to India, and even though she loved to foxtrot, Ms. Smith became a tango instructor."

Papyrus thought it over. "SEE, I KNOW IT'S A PUZZLE, BUT I CAN'T HELP BUT FIND THE ENDING RATHER BITTERSWEET. THE HOTEL OWNER GOT WHAT THEY WANTED, BUT JULIET IS STUCK TEACHING A DANCE SHE DOESN'T CARE ABOUT, AND HER DOG STAYED BEHIND TO CHASE HIS DREAMS OF GOLF RATHER THAN MAINTAINING HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH HER. BUT THAT'S ALL BESIDE THE POINT."

"I mean, it is an interesting premise for a story," Ven admitted. "A golfing dog? I'd read a whole book about that! Anyway, you're the puzzle master. Any ideas?"

"HERE'S WHAT KEEPS BOTHERING ME," Papyrus said. "JULIET SMITH ISN'T REFERRED TO BY HER FIRST NAME HALF THE TIME. NOW, IT COULD JUST BE THAT THE AUTHOR IS INCONSISTENT, WHICH HAPPENS SOMETIMES IN LENGTHIER WORKS, BUT SINCE THIS IS A PUZZLE AND ONLY A PAGE LONG, IT HAS TO MEAN SOMETHING."

"Maybe the words are code," Ven guessed. "Either 'Juliet' or 'Smith' means something."

There was a crash from the counter area, and Jenna hissed, "FOXTROT uniform Charlie – " before lowering her voice to a mutter.

"Hm?" Ven turned around. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Jenna groaned. "Just got a lot of broken glass to clean up over here, that's all."

Holt made a neutral grunt.

"EXCUSE ME," Papyrus broke in, "BUT WHY DID YOU SAY ALL THAT BEGINNING WITH 'FOXTROT'?"

"Well, I don't like using actual curse words in the diner," Jenna called back. "I've trained myself to spell them out in Alpha-Bravo instead. Don't…translate the last one I just said, please."

"Spell them out?" Ven asked. "Like…the words mean letters?"

"It's right there on the semaphore poster I saw you guys looking at earlier." Jenna pointed at said poster. "Down on the bottom. It's a naval language for radio communication on the seas."

Ven turned back to Papyrus, eyes wide. "What if the weird words in the story are part of that code?"

"THEN WE HAVE TO CHECK IT OUT IMMEDIATELY!"

As the two hustled over to the poster, Jenna sighed; "You don't need to know my swears that badly."

"Not that!" Ven assured her. "We just figured out something else!"

"THANK YOU FOR DROPPING YOUR DISHES AND GETTING ANGRY!" Papyrus added.

"An…y…time?" Jenna replied, baffled.

Ven and Papyrus muttered over the mysterious story, using the borrowed pen again to write down letters at the bottom of the page. At the end of it all, they had the sentence "ASK HSAJJD FOR HILDAS GIFT."

"That's almost a sentence!" Ven cried.

"DID WE GET SOME OF THE WORDS WRONG?" Papyrus wondered.

"Wait." Ven's eyes widened in realization. "What if that's not supposed to be a word? H.S., A.J., J.D…those are all the initials of people we know on this island!"

"OH MY GOD, VEN!" Papyrus' eyes bugged. "YOU'RE A GENIUS! AND H.S. AND J.D. ARE SITTING RIGHT OVER THERE!"

They scuttled up to the counter. "Jenna!" Ven greeted. "Do you know somebody named Hilda? Hilda Swenson?"

"Now there's a loaded question," Jenna laughed. "What would you say if I told you the answer was 'sort of'?"

"WELL, WE'D WANT TO KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS," Papyrus admitted.

"Hilda Swenson and her husband retired here to Snake Horse Harbor about twenty years ago," Jenna related. "They'd spent their golden years writing and producing in Hollywood, and even after they settled down, they stayed active. Hilda was even mayor for eight years. But then her husband died, and she basically died along with him. In the metaphorical sense."

"That's awful," Ven mourned.

"She stopped making sense," Jenna went on. "Lost herself in puzzles and cryptic codes, then up and moved across the channel to the island property she owns. Since then, all she does is float out strange bottles into the water with numbers and letters no one can make sense of, and always that one word: Rosebud." She whispered the last, dramatically. "I drop off some groceries at her place a couple times a week, but she never wants to socialize."

"MAYBE SHE WAS JUST WAITING FOR SOMEONE WHO LOVED PUZZLES AS MUCH AS SHE DID," Papyrus mused.

"Did she ever give you anything?" Ven asked. "Like a gift?"

"The most beautiful necklace," Jenna related.

"Could we see it?" Ven asked.

"Afraid not," Jenna told him. "At least not today. It's back at my house. And like I said, today's a clamming day, or there's no chowder to feed the hungry masses."

"WHAT IF WE TOOK CARE OF THAT FOR YOU?" Papyrus asked.

"Clamming?" Jenna replied. "I mean, that would be a load off, but you wouldn't have a permit. Though you could get one from Andy Jason, actually…"

"Then we'll do it!" Ven declared. "We'll go visit Whale World, ask him about Hilda, and get our clamming permit!"

"Ask Jenna about Hilda," Holt grunted. "Ask Andy about Hilda. Ever thought of askin' Holt about Hilda?"

"ACTUALLY, YES," Papyrus admitted. "DID SHE EVER GIVE YOU ANYTHING?"

"Matter of fact, she did," Holt related. "I'll show it to ya…but I'd like to ask a favor first. You said you were good with puzzles?"

"THE BEST!" Papyrus proclaimed.

"This chess puzzle's been givin' me fits," Holt said, handing over a scrap of newspaper. "You're supposed to find out how to checkmate in two moves."

Papyrus scanned the paper, which depicated a chessboard populated with sparse pieces, black and white, arranged strategically.

"Now, in case chess ain't your thing," Holt went on, "I got a book – "

"ROOK TO H5 AND ROOK TO H7."

"…What?" Holt flinched.

"THAT'S HOW YOU WIN," Papyrus said. "TRUST ME. I'VE HAD TO MAKE PLAYS OF THIS COMPLEXITY TO BEST SANS' UTTERLY VEXING STYLE OF JUST MOVING PIECES AT RANDOM. HOW CAN YOU STAY TWO STEPS AHEAD OF AN OPPONENT WHO DOESN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT HIS OWN NEXT STEP IS? IT'S INFURIATING!"

"Well, I'll be." Holt looked over the page that Papyrus gave back to him. "That'd do it! All right. I'll show ya."

He dug into a pocket, then retrieved a folding knife with an ornate tiled handle. "Here ya go. Not sure what good it'll do ya."

Ven and Papyrus looked at the handle. It had letters pressed into its tiles. Presumably another puzzle or code. But neither of them could figure out why the words "ONE BUM" were integral to the next step.

"DID SHE WRITE THAT IN REFERENCE TO A HOMELESS PERSON OR A DERRIERE?" Papyrus asked.

"Search me," Holt replied. "Never understood it myself. But the knife's solid and the handiwork is quality, so I ain't never complained."

"We'll just need to think on it," Ven suggested. "How about we go over to Whale World next and get our permit?"

"A CAPITAL IDEA, VEN! WE'LL PROVE THAT WE'RE NOT JUST 'ONE BUM' EACH!"

As Ven and Papyrus bolted out the door, Jenna shook her head. "I have no idea what those two are up to."

"Nothin' good," Holt grunted.

"Have a little faith," Jenna told him. "Besides. Would you have shown them the knife if you didn't think they were getting anywhere?"

"Shut up."

...

Outside the other exit to the mines, Harley, Yang, Giovanni, Crusher, Spike, Dark Star, Flamethrower, Car Crash, and Ben all entered a realm of bright sunlight over green grass.

"Feels good to be back in my namesake!" Yang said as she stretched her arms upward over her head, cracking her knuckles.

"Namesake?" Giovanni repeated. "Does 'Yang' mean 'sun' or something?"
"Sort of. Well, basically, yes," Yang answered. "I was just trying to be clever."

"Oh, you don't even need to try," Harley told Yang with a playful nudge.

"So I've been thinking on that," Giovanni mused. "You can do that whole big explodey thing. And that's gotta be the basis for your minion name."

"Oh yeah?" Yang replied, clearly interested.

"So if your name means 'sun' or something," Giovanni went on, "then that means…" He gave a dramatic gasp before saying, as laden with emphasis as possible, "SOLAR FLARE."

Yang laughed; "I like it! Just so long as I don't have to wear one of those Banzai uniforms."

"Y'know, we really should get those changed now that we don't work for them," Giovanni mused. "Aw, but I put so much work into this outfit…"

"You could make whatever ya want now!" Harley encouraged.

"Yeah, well, what if what I WANT is – " Giovanni shook his head. "Forget it. The important thing is, the squad is reunited. And with that many more cool swords! The other Heathens are gonna be sooooo jealous when we get back to the ship!"

"We can tell them the epic story of our discovery of the forge!" Flamethrower suggested. "And how we conquered the mines!"

"You are so smart, Flamethrower," Giovanni told him. "That's why I'm having you promoted to Head Flamethrower. It's basically the same as your current position, but with an honorific to show how much I appreciate you."

"Gee, thanks, boss!" Flamethrower brightened.

"Though if we tell the story later," Car Crash asked, "let's edit out the part where we got all kinds of lost and couldn't figure out how to get out of the mines without you breaking the wall. Please?"

"Of course, Car Crash," Giovanni agreed. "The most important part of any recounting of a successful heist is, of course, leaving out the embarrassing parts."

"Yeah," Ben agreed, "like when we were trying to leave, and you had no idea where you were going, so you tried crawling through that tunnel that was way too small and we had to spend like half an hour getting you unstuck from it. Now that's a story literally no one wants to hear all the boring details of."

"Why would you bring it up IN A CONVERSATION ABOUT NOT BRINGING IT UP?" Giovanni yelled.

"Guys?" Harley interrupted, having come to a halt at the end of the meadow – because the meadow itself had ended. Before them, the ground made a steep dropoff, and an absolutely gargantuan ravine spread out before them, with grassy ridges connected by rope-and-plank bridges.

"Whoa." Yang gaped. "This is almost better than that rainbow geyser thing."

"Big deal," Ben grunted. "It's a canyon. I've seen grander."

"YOU SHUT UP!" Spike yelled. "THIS IS FUCKING AWESOME, OKAY?"

"I want to run across every single one of those bridges," Crusher said in a half-daze. "I have no idea why, but I'm consumed."

"Well, good news, Crusher," Harley told him. "If we wanna find where Ragsy ended up, we're gonna hafta get across this big ol' ravine. Which means crossin' lots an' lots of bridges!"

"So cool," Crusher muttered under his breath.

The bridges swayed perilously, causing several of the Blasters to cling to each other out of fear, and that inspired Harley to pounce on Yang, playacting, "Ohhh, nooo! I'm scared I'll fall right off this bridge!"

"Don't worry," Yang told her, squeezing an arm around Harley's waist right back. "This time, I've got both arms for my landing strategy. If you fall, I'll go down with you, and that's why we'll both make it."

They all stopped to sit down in the grass on one particular ridge; Flamethrower and Dark Star started plucking flowers to make into chains with the grass blades.

"Shame we don't have enough food for a picnic," Harley mused. "It's the perfect – WHAT?"
An orb of bright orange liquid was hovering before her quite suddenly.

"Uh, helloooo?" Giovanni reminded her. "Soup Epithet? Hope you were in the mood for butternut squash. I was in the mood for butternut squash."

"So, like," Yang wondered, "if you're generating the soup from your Sembl – Epithet, does that mean it's actual squash or is it like a magic duplicate?"

"I – um – well – " Giovanni sputtered. "Don't think too hard about it, okay?"

"That soup don't do us no good without bowls," Harley pointed out.

"WELL, I'M SORRY MY EPITHET ISN'T 'BOWL'!" Giovanni raged.

"Chill." Yang put out her metal hand, flourishing it to conjure up a ceramic bowl of bright yellow. "Dream logic, remember?"

They all stopped to partake in a soup picnic.

"This is so great!" Car Crash squealed. "The weather's perfect, we're all together, we're on this awesome ravine, we've got good food…what could go wrong?"

The flapping of immense wings stirred the winds around them, disturbing any loose grass.

"You just had to ask, didn't you?" Yang groaned.

It winged its way up from the bottom of the ravine and into view before them, hovering off the cliff edge. An immense monster of many garish colors, its fists encased in gauntlets grown from its own body, its face batlike with pointed ears, its overall shape resembling that of a gargoyle –

"ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?" Giovanni shook his fist at the Wargoyle. "WHY IS IT THIS THING AGAIN?"

Harley and Yang were on their feet in an instant. "You guys know what to do!" Harley cried. "What we did last time!"

"BUT I DON'T HAVE A CAR!" Car Crash wailed.

"Is that gonna be a problem?" Yang asked, squaring up and activating Ember Celica.

"Now that I think about it, yeah," Harley realized. "Okay, uh…new plan!"

The Wargoyle was already charging its fists up with bright orange flames, readying a strike.

"Yang an' Gio," Harley commanded, "do a double explosion special! The rest a' you guys, cover fire! An' I'll…I'll…"

The Wargoyle raised both arms high, ready to deploy its inferno.

A sudden slash. The Wargoyle shuddered, its magic dissipating. Then its top half fell neatly off its bottom half, both pieces of the Dream Eater plummeting to the bottom of the ravine.

As the Heathens stared in awe, the slayer of the Wargoyle, revealed when it fell, sheathed an immense sword on his back, where it crossed paths with the sheaths of twin daggers. At first, he stood tall and proud, almost aloof, not even looking at the people he'd just saved but rather closing his eyes pensively. He cut an impressive figure: tall and muscular (almost as much so as Eizen), dressed in a hakama of oranges and purples, and his long dark hair in a shaggy ponytail, with enough left out front to cover his right eye completely.

Giovanni choked on his own saliva. The man was utterly gorgeous. And he'd taken down the Wargoyle in one shot. Giovanni's heart was about ready to burst out from its confines.

"Phew!" Harley sighed. "Thanks, pal. We owe ya one?"

"WHA – " The stranger flinched, very nearly backpedaling over the edge of the cliff. Then he laughed; "Whoa! I didn't even see you guys there!"

"But I thought you were saving us from that monster!" Spike protested.

"Saving?" the stranger replied. "Nah. I just wanted to fight it. Well, okay, I wanted to fight the one that made it, but that one was in the way first. The big one's losing its touch. They're falling so much easier now."

"Uh, Gio?" Yang nudged Giovanni. "You good there?"

How long had he been standing there with eyes wide and jaw practically on the grass? "Uh. Me? There good," he replied.

"You must be a warrior!" Crusher realized. "Even the cops only carry one sword at most. But you have THREE swords!"

"Good catch!" The stranger beamed. "Yeah, fighting's pretty much my life. Funny story, I came here to look for the legendary forge of Kurogane, but didn't end up finding it. What I did find was all these weird daemons that infested the ravine. Dunno why they're more colorful than usual, but a daemon is a daemon. I figure it's a good way to kill an afternoon. Get some practice in."

"Legendary forge of Kurogane?" Dark Star wondered out loud. "You think that's related to the place we found that – "

Car Crash nudged him with an elbow; "Shut up! We can't let this guy know we beat him to what he was looking for!"

"You do realize you said that out loud," Yang told them both.

"Huh?" The stranger looked in their direction. "You say something?"

"Yeah," Car Crash answered. "What I said was – "

"Zzzzzip!" Yang made a quick motion of pantomiming zipping her lips shut.

"Sooooo." Giovanni had finally activated his smooth mode. "What's a morally ambiguous guy like you doing in a place like this?"

After a pause, the stranger said, "I'm fighting daemons. I just said that. I think."

"Cool, cool!" Giovanni fired him finger-guns. "Respect!"

"So you're one a' them good guys who protects the innocent from the monsters?" Harley groaned. "Sorry, but we're at max capacity for that archetype." She winked at Yang.

"Oh, no, don't get me wrong," the stranger said. "I just wanna fight. There's no 'protecting' about it. I mean, I guess if it does protect somebody, that's a nice bonus. But I'm always looking for the next big challenge, no matter what it is or how dangerous!" He struck an arrogant pose, head tilted upward. "After all, I'm aiming to be the greatest swordsman in the world!"

"Question," Giovanni replied. "How do you feel about crime?"

"Crime?" the stranger repeated. "Iunno. Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. I think I did, let's see…three illegal things in the last town I was in? Though one of those was NOT my fault. Nobody told me there was a sword limit to carry into that inn. Limiting swords is a stupid rule anyway."

"So…are you…uh…" Giovanni tapped his fingertips together. "With anybody right now? I mean like as a syndicate."

"I'm more of a loner these days," the stranger admitted. Then his countenance fell. "To tell you the truth…that's getting kind of boring. I dunno, I never thought I needed anyone but me, but lately, it feels like there's something really important missing. And no. I didn't forget my underwear again."

"This is just a meetin' of the minds, ain't it?" Harley rolled her eyes.

"Why?" the stranger asked. "You…need a swordsman? Heading into a tough fight? Heading into a bunch of tough fights?"

"I wouldn't say 'need,'" Yang told him. "But we wouldn't mind the company. You kinda seem like one of us anyway."

"You'll fit right in!" Spike chirped.

"You should TOTALLY join us!" Giovanni emphasized. "We could be the perfect team together! My devious brain with your expert swordsmanship!"

"NO WE WOULDN'T!" Crusher blurted, having caught on. "We, uh, we don't need a swordsman! We already have two here! See?" He retrieved a sword from the dreamspace. "I'm one, and, uhhhhh…"

"He has no idea how to use that thing," Yang betrayed.

Harley sidled up to Crusher and hissed in his ear, "We'll talk later. Consider it free therapy. But I'm thinkin' this guy could be a big help ta us?"

"But the Boss," Crusher hissed.

"Is gettin' the same blank stare outta him that you get outta Gio," Harley pointed out.

To confirm this, the stranger said, "Well, I wouldn't mind being part of the perfect team. Though I dunno if I'd call it 'perfect' if our fighting styles aren't balanced. See, I think an optimal battalion should have someone skilled in Mystic Artes, someone who specializes in single-sword wielding, probably a healer, I'd really like somebody who just punches the hell out of things, maybe a spear wielder?"

"But. Um." Giovanni pointed to himself. "I'm…I'm Giovanni Potage. I'm great at crime. I'm the captain of this Banzai Blaster squad! You don't need all those other types of fighter when you've got me!"

"Are you saying you're skilled in all those disciplines?" the stranger asked unironically.

"This hurts to watch," Harley told Crusher. "But you're fine."

"Look, just join our team already," Yang urged. "You're already the best Huntsman I've ever seen, and your weapons are old-school. You don't wanna be alone anymore, and we're hiring."

"Hey, uh, Solar Flare?" Dark Star brought up. "Should we really be making friends with dream people? What happens when it's time to wake up?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Yang said. "Same way we did all these other bridges."

"Well, it'll be good to have a sword guy on board!" Harley chirped. "Welcome to the Heathens!"

"Wait a minute," Giovanni realized. "Why did that sound so familiar? Say that again."

"Welcome to the Heathens?" Harley repeated.

"Nonono, not that part," Giovanni corrected. "Before that."

"I said it'd be good to have a sword guy – " And Harley realized it.

She and Giovanni cried it in unison: "SWORD GUY!"

"Actually, my name's 'Rokurou,'" the stranger corrected. "Rokurou Rangetsu. 'Sword Guy' is a little too on the nose. Though now that I think about it, 'Rokurou' means 'sixth son,' and that's what I am, so maybe that's pretty on the nose, too…"

"You don't…ahhhh…" Harley fumbled for the words. "Remember anythin' about fightin' a buncha scrappers on the streets of the big city, do ya?"

"You're going to have to be more specific," Rokurou told her.

"Y'knowwww," Harley wheedled, "jester-lookin' gal, buncha evil minions in yellow, guy in a big dramatic cape, cute little girl in a bear hoodie…any a' this ringin' bells?"

"Nnnnnooooo," Rokurou mused, "can't say it does. I'd remember seeing a group like that."

"Just checking," Yang brought up. "Does that description sound familiar in ANY way?"

"Nnnnope," Rokurou said.

"As in." Yang extended her arms.

"Oh," Rokurou realized. "Now I see it. I don't think we've fought before. Have we? Were you guys any good? I'm always up for a rematch."

Every single Blaster screamed "NO!"

"Let's skip that," Harley told him. "Long story short, ya kicked our butts so hard, that's how we know you're the fella we need on our side."

"Cool." Rokurou nodded. "Though before we do whatever you guys are doing, I've got a favor to ask."

"Shoot!" Harley told him. "Or, y'know…slice?"

"That daemon that almost got you guys was spawned by another one," Rokurou explained. "I've been tracking it all over the ravine. Somehow, it has the ability to create more daemons. It's like some kind of…reverse Therion. It's not even trying to venomize with the other daemons, which is really weird. But that doesn't have to matter. I won't question it. I just wanna beat it. It's the toughest one I've seen in a long while, and already, it's given me such a chase that I can't possibly give up."

"So you want us to help you take down the monster you peruse!" Giovanni realized. "Oh, we are SO there!"

"It's 'pursue,'" Ben said dryly.

"NO, IT ISN'T!" Giovanni roared. "LEARN YOUR WORDS, BEN!"

"I wanna be clear, though," Rokurou said. "The big daemon, the one who's making all the little ones? That's mine. I'm serious; I don't want a single one of you to lay a hand or a weapon on it. The whole point is I wanna finally beat it and get stronger for it. If any of you interferes, I can't promise you won't get hurt. Which is why I'm letting you know now."

"But if we ain't s'posed to touch the thing," Harley said with a shrug, "whatsit ya want from us?"

"Like I said," Rokurou explained, "this daemon can make more. It keeps slowing me down by throwing weaklings at me whenever I get close. I already know I can take them out pretty darn quick. But then it uses that opening to escape, and I'm stuck fighting small fry. Where you come in is keeping the little ones at bay and clearing a path so I can get up close and personal to the head honcho."

"We can do that," Yang said with a smile.

"We can SO do that!" Giovanni agreed. "We can do that the best you've ever seen that done!"

"Then let's go hunt ourselves a daemon!" Rokurou suggested with a hearty laugh.

They crossed several more bridges, going from grassy ridge to grassy ridge. Yang attempted to ask Rokurou about these five siblings he apparently had, but every single time, he deflected it with "Nah, you don't wanna hear about all that drama" and decided to talk about swords instead, which was the one thing about him that reminded Yang starkly of Ruby. Giovanni hung onto Rokurou's every word, pink eyes sparkling, and Crusher dragged his feet as he fell behind, consumed with jealousy.

That was why he was the only one far back enough to notice when the little blue rabbit came hopping out of the bushes. Crusher hung back, letting the others get away from him, as he examined this particular rabbit. It was a strange creature, hopping about on two stubby legs while keeping its forelegs raised. Its coat was a patchwork of aquamarines and ocean blues, and its ears were even longer than its body, flopping about every which way. Its ruby-red eyes made a stark contrast against all the blue – so much that Crusher didn't notice the plum-colored emblem on its chest, a splintered heart with wings. Not that he would've known the significance of it anyway.

Crusher stared at the Me Me Bunny. The Me Me Bunny stared up at him. Then Crusher softly smiled and whispered, "You're adorable."

The Me Me Bunny responded by curling one ear up into a fist, leaping up, and using that ear-fist to uppercut Crusher's jaw.

After giving a cry out and reeling back, Crusher finally got his bearings. It felt like one of his teeth might actually be out of place. He shook his head, glaring down at the bunny; "That was NOT NICE – "

The shadow rose over him, and he quivered, stepping back.

It wasn't as big as the Wargoyle. Still big. And very mean-looking. A pair of massive wings fluttered out from its back, lime-green in color, with plumage that resembled the keys of a piano. One of these wings was curled around a strange weapon: a broom topped with a crystal orb. The creature's face was birdlike, its beak sharp and wicked; it seemed to be clothed in a hat and robe of sorts, though those might have been part of its body.

Upon being sighted, the Spellican let out a harsh caw at Crusher, flying closer to intimidate him.

And Crusher realized in his petrification, he'd stepped back one pace too far, and the only way left for his boots to go that way was off the edge of the cliff itself. He jerked, feeling the fall begin to set in, and he wasn't sure whether he was going to die by impact of hitting the ravine's bottom or by the Spellican swallowing him whole as it divebombed.

A rush of motion, an inversion of gravity, and Crusher lay facedown on the grass as the Spellican missed him, careening down into the ravine. The massive Nightmare pivoted its wings to make an about-face, and began working its way up. Crusher needed a minute or two to figure out he wasn't dead, and when he finally peeled himself up off the ground, he realized why he was still breathing: Giovanni had tackled him, wrested him onto the grass, and sat before him whimpering in concern.

"Boss?" Crusher croaked. "You…you saved me?"

Giovanni's expression went from concern to confusion. "Uh…yeah? Because you're one of my best friends and have been for, like, a year and a half or however long we've been Banzai Blasters together? Why is this a surprise to you?"

There was something here that Crusher knew he should've been realizing about the power of friendship over romantic jealousy, but he didn't have time to complete that character arc because the Spellican had completed its roundabout and was now hovering above the two wayward Blasters – just in time for the rest of their Heathen contingent to show up.

"Well, well!" Rokurou smirked wickedly. "If it ain't the daemon I was lookin' for. NOW we can settle this!"

Giovanni and Crusher rejoined the group, and within a few moments, several pistols, two baseball bats (one featuring a knife), Ember Celica, and a pair of shortswords were at the ready.

The Me Me Bunny had hopped out onto the field, and Crusher pointed at it with an accusatory finger; "THAT THING IS NOT AS INNOCENT AS IT LOOKS!"

A quivering of magic in the air. Multicolored cats, frogs, and snails appeared before the Spellican as its strike force.

"What the fuck?" Giovanni gestured at the assembled Nightmares. "That's it? It's gonna try and slow us down with SNAILS? I expected better here!"

The Spellican heard and understood that. The small-fry Nightmares hopped off to either side, and down slammed a rhinoceros, a triceratops, and a Tyrannosaurus Rex in pastels.

"NOW THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!" Giovanni crowed. "BLASTERS! CONCENTRATE ALL FIRE ON THE RHINO! SOLAR FLARE, YOU AND I PULL A DOUBLE CRIT EXPLOSION EXTRAORDINAIRE ON THE T-REX! HARLEY QUINN THE HARLEQUIN, YOU EVADE THE CERA AND KEEP IT BUSY UNTIL WE CAN CONVERGE ON IT! AND SIXTH SON OF THE SWORD, THE BIRD'S ALL YOURS!"

"Hey, Sixth Son of the Sword!" Rokurou laughed. "I like it!"

"Now let's make these dinos extinct!" Harley commanded. She rushed forward, leading the charge with a shriek of "GO, GO, GO!"

The Drill Sye rolled up to charge the Blasters who fired upon it; Spike yelled "YOU'RE A DISGRACE TO SPIKES" before leaping up and onto its spherical form, feet moving frantically as though she were on a log roll.

"SPIKE, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" Flamethrower yelled.

"I DON'T KNOWWWWW!" Spike wailed. "IT JUST SEEMED LIKE A GOOD IDEA AT THE TIME! JUST FIRE!"

As the pistol-fire rained on the Drill Sye, Harley zigzagged this way and that, dodging the Cera Terror's ramming with its sharp horns. "Missed me, missed me!" she teased, blowing a raspberry. "Now ya gotta kiss me!"

"HEY!" Yang called over playfully as Giovanni took hits ten, eleven, and twelve to charge up her Aura and his one non-soup-related special power. "Are you cheating on me with a sexy dinosaur? I always wanted my love life to be like a romance novel, but not THAT kind!"

She raised her arms, crossed them, broke the X, broke out in flames, and took a running charge. Giovanni matched her pace, bat held high. When bat and fist struck the Tyranto Rex, it dissipated immediately, without even having a chance to use its massive jaws against them.

The Drill Sye vanished as well, brought down by Blaster blasts, and now they all turned their attention to the Cera Terror, with Yang cocking up both wristlets before opening massive fire. Giovanni made it rain meteorites of soup, Car Crash ran on instinct and leapt onto the Terror's horns to try and pin it down, and Harley leapt from the ground to its back in order to whack a devastating blow to the back of its skull.

Once the heavy hitters were out of the way, the Me Mes, the Necho Cats, and the Escarglows came hurrying back in (and Giovanni realized the Escarglows were surprisingly fast for a bunch of snails). As most of the Blasters turned their fire on these much smaller targets, Giovanni and Harley found their gazes drifting in Rokurou's direction.

Rokurou used his twin shortswords to cut through a hail of glowing meteors that the Spellican had summoned to rain upon him; as he got closer to the bird, it transmuted its broom-staff into a blade of gleaming light, which prompted Rokurou to whip the larger sword off his back and engage in a duel. All while still having to watch out for the shooting stars. One blew him off his feet, sending him tumbling backward, head over heels.

"We can't just let him die to that bird thing!" Giovanni cried. "He's too pretty to die that young!"

"Agreed, but for different reasons," Harley said. "We gotta help!"

They made to rush forward in synchrony, but both were jerked back by a sharp tug on their collars. Yang had Harley's collar in one hand and Giovanni's in the other, and she planted her feet to hold them back.

"Don't do it," she said coldly. "He said we might get hurt if we interfered."

"But HE'S gonna get hurt if we DON'T interfere!" Giovanni protested. "And cute guy or no cute guy, he's our new pal! Our partner in crime! A ride-or-die, meaning we can't let him DIE! That's not what we're about!"

"C'mon, Yang!" Harley tugged at Yang's grip. "Wouldn't ya do it for Team RWBY?"

Yang's eyes flared red without warning. "Of couse I would. In a heartbeat. But the next one of them who tries to do that for ME, I'll never forgive, because I can't get back to the top UNTIL I PROVE TO MYSELF THAT I DON'T NEED SAVING! And that's what's going on with him! Don't ask me how I know; I just KNOW!"

"Ohhhhh." Giovanni and Harley experienced a synchronized jaw-drop in revelation.

"Keep bashin' the tinies?" Harley suggested.

"Let's make these snails into that French thing I can't pronounce but have always wanted to make," Giovanni agreed.

Rokurou made a final charge at the Spellican, summoning Dark magic to channel through his shortswords and blast away the aerial minefield of Dark spheres the bird was sending toward him. He feinted, took an opening, drew his larger blade one last time –

With a shudder, the bird fell into halves, and was gone into nothing.

"THATWASSOFUCKINGAWESOME!" Car Crash yelped, leaping up and down excitedly once the field was clear of enemies.

"We sure bet on the right horse with you, Roku!" Harley flashed Rokurou a thumbs-up.

"Hey, thanks for keeping the easy prey occupied while I went for the big boss," Rokurou replied, smiling. Then he took on a more serious expression: "And also, I saw that. You trying to rush in and rescue me, and her holding you back. Look, I appreciate that you wanted to protect me, but I appreciate even more that you decided not to do it. When I take on a challenge, it's always knowing I might die. That's just part of this kind of life. You let me prove I could overcome it and be stronger than the daemon. And if I couldn't do that, then I wouldn't be worth your time anyway."

"Awww, c'mooooon!" Giovanni urged. "What about the fact that we're pals now? Sure, it's badass and all that you can wield three swords, but you can also TALK about swords and it's not as boring as it could be! You fit right in!"

Rokurou beamed at him. "Y'know what? Maybe this WAS what I was missing. Think I'll tag along with you guys as long as I can get away with it. You seem to have a knack for getting into trouble anyway, and I'm lookin' for trouble. So. What's next on the trouble agenda?"

"Findin' a friend of ours," Harley told him. "He's in some kinda broken-down temple place around here, somewhere."

"Oh, the Yvolg Ruins!" Rokurou realized. "Dunno why anyone would wanna scout that place out. The daemons aren't even that challenging to kill. But I guess it does have a lot of valuables people keep not picking up, if you're into that. C'mon! I'll take you right there. I'd like to meet this friend of yours anyway!"

"Soooo," Yang wheedled as they set off again, "now do you feel like telling us about your family drama?"

Rokurou laughed it off. "What I feel like telling you about is the legend of daemon swordsman Kurogane and his cursed blades. Boy, what I wouldn't give to get my hands on one of those. See, it ties back into the legend of Stormhowl. Long ago, Kurogane made a sword that was peerless…"

...

In the realm of the awake, Mozenrath found a deep ravine of his own. The compass had led him and his fellows to an enormous chasm torn unevenly in the ocean floor, in an unpopulated part of the Atlantican nation where the water inexplicably seemed to turn colder. Even as the group approached the edge of the chasm, they couldn't see down to the bottom – it seemed to extend forever, into a yawning black void.

"I don't like this," Mozenrath muttered.

"I do," Gill brought up. "It's creepy. I could live here."

"WILL YOU STOP MOVING INTO EVERY VAGUELY HORRIFIC PLACE WE FIND THAT FITS YOUR AESTHETIC?" Mozenrath chided.

"Really, what could go wrong here?" Yzma asked.

"You're asking that?" Mozenrath replied. "You?"

"I…I'm actually not sure if I was aiming for sarcasm or not," Yzma realized.

They came to the mouth of the ravine, and Mozenrath halted. "It's not that this doesn't sit right," he said. "It's that it missed the entire chair."

"Oh, please." Everyone could tell, even without seeing it, that Mysterio was rolling his eyes from within his diving-bell helmet. "It's a dark and scary abyss. What's to fear? We're the villains here! And most of us have incomparable power!"

"That doesn't mean we should go charging in without taking a look around," Wuya warned. "That's how you get torn to shreds by unexpected vampires."

"We wait 'till we've secured the perimeter," Shocker said. "An' that's an order."

Well, that was the worst mistake he could have made.

"You think YOU can order ME around?" Mysterio spat at him. "After dismissing, disrespecting, and dis…just DISSING me back in the Lost City? No! I've had it! You don't get to tell me what I can and cannot handle!"

"BECK," Shocker hissed. "Don't you do what I think you're about to do."

"And why not?" Mysterio retorted; he was already outpacing the rest of the group, continuing past where they were slowing to a stop. "You think I'll get myself KILLED? Need I remind you that's already happened? Death means nothing to me! I AM IMMORTAL AND UNBREAKABLE!"

"BECK, I SWEAR TO ALL THAT'S HOLY, IF YOU DON'T STOP IN YER TRACKS RIGHT THERE – "

"GOOD THING I DON'T LEAVE TRACKS, THEN!" Mysterio vanished over the lip of the canyon.

"Is one of us going to go retrievalate him?" Zevon wondered out loud.

"Don't see why we gotta," Shocker huffed. "After all, he brought this on himself. An' he's right. He dies, we bring 'im back, he eats a heapin' helping of humble pie. For once."

"Shocker has a point," Wuya said. "Besides. I have thirty coppers on it that he just turns tail and comes back once he gets scared of the dark."

"No one's going to actually bet against you on that," Gill warned her.

"So what now?" Yzma asked. "Are we just going to sit around here twiddling our fins?"

"Oh, how often you underestimate me, Yzma," Mozenrath replied. "Watch and learn."

He drew a large circle in the water with his index finger: a ring of electric blue. He tapped it, and it filled in with more blue, a shimmer running across its surface. A second tap and it became transparent.

"Now let's see what we're dealing with," Mozenrath muttered. "Closer…"

Tap. The circle's view changed to much further down the chasm, as though it were a magnifying glass. There was only black. Then a flash of green as Mysterio flicked past.

"Closer…" Mozenrath sent the vision down further. Even more solid black. "Closer…"

It took about five enlargements before the others realized that the vision had gone down some type of tunnel – by no means a narrow one, but narrower than the rest of the chasm. It looked like it extended below the chasm's proper floor.

Then into view, a sharp, stark, sudden set of long and jagged teeth, set right into the ground, lip-like growths pulsing around them.

Everyone recoiled.

"And this is why we conduct recon," Mozenrath stated. "We wouldn't have wanted to swim directly into that thing's open jaws…I don't think. Well, I wouldn't have, at any rate. The rest of you could take the opportunity to abuse my resurrection capabilities."

"Actually, no!" Zevon realized. "That's a Morphlacc! I saw one in the Chamber of Structuration in Numeria!"

"Morphlacc?" Mozenrath repeated. He tilted his head to quarter away from Zevon; "So…a missing link between the Sarlacc and Morpha? That…makes more sense than my pride is comfortable admitting."

"Why would this have anything to do with resurrection?" Wuya asked, suspicion rising in her voice.

"Well, because," Zevon said, chest puffed with the arrogance of a scholar giving a lecture, "the Morphlacc does not instantaneantly kill its prey. It sucks it in, then digests the flesh and skin off it for a period of several days, slowly and very painfully!"

It then sank in why, in particular, that was a bad thing at that very moment. "Oh. I suppose one of us should – "

Shocker was already over the edge of the cliff, yelling, "YOU GET BACK HERE!"

"Maybe MORE than one of us should go after him," Yzma suggested.

"Yzma," Mozenrath reminded her. "Quentin is already going to be incensed that ONE person, who he isn't fond of right now, is attempting to tell him that his judgment was…less than optimal. If we ALL show up, then rather than him getting slowly and painfully subjected to digestion for several days, we'll be the ones slowly and painfully subjected to HIS WHINING FOR SEVERAL DAYS."

"I feel like I should argue that," Wuya said, "but I really don't want to."

Mysterio's pace was sluggish enough that Shocker was able to catch up to him fairly quickly – even if in a spot that was uncomfortably deep and dark. Shocker slid in front of him, blocking his path; "You turn around RIGHT NOW – "

"You're not the boss of me." Mysterio pivoted to swim around him.

And Shocker slid into his path again. "You don't understand! The head honchos up there, they just used their magic ta figure out there's some sorta monster down there that'll eat ya alive an' melt your flesh down! You keep goin' down there an' – "

"Oh, LIKELY STORY!" Mysterio scoffed. "Please. Even I could make up something more believable." He thought back on that wording. "Don't read into how I phrased that."

He tried, yet again, to swim around Shocker. And Shocker blocked him again.

"Why are you SO AFRAID I'll be competent, let alone better than you?" Mysterio asked.

"This. Ain't. About. That," Shocker grunted. "You gotta let that go RIGHT NOW, or you're gonna end up in your own li'l world of hurt."

"No, you're just upset that I'll prove you WRONG, and I'm not leaving here until I HAVE!"

He gave Shocker a light shove – not enough to hurt or be too forceful, but enough to get him out of the way so he could progress into the abyss.

Shocker turned, ready to give chase.

And then the world gave way.

The ocean itself was pulled down in an immense undertow, the Morphlacc beginning its trawl for edible lifeforms. And in one terrifying moment, Mysterio turned back, and though the diving-bell helmet blocked his expression, Shocker knew that the look of fear in his eyes exactly mirrored that which existed in Shocker's own.

Mysterio was pulled down. So was Shocker. The latter snapped into fight mode, running on instinct and adrenaline alone. One hand reached out to seize Mysterio, who had flipped in the current and was flailing helplessly until Shocker caught him by the end of the tail, a fist locked just above his lowest fins. Shocker's other hand pointed down into the abyss –

He didn't have his gauntlets here.

There was no time to let panic stop him. He drove his other hand into the rock wall, fumbling and grasping, scraping and drawing blood, until it latched onto a ridge with a single organism of pink coral sprouting from it. There, he finally found purchase, and he clung on for dear life – his and Quentin's – as they dangled, pulled by the undertow of the hungry maw below.

This didn't go unnoticed above. The pull wasn't as strong at the canyon's surface, but they could all tell the water was plummeting directly down.

"I CHANGED MY MIND!" Mozenrath yelled as he backed away from the edge. "WUYA! DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS!"

"OH, AND WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?" Wuya yelled over the roaring waters.

"USE YOUR MAGIC TO CUT THROUGH THE WHIRLPOOL AND GET THEM!" Mozenrath commanded.

"IT DOESN'T WORK LIKE THAT!" Wuya yelled back. "Unless you want me to go plunging DIRECTLY INTO THAT THING'S STOMACH!"

"THEN USE WHATEVER HEYLIN TRICK YOU HAVE!"

Well, Wuya did have one, but it wasn't going to be the instant gratification Mozenrath was expecting. She peered over chasm's edge, summoning up a disc of green aura in each hand with a sigil at the center of each. She plunged one hand over the side, sticking the disc to the rock wall like a magnet. Then the other in front of it. She clambered into the canyon this way, feeling the pull get stronger on her hair and tail fins as she reverse-rock-climbed to get to the depths, knowing if her magical magnets gave way, she would shoot right past her targets and end up as lunch.

Shocker was still trying to think of a way to reverse the situation from where he was standing without having his gauntlets to blast away on. He tightened his grip on the ledge.

There was an obvious solution, of course. Let go of the dead weight.

He wouldn't. He couldn't. He probably should have been able to, but it was out of the question.

A muffled yell came from below, where Mysterio was suspended, about to plunge headfirst into the creature's jaws if Shocker's grip relented. It was very obviously a cry of "ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?"

"WHADDA YOU THINK?" Shocker yelled at him.

"For the record, THIS ISN'T MY FAULT!" Mysterio yelled right back, trying not to think about how he had only one point of contact with anything resembling a lifeline.

"I AIN'T HERE TO THROW BLAME!" Shocker yelled. "I'M HERE TO GET US OUTTA THIS! NOW SHUT UP FOR TWO SECONDS SO I CAN THINK!"

"OH, YOU'D LOVE ME TO SHUT UP, WOULDN'T Y – "

"THIS AIN'T THE TIME, BECK!"

The next reply came back muffled. And Shocker shouldn't have cared, really. His primary focus was figuring out how they didn't both die horribly and painfully in this catastrophe. And yet curiosity overcame him. Because if Mysterio was saying anything in what could be their last moments for the next few days, he should probably hear it.

So he yelled "WHAT'S THAT?"

It came up muffled again. Because of the helmet and because Mysterio obviously was trying not to say whatever it was he was saying at any audible volume. Yet here he was saying something anyway.

"I CAN'T HEAR YA!" Shocker yelled at him. "YOU WANNA GIMME SOME LAST WORDS, THEN SPEAK UP!"

Half the problem was taken care of when Mysterio's helmet was ripped clean off by the whirlpool. Now his face was exposed to the water, feeling the rapid rush. Was he even Mysterio now, with his helmet gone, his pride gone, most of his inhibitions gone? Here, on the precipice of a fate worse than simple death?

Quentin Beck looked back up one more time at Shocker. No. Not at Shocker. At…Montana. If they came out of this unscathed, he should really make a point of rooting out his actual name.

And he cried out forlornly, "I SAID YOU WERE RIGHT! I'M A MORON, OKAY? I WANT TO BE RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING, BUT IT KEEPS BEING THAT I NEVER AM, SO NOW I GUESS MY INCOMPETENCE GETS US KILLED! AND YOU MIGHT AS WELL JUST – "

Montana didn't hear the next two words, but all the same, he knew what they were:

"Let…go."

"HECK NO!" Montana yelled at him. "I'm draggin' you outta this if it's the last thing I do!"

"So you can feed YOUR ego at the expense of me admitting all I do is POSTURING?"

"IT AIN'T POSTURIN'!" Montana yelled back. "NOT ALL OF IT, ANYWAY! A TEAM CAN'T RUN ON ONE KINDA SKILL ALONE, AND WHAT YOU GOT IS WHAT I DON'T! I'M BRAWN; YOU'RE BRAINS! YOU GOT CREATIVITY; I DON'T!"

"DON'T LIE TO FLATTER ME JUST BECAUSE WE'RE GOING TO BE DIGESTED!"

"I AIN'T!" Montana protested. "WHEN I SAID YOU WEREN'T COMPETENT EARLIER, THAT WAS WHEN I WAS LYIN'!"

"WELL, WHY ON EARTH WOULD YOU DO THAT?"

"'CAUSE YOU DID DIE BACK THEN, AN' I – " He gritted his teeth. Well, if it was going to come out any time, it had to be now. "GOL DANGIT, I GOT FEELIN'S FOR YA! THERE? YA HAPPY?"

Quentin looked back utterly gobsmacked. Then his brow furrowed. "YOU MEAN ALL THIS TIME I'D BEEN TRYING TO ATTRACT YOUR ATTENTION AND YOU KEPT RUNNING AWAY – "

"DON'T ACT LIKE YA DIDN'T WANT A CHASE!" Montana yelled back.

"THAT'S – " Quentin faltered. "THAT'S A VERY GOOD POINT. SO WHAT NOW? WE DIE AS LOVERS?"

The advent of a third voice: "Am I interrupting anything?"

Montana craned his neck up to see the mermaid crawling down toward his position. "WUYA! Got my hands full, so you're gonna hafta give us one!"

"Oh, trust me," she said. "Going up will ironically be much easier than going down."

She clambered down to Montana's position, then converted one of her magnets into a green whip, twirling it twice before snapping it. It curled around Montana's wrist, then snaked down, elongating to wrap up Quentin's waist.

With a smug cry of "GOING UP!", Wuya let go of the rock face with her other hand, which immediately turned toward the deep and blasted an immense thrust of emerald directly downward. She, Montana, and Quentin shot out of the chasm, riding her magical energy until they careened up over the edge and landed safely on the flat of the cliff above.

"HUZZAH!" Zevon cried joyously, throwing a fist in the air.

"Knew you could do it," Mozenrath muttered, not willing to admit that he'd been evading horrible memories of the great vampire disembowelment the entire time Wuya was down there.

There was a short reprieve in which the three who'd just escaped the quite literal jaws of doom caught their breaths. Then Montana peeled himself up, turning back to look at Quentin; "So we got some stuff ta – "

He was tackled, Quentin's arms locking around his waist, lips pressed to his own. And he should absolutely have seen that coming – the man wouldn't pass up an opportunity to be sudden and dramatic, nor to re-enact a film cliché as old as time – and he loved every second of it.

When Quentin finally let him go – too soon – the actor smirked at him, accusing, "So, this entire time, you fell prey to my charm and were THAT GOOD at keeping it hidden."

"Don't give yerself too much credit," Montana muttered. "Ya gotta look at it where I'm sittin'. I'm in a race for your affection against you yerself."

"And that's a problem?"

"No. No, it ain't."

Montana turned to get back to business, but Quentin wasn't done with him, catching his shoulder with a hand. "Montana."

The redhead turned to come face-to-face with Quentin looking all too vulnerable, the same way he'd looked back in the depths when his helmet had been ripped away, and he knew it wasn't going to last long, so he had to milk it for what it was worth: "Jackson."

"Wha – "

"Jackson Brice, and THAT DON'T LEAVE THIS PLACE."

"He knows we're still here and that we all heard that, right?" Gill asked.

"Just let them have a moment," Yzma sighed.

"Jackson," Quentin repeated, in slight awe. "…Thank you."

"It ain't – "

And then Mysterio took over again. "Though really, I could've diverted the current at any time. I just so happened to know THAT was the only way I could get you to confess."

"Sure it was, Be – Quentin."

"Are we DONE NOW?" Mozenrath yelled. "Because from where I'm standing, what we've learned is that the gem we're after is being guarded by a monster that currently threatens us with something worse than my necromancy can overcome, and WE HAVE NO WAY OF GETTING PAST IT!"

"Yet," Wuya corrected. "You're missing an all-important 'yet.'"

"We'll regroup," Shocker said. "Consider our options. Pool our resources."

"Eat our lunch!" said Zevon, who just wanted to participate.

"And before we go ANYWHERE…" Mysterio gestured around his head.

With a brief eyeroll, Mozenrath duplicated and replaced the diving-bell helmet.

"And the balance is restored," Mysterio declared.

"Let's go," Mozenrath demanded. "We're going to scour this ocean until we find an answer."

...

"Mr. Eraqus, you say?" Lord Portley-Rind mused. "You know, I haven't thought about that fellow since the incident. Odd chap."

"Incident?" Mickey asked. "What incident?"

Lord Portley-Rind, upon receiving guests, had known the Tasting Room was absolutely the best place to sit down and have a chat, and after all, he was being more lenient these days, so he set the compromise of inviting Mickey and Yen Sid to sit with him in the room of the elites – on the condition that Lord Portley-Rind was the only one allowed to eat anything, and Mickey's growling stomach really resented watching him delicately devour the white brie in front of him.

"It was back when my father was lord of the town," Portley-Rind explained. "Back before he handed his hat down to me in a fair and diplomatic process that was approved of by the people in full. Mr. Eraqus was a strange lad. A foreigner. He and I were peers, speaking in terms of age, and I introduced him to much of how this town works. He didn't like it, not one bit. Said my father was ruling unfairly and working with Darkness, which is perplexing because we've always worn white. Ah, how quickly he was ready to throw aside my companionship to start his rebellion in hopes of 'bettering the city.'"

"What did he take umbrage with?" Yen Sid asked.

"Well, at first, it was all about distribution of wealth," Portley-Rind recalled. "Something about the Cheese Guild not giving enough to repair…something or another."

(The distant sound of the collapse of a building long-ago abandoned because of that lack of donations was barely audible.)

"I must say, I found his ideas a little intriguing," Portley-Rind admitted. "Doesn't every youth wonder if perhaps his parents are in the wrong? I underwent a slight rebellious phase watching him from afar, as he rallied the people to lobby for change. Not enough to abandon my father's side of the battlefield, of course. That Mr. Eraqus, he seemed to think he was speaking for the poor. He wanted more wages – greedy chap, he was."

Mickey and Yen Sid exchanged a glance, knowing they couldn't say what they were thinking without horribly offending the man in front of them.

"But my father, upstanding man that he was, did NOT give in," Portley-Rind went on. "And once Mr. Eraqus saw how futile his little smear campaign was against our guild, he went COMPLETELY batty. It became his mission to overturn our guild no matter what, and there was really only one way he could reach us at such a low level as he was. He declared war on cheese."

"WHAT?" Mickey's jaw dropped. And the fact that he was still very hungry didn't make this sound any less dystopian.

"He went on to say that anyone who partook in cheese was a slave to our guild," Portley-Rind explained. "That they were enabling a corrupt system. That they were, oh, what was the word he used back then…'problematic.' Quite a stir went up after that. The city was completely divided. There were those who enjoyed cheese of their own volition, because it is a food of the gods, and even if they'd agreed with his ideals before, they turned on him. The others went right after those who still dined upon cheese. There was an uproar. Never got anywhere, of course. I still remember when the anonymous letter from that beautiful woman turned up on our doorstep saying that a town-wide ban on cheese was the best course that could be taken, because apparently some people can die from eating it. Die from eating cheese! Have you ever heard such nonsense? No one can possibly!"

"They could if they were allergic to it," Mickey suggested. "Wait. How'd ya know the letter was from a pretty lady if it was anonymous?"

"Well, it's all in the handwriting, you see," Portley-Rind answered. "Only a lady of exquisite breeding could possibly have produced such elegant script. Too bad it hid such venomous words. Anyway, back to Mr. Eraqus. He'd started a fire, is what he did, and fires eventually burn out. Once he'd had enough of the people waging war against each other, he finally sympathized with my father and I, saying he now saw what we had to deal with on a daily basis and why we would see fit to hoard money away from the people – which is ridiculous because that isn't what we did, but at the time, I agreed they did deserve it. He finally learned that the populace could not be controlled into their own greater good, which is why we had to make their decisions for them. Well, he delivered to me a full apology and recanted, then did some quick work to clean up his mess before taking leave of this town. I wonder what became of him after…" Portley-Rind shook his head. "But it's irrelevant. Left to their own devices, the people settled down. The beautiful anonymous woman who I never saw left a second letter recanting her own words, saying only those of weak constitution would be physically harmed by cheese and she now fully supported its status as the food of the elite."

"I see," Yen Sid mused. "Thank you, Lord Portley-Rind. Your story has told us much of what we need to know."

"Yeah!" Mickey nodded. "We – "

He was interrupted by his own stomach growing sonorously. "Eheh…sorry 'bout that…"

"What was the point of all this, anyhow?" Portley-Rind asked. "Are you in contact with him? I have been meaning to extend my hand to him in reconciliation – "

"That's…uh…not gonna work," Mickey said sheepishly. "Sorry, but we really, REALLY gotta go get some lunch!"

It was later over fondue in a café down the road that Mickey and Yen Sid discussed what they'd learned. "So Eraqus started out wanting to overthrow a bad system," Mickey realized, "but he started usin' the same kind of all-or-nothin' philosophies they did. When he didn't get anywhere against the ones in power, he started taking it out on whatever he could reach!"

"It was the only way he could feel as though he could do anything good in a world stacked against him," Yen Sid agreed. "And in doing so, he began to espouse the same principles that Lord Portley-Rind's father did: the idea that the people were unruly and needed to be guided by one with more power. All because he could not make a change."

"It's real sad," Mickey sighed. "I'd like ta think his tryin'a change things couldn't ever, ever be like what Portley-Rind's dad did…but…they sure were thinkin' along the same lines, in the end."

"Evils can always be measured, Mickey. Sometimes it is not a matter of good versus evil, but of a lesser evil over a greater. Those who do not think in absolutes know when the lesser evil is what must be accepted and when it must be rejected in all of its forms, as there is a time and a place for both scenarios."

They ate a few bites in silence. Then Mickey brought up: "Say, that anonymous lady Lord Portley-Rind mentioned. Didn't that sound an awful lot like – "

"I've no doubt it was," Yen Sid agreed.

...

They had found a lot of room to think. A lot of room to squirm about, to investigate the corners, to come across hidden places that held new discoveries.

These were old walls. They'd had plenty of time to mature. And yet beyond every passage, they found new discoveries. Wealth that looked like new: shining golden coins, gems of eons past.

Who was to say you couldn't find new value, new shimmer, in an old structure?

They were the one person who could traverse this place. Well, perhaps not the only person who ever existed, but this place was built for them! All the crannies too thin for a normal person to slip through, all the tight turns they could work around, all the cracks in the walls that led to new chambers with otherwise no entry and no exit!

That was how things so new could exist here. Because somebody hadn't thought to build pathways to possibilities. Well, they knew better now.

Was it the ruins they'd been snaking around for the past few days, or their own self?

That was why they hadn't wanted to leave. Not until they'd found everything they could find. Because it gave them time. Time to consider options, to wonder what was right and what was wrong and if they even needed to fall on one side or the other right now.

Villains, after all. That was all there needed to be said.

But now they were certain of a conclusion, and there seemed to be no more rooms left to investigate. Poetic. One more sweep of all the main passageways, to ensure there were no cracks left uninvestigated, and then they would leave.

Though to be fair, they hadn't taken all the shiny objects they'd come across. There was still a lot of that. It somehow just felt empty to be taking it all for themself.

Voices echoed down the ancient corridors. They had visitors! And a familiar one, from the sounds of it! Ah, how they had hoped to hear that voice – or the voice of one other, but they were sure that would come in time.

They planned an ambush, sneaking along one of the ventilation gutters, peering out over the foyer where Harley, Yang, Giovanni, Rokurou, and the Banzai Blaster squad were filtering into the Yvolg Ruins.

"YO, RAAAAAG-SYYYYYY!" Harley called out as she led the troop. "You in here?"

"I don't like this place, man!" Dark Star whimpered, hiding behind Spike. "It's way too totally creepy in here!"

"Eh, it just bores me," Rokurou said with a shrug.

They crept up behind the group. Closer, closer…then lunged.

Harley shrieked as she was tackled from behind, knocked onto her front as a familiar voice cried out "BOO!"

As Harley and Ragdoll hit the floor, Harley chuckled; "Boy, I shoulda seen that comin'. So how's it hangin'?"

"Oh, as well as it can here in this alternate dimension," Ragdoll said, getting up to dust themself off and crack a few joints for drama's sake. "Which I'm assuming is some sort of dream, given the lack of laws of concrete physics."

"Got it in one," Harley related, standing on her own two feet.

"So who is this guy, anyway?" Yang asked. "I remember him from Mom's camp, but otherwise…"

"Aw, Ragsy?" Harley replied. "Or 'Peter,' I guess. He's a pal, same place I know Gar from – "

Ragdoll cleared their throat. "For the moment, just 'Ragdoll' will suffice. And 'They're a pal.' Continue."

Harley began to speak. Realized what she'd been told. Stopped. Gasped. Threw her arms back around Ragdoll. "CONGRATULATIONS! OH MY GOSH, I'M SO HAPPY YA FIGURED THAT OUT! Y'know, it kinda makes sense now, don't it?"

"I'm not opposed to the occasional 'he,' mind you," Ragdoll corrected. "After all, I've answered to it for a while. And it's not entirely unfitting. Just not accurately descriptive."

Harley squeezed them tighter, and they returned the gesture. "You just sock me one in the jaw if I mess it up, mmkay?"

"Well, hey!" Rokurou realized. "We found her friend, AND they had a coming-out moment. All's well that ends well, right?"

Giovanni just gave a noncommittal "Hm."

"Something wrong?" Rokurou asked.

"It's just…" Giovanni sighed. "Like, this is the last priority I should have right now, and I'm always happy when somebody figures out their identity, but I thought this was gonna be an adventure like we had all the other times, not that we'd just find 'em right away. You said there was loot in this place, and they probably cleaned it up before we got here and we gotta go do crime somewhere else!" Another sigh. "I'm just whining at this point, though."

"Oh, I never said I'd taken all the loot," Ragdoll clarified. "After all, it seemed a rather hollow victory. Too easy. Perhaps it was a bit of foresight. I am, after all, quite canny about such things…"

"THERE'S STILL STUFF TO STEAL HERE?" Giovanni's eyes lit up.

"You didn't think I wouldn't leave ANYTHING for an enterprising young fellow as yourself, did you?" Ragdoll teased. "Though there is one little catch. Most of the rooms are inaccessible if you aren't me. No doors, no windows, just passages seemingly built for contortionists."

"But are the walls breakable?" Yang asked.

"I suppose they're as breakable as any walls," Ragdoll mused. "Why?"

"Because I think we can bring this place to its knees with a Double Crit Explosion Extraordinaire." Yang winked at Giovanni.

The nearest wall came down with a war cry from the both of them, and Ragdoll applauded; "Ooh, that is a nifty little trick! Though I'd remind you to maintain the structural integrity of the building."

"Structural integrity schmuctural shmintegrity." Giovanni waved it off.

"I definitely know what all those words mean," Rokurou piped in.

"Just…don't break the buildin'," Harley sighed. "Now let's get ta lootin'!"

...

Mozenrath, Wuya, Yzma, Zevon, Gill, Shocker, and Mysterio took their reprieve in the closest district of the kingdom proper that they could find. It was a market, with booths that sold low-tech trinkets made of seashell in the most ingenious ways, such as a shell-coated pen that ejected squid ink. Sea creatures of all sorts bobbed and floated around, browsing the wares. The central square of this district was taken up by a rather gaudy statue of a merman, hoisted up so that you had to look at the skinny, long-haired subject of the sculpture until you decided to move to a higher-end place.

"You know, I don't know about you," Wuya said as they swam their way through the streets, "but I'm seeing opportunities here. Are our aesthetics really ocean-core enough?"

"No," Yzma replied. "No, they're not. I say we remedy that immediately. And since it's just you and me…perhaps I'll even take you up on some of that caretaking for those completely preventable incidents in the jungle."

They broke away from the group, arms around each other's waists, as Mozenrath pulled the rest into a side street to discuss the next step.

"And so we find our path blocked," he reiterated. "The way I see it, there are two ways we can go about this. Number one: kill the Morphlacc. Zevon, you didn't happen to pick up any information on how to do that in the Numerian chamber where you learned about it, did you?"

"No," Zevon answered. "Unfortunefully, no fatalistical blow informationism."

"It was too much to hope," Mozenrath sighed.

"An' if we bring around ol' Huntsy just fer this one?" Shocker asked. "Ya think he could figure out a way ta clear the path?"

"I don't wanna say the Huntsman couldn't take on anything and everything he so desired…" Mozenrath began. Then trailed off.

"Well?" Mysterio urged.

"I just told you what it was I DIDN'T want to say," Mozenrath reminded him.

Not that he didn't have faith in the Huntsman's general ability, but this was something beyond a dragon that kept its whole body where you could see it and would kill you instantly if it ingested you.

"Now, the other route, of course," Mozenrath went on, "is to find an alternate entry to the abyss. That, or a way to circumvent the pull of the undertow. What we'd want in that case is an expert in stealth and strategy. Someone who thinks like a thief and knows how to bypass…unconventional security." He first shot a glance in Shocker's direction.

"Don't look at me," Shocker urged. "Without my weapons, I'm just a cool head an' a bit a' backup muscle. An' we all know I can't use 'em down here."

Mozenrath's eyes slid over to Mysterio, who argued, "My speciality is DIVERSION! Which requires people that are easy to fool, not a giant worm that sucks up everything you could possibly use to distract it!"

"Before you even ask." Gill put up a webbed hand. "I grew up scrapping together what I could from the out-of-season camps. You want ME to do anything about this? You better give me time to scavenge first and hope I find what I'm looking for, and in this case, I don't even know what that is yet!"

"Now, the idea of bringing in a little…guest party member isn't off the table," Mozenrath went on. "We surely have many thieves and otherwise stealth experts twiddling their thumbs back at base. That said, once again, we're at a distinct disadvantage for two reasons. One being the novelty of the situation, and the other being that anyone we bring in who's used to working on two legs has to now repurpose their entire mode of operation to an aquatic-based one."

"See, that's why I was so easily caught up in the whirlpool," Mysterio broke in. "Because I'm not used to SWIMMING – "

"We get it," Gill huffed.

"The closest I'm thinking is if we brought Liquidator on board," Mozenrath mused. "He could easily seep through the monster's jaws even if he was swallowed. But then how does that do anything for the rest of us? Do we trust him to root out that gem alone? Could he even do that without losing his form in the ocean? I certainly wouldn't want his consciousness to dissipate across miles' worth of water thanks to an errant current. No…it's almost as if we need a thief who's used to this territory. Perhaps it's time for another impromptu recruitment – "

His attention was suddenly grabbed by Yzma and Wuya careening back to rejoin the group, both of them looking as though they'd just seen a ghost.

"Er…Mozenrath?" Yzma began, barely able to focus. "We…ah…we've just found something INTERESTING."

"Not sure what it means," Wuya added, "but we thought you'd want to know about it all the same."

"Unless it's a thief who is excellent at circumventing obstacles AND used to the lay of the land in Atlantica," Mozenrath told them, "I'd rather not."

They exchanged a glance before Wuya said, "Funny you should use those exact words."

That was why Mozenrath and the others agreed to follow them into the central square, where Yzma gestured toward the gaudy merman statue: "VOILA!"

"You know, Yzma…" Mozenrath shut his eyes and shook his head. "I didn't think I'd need to clarify that the person I'm looking for should be living, breathing, and not made of stone, but then again, I should know by now never to underestimate any of you – "

"Look at it, Mozenrath," Wuya interrupted bluntly.

"Fiiiiine." Mozenrath swam over to read the caption on the pedestal. No name. Merely "In Memory of Our Lost Prince."

He rolled his eyes. "Wonderful. Isn't there always a lost royal of something or another? This is the same cliché I've seen in a thousand worlds."

"OH, for the love of – " Yzma seized Mozenrath's head and tilted it upward. "Look UP!"

So Mozenrath did, right at the face of the long-haired merman. "I have no idea what I'm looking at."

"Right," Wuya realized. "Prosopagnosia. Zevon, come over here and tell him what he's supposed to be looking at."

"I'm not entirely certain, myself," Zevon said as he paddled over. "All in all, it just looks like another mermHOW IS THAT EVEN A POSSIBILITATION?"

He'd stopped still, gaping up at the merman statue, pointing shakily.

"CAN SOMEONE EXPLAIN THIS TO ME?" Mozenrath yelled.

"Imagine it with a mullet," Wuya told him.

"How is THAT going to – "

And then it clicked. Mostly because Wuya would only have mentioned a mullet if he was supposed to be thinking of someone who wore their hair in one. And now that he was thinking about it, everything else seemed to fit, physically speaking, save for the tail.

"No. NO!"

They hadn't seen a ghost. What they'd seen was a traitor.

That statue was definitely a merfolk version of Demyx.

"HOW – WHY – " Mozenrath sputtered. Then forced himself to breathe. "I suppose this shouldn't be TOO surprising. After all, he had to come from SOMEWHERE before he was one of Xehanort's flunkies. All the same…" His brow furrowed. "How is this supposed to help us? You've managed to find us a thief who knows Atlantica inside and out, is skilled at getting into impossible situations, AND WANTS NOTHING MORE THAN TO SEE US ALL MASS-MURDERED."

"Look, you told us you'd come to see it if we found you a thief in Atlantica!" Yzma protested. "You never said ANYTHING about that person having loyalty to us, and we wanted you to see this anyway and it was the only way to get you to come!"

"…You know, I walked right into that," Mozenrath realized.

"Swam," Gill corrected.

"So ya had a fallin'-out with this fella," Shocker mused, "but he's exactly what we need. Don't s'pose there's any way ta repair things."

"Oh, don't worry," Mozenrath said snidely. "All we have to do is apologize to him, and he definitely won't use his manipulative tactics and control over the ocean itself to drive us to a watery grave."

"What'd y'all do to him?" Shocker asked.

"It's more like what we didn't do to him," Wuya replied. "Though in my defense, I tried to make it very clear that he was still one of ours no matter how much of a nincompoop he was and how much he deserved our condescension."

"And in my defense…" Yzma attempted. And had nothing to say to finish that sentence. And still had nothing to say to finish that sentence.

Shocker groaned. "So y'all just let a powerful an' dangerous fella like that get treated like scum and DIDN'T think it'd come back to bite ya?"

The amount of blank stares that met him assured him there was no good way to proceed down this train of thought.

"Wait a second," Zevon realized. "Hear me out, but…"

His mind was still spinning with the knowledge he'd rather accidentally picked up in Numeria, and he was realizing where it actually had real-life applications. So, irrational as it sounded, he was going to suggest the method that had been on his mind: "What about time travel?"

"What about it?" Yzma asked. "No, really, what does that have to do with anything?"

"We could rewind to when we found him," Zevon proposed. "Divergify a new timeline where we make sure he stays on our side. Then make him circumventilate the Morphlacc!"

"And we've somehow gone from trying to reinstate a traitor to destroying the known multiverse," Mozenrath groaned. "Zevon, time travel doesn't WORK like that. It only goes two ways: transformative and paradoxical. If, through some miracle, we managed to get a transformative timeline, then there's no telling how ELSE the Butterfly Effect could change our timeline besides putting Demyx on our team. We could end up in the alternate dimension where Ourobouros, God of Destruction, has inverted our entire multiverse for kicks. Or we could end up in one where we've all redeemed into heroes! Or one where Yzma is now a school principal, Mysterio is an engineer who hates the arts, and Gill just vanished into obscurity after two heists!

"And that's if we're LUCKY. If we're not lucky, what we'll end up doing is changing something immutable, and we all get destroyed ON THE SPOT. Entire realities have self-destructed because of people going back in time and meeting themselves. That's all it takes, and suddenly a universe is SWALLOWED. That's why the safest method of time travel involves discarding one's physical form. Anything else is an incredible risk. And I'm not ejecting myself out of my own body on the off chance that one of the THOUSAND OTHER CHANCES FOR PARADOX won't happen!"

"But wait," Zevon remembered. "That's not the only two types of time travel. There's two more. Divergificent and fulfillering."

"Come again?"

"You know," Zevon urged. "Divergificent and fulfillering. I read about them in Numeria. Only the names, but that's two more types than YOU knew."

"Are you trying to say the words…'divergent' and 'fulfilling'?" Mozenrath asked.

"Those WERE the words I was saying!" Zevon argued.

"Actually, I knew about divergent timelines," Wuya realized. "And fulfilling ones."

"THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING?" Mozenrath yelled. "WHAT DO THOSE EVEN MEAN, ANYWAY?"

"Well, if I had to guess…" Wuya shrugged. "A divergent timeline would be like when Omi used the Sands of Time to try and make Chase Young into a good person. First he ended up causing a timeline where Jack Spicer finally, FINALLY managed to take over the world, THEN made one where he swapped out Chase's backstory for Master Monk Guan, THEN caused a paradox that brought it all back to exactly the way it was before. Now, our consciousnesses are still in the final timeline he made, but presumably, world-conquering Jack and goody-two-shoes Chase are still alive in the multiverse somewhere depending on what dimensional wall you happen to break. For all intents and purposes, they don't exist, except they do. How do I even know about this, you ask, if it all got reset? Don't ask me; I think it's a witch thing. Anyway, a fulfilling timeline would be when you travel back in time and without even taking any care to make it that way, time just…fixes it so what you do in the past is what you were supposed to do all along to get this future. Like when Omi traveled back in time to get a new puzzle box to trap me, I thought he'd be stranded in the past for good, and then it turned out he cryogenically froze himself to pick up right where he left off and I guess there was just always a time in the past where Omi showed up and got a new box from Dashi and this is how history works now."

"WONDERFUL!" Zevon crowed. "Now say that again in laypersonman's terms, because I don't think Gill understood it!"

"Divergent means the future changes, but not for US," Wuya told him. "Fulfilling means we go back in time and it changes literally nothing about anything."

"So…we'd want a divergent timeline," Mozenrath figured. "That's if we were going anywhere with this moronic plan. Ideally, we'd want to rip a new Demyx out of the past, but NOT change anything about our current timeline, including the presence of the old one on the Overtakers. Seems like a win-win, am I right? Now let's get to the LOSE part of the equation." He took out the compass and said quite mockingly, "Show us where in this underwater kingdom we're going to find the exact time-travel device to give us a divergent timeline that doesn't change our own!"

And the compass pointed a definite direction without spinning.

After some silence, Mozenrath realized, "That's…not the point I intended to prove at all."

"But it means yer dumb time-travel plan's gonna work," Shocker reminded him.

"It's ZEVON'S dumb time-travel plan," Mozenrath corrected. "All the same…yes. Yes, it will."

"So?" Yzma put out her arms in a shrug. "Are we doing this?"

"Not unless we have every failsafe covered," Mozenrath insisted. "If we're going to do this, then we need to make sure we block off EVERY turn for him to betray us again. Now and in future. Strangely, the future part will be easier. We just have to make sure to catch and release."

"I see," Wuya realized. "After all, he never WANTED to be one of us."

"So we draft him for the job," Mozenrath continued, "pay him handsomely, and then, once we have the gem, send him on his merry way to do whatever he wants and make SURE he's never bothered. Now, as for making sure he does this job…that's where it's going to get tricky. We could use the time-travel method, so long as we have it, to do a little snooping around in his Organization days. Conduct recon, if you will. Set up observations in order to determine his exact psychology. What he wants, what he doesn't, and how to play to his exacting specifications."

"That," Wuya said, "or we could just ask somebody who was there with him that whole time and really good at observation."

"Where are we going to find someone like that?" Yzma asked.

"Oh, gee, I don't know," Wuya said snidely. "It's too bad we never recruited any other ex-Organization members into our fold. That would just work too conveniently, wouldn't it?"

And still, everyone just looked confused.

"IT'S VEXEN," Wuya insisted. "WE JUST ASK VEXEN HOW HE WORKS."

This was met with a communal "Ohhhhhh."

"In that case…" Mozenrath's shoulders slumped. "I guess. We're going. Back in time. To re-recruit. A traitor. FOR ONE MISSION."

Sensing that such an attitude would bring down team morale, Mysterio zoomed right out in front of Mozenrath, raised a fist, and yelled quite enthusiastically, "TIME HEIST!"

"TIME HEIST!" Yzma, Zevon, and Gill yelled right back.

...

Roman had wanted to bring back ramen doggy bags for the others after the Qrow scouting mission. Mim had wanted to actively refuse to do so and laugh when the others saw they hadn't taken care of food. Vexen agreed with Roman that bringing back communal food was probably the sensible thing to do, but also with Mim that he didn't really want to exert the energy thinking of other people. So they reached a compromise in which Roman brought back food for Snatcher, Neo, the Huntsman, and literally no one else.

Hannibal, Drakken, Zorg, and Kokichi had to venture off campus to find their own dinner. (Zorg had contemplated putting Kokichi on a child leash. Kokichi had suggested other items of bondage to be placed on him, with liberal use of the word "Daddy." He ended up not being leashed.) That left Roman, Snatcher, Mim, the Huntsman, Vexen, and Neo to regroup in the headmaster's office, with three munching away at portable ramen bowls and the other three already sated.

"I was hoping to wait until the rest were assembled," the Huntsman admitted as he tore into his beef shoyu, "but if Roman has seen fit to play favorites, than so shall I."

"So shall WE, Mr. Liu," Snatcher corrected. His bowl of tonkotsu ramen had been advertised by Roman as "kinda milky without having any milk in it," and so far it was living up wonderfully. "While you were all out on your reconnaissance, Mr. Liu and I made a quite startling discovery right here in our home territory."

Neo perked up at hearing this. Her ramen was three half-size orders: pale shio, reddish miso, and curry ramen that went heavy on the turmeric to create a dark brown.

"Hit me!" Roman bade them, leaning back against the wall where he sat cross-legged on the floor.

"I had thought for a while to look into the matter of the Grimm," the Huntsman began. "Though their primary loyalty is to Salem, they are, at heart, wild creatures we could attempt to capture and use for our own purposes."

"Sort of a biological stratagem," Snatcher added. "Much like the Unversed."

"I thought the Unversed didn't go well for you," Roman brought up.

"Mr. Liu," Snatcher said hurriedly, "please DO explain what we found."

"It went catastrophically," Mim explained. "I'd love to do it again!"

"Grimm, as it turns out, have more abilities than raw strength," the Huntsman revealed. "They can carry with them a host of effects, such as – "

"Uh, yeah, I was based out of an HQ on the bank of Grimm Lake," Roman reminded him. "I know this shit."

"SOME of us don't!" Vexen snapped. Then, realizing what he'd implied: "Such as Mim, of course. Only Mim, truly."

"I know how Grimm work," Mim said, and it was uncertain whether she actually did or was just making things up to spite Vexen.

"It would perhaps be of use to us to utilize one of the more unique varieties," the Huntsman went on. "To rein in a large, strong creature comes with multiple challenges. However, there may be something more accessible we could use to turn on Salem's forces. Perhaps even Salem herself. Some species, it seems, are almost cannibalistic in how they turn on one another. Especially those who show the slightest hint of anything resembling Aura. To that end, I – "

They were all interrupted by a Corridor forming in the room, right behind Vexen. Mozenrath leaned out of it, grabbed Vexen by the forearm, yelled "BORROWING THIS!", and yanked the icy scientist right over to his side before he could protest. The portal closed as if it were never there.

After some silence, the Huntsman sighed; "Whatever he wants, it's best we leave him to it."

"I feel like he needed a break from Cockmouth anyway," Roman added with a nod. No one had to ask who "Cockmouth" was.

"What we've found," Snatcher continued, eager to beat the Huntsman to the dramatic reveal, "is a most peculiar breed of monster, one that might give us an invaluable edge." He slid a book off the late Lionheart's desk, opening it up to the page he and the Huntsman had marked. "Behold! One such creature known as the 'Apathy'! A rare breed, its existence even disputed by many, and yet – "

Before he could even blink, Roman was in front of him, swatting the book out of his hands aggressively so that it thudded to the carpet.

"…I certainly don't see how THAT was necessary," Snatcher said, looking at Roman with immense confusion. Confusion that was slowly clarifying as he scanned Roman's expression, reading the sheer and utter terror that flashed across it for half a second.

No. Telling him about the memories of being swallowed was already too large of a step, too recently. There was a story here, but Roman wasn't about to let him, let any of them know what it was, not now. Hopefully not ever. That was a secret that would die with him no matter how many times he needed to die.

So he feinted. Forced out the most condescending laugh he could possibly muster, covering up his reaction in false cockiness; "Oh, I thought for a minute you were gonna say something USEFUL, not the most dumbass thing I've ever heard in my fucking life!"

Any suspicions Snatcher had been working on were suddenly quenched by the utter outrage he felt at being addressed thusly. "I'd at least thought you could turn down that suggestion with the respect I deserve!" he growled.

"Respect you deserve?" Roman knew he was going too far, too fast, but if he relented even a little, he would end up giving the game away. Already he was hiding a shaking hand behind his back. "Well, most of the time, MAYBE, but seriously, Archie, I thought you were smarter than to go chasing Apathy. And that goes double for Dragonface. Apathy? Seriously? We tried with those things back at Salem HQ. They're fucking useless. All they do is shamble around and friendly-fire each other unless you have none left. You really wanna retread that time Scorpion Fuckface tried to mobilize an infantry of them and ended up eating crow? The bird, not the Huntsman we've been tailing all day."

"We may be able to utilize them in a way that your former cohorts could not," the Huntsman urged. "After all, we are rather in the business of doing what others don't expect us to be able to accomplish."

"You think I can't outdo Mr. Callows by a million and more?" Snatcher posed.

"Oh, Archie…" Roman forced himself to look absolutely cavalier. He overshot. "I mean, Dragonface could MAYBE get somewhere, but he's a trained Huntsman. You? You'd fucking die before you got within two steps of an Apathy."

"NOW, I RESENT THAT!" Snatcher was at full height, staring down Roman with eyes like embers. "I've come as far as any of you as a warrior type on this venture, and – "

"Oh, sure, your defense stat is maxed," Roman retorted, "but you think you could actually attack one of those things without me to babysit? Which I'm not doing because this is the most fucking moronic thing I've ever been suggested in my life."

Neo watched it all nervously, unsure what to do. Because it seemed to her that at this point, they could really avoid a lot of unnecessary complication by just telling the truth. But she was loyal to Roman first and foremost, and he'd already made the decision, so she wasn't allowed to undermine him.

"HOW DARE YOU DOUBT MY CAPACITY TO HOLD MY OWN!" Snatcher yelled.

"And how dare YOU insult me by not just accepting that I'm the Grimm expert here, and YOU'RE FUCKING NOT!" Roman yelled.

"I feel like I should be enjoying this," Mim whispered to Neo, "but really, it's rather uncomfortable."

Neo couldn't answer. Not while she was loyal to Roman.

"I THOUGHT YOU'D THOUGHT BETTER OF ME!" Snatcher accused. "Are you telling me all your approval of my current position was MISPLACED? A false fostering of confidence?"

"Look." Roman realized he had to backpedal. "It's not like that."

"Then how are you not trusting me to get near the weakest, most incompetent of the Grimm?"

"Because I don't, okay?" Roman snapped. "I just don't! Now DROP IT and don't bring it the fuck up again!"

"Roman," the Huntsman attempted. "You SEVERELY underestimate – "

Roman had already turned to stalk out of the room wordlessly.

"Roman!" the Huntsman barked. "Return at once!"

Snatcher was actually chasing after him; "ROMAN!"

Roman outpaced him, making it briskly into the classroom down the hall they'd repurposed into a bedroom for their stay. The door shut behind him. Snatcher grasped the handle to find it locked; he'd been exiled for the night.

"ROMAN, DON'T YOU KEEP ME OUT OF MY OWN DOMICILE!" Snatcher yelled at him, banging on the door.

And no response came.

Well. There wasn't much he could do if Roman wasn't even going to answer back. He stormed back to the headmaster's office, crossing paths with Neo and Mim on the way.

"I excused them on the grounds that we'd dropped the idea altogether and there was no need for them to linger," the Huntsman said once Snatcher had returned. "It seems you and I have things to discuss."

"We're not giving up on our plot," Snatcher urged. "If only out of SPITE at this point."

"I know," the Huntsman agreed. "It was a lie. I'm not fond of having my own intelligence and competence insulted, either. If any ears should pry, we're discussing an alternative. In reality…we're discussing how we can capture several Apathy outside of our companions' knowledge."

"I see, I see." Snatcher nodded, smirking. "Presumably to make a dramatical reveal once we've got them under control, proving our handle on the situation?"

"Precisely."

"Then what've we got to do?"

"I still believe the sighting spot near Argus is our likeliest bet," the Huntsman said. "All we've got to do is divert Roman's attention – and Neopolitan's – until such time as we can get there and back. I suggest you make as though you've forgiven him for his outburst, and have dropped the idea altogether."

"I quite like the way you're thinking, Mr. Liu." Snatcher's grin was even wickeder.

If only they could have known that Roman was not pacing the room angrily, nor was he forcing himself to sleep and recounting the conversation with mounting rage. Instead, within the confines of the classroom, he sat on the floor, drawing his knees up close as he leaned against the door. Breath ragged. Feeling as though he was drowning all over again.