A/N: You're gonna need to know two songs for this one. One is "Yzmopolis" from The Emperor's New School, naturally. The other is "The Greatest Show" from The Greatest Showman. Also, I'm instilling a new rule! Up until now, I've only had characters swear if their source media allows them to do so properly (with some exceptions here and there), but now everybody, EVERYBODY gets a free pass to say "Hell" because it is a literal place we are going to be discussing a lot.

...

While every island of the Mystic Isles was aloft, supported by clouds, the Isle of Protectors was truly made of cloud, magically reinforced to be soft yet sturdy ground. Here, the Hall of Protectors stood: an immense castle of crystal, shimmering blue-violet in the sunlight. It tended to be baby blue at dawn and lavender at sunset.

Here, in the spacious meeting room, the central council gathered. The mermaid Nerissa was absent, of course, keeping to a water-based territory. That left the giant Garish, the elf Galial, the faun Turon, the fairy Chrysta, and the leaders of the council, Orion and Vega. The latter two were Windwalkers: human in appearance, but gifted with great feathery wings that allowed them the power of flight.

Today, they convened over a very serious matter indeed: Prisma's power grab on the Isle of Crystals.

"I thought it would be worse, to be honest," Garish said, shaking his head so his long, dark locks waved. "She toyed with us for a while…then vanished off the map. I was expecting a full-scale takeover."

Chrysta snorted, holding her short and slender flame aloft on translucent wings, taking a leaning position in midair and tossing her dark braid. "What do you think she's prepping for now? You can't seriously think she's just done! That takeover's coming. I can feel it!"

"We cannot make assumptions either way, Chrysta." Vega's stare was piercing as ever. She rarely smiled, and this situation had her lips turned even more dramatically downward.

"But what should we do?" asked Turon, his salmon-pink body shuddering as he clutched his wooden staff for stability. "We haven't been able to locate her. She could be anywhere, plotting anything!"

"I wonder if she's even managed to…" Galial, who was several shades brighter pink than Turon paused. Then, very quietly, she said, "Exploit the multi-world situation."

"There is not much we can do outside of monitoring the Isles." This came from Orion, the group's level head, broad-shouldered and kind-eyed. "Search thoroughly. Then…if she is not found shortly…we will proceed to look to the Everrealm."

"I disagree, Orion," Vega said. "We need to start looking to the Everrealm now."

"We don't have the forces for that!" Turon argued.

"Unless everyone took double duty," Galial mused.

"Maybe this means it's time to start looking for Protectors from the Everrealm," Garish suggested. "The events of the Everrealm and the Mystic Isles are beginning to overlap. It hardly makes sense to keep them so separate anymore."

"Because THAT'S a good idea," Chrysta snorted. "Why don't we just let all the humans down below know there's infinite magic up here? They DEFINITELY won't come in droves looking to steal everything we have!"

"CHRYSTA," Vega snapped. "This is no time for your sarcasm."

"I'm the only one here being realistic!" Chrysta spat back. "We're not gonna get through this by just hoping for the best! And if you ask me, we DO need to be keeping an eye on the Everrealm, WITHOUT letting them know we're up here."

"Giving our forces that much to search and observe may cause them to miss important details," Orion said calmly. "Prisma will likely not act if she is hiding in the Everrealm. Her goal has always been the magic of the Mystic Isles. We can almost assure that if she is not in this archipelago, she is lying low. It would be safe and more productive to search the Isles first."

"If the other Protectors can't handle it, then make them double down!" Chrysta urged. "You're telling me they can either search fast OR they can search well? Whatever happened to working hard and making sure you got your job done fast AND right?"

"Chrysta," Orion warned. "I am aware you hold yourself to a high standard. But your obsession with perfection may one day harm you even more than anyone else."

"Please," Chrysta scoffed, rolling her eyes. "This is a serious situation! Prisma needs to be found NOW. And she's not gonna be easy to find, either! Unless you think she's just gonna waltz in here and show herself to us."

There came the click of high heels, accompanied by many other footsteps. Then an "EH-AHEM."

The Protectors turned, startled, to see before them Yzma, backed up by Wuya, Mera, Morgana, Indus, Cloak, Dagger, Undertow, the Lobster Mobster, Shrimp, and the very Prisma they'd just been talking about.

"Hello!" Prisma waved cheerfully.

Every Protector was soon on their feet. "What is the meaning of this?" Orion barked.

"How…" Vega gestured toward Undertow, Cloak, and Dagger, who were literally swimming through the air. Then to Morgana, who slithered along on tentacles, but with a certain lightness to her, as though she could take off and start swimming in air at any moment. "How was this achieved?"

"That's the first question you're going with?" Yzma sighed. "I may have, ah…borrowed a certain spell from a petulant sorcerer who invented it by making the most annoying eel known to mortal and immortal kind."

"And I may have borrowed THIS to help out with it." Morgana leered as she aimed the trident at the council.

"The trident of Triton!" Vega gasped. "Prisma – how?"

"Well, it was easy, actually," Prisma replied. "One of Triton's daughters is kind of stupid. But you see what this means, don't you?"

"I'd say take stock of your odds before you try anything funny." Mera crossed her arms. "Because Prisma's Terra Crystal, which sucks up and redistributes magic, plus the trident, which is an infinite fountain of magic…doesn't look good for you, does it?"

"What do you want?" Galial asked. "What is the reason for all of this?"

Chrysta leapt out front, taking a battle pose. She reached for her enchantlet – the weapon all Protectors wore, taking the form of a winged emblem that ejected a magical rope with a multitool purpose. "I don't care why you're here," she seethed. "We're gonna take you down no matter how many magic crystals you have!"

"Technically, we came here to talk," Wuya said. "Or send a message, at any rate. Tell them the good news, honey."

Yzma spread her arms, holding them high. "This is an announcement to all the Mystic Isles!" she declared. "So pay attention!"

Indus had, up until that moment, carried an entire piano made of crystal on his shoulder. Knowing his cue (that they'd had to rehearse several times), he set it down on the floor. The Lobster Mobster jumped up onto the keys, playing a soft intro tune by dancing over the ebony and ivory with his many pointed feet.

"Welcome to my city!" Yzma sang soulfully. "Welcome to my land! Welcome to the empire that only I command!"

The music kicked into high gear, with the Lobster Mobster dancing faster, and Prisma waved her Terra Crystal. The wardrobes of Yzma and all her cohorts transformed into flashy gowns and suits, studded with tiny crystals that acted as sequins. And they began to dance in unison, another perfectly-rehearsed production.

"Yzmopolis, my metropolis!" Yzma belted, wearing the most gaudy gown of them all in a deep plum color. "My favorite place to be! Yzmopolis, my metropolis: where it's all for one and that one is me! From Yzma Boulevard to Yzma Avenue, all landmarks and roads and parks are named for me, not you!"

Already the Protectors had enough of this. They rushed at the WHAM ARMY contingent – who was ready for them.

"You know," Yzma related as Undertow chased Chrysta around the room, with the Lobster Mobster snapping at her wings every time she passed the piano. "Until I came along, this was just a one-llama kingdom!"

Garish's enchantlet lashed out, and Morgana deflected it in spades with the trident.

"But NOW! It's Yzmopolis, my metropolis!" Mera had conjured up a spear of glass with her Fragile power, using it to parry Turon's staff.

"Where I rule over all!" Wuya and Vega met in midair to trade blows.

"Yzmopolis, my metropolis!" Yzma retrieved her hammer, swinging it hard at Orion to keep him at bay. "Now welcome to my hall!"

And everyone on her team who wasn't Yzma let out a cheer of "Y-Z-M-A! YZMA, YZMA! HOO-RAY!"

"Yzmopolis, my metropolis!" Yzma continued to sing, as she also continued to swing, knocking the whip of Orion's enchantlet out of the way. "A wondrous place to be!"

Morgana fired a blast to Prisma, who declared "IT'S GLORIOUS!" as she converted the magic into a solid crystal that encased Galial.

"VICTORIOUS!" Mera crowed as she conjured mirror shards to surround Turon, leaving him no way to escape without slicing himself a fatal wound.

"We always laugh UPROARIOUS!" Morgana laughed (uproariously indeed) as she blasted Garish across the room, and he fell unconscious after hitting the wall.

Wuya, who had been conjured a sparkling three-piece suit and bow tie of lavender, managed to kick Vega back long enough to flip down to Yzma's side. She took Yzma's hand, giving her a flamboyant twirl and singing out, "'Cause life is so euphorious!"

"And here is what you'll see!" Yzma declared.

When Orion and Vega realized what they were up against, they changed their tactic, evading instead of proceeding. Chrysta immediately followed suit, even though she still had a shark after her. Because –

"Yzma movies, starring me!" Yzma yelled. Wuya conjured a projector whose light filled an entire crystal wall, showing a montage of Yzma's most graceful moments. And at the same time, Prisma and Morgana collaborated to encase Turon in crystal.

"My name in lights on the Yzmarquee!" Yzma cried. Wuya put up a great sign of blinking lights that spelled "YZMA" in blinding neon purple. And Prisma, Morgana, and Mera gathered to freeze Garish in a prison of crystal and glass.

"Yzma books and magazines!" Yzma declared; Wuya conjured ornate bookshelves bearing leather-covered volumes that all seemed to be about Yzma in some way, from biographies to cookbooks of her favorite non-spinach-puff recipes. And Prisma and Morgana created an enormous crystal to go with it.

"Yzma shirts!" Yzma proclaimed, and Indus' jacket and button-down were swapped for a purple tee with Yzma's visage stretched across Indus' massive chest. "Yzma jeans!" He now had sparkling, rhinestone-studded purple denim pants to go with it.

Mera pumped the huge crystal full of Fragile, and it split into shards, blazing with magic, that chased Orion and Vega around the room.

"Yzma chocolate!" Yzma held up a purple heart-shaped box tied with far too many ribbons and bows. "Yzma mints!" A glass bowl of peppermints with purple stripes.

Indus began putting up Barriers, making a veritable labyrinth for Orion, Vega, and Chrysta to navigate as Morgana and Prisma kept the crystals chasing them, Terra Crystal and trident waving like conductors' staffs.

"Yzma shampoo and the rinse!" Wuya put fountains on the wall, of Yzma's face dribbling from the mouth a thick purple liquid that was presumably shampoo.

Mera and Prisma collaborated, making arrows of crystal and glass that added themselves to the barrage of ammunition.

"All the dogs are Yz-Maltese!" Yzma twirled. "And life is just an Yzma breeze! Hear me chat on the radio on Yzma FM!"

The labyrinth and surge of sharp objects had become a little much for Undertow to navigate, so when Wuya conjured the old-fashioned radio and put him behind the DJ's table, it was a relief. (Even if having a shark's body sitting human-style in a chair was counterintuitive.) "Yzmopolis, her metropolis!" Undertow laughed, his voice filtered through the radio. "With news and sports…whatever!"

He nodded over to Indus, the reporter in the field, with a crystal microphone. He gestured back to the frenetic chase scene; "Yzma traffic's all backed up! And now, a look at weather!"

Yzma took a break from singing to declare to the harried, "I can't WAIT to show you my new project: Yzmatopia! It's currently under the name 'Hall of Protectors' right now, but you can't stop progress! Yzmopolis is growing! And soon, soon, SOON, it will become - !"

Upon hearing that their territory was to become Yzma's home base, Orion and Vega were incensed. Chrysta was still too busy evading ammunition to be able to divert energy, but Orion and Vega charged directly for Yzma, enchantlet-whips blazing – and that gave Prisma, Morgana, and Mera the perfect opening to converge, uniting their powers.

CLINK. The two giant crystals containing Orion and Vega hit the floor.

"YZMOPOLIS MEGALOPOLIS!" Yzma's friends chorused.

"My purple legacy!" Yzma declared.

"YZMOPOLIS!" her friends reiterated.

"There's no stoppingness!" Yzma belted.

The music hit a sour note and halted as the Lobster Mobster said, "Hey, that ain't a word!"

Yzma shot to his side to sing sweetly, "It is to meeeeeeee!"

The Lobster Mobster thought it over, gave a shrug and an "Eh," and went back to playing.

There were now blasts of magic and crystal explosions all over the room as the villains tried to take down Chrysta, the one last fly in the ointment. Yzma, seeing this, took a slower tempo: "Some have tried to run and hide, but they just can't get free!"

Wuya pulled up in midair in front of Chrysta, blocking her path with a smirk. "Boo."

Chrysta gasped and recoiled.

"'Cause if I'm ever dead," Yzma sang soulfully, "you'll bow your head…"

Wuya let loose an immense blast of magic. Chrysta ducked it speedily, kicked Wuya in the solar plexus sharply with her high-laced boot, and then made a breakaway, realizing she had to cut her losses.

"TO AN YZ-MUMMY OF ME!" Yzma crowed, giving a hysterical laugh as Chrysta found the nearest window, promptly vaulting herself out of it.

With the attack over, the group of villains reconvened into a glittering chorus line, singing, "Welcome to her city! Welcome to her land!"

Yzma joined them: "Welcome to the empire THAT ONLY I COMMAND!"

Wuya gave a stomp into a dramatic pose, and from where her foot hit, a deeper purple shade spread out, quickly overtaking the whole room.

As Chrysta sped away for her life, she looked over her shoulder. She gasped to see the Hall of Protectors turn plum shot through with lavender and electric blue – an inversion of its usual palette – and gain sharper edges to its turrets, Yzma's face emerging from the exterior walls in enormous bas-relief.

Inside the newly redecorated Castle of Yzmatopia, Yzma gave one final "YZMOPOLIS!" of triumph, and the song was ended.

"So are we gonna worry about the escapee?" Wuya ventured.

"Eh." Yzma shrugged. "She'll be back. A good time to show off how much raw power we have."

"That better be in a few hours at least." Mera stumbled to the table, taking a chair. "That took a lot out of me."

Indus made to hurry to her, but smiled to see Prisma actually get there first; "Is there anything I can do for you? I can make you a crystal-studded pillow!"

"If the crystals aren't pokey and are kept to a minimum, that'd be great," Mera sighed.

"CRYSTALLO!" Prisma gave her three pillows, just in case. Two behind and one dropping into her lap.

"Mmm…soft…" Mera nuzzled into her pillow nest.

"I'd say Mera has earned her rest," Yzma proclaimed. "But as for the rest of you!" She turned to face the others. "I want this castle scoured from tower to dungeon – "

"The dungeon IS a tower," Prisma pointed out. "Everyone knows that."

"From top to bottom, then," Yzma corrected. "Chase out any stragglers and ensure every inch of this fortress is glamorous, sparkling, and fabulous! Don't leave a single room in it without my face somewhere in the décor!"

"Lady Yzma!" Indus raised his hand. "I have two questions!"

Yzma nodded. "You may speak."

"What would you like done with them?" Indus gestured to the crystals that held the Protector council.

"Hmm." Yzma thought it over. "Let's go classic. Arrange them in the front garden and make sure they're clearly visible as a warning to anyone else who approaches. What's the other question?"

"Can I keep the T-shirt?" Indus asked.

"Yes," Yzma sighed. "You can keep the T-shirt."

"All right, divas!" Morgana declared, hoisting the trident high. "It's time to make some WAVES!"

...

Warning Papyrus to get away from Knightdock was a drastic decision, but not one that Sans ever regretted. Because as he'd feared, things had only gotten worse.

Humans and monsters were at a cold war. The streets were packed with demonstrators for one cause or the other at any given time. The town wasn't exactly a normal one before, but now it felt like a dystopia.

So many people were trying to do the right thing. So many people were just caught up in the flow, harming others and thinking they were in the right. And then there was the one who made no delusions to herself about how cruel she was truly being.

After all, with officers like Dan Lyons trying to speak out for what was right, there were those who believed the law enforcement of Knightdock had gotten soft. Rumor was that Undyne had tried to join the force as well and add monster voices to the squad. There was one to which this was unacceptable. She'd clawed and kicked and scraped her way up the ladder in New Vulpine, but never ascended beyond second-best. Well, Knightdock might have been a less reputable faction, but over there, she could quickly clean up the messes and crown herself the captain. So she submitted a request to transfer.

Within a week of her ascension, Lyons was bullied out and Undyne was publicly humiliated to the point of not trying to submit her résumé again. All in a day's work. Thus did Knightdock come to either love or fear Captain Jihl Nabaat – and there was no in-between.

Jihl took her role very seriously. After all, in all the upheaval, the people were looking for someone like her, a hero for some and a villain for others. Power so easily fell into her lap here – she would've boasted to her cohorts in New Vulpine had she not known it would fall on deaf ears. They never had appreciated her there. But here?

She strode through town in broad daylight, wearing a uniform she'd instated herself for captains only – a fabulously adorned confection with a tiered skirt, a low neckline, a high collar, a short necktie, and high heels. She adjusted her glasses in the sunlight, noting how in her peripheral vision, humans and monsters alike jostled to give her a wide berth. She was even strutting dead center of the street – cars would slow and swerve for her just on sight.

"I heard she arrested Onion-san for loitering," someone whispered. "In the lake where he LIVES!"

Jihl was proud of that one. She smirked to herself.

A soccer ball rolled into the road, and she stopped it with a shoe, pinning it to the asphalt. With a glare and a smirk, she turned to see the children who had started chasing it – the children who'd realized she was there and started pulling to a comedic halt.

"Children aren't supposed to play in the street or obstruct traffic," Jihl stated smugly. "I suggest you clear out of here before I contact your parents about what you've done. Unless you WANT them to be fined for your actions…"

She gave the ball a sharp kick. It slammed into the chest of the boy in the lead, knocking him into a sitting position. Satisfied, Jihl tossed her waist-length blonde hair and continued her stride –

"It's real rich of you to mouth off to us when YOU'RE walking in the middle of the road."

Jihl halted, slowly turning. Of course. That child. The one in the striped sweater. Their cohorts were already skittering away from them, hissing, "Frisk, no!"

Jihl walked right up to Frisk, leaning over them like a shadow of doom. "Frisk," she greeted. "How pleasant it is to see you again. It's been…what, three days since you've mouthed off to me in public?"

"Because you're a jerk," Frisk spat.

"Frisk," Jihl sighed, "what happened the last time you mouthed off to me?"

"You called my parents," Frisk replied, faltering slightly.

"Do you want it to happen again?" Jihl asked. "Maybe you would. After all, your parents are such lovely people. So understanding and gentle toward their only child."

(She knew they weren't. Legally, her job description suggested she needed to do something about that. In practicality, it wasn't her problem.)

"Ngh…SHUT UP!" Frisk turned and bolted. Not toward their own home – to Toriel's. Naturally. Jihl rolled her eyes as she straightened up and resumed her course.

Maybe it would be time for a "neighborhood watch" to report some suspicious activity around Toriel's home. Jihl never had liked that woman.

For now, Jihl had very urgent business to attend to. Mettaton had decided to host a "Rally for Equality" that was themed around the citizens of the town leaving behind their biases so they could join hands as one big happy family and sing songs together. Of course, it was also an excuse for him to showboat. He was an impressive showman, and taking him down would give Jihl all the more clout.

She walked to the park, beneath banners and among signs with multicolored letters that said "Live in harmony" and "Love one another!". She planted a heel through a few of the signs that were at foot level. Her hand went to her waist to retrieve her baton – the only weapon she ever needed, and they said no one armed with even the most powerful gun could beat her in a fight when she'd drawn it.

Mettaton was up onstage, singing some stupid song. His little friend the cat doll with the pigtails – what was her name again? - was doing backup vocals and dancing in a silly manner. Mad Mew Mew, that was it. Mettaton and Mad Mew Mew would then gesture to the crowd, which was moshing away, and they'd fill in the next lyrics. A clever gimmick.

Jihl managed to slip unseen to the wings, where she ascended up onto the hastily-constructed wooden stage the robot and doll were using. Once people realized who was arriving, the crowd quickly fell still and silent.

"Ah, yes, I know you're in awe of my dancing!" Mettaton chuckled. "But this rally isn't about me! …Mostly. No, it's about you, and how we all dance best when we're one flashy flash mob!"

"Mettaton," Mad Mew Mew croaked.

"Oh, WHAT is i – " Mettaton's expression once he noticed Jihl was priceless.

She elbowed him. Ripped the microphone from his hand. Looking to the audience, Jihl began, "This rally is officially classified as a disturbance to the peace. You have five minutes to clear out and take all your paraphernalia with you. Anyone who doesn't comply will – "

She never got to finish the threat. Because the stage burst into flames. A ring of blue fire that neatly surrounded her. For a moment, the attendees thought she'd summoned it somehow, but when they realized she was as confused as the rest of them, the horror set in.

Mettaton's dance was now that of the overheating robot, leaping offstage with a yelp. Mew Mew wasn't far behind, dropping and rolling to put out the fire to her ruffly skirt.

"I would listen to the captain if I were you," a husky voice called out through a megaphone. "Or the consequences will be grave indeed."

Then the two swordspeople descended, flicking quicky through the crowd. A woman with two shortswords. A young man with a katana and a clawed gauntlet that scratched out at the innocent. They weren't here to kill, but they were here to shed blood. Several nonfatal wounds drove home the point that everyone had to evacuate at once.

Jihl watched the pair of them dance through the mob, chasing them out. All but two. Two very strangely dressed men who stood still and calm, eyes locked on Jihl. One of them, the larger of the two (though the first thing Jihl noticed was the dragon-skull-shaped helmet), had a megaphone at his side.

Ah.

The rally attendees and organizers had gone. The signs were mostly trampled in the panic. Now only Mozenrath and the Huntsman remained; Miratrix and Albel fell into line on either side of them.

"You see how she makes me pull double the weight?" Albel complained. "I covered three times as much ground as her, and the wounds I dealt will be far more grievous!"

"Stop LYING!" Miratrix barked. "I did more than you, I did so much more VIOLENTLY than you, and you were three steps behind me at every turn!"

"Children," Mozenrath sighed. "Don't make me turn this car around."

"You know," Jihl said, quite bemused, "legally, I'm obligated to have you all seized for disturbing the peace AND obstructing justice."

"I suppose you are tempted," the Huntsman replied. "After all, we did steal your thunder – an unforgivable crime in your own eyes. However, you must realize that this was done specifically to get your attention."

"We have a little business proposition for you," Mozenrath added. "Walk and talk with us, and then decide if you want to be our friend or our enemy. It'll be your call."

"You've got guts," Jihl responded. "I'll hear you out at the very least. But first, call off the pyrotechnics. You can't talk to me if I'm burned to a crisp."

Mozenrath waved a hand flippantly, creating a fire-free stage.

Jihl descended, then met up with the group. The Huntsman turned, gesturing, and the five set off at a stride back toward the police station that served as Jihl's office.

"What you've done is impressive, especially in such a short amount of time," the Huntsman said. "Even without holding political office, you seem to own the town."

"Even the politicians are afraid of me," Jihl bragged. "I could end them in moments. After all, there are very few of them who haven't committed crimes of some sort. Their compliance buys them privacy and secrecy, but rest assured, I know EVERYTHING that could cause them to crash and burn."

"Well done," Mozenrath told her. "You managed to blackmail a small-time mayor and a city council of peons. However, the question I have for you is this: is this really where you wanted to stop?"

"I don't see what you mean," Jihl replied. "In New Vulpine, I was never anything more than second-best on the force. A grunt for the system. But here, in this backward little town? I'm practically queen."

"You said it yourself," Mozenrath told her. "It's a backward little town. That's really all you want? That's where the finish line is? If so, I'm already disappointed."

"What are you suggesting I do?" Jihl asked, folding her arms. "Go on a hostile takeover of the county?"

"Think bigger," Mozenrath said flatly.

"Have you heard of the possibility of the existence of other worlds?" the Huntsman asked.

"It's been rumored," Jihl replied. "Nothing proven. Are you about to say you're from these other worlds? Because that would explain the cosplay, at least."

"We can demonstrate plenty of proof to you," Mozenrath told her. "But for now, just indulge us. In a completely hypothetical universe, if you could join a syndicate that would land you at least one sizeable kingdom – not town, but KINGDOM – with the goal of taking, oh, let's set the cap at THE REST OF THE INFINITE MULTIVERSE later, would you or would you not be interested?"

"Of course I'd be interested," Jihl replied. "But first and foremost, you've given me no proof this isn't the ramblings of a gaggle of homeless LARPers. Second, I've been paying attention to your wording. Even if your syndicate IS real, you haven't actually taken anything, which, if this is all a lie, is horribly pathetic. How can you not even be bothered to boast in your own lie?"

"That should suggest that it is no lie," the Huntsman responded.

"Why would I trade a sure thing for a possibility?" Jihl went on. "Knightdock is small and pathetic. But it's MINE." Her brow furrowed. "I worked too hard to go back to being the right-hand woman. I know how expendable they all thought I was."

"A compelling argument," Mozenrath conceded. "And an admirable attitude about the whole thing, actually."

"Will you at least listen to our proposal?" the Huntsman asked.

"Fine." Jihl tossed her hair. "Wow me."

So they started explaining the WHAM ARMY, and showing her all manner of magic and photographic evidence that got her to admit at least the existence of other worlds. While this was going on, Albel and Miratrix trailed behind, distancing themselves from the conversation – since the others had decided they weren't fit to be part of it.

"You know," Albel hissed, "if we were allowed to kill instead of merely maim, I would have plenty of evidence that I am three times the warrior you are, worm."

"You mean you would take credit for the kills I make!" Miratrix spat.

"Why would I want to do that?" Albel sneered. "They called me 'Albel the Wicked' for my methods of extreme torment. A kill of mine would look nothing like a kill of yours. You would make it too quick, to pathetic. The bodies I leave behind would be works of art."

"I bet you're saying that to throw me off guard before you mutilate the bodies I've felled," Miratrix growled. She then shook her head; "We haven't even encountered a group to slaughter yet!"

"But I think we both agree this has to be settled when we have the chance," Albel told her. "Once we're given permission to kill, then I can show you that I am the better warrior."

"YOU, the better warrior?" Miratrix snorted. "You grew up on a backwards version of medieval Earth that wasn't even REAL. I've fought my way across galaxies!"

"Are you forgetting the ventures I made on my own journey?" Albel spat. "Across planets, moons, the dread planet Styx itself, from the data dimension to that of flesh? You would MINIMIZE this?"

"I bet you stumbled through it half-confused with no idea of what was going on," Miratrix growled.

"And I bet you're greatly exaggerating the number of places you've even been," Albel hissed.

"You are NOT better than me," Miratrix snapped.

"You reek of desperation," Albel told her. "Just concede that I am superior, and perhaps then you will smell more tolerable."

Miratrix snapped. With a roar, she roughly seized one of Albel's long braids and yanked it hard.

"YOU - !" Albel, startled by the sharp pain from his own scalp, rounded on Miratrix and scratched with his sharpened gauntlet.

"AH!" Miratrix screeched, clutching at where there were four gashes on her arm, bleeding heavily now. "MOZENRATH! HUNTSMAN! ALBEL TRIED TO KILL ME!"

"Oh, please," Albel scoffed, running a hand over his head to make sure that the braid was still there. "Don't flatter yourself by thinking you deserve my time. And she's the one who began it!" He patted his hair. "Do you know how long it took to grow this out?"

"YES!" Miratrix yelled. "THAT'S WHY I DID IT! AND NEXT TIME, I'LL CUT IT OFF!"

The Huntsman rounded on them; "WILL YOU TWO CEASE?"

His rage was far more intimidating than either of them could be. Both Albel and Miratrix clammed up.

"Mozenrath," the Huntsman sighed. "Tend to Miratrix."

Mozenrath snapped his fingers, and thick bandages wrapped themselves around Miratrix's wound. He then passed her a potion, sighing in dismay as she swiped it from him.

"The wound will heal," Miratrix hissed. "But he tore my TUNIC!"

"ENOUGH!" the Huntsman yelled, and both she and Albel flinched again. "There will be no more antics out of either of you, or you will be confined to separate cells within the Grandmaster's domain and BARRED from the Lost Lounge of the Sun! AM I CLEAR?"

"Now, George," Mozenrath broke in, "that punishment just doesn't seem fair. After all, isolation from each other is what they WANT, all considered. I say we lock them in the SAME cell, just the two of them, and bar them from the lounge. Then all they'll have is an infinite loop and each other."

"ANYTHING BUT THAT!" Albel and Miratrix gasped in horror.

"Then you will be silent," the Huntsman commanded, "and you will GET ALONG!"

This was met with a pair of resigned sighs.

"Yes, Huntsman," Miratrix muttered.

"She'll see no more trouble from me," Albel grumbled.

"As you were." The Huntsman turned to lead the group again.

Jihl was chuckling softly. "Your children, I take it?"

"No," the Huntsman replied. "Apprentices. No blood relation, and no familial feelings whatsoever."

"You could've fooled me," Jihl replied. "After all, that was the exact energy of a beleaguered father trying to get his six-year-olds to settle down."

"Well, you're right about them acting like toddlers," Mozenrath observed.

Albel and Miratrix kept their promise and their heads down all the way to the station. By that time, Jihl had been thoroughly convinced of the WHAM ARMY and its story, but still stuck firm to her original view.

"I won't trade a sure thing for a gamble," she said. "You'll give me reason to believe I'm entering a better deal or I won't have any part of it."

"How about this," Mozenrath told her. "Your loyalty or your life?"

"It's humorous that you think you could take me," Jihl replied. "And is that really the way you wish to play this? Threatening me into submission? That would remove ALL of my reason to trust you."

"Mozenrath's words are empty," the Huntsman said quickly. "I am the captain of this mission, and I give you permission to refuse and see no consequence."

"Way to undermine me," Mozenrath grumbled.

"Well," Jihl said. "Even if the brats aren't your children, the two of you are definitely a married couple."

"NO, WE'RE NOT!" Mozenrath barked.

"Don't sugar-coat our bond that way," the Huntsman growled. "As it stands, before you make your decision, there is one more favor we would like to ask of you. Perhaps it may change your mind."

"That's right," Mozenrath realized. "If I recall, you're currently in possession of a very…interesting prisoner. But not for long, if my sources are correct."
Jihl smirked. "So you know. Asgore, former king of the monsters. What a joke. I have him on seven counts of murder, and he can't even be bothered to take pride in it. All he does is languish depressed in that cell of his. I guess I can't blame him too much, though, considering he's on death row, and he gets the chair at sundown today."

"Show him to us," the Huntsman commanded.

"I don't know what you'll get out of it," Jihl replied, "but I guess there's no reason not to."

She led them into the station. No one else was on duty at the moment; it belonged to the WHAM ARMY only that day. Back she went into the cell where Asgore was kept.

"I've brought you visitors," Jihl announced.

Asgore didn't even look. He sat on the meager bed, head down.

"Still mopey that you got what was coming to you?" Jihl teased. "You're lucky it took us this long to get through the red tape and finally end your miserable life."

"It…may be time for it to come to an end," Asgore muttered. "If I could do it over again…what would I change? Toriel…Asriel…Chara…would I have been a better husband and father? Or should I have simply embraced what I am…a murderer?"

"If you could do it over again," the Huntsman broke in, "then I would cut your life far shorter than you got away with in this reality."

That finally snapped Asgore out of his funk. He looked up, horrified, to the Huntsman. Then fell right off the bed onto the floor. "YOU? No…no, you can't…"

"I've returned to finish what I started," the Huntsman told him.

"Oh, now, WAIT a moment," Jihl realized. "You were the leader of the insurrection? YOU were the one who almost did my job for me months ago?" She was brought to laughter. "And you set that all up just to demonstrate it to me like THIS! I have to commend you on the performance."

"We are of the same cloth, you and I," the Huntsman told her. "As emphasized by our common enemy."

"Don't give him THAT much credit," Mozenrath said. "I'd say he's more of your common victim right now."

"I can see where this is going from miles away," Jihl realized. "You want to be present for the execution! No, wait, you want to pull the lever, don't you?"

"Would you allow me to?" the Huntsman asked.

"I think at the very least, you should have that honor," Jihl told him. "If nothing else, this has been a very entertaining diversion."

"Then allow me two concessions," the Huntsman said. "One is that he is not killed by electric chair, or injection, or any traditional method. I will end him with my own weapon."

"I don't see why not," Jihl said. "No matter what, he ends up dead. And the second?"

"Make the execution public," the Huntsman said. "Dead center of town, at twilight. Spread the news. The death of the king of monsters will serve as an example to monsters and humans alike. They see what awaits them if they disobey. You will take full credit for the arrangement of the venue. It will be your idea, for all intents and purposes. I will simply make the kill that is long overdue. It is you who will be feared and revered for it."

Jihl was gobsmacked. Then finally found her voice: "I'm really starting to like you. Consider it done."

...

In the courtyards of the Asgardian academy of magic, where the young went to practice their prowess in the mystical arts, a boy named Eyvindr, with fair skin and dark hair, was weaving patterns of light in the air, painting a mural out of magic. Beautiful vistas bloomed beneath his fingers; so many wanted to use their powers for war, but he wanted to use them to create things that had never been seen before.

A rough shove toppled him. "Eyvindr is doing women's enchantments again!" the bully of the courtyard bellowed. His posse was quick to surround Eyvindr, all jeering out:

"Eyvindr, are you secretly a girl?"

"What are all these colors?"

"You'll be the soldier who gets your troops killed by making these meaningless images instead of fighting!"

Eyvindr snarled, eyes practically glowing. When the first boot planted into his side, he screamed, "GET AWAY FROM ME!"

The blast sent the bullies staggering, falling onto their backs. Eyvindr pried himself to his feet. "Am I so incompetent now?" he seethed.

"Not just a girl." The lead bully sat up, spitting blood. "A BITCH."

"WHY YOU – "

Had it been an ordinary teacher who came hustling along to them, the boys would've scattered, clammed up. But to their eyes, it was Odin himself who arrived, having stopped here on his tour. "WHAT is the meaning of this?" he barked.

Of course, in truth, it was Loki. Which would've been even more reason to fear.

"That BITCH struck us with his enchantments!" the lead bully accused. "He was trying to kill us!"

"Is that so?" Loki replied teasingly. "From where I stood, it seemed you were the instigators. Or did he give himself that bruise in his own blast? I should think, given your preoccupation with what is manly, that you would appreciate retaliation. Leave him at once. I want a word with him."

There was a rustling whisper of "Yes, King Odin" among the other boys, and they scattered like the four winds. Blond muscleheads, Loki noted, the lot of them. Like someone had ripped all the heart and conscience from Thor.

Eyvindr stared up at Loki, wide-eyed. "They started it," he said weakly. "I was only – "

"I know," Loki replied. "What else did they call you?"

"A girl. Useless. They hit me. They said I would lose wars. They think I'm weak. I'm certain next it would have been insults toward…rather, accusing me of…"

Odin sighed. "To think there are still children growing up in my kingdom who would taunt others for whom they love and lust for, or how they appear." It really was disconcerting – Asgard was supposedly a more open-minded place than most locales on Midgard. Not that Loki cared beyond where it went for himself.

He didn't really care about this boy either, he thought, except the boy looked so much like him, acted so much like he did during this age, made magic that reminded him of his own illusions woven of light –

No. He wasn't caring for the boy. What he did next, he did for his younger self, the one who'd grown up without this thanks to Odin's neglect. "What is your name, boy?"

"Eyvindr."

"Ah, yes, Eyvindr," Loki replied. "Do you believe their words?"

"I don't wish to," Eyvindr said. "But they're said so often."

"Lies are told quite often," Loki said with a smirk. (After all, when he told them, he didn't stop at just one iteration.) "You mustn't believe any of what they say, when they say you've no right to self-worth. When they call you names or accuse you. After all, you remind me of someone very, very dear to my own heart: my son, Loki. How I did love him. His death in Svartalfheim…it tore a piece from me that can never be returned. Seeing you weave magic in the way he did at your age…almost mended me."

"You loved Loki?" Eyvindr was skeptical. "Everyone knows Thor was your favorite child. Loki was a Frost Giant bastard."

"Perhaps that is the impression I falsely gave," Loki went on. "I never knew how to truly say what it is I felt. Perhaps because that truth…would have destroyed our family. I wished for it to appear that I loved both of my boys equally, but in my attempt to suppress my affection for Loki, I fear I made it come across that I found him inferior. In truth, he was my favorite of the boys. Thor may have been my blood, but Loki was my choice to raise as my own. Loki may have been mischievous, but he was clever. Thor was volatile, violent, pigheaded until very, very recently. I always feared what he would come to."

"But then Loki betrayed you," Eyvinder pointed out.

"My own fault," Loki replied. "What I would give to turn back time. I would wish for him to know that he shone brighter than a thousand suns. You can work out what it means for you, then, to be similar to him."

"I shine…" Eyvindr said softly, wide-eyed. Thinking the god-king of all Asgard had just told him such a thing. (And in Odin's absence, was Loki not the god-king of all Asgard?)

"And he was effeminate," Odin went on. "Perhaps it does not behoove me to say such things of the dead, but there were those who considered what he did to be women's work. His passions ran to intelligent men, and while most of the stories of him taking a female form to enact trickery were only rumors told for amusement…there may be one or two that is true. This did not stop him from being the most powerful, cunning Asgardian to be known to this realm. I see in you a spark that may bloom into the same fire."

"The most powerful and cunning." Eyvinder grinned. Somewhat mischievously, actually.

"Who says a man must act in arbitrary ways in order to be a man?" Loki went on. "Your magic is artful. That in no way stopped you from using powerful force against your tormentors." His voice dropped low. "And if it were to happen again…I'm certain your instructors would look the other way, at my word."

"You would do that?" Eyvindr gaped.

"Do you wish to take advantage of the opportunity while I am here," Loki asked, "or will you squander this glorious moment?"

Eyvindr smirked outright. "Go distract the chaperones. I've got righteous revenge to commit."

"That's the spirit," Loki said as Eyvindr stalked off to torment the tormentors. He then returned to his entourage: Amora and her new legion of bodyguards stolen from the WHAM ARMY.

"How adorable," Amora teased. "I never would have taken you for the mentor sort."

"Rest assured, it has nothing to do with Eyvindr himself," Loki replied.

"I grasped as much," Amora said. "A smaller, weaker Loki. Watch your words, or he could be the next to compete with you once he grows old enough. He could even overthrow you thanks to your encouragement."

"Must you think so little of me?" Loki teased. "I would hardly – "

He saw the shadow move. His eyes followed it, and he saw the flash of maroon past the door.

"I had been wondering when they would return," Loki sighed. "Amora – "

Amora nodded. "You keep to your playground bullying. I shall see to this matter, and with a little friendly fire, at that." She stalked off, clapping twice. "Come, loyal servants."

Carrion, Shape, Sho, and Aghoul turned to follow her without so much as a word.

Amora was able to track the intruders all the way to the mess hall, which was currently cleared out. This was no school cafeteria the way one might think of it – this was a golden hall of elongated tables, upon which dining as fine as anywhere else in Asgard would be placed before the youth.

"Do you think this a game of hide-and-seek?" Amora taunted. "If so, then my pets shall begin seeking." She nodded to the four men she kept prisoner. "Find them. You remember what they look like. Stamp them out. They are no friends of yours."

Carrion, Shape, Sho, and Aghoul fanned out, searching the mess hall. Wherever Mim and her cohorts hid, it would be only a matter of time until they were found.

And Mim knew that. So she leapt out from her hiding place beneath the table, vaulted onto the tabletop, and shrieked, "OLLY OLLY OXEN FREE!"

Interspersed through the room, Letheo, Whisp, and Coco did the same. "FOOD FIIIIIIIGHT!" Coco shrieked.

Amora's minions – their friends – rushed. While Mim, Letheo, Whisp, and Coco worked to keep them at bay, Valentine crawled beneath the tables to where Amora awaited by the door. He intended to make this quick.

Of course, he'd left Coco a few gifts to match her aesthetic. Coco was now able to smash heart-shaped boxes of chocolate repeatedly into Sho's face to stymie him from attacking. Letheo ended up finding a pair of drumsticks from some sort of giant bird exclusive to the godly realms, wielding them like longswords and bringing them up to meet Shape's blades. The length of the bones was just right to parry them. Whisp summoned a light current of Dark magic and used it to ferry a thicker cloud of recently-ground black pepper, surrounding Carrion and stuffing the spice in all his facial orifices to slow him down. Mim levitated a several-gallon cauldron of hot ox stew, dumping it over Ayam Aghoul like molten lead.

Valentine emerged from the tables behind Amora, sneaking up to get in close range. Then he got her attention: "Thought you could do that to my entourage?"

She turned, a blast of green magic at the ready. Valentine countered with emerald lightning of his own.

"You think you have the upper hand?" Amora taunted as the two magics clashed, hers gradually pushing closer and closer.

"No." Valentine used his free hand to pull down his sunglasses, staring directly into Amora's eyes. "I think I've got your gaze."

Amora gasped. There was a moment of lucidity; she recognized this brand of magic being transferred to her because it was the same that she used in her kisses –

And then she was docile, no longer caring. Her magic fizzled; Valentine called his off to give a sense of security. Amora smiled softly. "What a charming young man," she sighed. "I could never harm you. A thing of your beauty hasn't been seen here in ages."

Valentine replaced his glasses, using them to check Amora's levels of love. She was head over heels, a heart almost ready to be extracted from the get-go. Perhaps it was her own capacity to turn others' hearts to her that made her particularly susceptible to a little love magic. He would barely have to work for this.

"Darlin'," he said sweetly, "you don't belong here. You and I have bigger and better places to be! I'll show you love like you never knew before."

"I want you to," Amora replied. "The men around here are so…boring. Until you."

"I'll need a token of your love, first," Valentine said.

"Anything," Amora replied. "The rarest of jewels, the ring of the Nibelung – "

"Not a physical token," Valentine said cockily. "I want to be your only one. Release the others. Unless they mean more to you than me."

Amora put up a hand, snapping her fingers. There was a spark of green.

"WHAT IN THE – " Aghoul sputtered, coughing up stew. "Why, that temptress! She lay in wait for me exactly where she knew I'd be!" He turned to Mim with pleading eyes. "Mimsy, corpseflower, you know I would never turn on you for an OVERTAKER!"

"I'm well aware," Mim replied. "You belong to ME, and don't you forget it! She couldn't have handled such a disgusting man anyhow."

"A disgusting man needs a disgusting woman," Aghoul said sweetly.

Mim took that as a cue to run to him; he caught her in his embrace, spun her, kissed her.

The other reunions weren't nearly as sweet.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING – CHOO! – OF THI – CHOO!" Carrion was sneezing rapidly, eyes watering.

"You were going to poison me with nightmares if I didn't," Whisp said flatly. "Also, hi. I'm your new friend. You don't have a choice in this."

"LETHEO, STOP!" Shape pleaded as Letheo beat him with the fowl drumsticks. "THE ENCHANTMENT HAS WORN OFF!"

"HOW DO I KNOW THAT FOR SURE?" Letheo replied, continuing to pummel.

Sho just scraped chocolate off his face, looking at it in a disgruntled manner. "Of all things, you had to hit me with a 2.9999999999?"

"A whaaaaa?" Coco replied. "Oh, wait, I get it! A 3! Anyway…I got you a box of chocolates, but I beated your face with it?"

Sho licked the stray chocolate off his hand in one go. "Just because it's delicious doesn't make it any less embarrassing. Chocolate isn't for battle; it's for improbable sculptures! Do I really have to spell that out for you?"

Coco passed him a small cardboard box Valentine had given her for this exact moment. Sho flicked it open to find it full of chalky conversation hearts that simply read "I'M SORRY"

He rolled his eyes. "If anyone's sorry, it's that zettabyte over there – "

They looked to Amora, who was smitten, practically swaying in place, weak in the knees. Valentine himself was almost uncomfortable by the sight – he had to finish the job now. A hand reached forward, ready to harvest her heart and put her out of commission.

"You'd give me anything, right?" he said sweetly.

"Anything," Amora replied.

"Even your heart?" Valentine asked.

"You already have my heart," Amora replied.

"No," Valentine told her. "Not…quite…yet."

He reached out, fingertips brushing at her sternum –

"WHOAAA-AAAH-OH-OH-AH!"

It was a musical chorus, a several-part harmony, no less than a choir belting out the vocalizations at top volume. The noise was enough to startle everyone in the mess hall – Valentine flinched, hesitating just too long.

"Ladies and gents, this is the moment you've waited for!" a tenor voice warbled.

Amora snapped out of it, the sound of the music having broken the spell. She looked to the sound of the disturbance, gave a nod of thanks, and then fled.

"WHOA-AAAH-OH-OH-AH!"

Everyone else saw, now, what had come along. An entire troop of Asgardians in full battle dress. They'd been the ones who'd sung. At their lead, a most unusual general. Instead of armor or uniform, this dark-haired man wore a glittering purple tuxedo with long coattails and a smirk.

He spread his arms wide to sing the lead again; "Been searching in the dark, your sweat soaking through the floor!"

The Asgardian legion gave another "WHOA-AAAH-OH-OH-AH!" and a synchronized stamp.

"And buried in your bones, there's an ache that you can't ignore!" The man in purple danced slowly, almost intimidatingly closer to the WHAM ARMY. "Taking your breath, stealing your mind, and all that was real is left behind!"

"NOW WAIT JUST A MINUTE!" Mim shrieked, bringing the song to a halt. "WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?"

"…Dead." Aghoul's eyes were wide. "He's DEAD, but he isn't even UNDEAD. He's a ghost, but in every sense, he's not in the Netherworld at all. He's here, in THIS plane, visible, tactile…" He pointed, shakingly, at the backup chorus. "And so are all of THEM! But HOW?"

"Oh, you like them?" the man in purple said cheekily. "They're my chorus. Really just background decoration, but what's a show without choreography and pizzazz? They were all glad to step away from the battlefields they were haunting in order to take MY offer instead. And as for me?" He bowed deeply, one arm beneath his chest. "Call me Caleb Covington."

He snapped his head back up and belted, "DON'T FIGHT IT! IT'S COMING FOR, YOU RUNNING AT YOU!"

On his command, the song restarted, and the legion of the dead surged into the mess hall, weapons drawn to clash with the WHAM ARMY.

"It's only this moment!" Caleb belted. "Don't care what comes after!"

Mim had begun hurling balls of sparkling magic that ricocheted off Asgardian shields.

"Your fever dream, can't you see it getting closer!" Caleb spun slowly, dramatically.

Aghoul had brought out his scythe to try and fend off a nest of swords.

"Just surrender 'cause you feel the feeling taking over!" Caleb leapt up atop a table.

Sho and Coco fired bright shapes of magic, back-to-back, only for the dead to keep pressing on through in a way that reminded Sho unsettlingly of the Cauldron-Born.

"It's fire! It's freedom! It's flooding open!" Caleb crowed.

Letheo and Shape worked together to cut down – or attempt to cut down – any soldiers that drew too close to Carrion. Carrion waited for them to thin the herd; he focused on generating the worst nightmares he could conceive.

"There's something breaking at the brick of every wall; it's holding – " Caleb sang.

A waist-high cyclone of Darkness shot through with lightning surrounded Whisp and Valentine, expanding and retracting at their joint command to strike their new foes.

"All that you know!" Caleb leapt high, jumping down into the fray. "SO TELL ME, DO YOU WANNA GO?"

He reached out, grabbing Whisp by the hand, pulling her from the cyclone's protection and forcing her into a fast-paced dance across the mess hall, one hand chastely at her waist and the other linked in her hand. "Where it's covered in all the colored lights!" Caleb sang as he spun Whisp across the room. "Where the runaways are running the night! Impossible comes true; it's taking over you! Oh! THIS IS THE GREATEST SHOW!"

Whisp struggled. There was something almost hypnotic in the way she was dancing with him, seemingly moving her own feet to match him. Did he have the same kind of powers as Amora, but that allowed the victim to be aware of the state of hypnosis?

"We light it up; we won't come down!" Caleb twirled Whisp. "And the sun can't stop us now!"

Even when Valentine inserted himself between Whisp and Caleb, outright punching the latter in the face, Caleb's stride wasn't broken. He seized Valentine as his next dance partner instead; "Watching it come true! It's taking over you!"

Whisp charged away from Caleb, looking for an escape, but the dead troops were blocking all ways out. That wasn't even the worst of her situation, of course…but she hadn't yet noticed the violet mark left where Caleb had touched her hand.

"Oh! THIS IS THE GREATEST SHOW!" Caleb dipped Valentine low, and Valentine had to suppress several intrusive thoughts about the charming and handsome man who had him in thrall. After the troops gave another yell, Caleb continued, "Colossal we come, these renegades in the ring! Where the lost get found in the crown of the circus king!"

He spun Valentine away, leaving another purple mark on the vampire's hand. Then Caleb took Letheo as his next dance partner; "Don't fight it; it's coming for you, running at you! It's only this moment, don't care what comes after! It's blinding, outshining everything that you know! Just surrender 'cause you're calling and you WANNA GO!"

So smoothly he traded Letheo for Shape, whirling the confused swordsman round and round to "Where it's covered in all the colored lights! Where the runaways are running the night! Impossible comes true; intoxicating you! Oh, THIS IS THE GREATEST SHOW!"

Shape tried to break his hold, but Caleb somehow turned it into another complex spin; "We light it up; we won't come down! And the sun can't stop us now! Watching it come true; it's taking over you! Oh, THIS IS THE GREATEST SHOW!"

Shape finally wriggled away, but only because Caleb had moved on to Carrion, sweeping him into a waltz that somehow matched the 4/4 time of the song. "It's everything you ever want!" Caleb sang. "It's everything you ever need! And it's here right in front of you! This is where you wanna be!"

He next had Coco dancing while standing on his feet; "It's everything you ever want! It's everything you ever need! And it's here right in front of you; this is where you wanna be!" He lifted her high, hands on her waist. "THIS IS WHERE YOU WANNA BE!"

Next he was at Sho, dancing side-by-side with him, and Sho found himself compelled to be symmetrical to the chorus line. "When it's covered in all the colored lights!" Caleb belted. "Where the runaways are running the night! Impossible comes true; it's taking over you! Oh, THIS IS THE GREATEST SHOW!" He then grabbed Sho's hand, taking him on a whirl as well. "We light it up; we won't come down! And the sun can't stop us now! Watching it come true, it's taking over you – "

Sho broke away, pointing at himself with a thumb; "No, THIS is the greatest Sho!"

Caleb was with Mim by that point, bounding in circles the way she usually did, her hands locked in his; "When it's covered in all the colored lights! Where the runaways are running the night! Impossible comes true; it's taking over you! Oh, THIS IS THE GREATEST SHOW!"

Aghoul attempted to tackle Caleb from behind and rescue Mim, but Caleb pivoted, and now, all of a sudden, with one hand to Mim and one to Aghoul, he was dancing with both, spinning them round and round, leading them through the crowd. "We light it up; we won't come down! And the walls can't stop us now! I'm watching it come true; it's taking over you! Oh, THIS IS THE GREATEST SHOW!"

He spun Mim away, focusing solely on Aghoul; "'Cause everything you want is right in front of you! And you see the impossible is coming true! And the walls can't stop us now, YEAH!"

On that last syllable, he released Aghoul. Then, as he sang "THIS IS THE GREATEST SHOW!", Aghoul doubled over in pain. Horrified, Aghoul raised a hand to his face, seeing the purple mark glow visibly.

"THIS IS THE GREATEST SHOW!" Caleb belted, and now Mim seized her hand and shrieked where she'd been marked. "THIS IS THE GREATEST SHOW!" Sho staggered, clutching his wrist in the unmarked hand. "THIS IS THE GREATEST SHOW!" Coco dropped to her knees, tears in her eyes. "THIS IS THE GREATEST SHOW!" Carrion snarled at his own hand where the purple mark bit into him. "THIS IS THE GREATEST SHOW!" Shape screamed to the heavens. "THIS IS THE GREATEST SHOW!" Letheo shuddered, as though having an attack, even though he was fully reptilian and had no further to drop. "THIS IS THE GREATEST SHOW!" Whisp staggered around.

And as Valentine whimpered at the pain from his own purple mark, Caleb leapt atop the center table, throwing his arms out to declare, "THIS IS THE GREATEST SHOOOOOOOOOOW!"

When the song ended, the Asgardian legion of the dead all at once fell still, silent, awaiting orders. "Oh, you don't have to be such a bunch of stiffs!" Caleb encouraged. "Let's hear some AP-PLAAAAAAUSE!"

Obediently, the troops gave him a standing ovation, with whoops and hollers.

"What have you DONE?" Aghoul yelled over the din. "This mark! I can feel it killing me, AND I'M ALREADY DEAD!"

Caleb gave a "simmer down" wave of both hands, and his audience fell silent. "That's just a favorite little party trick of mine," he stated. "It used to ONLY work on the dead, actually, until Loki and Hades came along and gave me a few ideas that were more, well, out of the box. Now, if I remember right, I was told to have security drop you off outside the venue, where you could then suffer a slow, agonizing demise. Oh, and I'm also supposed to remind you that if you'd just let one of the Hidden or the Chimaera get you, well, we wouldn't be in this situation, now, would we? Anyway!" He clapped twice. "SECURITY! THROW 'EM OUT!"

And they were thrown out. Out of a second-story window. Thankfully, they were all durable.

They regrouped, circling up – Aghoul, Mim, Sho, Coco, Carrion, Letheo, Shape, Whisp, and Valentine. They held out their hands to see matching marks.

"That snake put them on us when he danced with us!" Mim barked.

"What a waste of a good dancer," Valentine sniffed.

"What are we supposed to do now?" Whisp yelled in a panic. "We're DYING! Does anyone know how to take these things off?"

"Well, it can't exactly be done on the mortal plane," Aghoul said sheepishly. "Or the divine plane, come to think of it."

"So we just DIE?" Coco screeched.

"No way!" Sho growled. "I already transcended death once! I'll do it as many times as I need to!"

"We have a necromancer anyway," Mim reminded them all. "It's more of the 'slow and painful' part that's going to be a problem."

"And if our ranks are thinned," Carrion reminded them, "even temporarily, we will not be able to accomplish what we came for. After this insult, I refuse to leave without my revenge."

"Oh, it's OUR revenge now," Aghoul growled.

"I'm sick and tired of everyone on Team Loki telling us to go to 1134!" Sho growled.

"1134?" Whisp repeated.

"Pretend you're typing it on a calculator and turning it upside-down," Coco whispered. "It's 'Hell.'"

"What's a calculator?" Letheo asked.

"Somethin' that high schools make you pay top dollar for," Valentine said dryly, "then insist you can't use."

"Oh." Letheo then turned to begin tugging at Aghoul's sleeve; "Please. Let me die how I WANT to be. Not like this."

"Oh, right, right!" Aghoul fished around in his robes, then passed over a bottle of Panacea, which Letheo started slurping down like an alcoholic at whiskey. "Anyway, Sho's idea actually isn't half bad. It's the one option we have left, and I've got some friends in low places who'll not only know how to remove these marks, but also put on a devilishly good concert that can blow that blowhard out of the aether!"

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Mim's eyes sparkled. "Oh, I've always wanted to go! It's such a lovely vacation spot in the hot season…"

"What are you talking about?" Shape asked, wide-eyed.

"Why, we're taking the hint," Aghoul replied. "We're going to Hell."

...

The problem with the Morgause shrine was that when Rose and Lailah had last come here, it had been sealed with only a few strategically-placed large stones. They'd had Edna with them at the time, and she'd been able to break through them with a single punch.

This time around, however, the number of rocks to block the way had increased dramatically. Every single door, every single hallway was obstructed by enormous boulders.

"Edna must be trying to seal herself away so she doesn't hurt anyone," Lailah realized in sorrow.

So began the tiresome excavation. Giovanni, Yang, Velvet, Laphicet, Elsa, Rose, and Lailah banded together to break rocks. It went slowly. Even Laphicet was surprised at how much the earth seemed to resist her powers – but this was the work of strong seraphic artes, she remembered. Molly tagged along, wrapped in a blanket like a cloak, staying off to the side. The explosions weren't great for her particular auditory sensitivities, but she knew that as the Shepherd, she had to deal with it and be the one to meet Edna in the end.

So many beautiful women arranged in one place had attracted the attention of the shrine's guardian, Pawan. He kept "checking in" on them to try and get a glimpse further down Yang's shirt. Before Yang could draw back to knock him out, Velvet had thrown him into the wall, and Elsa said in no uncertain terms that one more offense would result in Pawan being sealed in an iceberg. He'd been quiet since then.

The group managed to get halfway through the temple's labyrinthine halls. Giovanni and Yang were taking a breather from using their dual attack, and Velvet was resting her hand from all the clawing she'd done recently; instead, Laphicet drilled a beam of magic into the boulders ahead like a laser, slowly chipping it apart. Elsa filled the holes Laphicet made with ice to expand them and weaken the rock.

"Ugh, this is such a drag," Giovanni groaned. "We're never gonna get there in time!"

"Please don't say that!" Lailah gasped. "If we're too late for Edna, then…I'd never forgive myself!"

"Huh?" Giovanni flinched. "Oh, the dragon thing. No, I was talking about us beating the WHAM ARMY. They'll be back any minute, and we've been taking SO long, I bet they've had enough time to hold a go-kart race, commit a heist, go to a drawn-out festival parade, meet up for dinner, and wait for the power couple to do the nasty a couple of times!"

"That's an incredibly specific list," Velvet pointed out.

The bellow of "OH, HEA-THENS! I'M HOME!" alerted them all to Roman's return just then. He swaggered in with Snatcher, Harley, Foulfellow, Gideon, Pinstripe, and Tawna in tow. Giving a look around, Roman remarked, "so you guys barely made a dent in this place."

"Hey, we're halfway!" Rose argued. "And in our defense, it wasn't like this last time! Edna's trying really hard to keep us out!"

"Still and all, you'd think more progress would've come from it," Snatcher remarked. "In the time we've been gone, we not only acquired who and what we needed, but also had our fair share of adventures."

"What kind of adventures exactly?" Giovanni asked.

"Real fun stuff!" Harley chirped. "We had a go-kart race, went to a Mardi Gras parade for a heist, met up for dinner and dessert, and then me, Johnny, and Giddy played cards in a hotel lobby while the crime couples did the nasty. And BOY, did the ones in hats take their time about it."

Yang's head snapped toward Giovanni. "HOW did you – "

"I'm as confused as you are," Giovanni replied, "but at the end of the day, the point is, I was right."

"Hey!" Pinstripe barked. "When're you gonna introduce me to your new friends, huh? Guess I gotta do that myself. The name's Don Pinstripelli Potorotti, but that's 'Pinstripe Potoroo' to you lunkheads."

"And I'm Tawna!" Tawna chirped. She made a fake gun shape with her fingers; "Mob girlfriend." She waved. "Nice to meet you guys."

"And we brought one more friend for ya." Pinstripe stepped aside, gesturing to a cart he'd wheeled in behind him. One loaded with glowing green Nitro crates. "Meet Mr. Kaboom, your way through the rest of this mess."

"Whoa!" Rose's eyes widened. "Are those explosives?"

"How'd you get that past Pawan?" Lailah asked.

"You mean the creepy guy who tried to perv on me and Harley?" Tawna said flatly.

"You…didn't need that guy in one piece, did you?" Roman ventured.

"You KILLED him?" Yang barked.

"Um, no," Roman grumbled. "Never said that, so maybe stop jumping to conclusions."

"I just felt that if his eyes were wanderin' so badly…" Pinstripe leered. "Maybe he didn't actually need both of 'em."

"And my eyes just so happened to be lookin' the other way," Harley added. "Since he dropped some comments about 'the blonde with the assets' and I knew he sure didn't mean me."

Yang shrugged. "Okay. That's actually…I'll let that one slide." And smiled slightly.

"Anyway!" Roman clapped his hands together. "Let's get this show on the road, how about that?"

The group rearranged entirely, getting a safe distance down the hall while Roman and Pinstripe stacked up Nitro crates before the boulder ahead.

"Are we sure this is going to work?" Lailah asked. "Even Laphicet's artes couldn't simply break through, and she's got the powers of an Empyrean."

"What if we tried combining her powers with the bombs?" Molly suggested. "Maybe the two would work together?"

"It's worth trying," Laphicet admitted.

When Roman and Pinstripe returned, Tawna informed them of the new plan; "Let the floaty kid do the detonating. We're hoping to combine the god-powers with the Nitro and cut our time in half."

Roman handed Laphicet an old-fashioned detonator, a dynamo with a plunger. "Knock yourself out, kid."

"Everyone outta the blast range?" Harley called out. "Let's do roll call!"

"No," Roman attempted, "we don't have time for – "

Harley was already pointing. "Yang! Romy! Pinstripe! Archie! Gio!" And they had to let her account for everyone's safety, running through every single name. Then she nodded; "Okay, good to go!" Flashing a thumbs-up.

Laphicet concentrated on feeding her power down through the plunger, into the dynamo. She shoved the plunger down, almost a stabbing motion. The power of Innominat surged through the cords that kept it linked up to the Nitro crates.

At the last second, Molly did the math and gasped. She surrounded everyone in a field of Dumb just before the explosion. Judging by how loud it still was through her muffling, she judged that said explosion would probably have been deafening.

"Nice one, Bear Trap!" Giovanni said after the noise died down.

The dust took a while to clear, but when it did, the whole hallway was now visible, re-carved roughtly out of boulders.

"On to the next!" Snatcher declared, pointing and heading forward. The others followed eagerly.

They repeated the process a few more times. Set up crates, cloak in a Dumb shield, have Laphicet detonate the Nitro. It was highly efficient. They were only slowed down once because Yang and Pinstripe ended up getting in an argument over who had better gun accuracy, and before anyone could stop her, Harley was setting up targets at increasingly further ranges for the both of them to shoot down. No victor was declared by the time Lailah insisted they needed to get back to work for Edna's sake.

"But when we're out of here," Yang muttered, "I'll show you the REAL markswoman around here."

"In your dreams," Pinstripe countered.

BOOM went another stack of Nitro crates.

"So you guys are a total crime husband and wife, huh?" Rose beamed. "I gotta admit I'm jealous!"

"Oh, well, uh, we ain't married," Pinstripe said hurriedly.

"Definitely not," Tawna said, equally hurriedly. "And not, um, planning it or…"

"Ain't in the cards yet – "

"Too soon – "

"Just taking it slow!"

"Oh, how wonderful," Foulfellow snorted. "Stringing the lady along with false promises of marriage, I take it? Even my lies are more honorable than that!"

"Now you shut up and come with me so I can TEACH you a thing or two!" Pinstripe seized Foulfellow's forearm, dragging him away, and now Foulfellow began to think he'd made a mistake.

"It was only a jest, I swear!" he begged. "Perhaps we can cut a deal? There has to be someone you want robbed or gone, right? I could do it for you, but only if I'm still in one piece – "

Pinstripe let go once they were around the corner and out of sight. "Just shut up, okay?" he hissed. "Of course I'm thinkin' about marryin' her someday. After all, wives can't testify against husbands in court! But I can't let on or it'd ruin the surprise! Tawny likes the big gestures, y'know? Whenever I finally pop the question, it's gotta be big, and she can't see it comin'! You got that?"

"Oh, I see!" Foulfellow mellowed into a smirk. "Perhaps there's still a deal to be had. I could slyly find out HOW she'd want to be proposed to, after all."

"Yeah, yeah, maybe I'll take you up on it," Pinstripe mumbled. "For now, just scream or somethin' so they think I taught you an actual lesson."

Meanwhile, Tawna admitted to Rose, "So the truth is, I do wanna be his wife one day. After all, he couldn't testify against me in court if we were married. But I don't wanna make a big thing about it because first of all, I don't wanna pressure him too hard, and more importantly, I don't wanna blow the surprise! If he asks, I want it to catch me completely off guard. It'd be so much more fun that way. So maybe cut the marriage talk?"

"I get it." Rose winked. "That's pretty reasonable. The discussion's off the table."

This was interrupted by the sound of Foulfellow yelling "OH, OOF, OUCH! THAT IS DEFINITELY BROKEN BEYOND REPAIR! CEASE YOUR BATTERY!" and Pinstripe following it up with "Not like THAT, you jerk!"

"Did Pinstripe just bribe John over there to make noise and pretend he got clocked to keep up his tough-guy image?" Rose asked.

"Yyyyyyep," Tawna replied. "Trust me, if he'd ACTUALLY hurt him, we'd know." She smiled. "Oh, we would so know."

"You didn't have a hard time at all transitioning to being a bad girl, did you?" Rose realized.

"What was your first tip-off?" Tawna replied.

Another BOOM of Nitro.

Tawna dictated all her measurements to Snatcher, who took notes furiously. When Giovanni realized what the conversation was about, he gasped, hurtling over. "You're making CLOTHES? WITHOUT ME? You, sir, are making the biggest mistake of your life! By denying my expertise, you're dooming yourself to – to – well, making, a really tacky outfit!"

"Is that so?" Snatcher sighed. He tugged at his coat. "I created this myself, you realize. You doubt my skill?"

"No offense, but it doesn't even fit right," Giovanni pointed out.

"It did once," Snatcher muttered very softly. Then, louder, "But the POINT is the handiwork of the embroidery, and it is still useable, is it not? What've you got to point to your own expertise, hm?"

Giovanni gestured up and down at his yellow Banzai Blaster uniform. "I made THIS."

That gave Snatcher pause. "Cape included?"

"Yep."

"Are such embellishments standard for one of your rank?"

"Nnnnnnope. Gave myself all the cool stuff to set myself apart as captain. I had to break so many company violations to wear the cape, but they let it slide because we were a bunch of evil villains and capes are really just standard for that anyway."

"It's my outfit," Tawna said, "and I say you guys should collaborate. You could make it look even better than the original!"

"Very well," Snatcher relented. "You'll have to come over to our wagon on the next trip, as you've double the ranks we do."

"Chillin' with the hardcore bad guys!" Giovanni squealed, pumping a fist. "YES!"

"Do NOT make me regret this," Snatcher grumbled.

"Now I just gotta figure out a place to get my hair done," Tawna mused. "I'm sure medieval times aren't the best place to pick up hair dye…"

"Actually," Harley piped in, "judging by the stops we made on the way over, there's some WEIRD fashion stuff going on in this world. You can get all kinds of modern clothes and swimsuits and stuff at stores."

"Then why wear all this?" Snatcher gestured at Lailah and Rose.

"Because it's COOLER," Rose argued. "Duh?"

"I feel far prettier in this than I do in simple shirts and pants!" Lailah spread out her arms to do a slow twirl.

"…Point taken." Snatcher had just realized how dumb of a question it was. "Very well. We'll have to make a stop at the next village on our way to the third challenge. Pick up materials and whatnot."

"SHOPLIFTING SPREE!" Giovanni yelled.

"Actually," Yang sighed, "I hate to admit it, but Roman's underhanded drug trade and the crime brigade turning Igraine into a tourist attraction left us with way too much money. We're practically rich right now."

"Awwww, but I wanted to shoplift!" Giovanni pouted.

"Just let the guy steal!" Pinstripe argued. "You can't just put a damper on his dream like that!"

"We should pay for the materials we need to make sure we aren't caught," Elsa said. "Giovanni can…practice his hobby at a less important store."

"WOW, we corrupted you fast," Rose told Elsa.

"I'm – " Elsa put up her hands, flushing. "I'm just trying to be diplomatic for the group I'm in! It doesn't mean I WANT to steal things! I just – just drop it!"

Roman rolled his eyes over to Snatcher: "Deeeee-nial."

"More than just a river," Snatcher agreed slyly.

BOOM. The final boulder was out of the way, and they could proceed into the altar room. Lailah made to run right on in, but suddenly, almost out of nowhere, a small orange streak flipped through the air, landing before them. A booming voice called out "HALT!".

"No," Velvet gasped. "DAMMIT, NO!"

The one who stood in their way was a smallish Normin, bright orange in color. He had his arms folded, and his wide, adorable eyes gave a glare of pure anger and determination.

"Oh, not THIS guy!" Rose yelled.

"You had to fight him too?" Velvet asked.

"YOU DID TOO?" Rose cried.

"Um…can one of you up front just kick him so we can get on with it?" Roman groaned.

"That would be a good way to die," Lailah told him. "Normin Phoenix is incredibly powerful."

"I stand guard here to protect Edna from evildoers!" Phoenix declared. "As was her brother's wish, I am her protector until the end. Unfortunately, it seems that end is coming, with no Shepherd in sight to purify her. She will soon be a dragon, and slayers the world over will venture here to put an end to her. It is my job to stop each and every one of them from taking her life! She may be a monster, but she is still the one I swore to protect! Unless I can trust your intentions, then I won't allow you to take a single step over this threshold, and will defend Edna with my life!"

"Phoenix, it's US," Rose grumbled. "Rose and Lailah. Remember?"

"And I'm one of Eizen's closest friends," Velvet reminded him. "You kicked my ass enough that you should remember that. I wouldn't hurt his sister."

"So you are," Phoenix relented. "But how do I know I can trust your traveling companions?"

"Because we're their FRIENDS," Yang said. "And we want to save Edna too. Well…most of us." She glared to Roman.

"Hey now!" Roman snapped. "Look, there might be a time when I would want to direct a very particular friend of mine with a special interest in dragons over here to put the bitchlet down. But as it stands, I need her alive, intact, and non-dragony in order to get my sidekick back home where she BELONGS. You've caught me and my pals at the ONE time we're actually interested in saving that brat kid, and once she's not a dragon anymore, well, then there's no point in calling up my other buddy for her. That make sense?"

"Hmm." Phoenix thought it over. "A difficult case. I MIGHT let you in on the condition of watching you closely and putting an end to you if you make one wrong move. However…" For once, his confident tone seemed to waver. "It is all useless if there is no Shepherd to purify her."

"Um…I'm the Shepherd," Molly said, hugging her blanket closer around herself. "I came here to help her. Lailah has the Flames of Purification, so that should help too. She and I can work together, and we should be able to get Edna back to normal!"

Phoenix gasped. "The Shepherd?" He leaned in close to her. "So you are! Very well, then." He stepped aside. His tone became far softer than ever it had been his whole life: "Please save her."

The crowd rushed past, but as Roman went by, Phoenix stepped out again, blocking his path. "YOU admitted there is a circumstance under which you would harm Edna!" Phoenix told him. "While I don't doubt your intention is to free her for the purpose of the Shepherd's power, I still have an obligation to protect Edna from the likes of you!"

"Listen here," Roman seethed. "You're gonna let me in or else – "

"Of course I am!" Phoenix's leer was practically villainous. "On one caveat!"

"Wha – "

Before Roman could argue, Phoenix had leapt. In one swift movement, Phoenix was between Roman and his own hat, sitting on a nest of long red-orange hair. Settling the bowler hat over his own puffy cap, Phoenix proclaimed, "ONWARD!"

Roman sighed. "FINE. But you start controlling me by pulling my hair and you're dead."

He rushed in to see everyone else frozen in the gray, rough-hewn altar chamber. Up at the vaulted ceiling, there flew a long, whiplike creature. If they hadn't had it assured that it was not yet an official dragon, the group might have called it such. Its snow-white snake-shaped body, about as thick around as a small pony, was held aloft by pale, batlike wings. Its reptilian head was edged in scales of gold, breathing small plumes of flame. It didn't seem to be attacking – rather squirming around to find a way of escape.

"EDNA!" Molly called up. "WE'RE HERE TO HELP YOU!"

"EDNA!" Lailah yelled. "IT'S ME!"

Edna kept writhing, only now she did go on the offensive, swooping low and breathing a jet of flame at Lailah. Yang and Velvet managed to pull Lailah out of the way, and maybe they weren't quite as proactive as they could've been about the fact that Roman was standing right behind her. Roman, however, ducked with incredible reflexes, letting the fire sail over him.

"Huh!" he remarked as he snapped back to full height. "Never dodged a blast that quick before. And I don't apologize for collateral damage. I think that was a new record for me! Let's see Scorpion Fuckface try and sting me now!"

"…Yes!" Phoenix proclaimed, discreetly smoothing two locks of Roman's hair back into place. "That was definitely your natural skill at work!"

"We need Edna to hold still so Molly and I can purify her!" Lailah called out.

"You want her still?" Pinstripe cocked his machine gun, barrel pointed skyward. "I'll make her stop movin'."

"NO GUNS!" Roman yelled at him. The thought of Symonne's capture weighed heavy on his heart, but Phoenix sitting on his head weighed even heavier. "Put that DOWN, dumbass!"

"You don't tell me what to do!" Pinstripe squeezed the trigger.

Roman turned to Tawna; "Get your boyfriend on a leash!"

"No guns, Stripes," Tawna said sternly.

Pinstripe immediately, obediently lowered the firearm. "Yeah, yeah…"

Then it was Tawna who looked to Roman; "I have an idea. You have a grappling hook too, right?"

Roman nodded, holding up the Melodic Cudgel.

"Get across the room," Tawna told him. "Fire it at me. Go double the length it can actually reach, and trust me. Then follow my lead."

"I think I see what you're actually going for!" Roman declared.

He and Tawna took off running as Edna writhed up high, perpetually seeking a hiding place. When they were at opposite points of the altar room, Tawna and Roman met each other's gaze. She drew the grappling hook at her belt and fired; Roman flipped the Cudgel over in his hand and fired it right back.

The two hooks met in midair, tangling around each other. "BRIDLE!" Tawna yelled, and Roman understood immediately.

"Get her down this way!" Roman yelled back at the crowd. "Someone get out here and be annoying!"

Foulfellow and Snatcher both shoved Giovanni forward. "Really?" Giovanni groaned. Then he jogged up behind the linked hooks, forming a ball of harmless pasta e fagioli soup. "HEY, EDNA!" He launched the sphere at her.

The soup splashed. Edna turned, making a dive down toward Giovanni. As she opened her mouth wide to breathe flame, Tawna and Roman charged, thrusting the linked hooks into her mouth. The cords of the two hooks became a bridle, and Tawna and Roman together leapt up onto Edna's back, using their conjoined weapons to steer her like a horse.

"DO IT NOW!" Roman yelled as Edna bucked, trying to shake her riders.

"THIS IS YOUR OPPORTUNITY!" Phoenix agreed. "SAVE HER ONCE AND FOR ALL!"

Molly and Lailah stepped forward, back-to-back. Molly let her blanket fall away. Lailah and Molly put out their arms together; a white light formed from where their palms pressed to the air. Then a whoosh of silver-white flame burst out toward Edna.

Edna's eyes widened as she was swallowed by the fire. For Roman and Tawna, everything went white, and the next thing they knew, they were falling to the ground.

Pinstripe charged, arriving underneath Tawna just in time to neatly catch her in a bridal carry. Snatcher also charged, arriving underneath Roman just in time for Roman's descent to knock him completely over to the ground, albeit with a more cushioned fall.

The flames subsided, leaving a human-shaped figure in their wake. In the center of the altar room stood a skinny girl, looking to be the same age as Molly, her hair the same golden color as Eizen's. She was clothed in a pure white sundress with a yellow camisole underneath; the straps of both were falling off her shoulder on one side. Her hair was short, but still swept up into a ponytail on the left side of her head, a green ribbon wrapped around. She held a lacy parasol up over and behind her head. Her wide blue eyes stared at the others in wonder – and then quickly scowled into disgruntlement.

"I had things under control, you know," she sighed. Her voice tended to make people think she was perpetually tired, or perpertually bored, or both. "I could've done that without you all poking at me and throwing things."

"Oh, EDNA!" Lailah was unable to hold herself back, surging forth to hug the child tightly. "Edna, it's you! You're back!"

"How many times are we gonna have to do this where you think I've turned into a dragon?" Edna sighed, her face pressed up to Lailah's midsection. She didn't hug back.

Molly approached, a nervous smile on her face. "Uh…hi," she said. "So, um…I'm the Shepherd, and I was wondering if you wanted to form a pact with me? And…and maybe be friends? Not the friends part if you don't want to, of course!"

Lailah finally let Edna loose, and Edna surveyed Molly. Though they were peers in their physical age, Edna was quite a bit taller than Molly. "You're a little short for a Shepherd," she said. "But I guess I should thank you. So thanks. There, I did it. Anyway, I'm guessing you don't have an earth Sub Lord yet. Looks like it's up to me to save the day. Again. Sure, I'll do the pact. As for friends, it's not that I want to or anything, but you look like you need all the friends you can get anyway, so sure, why not?" She sighed. "Lailah, do the thing."

Lailah led the two of them in reciting incantations, culminating in Molly stating Edna's true name, "Hephsin Yulind." After which Molly remarked, "It's a really pretty name."

"Heh." Edna smirked. "It is, isn't it?"

"Oh!" Molly turned to wave Laphicet over. "Laphi! Come here! Edna, this is Laphicet! Laphicet's…um…"

"A girl today," Laphicet stated.

"Oh, no, I remembered that part," Molly laughed nervously. "It's more like…um…is 'friend' the best word or…?"

Laphicet caught herself blushing. So they'd both been reading the signs from each other after all. She half considered just saying something about it to clear the air then and there, but she'd also overheard what Pinstripe and Tawna had said about grand surprise proposals, and knew there needed to be a time and place for this that was much more dramatic. "I would say that's accurate now," she said simply. Then nodded to Edna. "Please be nice to Molly, or I won't take it lightly."

"Oh, right," Edna realized. "You're the prequel to Maotelus. My brother told me all about you in his letters. So wordy. I thought you were on the bad guy side."

"I'm somewhere in between," Laphicet told her. "But the important thing is I'm on YOUR side now."

"You better hold to that," Edna said. "I'm not afraid to fight a god, after all."

Laphicet nodded. An understanding passed between the two of them.

"Edna." Velvet stepped forward. "There's something you need to know. About your brother."

Edna bristled. "What?"

"He's alive," Velvet said. "I br – "

"You better stop kidding around!" Edna snapped, angered. "What, do you think that's some kind of funny joke? You know I killed him myself, right? It wasn't like I had a choice! He was already a dragon!"

"No." Velvet shook her head. "You don't understand. Eizen is here. We were in a dream together, and I met a version of him that was a perfect memory. He's a Dream Eater now, and he – "

Edna turned her back, umbrella dome sticking out toward Velvet like a wall between them. "I don't like your friend's sense of humor," she said pointedly to Molly.

"I'M NOT LYING!" Velvet stamped a foot.

"I'll believe it when I see it," Edna snapped.

"WHY WON'T YOU – " Velvet attempted, only to have Snatcher grab her forearm and spin her round to face him.

"You heard the young lady," Snatcher said with a great forced smile. "She'll believe it when she sees it. Shame on you for telling such awful lies."

"But I wasn't – "

He dropped to a whisper; "She's about to see it eventually, is she not? At which point she will believe it. Until then, you're NOT to ruin this for the rest of us!" He paused. "Where's your hat gone?"

Velvet glowered as she retrieved the red top hat from an inventory bag and settled it atop her head. "Now will you leave me alone?"

"Quite stunning, Miss Crowe, if I do say so myself. Proceed."

Velvet sighed. "I'm sorry for that just now," she said loudly. "It was just my dumb idea of a prank."

"You better be sorry," Edna huffed.

"All right, let's not waste time on the small talk," Roman barked. "Two down, two to go. Which way next, Snow Queen?"

"There are two voices," Elsa reported. "One is closer, and one's more distant. The one that's close to us is deep and masculine. It's coming from…" She pointed. "That direction."

"I think I get the pattern now," Rose realized. "We found Lailah at the fire shrine, and Edna's here at the earth shrine. That voice can only be Zaveid, and that's the way to the wind shrine. I'll bet you anything that means Mikleo's at the water shrine."

"Normally, when someone says 'I'll bet you anything,' I jump on it," Roman said, "but the logic's sound, so that'd be a losing game." He poked Phoenix in the gut. "Also, are you ever gonna get down from there?"

"Of course!" Phoenix threw Roman's hat high, doing a double somersault in the air to land with a big finish before Edna. Roman's hat drifted down to settle onto his head the way it belonged. "I shall resume my position as your guardian!" Phoenix declared.

"Whatever," Edna sighed. "Just get on the umbrella already."

Phoenix leapt up to the silken dome. There, he tied himself to a dangling string, and then fell completely still, taking on the appearance of a simple plush charm. One might've thought he was dead, and Roman actually liked pretending that was the case.

"If that is all," Snatcher declared, "then we shall be off. After all, there are lost souls to collect and clothes to be made!"

The group headed back out through where the boulders had been blown. At the gate, they passed by Pawan – a normally exciteable man in white robes and a golden mask, but now much more subdued and trembling.

"Oh, g-good!" he stammered quickly. "You found what you came for. That's wonderful! Now g-goodb-bye!"

Yang gave a sigh when she noticed the bandage under his mask. "Okay, flattering as it is, it wasn't right to gouge this guy's eye out," she sighed. Then she turned to him. "Honestly, I'm sorry, and if we can get you a lift to a doctor or something – "

"Oh, no, it'll be fine!" Pawan shook his hands. "After all, a few gels will probably fix it up. Hopefully. After all, how can I hope to see both of the glories of your bosom with only one eye? Though I suppose I do still have both ha-aaands!"

Yang rethought it. Then socked him in the mask. He went flying. "Yeah, no, I'm fine with mutilation just this once. JUST THIS ONCE." She passed by Harley. "The girls missed YOUR hands, by the way."

"Oooh, I was hopin' to hear that!" Harley jigged out alongside Yang.

"You know, we could make a villain of her yet," Snatcher teased Roman.

"Oh, JOY," Roman grunted. "She'd hate me AND have no morals? Somehow you made it worse. Go ahead, laugh at my pain."

Snatcher did chuckle, since getting a rise out of Roman was indeed a little entertaining, but then gave him a pat on the shoulder. "She's the worst of the lot, of course."

"Yeah."

"I'm certain you'd rather put up with literally any of the others."

"You guessed it."

"I'm certain even Mr. Potage's company would be a blessing if you considered that you were separated from Miss Xiao – "

"He's riding in our wagon to help you with the outfit, isn't he?" Roman sighed. "Yeah, I'll allow it. But I get a cut of any soup made in the effort."

...

Aghoul and Mim started by taking their flock to Niffleheim via the Bifrost. A venture that had involved pranking Heimdall in order to get past. Normally, this was impossible, but this group had access to endless bouquets of red roses, heart-shaped boxes of chocolate, horrific nightmares about Eldritch concepts, a Star-Striker, and a megaphone.

(You're better off not knowing the exact details.)

Now, in a dark realm of snow and ice, Aghoul led the trek. "There's the Hall of Nastrond, everyone!" he pointed out. "If we had longer to live, I'd suggest we stop for a tour, but we've got places to be."

"How can you be so casual about this?" Coco barked. "We're dying!"

"Oh, what's an adventure without a little mortal peril?" Aghoul scoffed. "It hardly means anything if we get it resolved anytime before the last and most dramatic possible moment. Besides, I've already sent a message to Mozenrath that he's to revive us all if he doesn't hear from us in about a week. I also asked him how his little death tournament is going, and he just yelled at me in all capital letters, so no updates there."

"I would so love to see the Hall of Nastrond," Mim said wistfully. "They say only the most horrible torments conceived of by gods take place there. It's got to be a lovely place to get inspiration!"

"I'm certain I can devise worse," Carrion grumbled.

"Ooh, Mr. Big Talk," Whisp jeered.

"Ayam," Valentine broke in, "with all due respect, where are we goin'?"

"Well, I'm not sure just yet," Aghoul told him. "Hell is notoriously difficult to break into. There are stories told of people who've spent months trying to get in and back out again. There are ways, however. First of all, that being that all afterlives are connected in some respect. There's got to be a passage from one-L Hel to two-Ls Hell."

"Just thank your lucky stars Hela isn't home," Mim added. "If she ever got let out of her prison, why, then we'd really be in for it! But that shouldn't be a worry."

"The other advantage we have is my own connections," Aghoul said. "I have somewhat of a network among demons and the more malicious minor divinities. If there's one thing to be said in favor of the Netherworld, it's the friends I've made there. Have I ever told you about them, Mimsy? We practically had our own little WHAM ARMY in play. Of course, I haven't kept in touch since Aladdin started toying with me and I had my own business to focus on, and from there, I suppose it's just sort of slipped my mind since I've found the better option after all. That said, it will be nice to reunite with…well, most of them."

"Wait," Whisp realized. "How can you have any connection to Hell? Religiously speaking, you should be bound for Jahannam instead."

"Hell and Jahannam are practically neighbors," Aghoul explained. "Abrahamic cousins and all. If we were in Jahannam right now, the passage would be easy to find. Moreover, since I'm NOT slated for Hell itself, and this is all in the official Underworld paperwork, that means Hell royalty has no power over me legally! I was able to make good friends with the embodiment of Lust itself, seeing as he couldn't do anything to me on his turf! His territory is actually where we're going. There are a couple singers on his stage I think will be just enough to counteract that cad Caleb Covington!"

"So right now, we're just wandering around until an unefined variable falls into our lap," Sho grumbled.

"Pretty much," Aghoul replied.

Sho wrapped his arms around himself. "The temperature here feels like absolute zero!"

"Oh, it can actually get down that cold," Aghoul informed him. "Makes it a good change of pace after spending too long in one of the HOT realms."

"I wish a boat would arrive to ferry us there," Letheo said through chattering teeth.

"A boat?" Shape sneered. "All we've seen is land!"

"Snow is frozen water," Letheo murmured. He really didn't know what kind of vehicle you took across long distances if you weren't on an archipelago.

"I think a better option for us would be a train," Valentine offered. "Think of it: a nice, warm train with a dining car servin' up hot food."

"Trains?" Coco chirped. "Who said trains? I LIKE TRAINS!"

On perfect cue, a train hit Aghoul.

Thankfully, he was the only one hit, since he was in the lead. He was carried on the locomotive's grill for what seemed a couple miles before the train finally jolted to a stop, realizing someone had been hit.

At the same time, Mim had taken on the form of a purple convertible in order to catch everyone else up to the train. She pulled up, everyone spilled out, and she became human again.

"Well." Aghoul peeled himself off the train, popping a few bones back into place. "THAT was certainly a way to travel."

A short, slight figure hopped off the roof of the train – not out of the locomotive, but off the roof – and jogged over toward him. "Ayam Aghoul?" The voice that sounded was masculine but soft, almost innocent-sounding. "AYAM AGHOUL!"

"Wait," Aghoul realized. "That voice. It can't be!"

He gasped to see the entity that rushed toward him in joy. A most bizarre man, whose raven hair faded to pink and teal at the ends. He wore a black suit, a long jacket slitted to show off his pinstriped pants. His face was marked with several yellow dots, and the backs of his hands were split by toothy human mouths, one for each hand. If one looked closely enough into his luminous baby-blue eyes, they would see kanji inscribed there, marking him as "lower."

"ENMU!" Aghoul cried joyfully. "AS I DON'T LIVE OR BREATHE!"

"AYAM AGHOUL, I can't believe it's you!" The new arrival, Enmu, scooped Aghoul into a bear hug and spun him around twice. "It's been so long! What HAVE you been up to? We've all been gossiping, you know! And occasionally spying, I'll admit, but you had to know that."

"All?" Aghoul repeated as Enmu set him down. "You mean everyone else still meets up at the old haunt?"

"Your seat's still reserved!" Enmu said with a grand smile. "We've been hoping you'd come back! Well, most of us…" He sighed, hanging his head. "Gregory still hasn't come back. Not even after your absence. We've tried to lure him back, but he knows a mousetrap when he sees one."

"Makes sense for that old rat," Aghoul huffed.

"Are you just going to stand there gabbing, or are you going to introduce me?" Mim barked.

"Oh! How rude of me!" Aghoul laughed. "Enmu, this is Mim, my other half! One of them, anyway."

"I was about to express my surprise that one woman could tie you down," Enmu chuckled.

"Oh, she ties me down very well indeed," Aghoul told him. "With chains, weights, and sometimes spikes as well."

"A displeasure to meet you!" Mim curtsied.

"And these are our friends," Aghoul added. "Let's see, there's Sho Minamimoto, Coco Atarashi, Christopher Carrion, Mendelson Shape, Letheo, Valentine, and Whisp Grant! We're on a little mission to try and unmask the false king of Asgard, but first we have to take care of this little annoyance." He held up his hand, the back to Enmu, showing off the mark.

Enmu sighed. "Covington. He never quite knows when to stop. Can you believe he's tried to get Ozzie's shut down?"

"NO!" Aghoul gasped.

"We all know he just wants Ozzie out so he can move in with his own club!" Enmu lamented. "One built specifically to outshine him! And with NOWHERE reserved for intercourse! Ozzie's fit to be tied!"

"In the LUST ring?" Aghoul gasped. "A PG-only club? Well, I never!"

"HEY!" Coco yelled. "Are you gonna tell us who the fancy man is or what?"

"Right, right," Aghoul realized. "Everyone, this is one of my friends from past Netherworld endeavors that I talked about. Enmu is a demon, though one of his own making." He then gave Enmu a once-over. "Something's different about you, though."

"I am dead now," Enmu stated. "That's probably what you're noticing."

"So it is!" Aghoul realized. "Well, congratulations on joining the ranks! But you know we always liked to sneak you in regardless. Demons are demons, after all, even if that pesky blood donor of yours didn't agree!"

"I'm also not the body you're looking at," Enmu explained. "This is a construct that makes interaction simpler. My REAL body is right here!" He gestured to the train.

"You're…on the train and not coming out," Whisp sighed.

"No!" Enmu clasped his toothy hands together in glee. "I AM the train now! And I can travel through any afterlife!"

Everyone's eyes widened at once.

"What?" Enmu asked. "Did I say something wrong? That's not the power I primarily use, you know. If you were hoping that I was more sinister, I do indeed cause massacres by entering others' dreams and destroying their souls from the inside out. Is that more impressive?"

"We were just looking for a free ride to Hell!" Mim blurted. "Here we were half convinced we were just going to walk circles in Niffleheim until we froze over!"

"YOU WOULD NOT HAVE MADE ME DO THAT," Carrion snarled, as though his demands could change past intentions.

"Hell will be an easy ride!" Enmu said cheerily. "Let me guess: Ozzie's? He can undo Covington's stamps in the snap of a finger, you know."

"You've got it!" Aghoul replied. "And I'd love to get to introduce my new friends to him. It almost feels like I've been holding out, not letting them meet the crew."

"Well, lucky for you, I was just about to go pick them all up!" Enmu informed him. "We were overdue for a night out, and Ozzie has half the club cleared out for us! We're going to make a scene Hell itself won't forget!"

"And I'm guessing a certain succubus and her guitar are going to be playing tonight…" Aghoul winked.

"They'd be more than happy to put Covington in his place, if that's what you're thinking!" Enmu affirmed. "Well, let's not wait around any longer! Everyone aboard!"

He danced and twirled into the first car. Aghoul jogged after, waving the group on; "Come on! We can kill time and Loki later!". Everyone else followed.

"So this is a train," Letheo said in awe, walking flush to Valentine.

"Your first?" Valentine replied. "I suppose. You grew up knowin' only islands, after all. I guarantee you're gonna like what you see in there." He envisioned a warm, stable vehicle with excellent interior design.

He and Letheo then stepped right into a tunnel of pulsating flesh shot through with multicolored veins, a heartbeat pounding throughout. Valentine would've called foul and assumed a trap, except there actually were train seats lined up here. This was indeed the train. Enmu had simply redecorated when he'd possessed it.

"I…ah…" Valentine was struck speechless, disgusted.

"You were right!" Letheo cried. "I love it!"

Valentine's expression softened. "Let's go find a place to sit, shall we?"

Aghoul's group sat in a cluster on one side of the fleshy car. "Who had money on the pretty boy being a giant intestine monster?" Whisp asked.

"What, you didn't KNOW?" Aghoul was legitimately surprised.

From overhead, as though on a PA system, Enmu's voice sounded out: "Is everyone secure in their seats? We're taking off regardless!"

The train jolted, then began to chug along. It actually was a smooth-moving vehicle, Valentine thought. Then he shook his head. He had to stop thinking of it as an "it" or even a train. He was riding in a demon with a name and pronouns.

"Can I provide music?" Enmu asked. "Do you want the usual?"

"Of course I do!" Aghoul told him.

Enmu's voice was now backed up by a track of thumping dance music. "Our old favorites mixed!" he declared.

"I like your friends already!" Mim laughed.

"I should've introduced you long ago," Aghoul sighed. He then settled back in his seat, hands behind his head. "Oh, Enmu, can I request one little detour? There's a couple certain someones I'd like to pick up from the Ghost Zone."

"I was on my way there anyway!" Enmu revealed. "You'll never guess who got banished."

Aghoul laughed, slapping his knee. "Oh, WHY am I not surprised? What did him in THIS time?"

"Well, it's a long story, really," Enmu revealed. "It's been all the latest drama down here. The Chessmen incident."

"Hey!" Sho realized. "That's OUR coefficients!"

"Our friendos!" Coco clarified. "The ones we left the Death Bombs for!"

"I could give you the details," Enmu said, "but it's a LONG story indeed."

"We'll be needing that time to tell our long story instead!" Mim snapped. "I'm certain it's longer! They can tell us themselves whenever they catch up."

Then Aghoul's scroll beeped: a notification set to sound like a church organ having all its black keys smashed at once. "Oh?" Aghoul took out the device to look at its screen. "Well, I'll be! Enmu, we need to make one more stop. I've got a friend who just texted me asking how to get to the exact same place we're going! He says he's got a portal open to summon demons, but it doesn't quite go all the way!"

"A gateway portal did just open up at Vie de Marli," Enmu informed him. "That's not far. We can be there in half a minute!"

Aghoul texted "be there in 30 X-)" before declaring, "Full speed ahead!"

...

The Wind Shrine, Guinevere, was located off the beaten path of Westronbolt Gorge. And to say that Westronbolt Gorge was at all a beaten path was a lofty claim. Several times, the Heathens' and WHAM ARMY's wagons nearly pitched right off the edge into the deep ravine. Finally, however, they were parked on solid ground in a rocky alcove. The Wind Shrine rose before them.

Igraine had been deep. Morgause had been wide. But Guinevere was tall. It stretched to the heavens, so many stories high. The Heathens wagon was the first to disembark; they gaped at the sight overhead.

"This place sure hasn't changed," Edna droned.

"It's beautiful," Molly gasped.

"Let me guess," Velvet sighed. "We have to climb all the way to the top."

"That we do." Lailah nodded.

Then there was the first set of footfalls from the WHAM ARMY wagon; "Well? What do you think?"

"It's stinkin' tall is what we think," Harley said.

"No, not about the shrine! My outfit!"

Everyone turned to get a good look at Tawna. She now looked the spitting image of the time duplicate she remembered, and in that, even more like a villain than ever. Patched blue jeans were bordered by a hot-pink tee and leg warmers of the same pink, sloughing over brown-and-pink sneakers. Over it all were a short jacket, gloves, two belts and a holster for the grappling hook, all in brown leather. Tawna's hair had been cut into a striking mohawk, alternating locks dyed sea-blue. Finally, she'd put a couple extra earrings into one ear.

Harley gave a wolf whistle. "Lookin' goo-ood!"

"Nice," Yang agreed. "Giovanni did a good job."

"Damn right I did." Giovanni trotted up to the group. "So what're we looking at? …Wow, that thing's tall."

"Mr. Potage!" Snatcher followed after. "You'd better not be taking all the credit for my handiwork on Miss Bandicoot!"

Roman, Foulfellow, Gideon, and Pinstripe were close to follow. "So what're we lookin' at here?" Roman asked, giving the building a once-over. He noticed the walkway that stuck out of the top, connecting to nothing but thin air. "What, did they make people walk the plank off a landlocked building?"

"Wow," Rose scoffed. "Every time I think you can't hit a new low. Don't talk about it like that! That was a suicide drop for seraph worshipers."

"A lot of people stupidly believed that us seraphs were a death cult that wanted their lives as sacrifice," Edna sniffed. "Idiots. Then again, there were probably a few that took advantage of it."

Roman was struck silent a moment.

("We…we were different from other seraphs. We were like what you're talking about, taking what we wanted, encouraging humanity to sacrifice for our benefit. We…we demanded they sacrifice their own lives for our glory and use. But this attracted the malevolence. They became dragons. I had to watch them be slain by other seraphs. I pleaded with them to stop, but they wouldn't…they said that the evil and malevolent had to die, and there was no other way. But they wouldn't kill me because I hadn't been corrupted…somehow. I still don't know how I don't bear malevolence, because I never wanted the alternative they proffered, of being one of them…I…I missed the way we were!")

He almost didn't notice when Snatcher appeared at his side. "You think they were leaping for her clan?"

"Dunno," Roman replied softly. "Even if it was, not sure if she'd want it preserved for nostalgia's sake or blown to hell."

"I suppose we're now looking at the shoes we're to fill," Snatcher mused.

"Pretty big shoes, huh?" Roman teased. He turned back to Rose; "So how far up?"

"The whole way," Rose told him. "The altar's on the roof. What, did you think the upper floors were just decoration?"

"I THOUGHT they were for suicide," Roman reiterated. "So is there a magic elevator ooooooor…"

"No," Edna replied. "We have to climb and also solve puzzles to open the way to the top. But don't worry. The spinny-mist thing will sure get the job done."

"Nope!" Roman threw up his hands. "Noooope, nope, nope nope nope nope. Not schlepping all the way up there. Not when there's such a convenient workaround right in front of us!"

"Are you saying I should make ice stairs to the top?" Elsa realized.

"No, because that's still stairs," Roman retorted. "I am not doing stairs the whole way. No, I'm talking about the path of least resistance." He gestured from the bottom of the building to the top. "Straight up!"

"Oh, because we can all just fly up there," Velvet grumbled.

"Maybe not NOW," Roman argued. "But one of the people on my to-do list? He's got a ride. You let me go pick him up and I can cut our climb time in half."

"Are we gonna trust this?" Yang asked.

Edna had already sat down in the grass. "I don't feel like stairs today."

"He's gonna play nice as long as Symonne's involved," Harley reminded Yang. "If he tries anything funny again, I'll deck him."

"I can hear you," Roman said.

"You were s'posed to," Harley replied.

"All right, WHAM ARMY!" Roman called. "Circle up!"

And so they did: Snatcher, Foulfellow, Giovanni, Gideon, Pinstripe, Tawna –

Wait.

Roman pointed at Giovanni. "I said WHAM ARMY."

"Yeah, but you're the cool guys," Giovanni whined. "I wanna hang out with you more! Your wagon was fun! No offense to my pals, but that whole 'Hi-Diddle-De-Dee' song was such a breath of fresh soup after so many road trip sing-alongs of 'Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer."

"Did you just say 'a breath of fresh soup'?" Pinstripe realized.

"You guys took Harley on the last field trip!" Giovanni continued to argue. "Can't I be your guest party member for this one? I can help you! You know I'm good with a Soul-Slugger Doom Bat, and I have way more durability than any of you, and I can make soup, like, whenever!"

"He wasn't TERRIBLE company," Snatcher pointed out.

"We're practically family!" Giovanni motioned between himself and Snatcher. "I'm dating his daughter and he doesn't even wanna shoot me!"

"That's because Miss Inlustris IS NOT – "

"Pretty pretty pretty pleeeeaaaase?" Giovanni whimpered. "I didn't even advertise my best superpower of them all!"

"What, the power of friendship?" Roman scoffed.

"The power of friendship," Giovanni said proudly. "I mean – wait. No. You just said that mockingly, didn't you? It's actually, uh, X-ray lava vision. And no, I won't explain what that is!"

Roman held up a hand, palm out. "I'm just gonna put an end to this discussion right here, right now. I SHOULD say a flat no. I really, really should. After all, I would like a night out where we can do public murder for once."

"I mean, I'm not completely opposed to it so long as the people we kill so totally deserve it," Giovanni argued.

"Somehow I doubt you're that cold-blooded," Roman told him. "But at the end of the day…" He sighed. "You make a killer chicken ramen soup with zero prep time, and I hate to admit this, but the last two times we went off-world, I've been this close to being so hangry that I'm not even possible to work with. So you're coming along but only as our soup monkey. And if we need an extra thug. Also, don't try and play the noble card when we're doing vile things. Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah!" Giovanni nodded. "I'll be good! I mean bad. I'll be very, VERY bad. Good at being bad."

"You'll be good at getting snacks is what you'll be," Roman said. "In fact, once we land, I'm gonna have you cook up a peace offering for the guy. He's a pirate, so whatever pirates eat is fair game."

"I mean, I do this really mean shrimp and scallop soup with dill and orzo," Giovanni said.

"Perfect!" Roman replied. "Now, unless any OTHER Heathens wanna try and horn on this and get SHOT DOWN IMMEDIATELY – "

"Nope!" Harley declared, latching onto Yang. "Stayin' with my girl this time!"

"Then we're out of here." Roman linked arms with Snatcher and Tawna. Everyone else made physical contact to close the circle. Then Roman dialed in the specifications on his teleporter.

In a flash, they were gone.

"Pirates, huh?" Harley repeated. "Wonder what sea they're goin' to."

"He really wanted us to pick up on the part about flying," Velvet pointed out. "I don't think they're regular old pirates."

...

Everburn's flock pulled in for a landing at the Isle of Dragons, made of a fusion of cloud and rock that climbed into spiky peaks. A volcano rested at the center, like the one at the Rainbow Palisades minus the water aspect. This was a land of fire alone.

The journey into the sky had been nothing short of breathtaking. Even as Everburn and his dragon companions led Sofia, Ven, Papyrus, Stork, and Rapunzel through the roadways of the isle, Rapunzel couldn't stop pointing and gasping at other isles she sighted off the coast, floating in the misty clouds. This got the others to all look, and inevitably it would become a distraction for half a minute.

"We gotta hurry!" Everburn insisted. "We need to check in with the dragon leaders at the volcano. They'll have some idea of what's going on!"

Eventually, they did make it into the volcano through a network of cozy caverns. An audience chamber held the stone thrones where the dragon leaders rested. It seemed, however, that someone else had gotten there first.

"They managed to clear out the entire Hall of Protectors!" Chrysta was explaining in a tizzy. "I'm the only one I know who got away. The council, though? Orion, Vega, Garish, Galial, Turon? They all got captured and turned into crystal!"

"She must be talking about Prisma!" Sofia realized.

"Hey!" Ven broke in, running up to her. "Are you talking about a bunch of villains who came up here to take over?"

"Yeah," Chrysta replied. "Prisma up to her old tricks, except she's got some powerful gal pals and dumb hired muscle around this time. They turned the Isle of Protectors into some kind of 'Yzmatopia,' and they're claiming the whole of the Mystic Isles is their empire now!"

"Yzma," Stork repeated. "Yep. It's them."

"Why don't you all talk it out while we have a conference?" Everburn suggested, proceeding to the governing dragons. At his suggestion, Chrysta stepped aside along with the other non-dragons.

"How'd you get here?" Chrysta asked. "Wait. You're from the Everrealm!"

"I am," Sofia affirmed. "My friends are from different worlds."

"Really!" Chrysta's eyes widened.

"Corona!" Rapuunzel said cheerily.

"Atmos," Stork said proudly.

"I COME FROM THE DEPTHS OF MT. EBOTT," Papyrus declared.

"I'm…from all over the place, kinda," Ven muttered. After what he'd learned and considering all he'd experienced, he wasn't too keen on calling the Land of Departure his point of origin.

"We came here to stop Prisma and her…what were they called?" Sofia said.

"The WHAM ARMY," Ven reiterated.

"So that's what they call themselves!" Chrysta seethed. She then looked over the group of five; "You sure don't look like much. Did you not hear me say they overtook the whole Hall of Protectors? What are YOU gonna do that the Protectors couldn't?"

"Um, rude," Stork piped in.

"We're powerful," Ven asserted. "Maybe you'll recognize this." He put out his hand, and into it shimmered Wayward Wind.

Chrysta gasped, pressing both hands to her mouth. "I haven't seen one of those outside history books," she said softly. "I was beginning to think they were just a made-up legend. That's the weapon of the protectors of the Protectors."

"I'm not a Master," Ven said, "but I've fought powerful enemies with it before. And I have my friends with me, too. We're all pretty strong. Rapunzel is the Sundrop, Stork is the helmsman of a squad of Sky Knights, and Papyrus is an awesome warrior."

"Don't forget Sofia!" Rapunzel ventured. "She stopped Princess Ivy, remember?"

Chrysta raised a brow. "Oh, I've heard of Princess Sofia." Then she panned her gaze to Rapunzel. "And Corona's Sundrop. Frankly, I'm a little concerned if you think this is a job that pampered princesses can handle. This isn't gonna be a walk in the park, you know."

"Why would you say that?" Sofia gasped.

"Um…no offense, but that was kind of…" Rapunzel began.

"Awful, condescencing, biased, impolite, uncalled-for, take your pick," Stork said with a glare. "Look. Rapunzel is one of the strongest people you could have on this. I wouldn't be the idiot who turns her away if I were you. Just saying."

"WE'RE ALL STRONGER THAN YOU THINK," Papyrus said. "ESPECIALLY SOFIA. SHE'S SAVED MANY PARTS OF THIS VERY WORLD!"

Chrysta sighed. "Look. I appreciate the help, but I'm not gonna send a bunch of unprepared rookies into this situation. You guys end up hurt and that's on my conscience. A Keybearer might stand a chance…even if a Master would be better…but the only real people here on the Isles who might've been up to it were the Protectors, if they'd known what was coming. And Protectors aren't just any old somebody. They have training, they have magic, they have special tools that help them with sticky situations. All our Protectors might've started out where you are, but they had to go through trials to become the best Protectors they could be!"

"So…why don't we do those same trials?" Ven asked. "Could we learn the magic, and figure out how to use the tools?"

"Yes!" Rapunzel gasped. "We can become the new Protectors! Just until we get the old ones free."

"I dunno…" Chrysta sighed. "Technically, it's possible. But I don't think we have the time to waste on it."

"What exactly is your other option here?" Stork asked. "I'm kind of getting the sense that it's training us on one hand and certain doom on the other."

"Well…" Chrysta thought it over. "If I could just…I mean, there has to be…if I just work hard and keep my eyes open…" She sighed and slumped. "You're right. I don't have another plan."

"Please help us become Protectors, Chrysta," Sofia urged. "You're the only one who knows how! You can help us save the Mystic Isles, but we can't do it without you!"

"All right," Chrysta relented. "Now, I still have my doubts. If you can't hack it, I'm gonna have to call this whole thing off, okay?"

"Way to not put any pressure on us," Stork grumbled.

"WELL, WE CAN RISE TO IT!" Papyrus declared.

"You won't be disappointed in us," Ven swore. "I promise."

"Right," Chrysta replied. "Well, if we're gonna do this, then we gotta start now. First lesson is on the Isle of Forever Frost to get your Enchantlets and officialize your Protector status. Flying isn't exactly safe right now; we're sure they have the air patrolled. We'll have to go on foot and take a roundabout way through the back bridges that connect the Isles."

"SOUNDS LIKE AN ADVENTURE!" Papyrus declared. "AND PERHAPS THIS MEANS WE CAN SEE SOME OF THOSE OTHER COOL ISLES UP CLOSE! THE ONES WE NOTICED ON THE WAY, I MEAN."

"This is no sightseeing tour," Chrysta reminded him. "But…you will get to pass by some of the more important places. I won't lie about that. Now let's go!"

She left at a brisk pace, and the others knew they were expected to keep up, trotting after her.

All of this was seen through a crystal sphere that transmitted the scene like a television program into the new Yzmatopia palace. Yzma, Wuya, Prisma, and Mera gathered up around; they'd set Indus, Cloak, Dagger, Undertow, the Lobster Mobster, and Shrimp on servant duty throughout the palace.

"Oh, so the little girl thinks she can become a protector," Yzma mocked. "How adorable."

"I almost say we let her go through with it," Mera said. "Just to show her the league she and her friends are playing in. Buuuuuut a little girl and her hyperactive friend kicked my ass hard last time and just about sent me to the ER instead of police custody, so I'm not gonna make THAT mistake again."

"We should stop them," Prisma said with a scowl. "Or they're going to ruin everything!"

"It's too bad we don't have a 'Protector' of our own to counter them," Wuya said slyly. "Someone who claimed to be fighting for the Mystic Isles, but was actually working for us. Someone who could swipe those Enchantlets right out from under their noses."

"There's got to be some way to stop this," Yzma hissed. "Wait. Ohhhh, I know. We hire a 'Protector' of our own. We have them claim to be fighting for the Mystic Isles, but they're actually working for US. Then they go to that Isle of Forever Frost and take the Enchantlet right out from under their noses!"

"That's just what – " Prisma began.

"Shhhh," Wuya hissed. "Let her have her moment."

"It's brilliant, brilliant, BRILLIANT!" Yzma declared. "And what's more…I know exactly who must be the face of our movement. A little girl who can capture hearts as easily as Princess Sofia. Someone who can convince all of the Isles that she's their little angel. Someone who – "

She halted, noticing who was missing. Then realizing that this entire time, Morgana had been off to the side of the room, using the trident to shoot streaks of lime green through the purple of Yzmatopia.

"MUST you do that?" Yzma spat. "Who do you think this palace belongs to? Mysterio?"

"Well, sor-ry for copying the style of someone I'VE NEVER EVEN HEARD OF!" Morgana yelled back. "But really, tell me this doesn't look better."

"It DOESN'T – " Yzma began. Then she took a moment to let it sink in. The colors actually did gel well. No wonder Mysterio liked this palette. "…look as bad as I thought it would. Carry on."

...

Asgore was lashed to a wooden stake, propped up in the midst of a town square that was cordoned off for the execution alone. It had been the Huntsman's idea.

"That's barbaric," Jihl had said. "I love it."

Now the once-mighty king of the monsters trembled in fear as he was bound, waiting for justice to be served to him. Barricades of concrete were set up around the square, with only Jihl, the Huntsman, Mozenrath, Albel, and Miratrix within the pen with Asgore.

Outside were two entirely different sorts of riots. Legions of people who were ready to revel in the victory of watching the monsters' king die, whooping and yelling with murder in their eyes. And then there were the ones who wanted to stop the execution. Really, all the monsters had, but just this once, Toriel had ordered everyone not in the chosen squad to camp out in Mt. Ebott. After all, she knew the humans would be getting violent. Only the best of the best could afford to be on the field and look out for each other that day.

It was her, Sans, Mettaton, Mew Mew, Undyne, and Alphys representing the monsters. Then Frisk had come with their parents to stand on the opposite side, but immediately broke away, having used their parents' radicalism as a free ride to get to where they were really going. Toriel was ready to rip Frisk's parents limb from limb if they tried to cross to the other side, and for once, Frisk didn't feel like stopping her. Then the humans who allied to the cause, the attendees of the rally, crowded behind them, trying to break down the concrete with sledgehammers and small fireworks. Sans, being Sans as usual, just held up a picket sign with "stop" lazily scrawled on it, though his heart was as much in it as anyone else. Dan Lyons became a ringleader for the humans on this side, yelling words of encouragement, which inspired Mettaton to yell his own words of encouragement even louder.

However, it wasn't enough. Mozenrath had added a few extra magical tricks to the barricades. They were taller than the surrounding audience, with barred windows to offer a very clear view as to the scene inside. Any time someone tried to damage the wall, Mozenrath would casually flick his wrist, and spikes of cement would protrude, threatening to impale the dissenters.

He was really getting sick of all this yelling, regardless of it was for or against the slaying of Asgore. "Can we just get this over with?" he groaned.

The Huntsman nodded. "As you wish." He looked to Jihl.

She gestured to Asgore. "Be my guest. You will let me say a few words first, of course."

The Huntsman started to approach, drawing his huntstaff, alighting it. Asgore struggled against his bonds. Anti-magical bindings that the Huntsman and Mozenrath had cooked up. Was there any point in telling the people that this was no ordinary justice? That these men were murderers and he knew one of them almost intimately from his nightmares?

They wouldn't care, Asgore knew. In that moment, he was filled with resentment for all humans, even the ones who stood up for his cause. If it hadn't been for humans, none of this would ever have happened. His people could've lived in peace. Maybe Toriel had been right all along. Maybe, just maybe, he should've been more proactive about killing humans to break the barrier on the mountain. It seemed they just didn't deserve his sympathy anymore.

Jihl held an arm high in the air to get everyone's attention. "TODAY, WE MAKE AN EXAMPLE OF A MENACE TO SOCIETY!" she yelled. "AN UNDESIRABLE WHO HAS KILLED MANY OF OUR OWN CHILDREN WILL DIE TODAY! AND I DARESAY THIS TOWN WILL BE FAR SAFER!"

Some cheered her. Some jeered her. Either way, she was getting attention, and she basked in it.

She looked to the Huntsman. "Do it," she told him. "Make it dramatic, if possible."

The Huntsman held the staff out close to Asgore's throat, an inch away, glowing hotly. "I do not give up easily on a quarry," he hissed. "This was long overdue. You will die remembering that escaping me was temporary and pointless. In the end, I am the hunter, and you but the prey."

Asgore had had quite enough by this point. No, he couldn't break free, but he wasn't going to go down with a whimper. "You're everything I've ever hated about humans," he seethed. "If I had any chance of getting free, I wouldn't hesitate to maul you where you stand."

The Huntsman couldn't help but chuckle. "You've become the monster in all ways, then. I really am doing these people a service."

He drew back the huntstaff, ready to slice it forward, to cleave Asgore in two.

The problem was that with all the focus on the town square and the execution, no one, absolutely no one, was looking up. Meaning they didn't see the airships, old-fashioned pirate galleons held aloft by propellers, nor the flying saucer that hovered above that fleet.

At the bow of the frontmost ship stood Bowser and Sephiroth, watching the people below crowd like ants around a hill. "Luckily for you," Sephiroth sneered, "almost all the monsters are already segregated from the group. All you have to worry about is the front line."

"And you were gonna do this without me!" Bowser complained. "You would've just killed them all, and that would've ruined everything! How was he gonna make nice with us when we picked off all his friends?"

"I still think this is unnecessary," Sephiroth sighed. "We could have won him over any number of ways. However, I will let you do as you will if it keeps you quiet."

That was when the Huntsman approached, and Bowser panicked. "He's gonna kill him off!" Bowser yelped. "We gotta start!"

Sephiroth inclined his head. "Very well."

His sole wing erupted from his back, pumping to raise him into the sky. He raised Masamune high; dark storm clouds flocked to where it pointed in the heavens, darkening the entire county.

When the Huntsman drew back his staff for the final blow, that was when everything went dark, far too dark for twilight. Distracted, he whipped about to look at the source, and finally, he noticed the airships.

Sephiroth then flicked Masamune down to point at the earth itself, and at his behest, a glowing array of red-orange meteors of fire plummeted. In no time, they began impacting. A home blown to bits, its remains set aflame. A crater in the street. Onion-san's lake caused to overflow by the impact, and thankfully he too had been moved into the mountain.

"No…" Mozenrath stared, wide-eyed, up at the one-winged angel in the sky. "NO! WHY? HOW? WHY NOW? DID HE KNOW WE'D BE HERE? IS THIS ABOUT US?"

"I don't know," Miratrix replied, "but I'm not making myself an easy target!" She raced to the nearest barrier, then, in an inhuman display of strength, vaulted off the midsection of the wall to leap atop the perpendicular wall and sail out into the streets.

"Show-off," Albel sneered before he too scaled the wall, using his sharp gauntlet to dig himself handholds.

"GO!" Bowser pointed to the crowds below. "MAGIKOOPAS!"

An army of Magikoopas, smaller members of Bowser's own race who wore blue robes to distinguish their prowess in the mystic arts, levitated off the flying armada, firing shapes made of light at the ground. Some of it was meant to cause even more destruction among Sephiroth's meteors. However, a small squadron headed right for the monster frontline.

"TORIEL!" Frisk screamed, trying to find their way through the chaos. "TORIEEEEEEL!"

"I'M HERE, MY CHILD!" Toriel dropped to her knees, surrounding Frisk in a tight embrace. "Now we must – "

They were hit with a Magikoopa's spell. Suddenly encased in crystal, unable to move.

One by one, the other monsters were taken down. Undyne tried to shield Dan Lyons, and he ended up crystallized with her. Mettaton, Mew Mew, and Alphys were each sealed away while trying to escape. Sans just stood there in one place and accepted his fate, becoming crystallized as well.

Sephiroth was adding as much magic as he knew to hasten the destruction down below. It seemed that the town was going to be the epicenter of a worldwide apocalypse, with the meteors ever-growing in size. There was hardly anything left of Knightdock as it was known, and now damage was spreading to New Vulpine and beyond. Orbs of Darkness descended as Supernova explosions took place on the planet's surface. Many of the humans who'd so far survived had only done so to be met with hallucinatory-looking images of angels that grabbed onto them and drained their life away like vampires.

"I'M NOT GOING TO STAND FOR THIS!" Mozenrath yelled. And before anyone could stop him, he'd vanished.

"NO!" The Huntsman reached out to where he'd teleported away. He then looked back to Asgore, whose expression was wide-eyed, vulnerable.

"Do it," Asgore begged. "Please. The alternative is…"

Slay the monster he'd pursued for so long. Follow Mozenrath. He'd had to make this choice once before, with the Old Masters of Firebending. He'd chosen Mozenrath. It had nearly ended the WHAM ARMY as they'd known it. If he let Asgore go now, he would be killed in the cataclysm, taking the Huntsman's moment of victory.

The choice was clear. The Huntsman turned away from Asgore without a second thought, blasting apart the concrete barriers, hurtling to position himself underneath the airships.

Jihl pointed her baton at Asgore. "I'm not done with you," she told him. "But first, I need to make sure I have a planet to kill you on." And she took off after the Huntsman.

Mozenrath appeared atop Sephiroth's ship, facing him down directly with gauntlet ablaze. "I DON'T KNOW WHO YOU THINK YOU ARE," he bellowed, "BUT THIS WAS MY MOMENT! YOU CAN DESTROY THIS WORLD ALL YOU WANT AFTER I'M DONE WITH IT, BUT NOT ONE MINUTE BEFORE!"

"Hmph." Sephiroth braced Masamune. "Pathetic."

"No, YOU'RE – "

It took one slice of Masamune, with an immense wave of magic trailing. Mozenrath had only ever felt this kind of strength amongst…well, the Overtakers, if he was being honest, but this one seemed to have no connection to Maleficent. One moment, he stood before Sephiroth, ready to tear him limb from limb. And in the next, after the blow…

He had been thrown from the ship entirely, freefalling. Leaving a comet-trail of blood pouring from the agony in his chest where the blade had cut.

Thinking as quickly as he could, Mozenrath summoned up a portal for himself, panicking all the while. He instantly transported himself to the streets directly below and impacted hard. Due to his spell, it really had the effect of a ten-foot fall rather than anything more dramatic, but it still hurt to land, his skin scraping raw on the asphalt. He tried to push himself up from a laying position, but found no strength left in him.

"MOZENRATH!" The Huntsman was upon him in moments.

Mozenrath felt dread in his very core. He knew the Huntsman had given up Asgore to be here. He remembered the Old Masters. "No," he croaked. "Go back. Kill him now!"

"No!" The Huntsman knelt down beside Mozenrath, prying him up to look over his injuries. When he saw Masamune's mark, his eyes widened. "What are we dealing with here?"

"Too powerful…for now," Mozenrath coughed as the Huntsman ripped away his cape and turned it into a tight tourniquet around his chest. "Kill Asgore…and then…cut our losses. I'll take us out…we regroup." A wave of wooziness hit him, and the world blurred.

"No," the Huntsman told him. "We regroup and leave NOW. Any longer and you won't have it in you to create a Corridor." He swept Mozenrath into his arms, then stood up, carrying him. "DO NOT fall unconscious until we find all three."

"No problem," Mozenrath coughed. "The searing pain should help with that…"

The Huntsman took off back into the chaos, pushing past the panicked people like a salmon swimming upstream. Mozenrth held tight to his chest.

The Magikoopas finished nestling the crystallized monsters into the hollow of Mt. Ebott. Other monsters were starting to peer out to see what was happening. Down in the square, Bowser bashed through the last of the concrete barriers, advancing upon Asgore.

"What do you want?" Asgore asked through flowing tears. "To destroy my world? My family? Me?"

"I'm here FOR you!" Bowser pointed at him. "My boss wants you on our team, and I came to save you from your execution! You're WELCOME! And now you're coming with me!"

"No." Asgore shook his head. "You killed them…Toriel…Frisk…"

"No, I didn't!" Bowser insisted. "See?" He pointed over to the mountain, and Asgore caught a glimpse of a crystal that unmistakably contained Undyne, being placed in the hollow mountain. "I saved all your pals even though the killjoy who came with me said we didn't need to! But I told him you wouldn't work with us if we didn't! And besides." His demeanor took on a strange sincerity. "I wouldn't want my family hurt either, if it was me. Only people who are gonna die today are the humans, except that little kid you like, and do you really got a problem with that?"

"No," Asgore admitted. "No, not after this, not after what they've done to us." His brow furrowed; his gaze hardened. "END THEM."

"Now, that's what I like to hear!" Bowser swiped at the anti-magic bindings, and they fell away under his sharp claw. Asgore was free.

"However," Asgore insisted, "I must see that the mountain is kept safe."

"I'll take you to the best seat in the house!" Bowser promised, extending a clawed hand.

Asgore, against his better judgment, took it.

By this point, the earth itself was beginning to crack apart, forming enormous fissures that led down into boiling red magma. Miratrix was unfortunate enough to be on one of the fault lines when it split, and all of a sudden, there was no ground beneath her feet, and she was falling.

She scrambled to latch onto the wall, giving a wild yell of fear and anger. Her fingernails scraped, and then she found purchase on a handhold, her body dangling. Certain death below. She tried to pull herself up from where she held onto the wall, but to no avail – the fissure wall stretched high above her, and even if she had managed to pull herself up, there was simply nowhere to go.

"No," she growled. "I can't…die like this!" If only she had someone to help her. Maybe now she couldn't afford to be too proud. Her mind raced; she had always thought that if she called, he would come –

"KAMDOR! HELP ME!"

She hadn't even realized whose name she'd just said. By the time it sank in, she was just out of her right mind enough that for a moment, she thought the harsh voice that answered was actually him:
"Are you just going to dangle there like a fool? Take my hand!"

It wasn't Kamdor. It was Albel. He'd jammed his katana into the rock wall to create another handhold between Miratrix and the upper edge, and was dangling from it by his gauntlet. His hand of flesh stretched down toward Miratrix.

"You could let me die here," Miratrix said in awe. "I'm only a tool for you, aren't I? I wouldn't be in your way anymore. Isn't that what you WANT?"

"Don't be foolish," Albel scoffed. "If you die here, then who will I have to annoy? Now make up your mind whether or not you want to die!"

She seized his hand. He vaulted her up out of the ravine, and she turned to stretch her hand back down to him. He could've swung his own body out, but he took her hand all the same, making sure the understanding passed between them.

By the time they found their footing on terra firma, Jihl had located them. "You two better not be fighting!" she panted, quite obviously stressed. "If you haven't noticed, we're all about to die!"

"Then let's get out of here," Miratrix declared.

"I have no choice but to agree," Albel said.

They flanked Jihl, taking off to find the Huntsman.

The saucer that Bowser had brought in started its work, piloted by still more Magikoopas. It hovered over Mt. Ebott, as wide in circumference as the mountain's base. Ropes of light burst down from the saucer to the mountain, digging into the ground, clinging to the mountain's nadir. The saucer heaved upward, and it ripped Mt. Ebott out of the dying planet, taking the mountain safe and whole up into the dark sky. From where it had been torn, more fissures erupted, the surface of the planet itself getting weaker and weaker.

Asgore watched from onboard the frontmost ship. "You did it," he said in awe. "You protected them."

"I said I wouldn't like it if my family died, okay?" Bowser grumbled. "And it's business, too. You're coming with us. Unless you grew a conscience all of a sudden."

Asgore glowered out at the breaking planet. "No. Everything I care about here, you have protected. Everything you have destroyed…no longer deserved to exist." He looked to Bowser. "But of course they would never accept me again. They follow Toriel now. Even before all of this, it was always a division we avoided discussing. They deserve to be safe and have their true queen. I do not know what business you are asking of me…but I am willing to hear it out. Perhaps it will be a place I truly belong after all."

"That's the spirit!" Bowser pumped a fist. Then he turned to glare at Sephiroth; "And YOU were just gonna let 'em die!"

Sephiroth turned to stalk away. "It's none of my business anymore."

"I don't get that guy," Bowser grumbled. "He had this whole family living underground in the last kingdom we were at, and he fought 'em all to the death anyway. But he gets the job done, and he's not bad company. Get the feeling you'll be better, though."

"Are there others?" Asgore asked.

Bowser chuckled. "That's the fun part…"

The Huntsman came from one way, clutching Mozenrath. Jihl came from the other, with Albel and Miratrix in tow.

"This had BETTER not be an elaborate setup to force me to join your team!" Jihl barked. "But given that one of us nearly died in a ravine of lava and one of YOU looks half dead already, I'm going to go ahead and assume you wouldn't be THAT stupid!"

"Don't know…WHY…they're here…" Mozenrath moaned, head swimming. "But this…means war."

"A topic we can discuss when we are on safer ground," the Huntsman said. "Jihl. Are you with us?"

"What other choice do I have?" Jihl spat. "Well, die, I suppose. But your offer wasn't bad from the get-go, so why don't we see how this all pans out?"

"JUST TAKE US HOME!" Miratrix shrieked as the earth shook.

"IF WE DIE HERE BECAUSE OF YOU, THEN I'LL KILL YOU ALL!" Albel yelled.

No one had time to point out the obvious flaw of logic in that statement.

Mozenrath put out his hand, shakily conjuring a Corridor of Darkness. It faintly flickered, but then held steady. "GO!" the Huntsman yelled, and once Jihl, Miratrix, and Albel were through, the Huntsman barreled after with Mozenrath. The Corridor closed behind them.

Asgore had heard most of the terms of the deal by the time Sephiroth's job was done. Starting here, with Knightdock as the epicenter, the meteors, Darkness, soul-sucking angels, Magikoopas, crystals, and Supernovas had torn across the world like a wildfire. The airships hoisted high into the cosmos, the saucer keeping pace. Down below, the whole earth broke into shards and began disintegrating in fire. Mt. Ebott remained intact, pulled up by the saucer.

"I call it 'Monster Mountain Galaxy'!" Bowser crowed. "What do you think?"

"It is now all that was ever important in this world," Asgore declared.

Finally, in one last trembling rush of flame, the deed was done. All that remained of the planet Knightdock had once occupied was a series of dark, barren plateaus of gray stone. "Call it what you want," Sephiroth stated. "To me, it is the Edge of Creation."

"Why do you always gotta be so pretentious?" Bowser snapped, and Asgore found his sense of humor again for the first time in a long while.

The Magikoopas returned to the fleet. The cosmic navy was turned around, sailing through the stars.

Inside the mountain, the first to break free of the crystals was Undyne, using her energy spears to force her way out and bring Dan with her. She made a mental note to come back and free the others as soon as she had shown the attackers what for. She barreled to the entrance of the mountain –

Pulled up short. Saw her whole world gone, replaced with dead rock. All humans, good and bad, wiped from the face of existence, save Frisk and Dan. The clouds had finally dissipated, leaving in their wake a vista of pure darkness studded with glittering stars and multicolored novas.

Undyne dropped to her knees and let out a scream that was heard throughout the entirety of the mountain.

In the earthen base of what remained of the world, the roots of a yellow flower clenched in rage.

...

Miratrix, Albel, Jihl, and the Huntsman with Mozenrath burst into the Lost Lounge of the Sun. The Corridor snapped shut as Mozenrath declared, "Now…I pass out." And promptly did so.

The Huntsman took him to the nearest couch, laying him down, peeling away his turban to gather his hair away from his face. "I will need whatever medical supplies we can manage," he said.

"Hardly a problem for me," Albel said with a toss of his head. "I can request what I like."

"Can you even leave here?" Miratrix asked in concern. "We're trapped in the cell once you go through that door, and without Mozenrath to make a new path…"

"The cells are sealed with walls comprised of data," Albel said. "Only my suite is reinforced to stop me from leaving against the Grandmaster's will. I can manipulate the majority of the barriers here to move about as I please. Getting back INTO my suite will be the difficult part, but don't you dare underestimate me." He then glowered at Miratrix's arm. "That had better not leave a permanent mark."

She clutched where he'd swiped her. "Are you apologizing?"

"Of course not," he huffed.

"I accept your apology," Miratrix said slyly.

"I am NOT stooping so low as to APOLOGIZE!" Albel snapped.

"CHILDREN," Jihl snapped. "Can you save it for when we're out of earshot of your annoyance?"

Miratrix and Albel bristled. "I'll be off, then," Albel grunted as he moved for the passage back to Sakaar.

"I suppose this is not the way you wanted to decide," the Huntsman told Jihl.

She clenched two fists. "Everything I worked for…" She trembled. The Huntsman couldn't tell if it was rage or grief. "Everything I had. It was MINE. And now…" She whipped her head toward the Huntsman. "When we're through with what you're doing here, we'll find the ones who did that, and they WILL die."

"Agreed," the Huntsman said. "I would not have gone about it this way if they had left us a choice."

"Well, they didn't," Jihl said, "so you can count me in on your WHAM ARMY. In fact, I'm almost looking forward to my round of the upcoming tournament. I need something to take out my anger on."

Mozenrath stirred, grunted. "George…?"

"DO NOT tell me you are dying," the Huntsman said quickly, seizing Mozenrath's left hand in his own.

"It'll take more than that to kill me," Mozenrath grumbled, "and you know it. But I really didn't want to go through all this again."

"A near-death experience?"

Mozenrath's brow furrowed. "You left your prey for me. I know what happens now."

The Huntsman felt a deep ache inside. "The one to blame is the one who caused the cataclysm," he said. "You had no part in it. What I would appreciate is your assistance tracking him down as my new quarry. This cannot stand."

"You won't…" Mozenrath realized. Then he put on a stoic expression: "I figured. You just passed my test."

"Of course I did."

Jihl sat down at the furthest couch, trying not to make a point of paying attention to either of them. In a way, they were cute.

...

Finding the world the Heretic Summoner had been banished to? That was the easy part. Figuring out how to get to him? That was technically easy, as far as level of skill went. However, it was absolute tedium.

Turned out he'd…not exactly died. Been possessed by a demon (that he'd been trying to summon in the first place) and literally smote to Hell by a pair of devil hunters. Luckily, that didn't leave Vexen completely without options. After all, the demon that had done in the Summoner was the very one he'd been banished for summoning in Radiant Garden. The ritual he'd used was well-documented.

Too bad the artifacts required had been scattered and stored in museums worldwide after his fall. That was what truly made it difficult.

Vexen had thought it a simple roadblock, splitting his team of nine into three groups of two and one group of two-plus-Xerxes. "If we each target a different corner of this world," he had stated, "and immediately book direct flights back to the summoning site, then we should have the ritual ready to perform very shortly."

His cohorts stared back at him with wide eyes. Then Victor broke into forced laughter; "This is a joke, isn't it? …Do say it's a joke."

No. He made everyone hike around the world to steal relics. And compared to most of the things that had happened to them, the acquisition of said relics was fairly uneventful, and doesn't warrant retelling in any great capacity.

Vexen, Deymos, and Xerxes were the first to return to the rendez-vous point: a circular plaza in the European city of Vie de Marli. The Heretic Summoner's new home. Apparently, he hadn't wasted any time settling in here – he'd left in his wake a multinational mining corporation whose shares were folding by the minute.

"Almost like he didn't get the concept of 'exile,'" Deymos joked. "Or maybe he actually got it better than most people."

"It was genius, all considered," Vexen mused. "He not only found a place to continue his summoning ritual, but a way to efficiently collect synthesis ores while at it."

"He sure was living large," Deymos muttered. "Sidebar: are you creeped out by how…dead this city is?"

There were incredibly few people for such a sprawling metropolis. Then again, Vie de Marli was ancient. "Perhaps only descendants of the ancestral founders populate this city," Vexen mused. "Or, perhaps, given the havoc the Heretic would've wreaked upon it…they remain indoors out of fear. He certainly did find his pick of entities to summon in a world without Aeons."

"Just making sure you know I might bail if things get hairy," Deymos stated.

Vexen sighed, shaking his head. "As was to be expected. Why do you think I insisted on being the one to hold the Arcana Bastone?"

In other words, the staff he held in his hand, shaped like a caduceus, with its golden snakes entwining around the angels' wings instead of the shaft itself.

Xerxes then announced, "Someone here!"

"Huh?" Deymos looked where Xerxes was indicating with his tail. Then he put a hand up in the air; "Oh, heyyyyy!"

Vincent Edgeworth and skekSil approached – the latter going his usual speed and the former intentionally making no effort to outpace it. It took them an awkward amount of time to reunite with Vexen and Deymos given that.

Once they were finally within earshot, Vexen hissed, "Did you get it?"

Vincent held it up between two fingers: a dingy old coin, upon which was portrayed two humanoid silhouettes, each with one angel's wing. They stood together, giving a pair of wings to hold both aloft.

"…Strange," Vexen muttered, taking the coin into his hand and running his fingers over the design.

"Or perhaps all too sensible," Vincent argued. "We've come all this way to find a man from your world, and we discover that something he used for his ritual has a strikingly similar design to the man I didn't get to finish ripping apart and his meddler friend."

"I know that's Sephiroth and Genesis," Deymos commented, "but which is which?"

"Actually," Vincent realized, "you can take your pick."

"Is veeery interesting," skekSil mused. "Legends tell of Arcana Medaglia and other such relics here on THIS world…yet we find staff of summoner and coin with image of one-winged angels. Did Heretic Summoner bring from Radiant Garden? Did he fashion in image of own memory? Or is it all intriguing coincidence? Hmmmm…"

"Ask them!" Xerxes pointed across the plaza, to where two more figures were hurrying over, flashes of blue and burgundy.

When Vincent saw who approached, he couldn't hide a proud smirk. "Second place?" he scoffed. "Why, Albert, I'm disappointed."

Albert Krueger and Tsumugi Shirogane pulled to a halt before their friends. "Well met, Vincent," Albert replied sourly. "Certainly you would have eaten crow had we not taken a detour to look for anime figurines…" He glared to Tsumugi.

"The emphasis there is on 'we,'" Tsumugi grumbled. "I SUGGESTED it. You replied by saying you were looking for a new keychain anyway. I found the character I wanted in the second shop we visited; YOU dragged us halfway across Tokyo looking for any of a hyper-specific list of obscure villains!"

Albert held up a key ring. It had no keys on it, since he had nowhere to live. Just a tiny keychain shaped like a chibi. "I found it, though, didn't I? If you'd've listened to my instincts from the beginning. Thanks to me, we have this trinket AND the Arcana Calice."

"Instincts?" Tsumugi argued. "You bought a whole box of blind-bag figurines just to get to that one! AND YOU BOUGHT THEM ONE AT A TIME!" She pointed to Albert. "HIS KEYCHAIN WAS LITERALLY THE LAST ONE HE OPENED!"

"Tsumugi," Albert sighed, "why do we have to fight? We were enjoying ourselves on that trip through Tokyo, discussing murder methods and which ones would bring the highest television ratings…"

"And you gave me good ideas for a hypothetical season V4," Tsumugi assured. "But we're fighting because JUST NOW, you accused me of being the reason you didn't win this round of the rivalry you use to cover the fact that you're just a TSUNDERE locked in tsuntsun mode!"

Albert's pink eyes went wide at that.

"Tsundere?" Vincent repeated. "I've strangely never heard that word before." Which irked him, because he knew a lot of words. "What does it mean?"

"Imbecile," Albert said quickly. "Idiot. Moron. She's insulting me."

"No," Tsumugi insisted, "it means someone who alternates between fawning for someone and acting like he doesn't like them, usually because he can't come to admit he has a – "

"What are we talking about?" Victor and Simon had finally shown up.

"Not the matter at hand, I ASSURE you," Vexen sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Check this out!" Simon posed with the Arcana Spada: a large, crooked sword of black metal, like an outsized dagger. "I could fell an entire army with this!"

"No," Vexen said flatly. "You couldn't."

"Gonna have to agree with Vexster on this one," Deymos said, equally flatly.

"It was a breeze," Victor stated. "We got in and out, setting off no alarms. No one even noticed. They probably STILL haven't realized it's gone missing."

"And I have infinite material for a new novel!" Simon insisted, still playing with the sword. "I'm going to deviate from the fantasy theme to write a buddy heist story. After all – " He slipped, dropping the sword. If he hadn't backpedaled so quickly, with such good reflexes, he likely would've chopped off one of his own limbs.

"I'll handle that." Victor hoisted the sword into his own hands. "And you?"

Albert held out the deep-green chalice. "A flawless victory. We also went completely unnoticed."

"I posed as a guard!" Tsumugi chirped.

"We weren't seen either," Vincent said suddenly, sharply.

"Oh, but lawyer!" SkekSil grinned, knowing what exactly he stood to gain from revealing the truth. "How could you have forgotten alarm you tripped? So loud, such cacophony…"

Albert's head snapped to attention. He looked to Vincent. And, seeing Vincent turn red, Albert smirked. "Is that true, Vincent? Did you arrive here before me because you cut corners and forced your way through, making sloppy errors along the way?"

"It had nothing to do with – it was an accident," Vincent grumbled. "Don't do this to me in front of Victor."

"Why not?" Albert asked.

"Yes, Vincent," Victor urged. "Why not? I honestly always find it more than amusing when the two of you argue." He smiled to bring the point home.

Well, Vincent couldn't exactly articulate his reasoning then, because he had been about to cite disrespect toward Victor, but that had never been a concern. Silly, anyway, to think that seeing Albert bicker with Vincent might spark negative emotions from him. It wasn't as though he had anything to be jealous of. So he went silent, pondering it.

"We must hurry," Vexen urged. "No more petty arguments unless I'm the one to start them. The ritual will only be half complete out here, with no eclipse overhead, but we're not looking to unleash chaos on earth. We're looking to bring one man back from the depths."

He reached out with a hand, calling up four pedestals of ice that arranged themselves around the plaza. By that time, there was no one around who wasn't WHAM ARMY. "Quickly!" Vexen urged.

Vincent of course took off at once, hurtling himself toward a pedestal, because he knew Albert was going to race him for it. And Albert did just that, speeding toward an equidistantly-away pedestal. Victor laughed, shaking his head as he calmly walked to one of the far ones; Vexen himself placed the staff on the other.

Once all four of the Arcana were in place, there was an immediate spark of light. Everyone backed off – effectively fencing themselves in, as lines of lightning jolted from one relic to the next, drawing a closed box in the plaza. More bolts then converged over their heads, sprouting up from the base and forming a skeletal electric pyramid. From its point, a bolt shot straight up into the heavens.

There had been a statue in the plaza center, so worn down by time that no one could even tell who it was supposed to be of anymore. It shuddered, and it sank down into a swirling portal of black and red. The WHAM ARMY contingent was kept on their toes, now trapped on a narrow bridge between the lightning box and the growing vortex.

Then a creature shot upward from the vortex. He flew as high as the pyramid would allow, stretching transparent wings.

"Is that him?" Albert asked expectantly.

"No," Vexen gasped, heart pounding. "He wouldn't look like that. THAT is something else."

The entity they'd summoned appeared to be a giant cicada, though he had only four legs, and those happened to be the shape and proportions of human limbs. He lowered himself down before the WHAM ARMY, folding his arms. Hovering just upward and out of reach.

"How utterly f-fascinating," he stated. "Humans n-never truly cease to amaze…who would attempt s-such a ritual of the damned, knowing the risk, the potential c-consequences?" He then gave a low chuckle. "What a wondrous d-development for my research."

Deymos elbowed Vexen, very lightly. "He sounds like you."

"What ARE you?" Vexen barked. "YOU are not the Heretic Summoner, Arius!"

The insect tilted his head. "Arius? Who are you to s-seek Arius? He has been dragged to the d-deepest corners of Hell." His voice took on a tone of remorse. "He is…no longer retrievable. I am here in his s-stead, and I assure you, whatever f-fate he would have d-dealt you…I will do the same!"

"Who AM I?" Vexen snapped. "I am Vexen, formerly Even, one of the disgraced scientists of Radiant Garden! The world from which Arius was banished and sent here!" His anger mounted. "I know Arius' motives better than you possibly could, and that is based on my secondhand knowledge alone! As for your precious RESEARCH, I am twice the scientist you'll ever be, and you will CEASE TREATING ME LIKE AN EXPERIMENT!"

"Even?" The insect actually recoiled in shock. "Truly…EVEN?" He gasped.

Then in a strange turn of events, he dropped down to the ground, on the same walkway where the WHAM ARMY stood. He rushed toward Vexen. Vexen put up his shield as a reflex, only to realize that the insect was transforming, retracting his carapace, leaving behind something far more human-looking. Obviously not truly human, but it was a sign of lowering arms.

The man was tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular, but he still moved with a hunch and hesitation aplenty. His long, dark, wavy hair was pulled back into a ponytail to keep it out of his face, and a pair of thin-rimmed glasses sparkled in the moonlight. He wore white – a cross between robes and a laboratory coat.

"It's y-you!" the man sputtered, beaming brightly. "Arius spoke of you! You are the inspiration for b-both his work and mine! You have n-no idea whatsoever of just how much I OWE you! No, how much we BOTH owe you!"

Vexen raised his shield again, now fearing that the man would actually hug him instead of attacking, and that was even worse. "Are you saying Arius spoke highly of me?" he reiterated. It seemed unbelievable. He'd been turned into a Nobody and forced out of his own home by Maleficent before Arius had ever put his name in history books.

"Yes!" The man beamed. "He idolized you! He wanted to be exactly l-like you! He perfected your r-replica formula, you know, and he n-named his first test subject 'Chi' in homage to your work with Xehanort! When he s-spoke of other worlds, m-most called him crazy, but I KNEW! I kn-KNEW there was truth to his words! It fueled my own r-research on the n-nature of what makes a human, a d-demon, or an angel. The research that culminated in the angelic form you s-saw before you just n-now!"

"THAT was supposed to be an ANGEL?" Deymos blurted.

Vexen was struck silent. But only momentarily. Still, a sign of his world having been changed immensely in the span of ten minutes. "You…are saying that without even having met me…Arius idolized me? He built upon my work? He inspired YOU to do the same?"

"Yes, yes!" The man nodded fervently. "You l-look exactly as I th-thought you would! If only I had my n-notes…this is worth d-documenting…"

"I…I cannot believe this," Vexen said in awe.

"Hey!" Deymos urged. "You have fans! That's AWESOME! Just – "

"I cannot believe," Vexen snarled, "that Arius saw fit to PLAGIARIZE THE REPLICA FORMULA! 'Perfected'? I NEVER!"

"Oh boy," Deymos sighed.

"Academic!" skekSil barked. "You have just found entirely kindred spirit, and your first instinct is to INSULT and protect own ego?"

"You say that like it doesn't absolutely track," Simon sighed, deadpan.

"Yes, was predictable," skekSil growled, "but does not mean was WISE choice! Hm!"

"Just let it go," Victor advised. "Like the Chamberlain said, you found a friend. It sounds like this is an easy path to getting what we want anyhow."

"YOU CERTAINLY HAVE NERVE," Vexen yelled, "THINKING YOU CAN CLAIM TO LOOK UP TO ME AND MY WORK ONLY TO – "

"Okay, TIME OUT!" Deymos summoned up his sitar and played a loud, dissonant chord.

"DEYMOS!" Vexen scolded. "WHY – "

The chord's effect, a large splash of cold water, knocked him right off his feet.

"Sorry about him." Deymos shrugged. "Yes, he's always like that, but it's what we like about him. Endearing flaws and all that." He put out his right hand. "Name's Deymos. Yours?"

"Agnus," the man replied, seizing the hand and pumping it. "Known occasionally as 'Angelo Agnus,' as of gaining the t-transformation you s-summoned."

"Whoa!" Deymos remarked as his arm was just about yanked off. "For a scientist, you sure are BUFF. Kinda like someone else I know." He fired a glare over his shoulder at Vexen, who was just peeling himself off the ground. "Someone who should really let me handle this if he doesn't want THE ENTIRE MISSION BOTCHED."

Vexen scowled and gave a wordless growl, but let Deymos keep talking anyway.

Deymos returned his attention to Agnus. "We're looking for Arius because we have a business proposition for him," he stated. "We might have spots on our team for both him AND you if you're willing to help us out. See, we need that whole 'Heretic Summoner' bit in order to get a big ol' monster on our side for our grand plan. And beyond that, we've got at least two scientists here who I know would want to chat with a guy like you."

"I'm not an entomologist," Albert reminded Deymos.

"Oh, what, like you're sea creatures only?" Deymos rebutted. "You're a THERAPIST! You dabble in psych AT LEAST!"

"You m-must understand," Agnus breathed. "I have had…nowhere to go. Even amongst d-demonkind…b-but a far worse fate has b-befallen Arius. The D-Despair Embodied has pulled him in deep…" He hung his head. "He is m-my friend. I had hoped, if n-nothing else, that being sent to Hell would give me a way to r-retrieve him…but alas."

"Okay." Deymos shrugged. "So we'll go to Hell and get him back. Problem solved."

"Problem most certainly NOT solved!" Vexen was on his feet. "How do you expect to even find your way there? It's all but impossible to reach intentionally!"

"Simple," Deymos boasted, taking out his scroll. "I made a WHAM ARMY founders group chat a while back. I'll just ask if any of the street-smart guys know something we don't." And so he began texting.

"If any of them knew ANYTHING helpful," Vexen argued, "then we would have known it by now! The idea of any of them having knowledge on this subject that I DO NOT is laughable!"

"Ha-HA!" Deymos pumped a fist. "Got a response! Says 'Be there in 30!'"

"From WHOM, exactly?" Vexen barked.

"I, uh…I dunno," Deymos admitted, scratching the back of his head. "I never actually got around to typing in whose name was which number, sooooooo…"

Vexen rolled his eyes. "I suppose at least you did find us some solution, which is actually quite commendable. Well played."

"Hah-hah!" Deymos smirked.

"I suppose we now wait half an hour – " Agnus began.

The answer arrived in exactly thirty seconds. Not minutes.

The train that was Enmu erupted out of the portal, shooting straight up vertically and then coming in for a skidding landing to fill the city plaza. Vexen, Agnus, Deymos, and their entourage had to scatter to avoid being crushed by the train's metal bulk.

"WHEN WILL I LEARN TO SEE SUCH THINGS COMING?" Vexen screamed as he made it to safety – not hard, since Enmu had slammed right through the ritual borders and broken them down, allowing everyone to head for the plaza edges.

Finally, the train came to a stop. Vexen's head snapped to glare at the frontmost car, not knowing exactly who to expect. Of course, the person who did emerge didn't surprise him in the least. This was exactly his brand of idiocy.

"I heard you need a ride!" Aghoul yelled at Vexen, waving from the train. "All aboard, 'cause we're the last train to Hell!"

...

A/N: For reference, Mugen Train is the ONLY Demon Slayer media I have seen, and as of now, it's the only one I want to see. The rest of the series doesn't interest me, but I saw Enmu and I had to investigate because I know what I'm about. I am in this fandom only partially and for only one character and I love him so much.

Also, rest in peace, Julie and the Phantoms. Gone way too soon.