Taking Back the Crown

by JCMorrigan

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

164. Keeping It Low-Key

A/N: Final Fantasy XV gets to be its own fully fleshed-out as-per-canon world because that's just easier for my plans. No AUing any of its characters anywhere else. Makes sense because that's the one KH itself will probably refuse to adapt for Reasons, and speaking of, now's a good time to remind you that a lot of the KH concepts post-III have potential that intrigues me but not great execution IMO, so I'm taking some of the new characters and doing my own AU with them. My toys now.

Oh, and the song you need to know is "The Whole Being Dead Thing" from the Beetlejuice musical.

...

The dropoff point for Vexen's team was coming up fast. Not a moment too soon. Actually a few moments too late, in Vexen's opinion, because thanks to the song on the PA, for about four minutes now he'd had to listen to a man repeatedly ask "What is love?" as though an abstract concept could be easily defined. And then answer himself simply by asking his partner not to hurt them. Which wasn't an answer.

"The place we're going has a couple names," Enmu explained. "The closest afterlife to Radiant Garden is of course the Radiant Garden Underground, or the RGUG. But a lot of people who see it up close and personal tend to call it – "

"Hollow Bastion," Vexen gasped, looking out the window.

The flesh party train had burst through an inverted waterfall, parking on a patch of ice. The view out the window was the floating stones that provided the ascent to a familiar castle: not Radiant Garden as it was now, nor Radiant Garden as Even had been raised near, but a broken-down shell of the castle that replicated how Maleficent had remade the bastion in her image.

"It's upside-down from the Radiant Garden for the living," Enmu explained. "Completely in a different dimension, like the reflection in a pond."

"Well, now it makes sense why we never encounter any Netherworld interference in Radiant Garden!" Aghoul realized. "The deceased souls all come here instead! It's kept nice and organized so the living and dead can't stab each other's toes!"

"S-step on each other's toes?" Agnus corrected.

"I know what I said," Aghoul replied proudly.

"Don't be fooled, though," Enmu went on. "It might look like the witch's old stomping ground, but the Composer of this Underground is more angelic than anything else. They say she's Heaven-sent, working tirelessly to make a paradise here for her subjects. They don't even play the Reaper's Game here."

"A 'Composer' is a Netherworld lord – " Aghoul attempted.

"I don't care," Vexen spat.

"You'll care if you run into her," Enmu pointed out. "She wouldn't be happy to see you befouling her precious bastion. I advise you don't let her see you. From here, you have to get into the castle, take the lift down to the lowest level, make your way through the Rainbow Caverns, and open a door carved with a prince and princess as its lock. Beyond that door is a waterfall of ink. Jumping in it acts as a crossing-over point. Dead can't use it to become living, but living can use it to return to their original realm."

"I know the chamber well," Vexen grumbled. "Unfortunately. …Is there not a bubble we can ride as a shortcut?"

"Perhaps," Enmu said, "but good luck finding it."

"I know which one it is," Deymos said confidently.

"You do?" Vexen raised a brow.

"Yeah," Deymos said. "Trust me."

"Well, it's been truly lovely having you all around," Mim said. "But you know how I feel about things that are lovely. You've overstayed your welcome! Now GET OUT!"

The next thing Vexen knew, he was being magically thrown from the train while Mim cackled in the background. Typical. He stumbled onto the ice, and was soon joined by Deymos, Xerxes, Tsumugi, skekSil, Simon, Vincent, Victor, Albert, Arius, and Agnus. Enmu then sped into the Rising Fall across the way, and the sound of Aghoul's team belting out the next song on the sugar-pop playlist echoed after him.

As the group picked themselves up, Albert remarked, "I hope we get to catch up with them again. That was very enjoyable."

"Trust me," Vexen growled. "You come to get all too used to it."

Floating stones rose and dropped before them at a lazy pace, inviting them to start climbing, ascending to the castle. However, Deymos' attention was elsewhere. "It's that one," he said, pointing to a great translucent bubble that floated over the ice at their level.

"How can you be certain?" Vexen barked. "That's only the first one we've seen!"

"Duh, that's the point!" Deymos' sitar flashed into hand. "ANY bubble is the right one so long as I have this!"

It wasn't often that Vexen felt stupid. "…I knew that."

"I know. Anyway, let me get this thing a little more group-sized…"

He strummed. The bubble expanded, large enough to hold all eleven of them. (Eleven. Such a large team. More than Vexen thought he would accumulate.)

"All aboard!" Deymos called out. He charged headlong into the bubble. After a moment's confusion, the others followed.

Then the bubble took off, beginning to float. It also collapsed, becoming suddenly smaller, with everyone still inside, but they weren't harmed, nor did they break through the surface. It was as if they'd shrunken along with it.

Deymos began to play, redirecting the bubble's course. "What're the coordinates, Vexinator?"

"Head for the castle, of course," Vexen told him.

So they did, their bubble sneaking in through the front door as someone exited. There seemed to be a grand array of souls here, souls of all sorts roaming the fortress. Vexen felt a pang of ire; how dare these strangers sully the castle that was technically the home of his youth?

He continued to direct the bubble through the castle, to the lift station, down and down and down into the Rainbow Caverns. Finally, they reached the door Enmu had spoken of: a double door carved with the likenesses of Snow White and Prince Florian.

"…How odd," Vexen realized. "I had never put it together before."

"What?" Deymos asked.

"These carvings are in the equivalent door in the land of the living," Vexen explained. "And have been since…well, by my calculations, I would have been a very small child. Snow White and her prince were not yet born. Yet this is unmistakably the Princess of Heart and no parallel iteration."

"Ironmonger saw glimpse of future," skekSil posed.

"Perhaps," Vexen said. "It is another curiosity indeed."

They soon realized they would need to be in physical form to activate the door's lock, so the bubble popped, depositing them all in front of it. Tsumugi turned the crank to make Snow White and Florian wheel toward each other and kiss, at which point the doors unlocked. Vexen pushed them, ready to throw them open –

"Is someone there?"

A voice from the other side. "Curses," Vexen hissed. "Deymos, make us invisible!"

"You got it," Deymos said. "Actually, everyone group up…"

His fingers danced over the sitar. They were now encased in a cluster of bubbles.

"Everyone has their own bubble that's overlapping with the rest right now," Deymos explained. "We have to go in a single-file line where the bubbles all touch. If your bubble breaks out of the chain, it's gonna be really hard to find you…without a signal, that is. So I say if that happens, start tapping your foot to the rhythm of any song we heard on the ride to Nightmare or back. Got it?"
"It won't happen," Arius said smugly, his chest puffed out. "Since I will be in the lead."

"Okay, first of all, no," Deymos groaned. "Second, how does you being in the lead make the people following you immune to accidents? Third, still no. Fourth, I'M leading."

"Hurry up!" Xerxes hissed. "Person on other side could hear!"

They dropped the chatter, using gestures to direct themselves into line. First Deymos, then Vexen, then Simon, skekSil, Tsumugi, Vincent, Victor, Albert, Agnus, and Arius. Xerxes positioned himself so his bubble was another offshoot of Deymos'. Each bubble overlapped with someone else; everyone but Deymos was looking at the back of a teammate.

Deymos cautiously moved forward, slipping through the crack in the door. The others followed suit, moving slowly and carefully.

At the same time, a pair of dead came racing through the tunnels. Deep-blue hair streaking from one, silver-white from another. As they passed, Vexen felt a start, a brief flash of recognition, but no, it simply couldn't be –

Inside the doors waited three more people. A woman with pink hair, clothed in a gown of white as though she were a bride. A blonde woman in a yellow pantsuit, a sword at her side. And a woman with deep red hair cut short, wearing a flowing white gown whose skirt was short up front and billowed into a long trail in the back.

The two who'd been running slowed down. The blue-haired one was a woman, dressed in an avant-garde outfit of navy-colored layers. The blond was male, encased in a suit of armor that was white and powder blue.

Anyone who'd seen Aeleus' sculptures hidden below the living Radiant Garden would recognize all five immediately. Vexen, however, never had. Still he knew exactly who these people were, and it stunned him so much that he froze in place without warning.

"I thought I heard someone!" laughed Princess Elise. The aura that surrounded her was positively radiant; though her sister Sarah had held the throne during their lifetimes, it was apparently now Elise who Composed.

"We have news!" Evie told her.

Her husband Kain nodded. "The six who we've cleared to transfer here, they seemed to have made a seventh friend. Not a native of Radiant Garden in any way, shape, or form, and yet…"

"I welcome them anyway," Elise said with a smile.

"Elise…" Celes Chere groaned. "We do not yet know anything of this 'friend.' What if they are a threat?"

"I agree it does not pay to be so flippant," Sarah agreed.

"Well, if that's the case, then let's get to know them," Elise said. "What are they like?"

"It's no surprise Haurchefant befriended this one," Kain sniffed. "He's got a similar brashness…and similar stupidity."

Evie nudged him playfully. "Also, apparently he DOES have friends who moved here to Radiant Garden, and he wants to keep an eye on them from down below. Three who live in the outer districts, and then one he said was a total weird case, but he apparently 'couldn't abandon him anymore.' Also, he's very fashion-forward. VERY purple. He's got this big coat that has outer space stitched on the inside of it. Why didn't I think of that design?"

"I will have to meet him," Elise said warmly. "I have a good feeling about this, though."

"Has there been any word on…?" Kain asked.

Sarah shook her head. "If he is deceased…then he has not found a way here."

"It could well be that he is lost forever," Celes added.

"No!" Elise barked, her demeanor suddenly shifting. "No. He isn't dead. That's why he isn't here. He'd find his way home in one plane or the other. I KNOW it. Which means he's going back to Radiant Garden. He'll find our children there, and new friends, perhaps even a new queen." A tear slid down her face. "I know my Ansem. He wouldn't give up."

"You sound way more broken up about him possibly being dead than you do about him moving on to a new woman," Evie pointed out.

"We've both moved on," Elise told her. "I will always love him. And that means that I don't want him to be held back by my memory. I want him to love again. I want to see him through her eyes…I want Kairi and Ienzo to have new family."

"With no offense meant," Sarah pointed out, "the two of you died together, having known only each other as your true love and with no time apart. As was the case for Celes and myself. They say it is easier for souls to accept new love into their living partners' lives after death…but we never even needed to contemplate such a thing."

"In that way, we were almost lucky," Celes added. "Though I would not have minded us having a few more years…"

"Have I mentioned lately that I hate my mom?" Evie groaned. "Because I hate my mom. But I guess thanks to her, we have this place now."

The conversation continued on yet, but Vexen only just now realized that he'd broken the chain by letting Deymos get ahead. He realized it because the others had stopped behind him, and Simon had rudely jabbed a finger into his back as a silent signal.

Right, Deymos was probably searching for them, waiting for Vexen to give the agreed-upon signal. Softly, Vexen began to tap out a particular pattern with his foot. The song to choose was easy, since it hadn't left his head from his departure of Enmu and likely wouldn't leave for another week.

Tap-tap-tap. What-is-love. Ba-by-don't-hurt-me. Don't-hurt-me. Don't-hurt me, no-more.

Almost immediately, Deymos' bubble joined back up with Vexen's. "Proud of you," he whispered softly with a smirk.

Vexen was ready to tell him off for making him tap out the song instead of doing it himself, but that would've given their position away to Elise. And oh, how tempted he was to break formation here, to leave his bubble of invisibility and try to strike her down, but she was a Composer, she had the home field advantage, and Vexen knew personally how difficult it was to stand against Evie's magic when she didn't have four allies.

At the back of the chamber, from a stone fountain carved in the shape of the heads of the seven dwarves (again, probably before such dwarves had been born), there cascaded a rainbow of ink, fueled by a machine that took up most of the room. This chamber had been built with one purpose only. That purpose had killed Elise and Sarah's father. Doubtless they chose this chamber to hold their conferences because it was a place of grief and remembrance.

Deymos hustled the line over to the ink waterfall. The back of the cavern gave way to a steep drop, and the rainbow ink poured down and down into a dark void. Deymos stumbled at the cliff's edge, suddenly not sure if this was actually a survivable trip, but Vexen solved that by just shoving him off the edge and then letting himself fall after. One by one, the others followed suit.

Vexen hit the rainbow ink; his vision was filled with psychedelic patterns, artistic shapes of all sorts, gorgeous enough to make Mim sick. Then, all at once, Vexen and his team stood in the living's counterpart of the chamber. No ink. No waterfall. No Elise, Sarah, Celes, Evie, or Kain.

"I'm sensing some baggage between you and those five," Victor taunted Vexen.

"Why don't you tell me more about your trauma?" Albert asked cheekily.

"We're NOT speaking of it," Vexen spat.

"F-fair," Agnus said flippantly. "We shall s-s-simply have to dr-drag the truth out by other m-means."

"We'll find out somehow!" Tsumugi teased.

"Chamberlain ALWAYS learns information," skekSil threatened.

"WILL YOU – " Vexen threw his arms outward in exasperation. "They were my former so-called 'friends,' if you must know! The princess who stole Ansem, her most grating sister, that sister's uptight wife, a traitor knight they welcomed back with open arms, and the most infuriating childhood companion I ever had!"

"Wait a sec," Deymos realized. "You're telling me we actually just SAW five of the original-and-now-dead members of BEES CAKE?"

It took Vexen a moment to put together his thoughts and respond. "…WHAT?"

"You know," Deymos urged. "Like how the eight who run our team are the WHAM ARMY. I tried to do a fun acronym thing like that for your guys' names." He ticked them off on his fingers. "Braig, Evie, you were Even back then, Sarah, Celes, Ansem, Kain, Elise. BEES CAKE. That's the best I got. Unless you'd rather go with CAKE BEES."

"Why not BEE CAKES?" Albert asked.

"Yeah?" Deymos said, looking to Vexen. "Why NOT 'BEE CAKES'?"
"Why are you asking me?" Vexen groaned. "That isn't even a name I hold anymore! Nor a group I wish to be associated with in the slightest! All they ever did was suppress me, hold me down, force me to hide my true self! And then, once the five of them were killed, Ansem turned traitor upon me, ignoring me, leaving me to my own devices while he busied himself with the fruit that fell from Elise's tree! You KNOW what happened to Braig after that."

"Yeah, I do," Deymos mused. "Anyway, since you didn't stop to clock them in the head with that shield or make BEES-CAKE-sicles, I'm guessing they pack a punch."

"Elise is now the Composer," Vexen told him, almost in awe. "A Netherworld lord. Because of course, if anyone would see fit to turn Hollow Bastion into Heaven, it would be HER. Beyond that, Kain was a trained member of the guard by age fifteen before his dishonorable discharge, Celes was CAPTAIN of the guard in her adulthood, and Elise and Sarah both are full-ranked Summoners. And worst of all, Eve's magic isn't to be reckoned with."

"Must run in the family, huh?" Deymos said. "Since her mom killed all five of them at once."

"…No, that is incorrect," Vexen said, suddenly a little unsure himself. "That seemed to be what she was implying, yes, but she did not confirm it, and it is by now well-documented that they were slain by the traitor Lightning Farron. A member of the guard, training under Celes and alongside Dilan and Aeleus. Lightning could not have been Eve's mother."

"Unless there's a secret being hidden," Vincent pointed out.

"And aren't you interested to know who they were welcoming in with open arms?" Victor added. "It sounds like knowing who's watching us from the afterlife might be useful information."

"You implied that I was not a more powerful summoner than the sisters combined," Arius broke in. "You implied that I could not stand against all five of them on my own!"

"J-just humor him," Agnus hissed.

"I see no need for any of this to continue," Vexen spat. "We will be moving on and preparing for our journey to Baaj. You have seen what you have seen and that is the END of it. Even in death, they remain insufferable. If only they knew what I TRULY had in their place!"

"I think you just said we're your REAL friends, and we make up for your childhood trauma," Simon observed.

"We love you too, Vexen!" Tsumugi chirped. "You're like our stodgy old grandpa who complains about how anime didn't have so many exposed breasts in his day!"

"SILENCE!" Vexen turned to storm out of the caverns.

"He loves us." Deymos gave a shrug before scurrying to catch up. "Soooo."

"I TOLERATE all of you," Vexen grumbled. Though that maybe was an understatement.

"I know," Deymos replied. "We gonna talk about how you used What Is Love to – "

"You. MADE. Me."

"I know. It paid off big-time."

"You know," Tsumugi said to the rest of the group, "even if he doesn't say it, I'm glad we're all friends."

Simon turned his head to hide his flushing. "Yeah. Sure. Me too. Whatever."

"I'm very glad that our past holds things far more lasting," Victor said with a knowing look to Vincent – and then one to Albert. Each nodded at him.

"And now," Arius declared, "I have no choice but to PROVE my worth as a summoner. You will all see my true might!"

With that, they all got moving.

...

In the heart of the Crystal of Eos, two new people came into being, fashioned by the gods. Fully-grown, they knew the basics of life and humanity's workings, but not the specifics of the gods who had made them, the culture that had fed them, the history they were entering into.

They awoke, one male, one female, in the expanse of the gods, aurora lights stretching out across the blue as far as the eye could see. Pinpricks of light, perhaps stars, winked in and out of brightness.

The man had steel-gray hair, cut short but shaggy, uneven bangs flopping into his mismatched eyes. Blue on the right, red on the left. He was clothed in black, jacket and pant and shirt, with gray-plaid accents.

The woman was brunette, her hair hanging long. She wore a dress of pure white, its skirt flowing and sparkling.

They pried their eyes open as they floated in the Crystal's interior, and the sight before them was incredible. Five gods, perhaps monsters, were arranged in front of them. Titan, the Archaean, was an immense muscular man made of pure earth and stone. Ramuh, the Fulgurian, an elderly man clad in sorcerer's robes, his lengthy beard sparking with electricity. Leviathan, the Hydraean, a blue sea serpent that wound around her comrades in loops. Shiva, the Glacian, a pale white creature shaped like a human but lacking all the color of one and dressed in only the minimal clothing required to pass as one. And at their center, there was an enormous and breathtaking armored dragon covered in blades: Bahamut, the Draconian. These were the Astrals, Guardians of Eos, save for one traitor who had been ousted. And while they had sprung from Eos, there were other worlds that had benefitted from their godhood – worlds that, for example, channeled beasts forged of these gods' energies and bearing their names.

Upon seeing the Five (well, the Six, but yet again, there was no way Ifrit would be convinced anymore to join in such things), the young woman gave a polite nod. "Good day."

"Why are we here?" the man barked. "Who ARE we? Did you take our memories?"

"Do not be rude!" the woman urged him. She bowed her head. "I apologize for my companion. I do not know – or perhaps do not remember – who he is, but since we have come together, I assume we are in partnership."

"You are new beings," Bahamut told them. "New humans forged by the Astrals to contend with times of turbulence. There is a disturbance in the balance of Light and Dark, and something has been undone that should never have been undone. You were created with purpose: to set the balance right once more."

"New beings," the man repeated. "So we didn't exist until just now. You made us."

"That is correct," said Bahamut. "You have been given names by us as well." He nodded to the man. "You are Yozora Lucis Caelum." Then to the woman. "And you are Stella Nox Fleuret."

"Stella," Stella repeated. "I do like the sound of it. It reminds me of the stars."

"What is our purpose?" asked Yozora. "And who said I wanted any part of it?"

"I am – " Stella began.

"You need not continue to apologize for him," interrupted Shiva. "Your destinies are linked by the stars, to each other and to King and Oracle past. Yet your hearts and names belong to each of you alone."

Leviathan let out a growl in a language that neither Yozora nor Stella understood, but it was clear she was angry.

"Do not dismiss them before they have even begun their divine work," Bahamut snarled at her.

"They shall prove their worth," Shiva added. "Yet it is essential that they are mortal, not divine, and given to mortal foibles. Allow them moments of weakness in order to prove their greater strengths."

Leviathan made another growling grumble. This went ignored.

"There has come an atrocity," Bahamut explained. "Eos was host to a great battle between the Darkest Darkness and the brightest Light. A plague, the Starscourge, brought long nights and daemons to this shining world. He who carried it was none other than the spurned heir of the Lucis Caelum line, Ardyn Lucis Caelum. Taking the name of Izunia to replace his own, Ardyn achieved an immortal life and sought to transcend his own form, allying with the traitor Astral Ifrit to bring all of Eos to heel."

"He was defeated by the King of Kings," Shiva picked up. "Noctis Lucis Caelum, the last of the line. This king was assisted by the Oracle, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, but not without the price of her very life. Only King and Oracle together could battle the beast Ardyn. Noctis gave his life to end Ardyn, joining Lunafreya in the rest beyond. The survival of Eos rested upon their sacrifice."

"Then came the atrocity," Bahamut snarled. "The Lord of the Dead seeks to usurp our pantheon and many others, urged forth by a faery consumed with greed. Ardyn's spirit spoke in collusion with the Lord of the Dead, and now he walks the soil of many worlds yet again. The Starscourge is soon to return in his wake and spread far beyond Eos."

"He has broken his half of the sacrifice," said Shiva quite solemnly. "Yet it cannot justify breaking that of Noctis and Lunafreya. They have given, that price paid in full. Now they rest after sorrow and suffering immense. To retrieve them would be to risk the balance achieved upon their sacrifice…and to disturb the fate they have so well earned and deserved."

A shining window of light opened up between the two new humans and the five Astrals. Through it, they could see the heroes spoken of, dancing alone in a regal ballroom, a replica of the Insomnia Citadel's facility. Noctis' hair was dark gray, cut in a way that formed peaks; he wore a black shirt, black jacket, black pants. Lunafreya's platinum-blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail; her slender, pale form was clothed in white. They whirled about the ballroom, Noctis leading the dance, smiling at each other more and more on every turn.

It was easy to see the parallels. "Am I Lady Lunafreya?" Stella asked.

"And is that Noctis person supposed to be me?" Yozora added.

"No," Bahamut stated, and the window closed, leaving Noctis and Lunafreya to privacy. "You are new souls, created from pieces of the past."

"The Starscourge could only be bested by the King of Kings, an heir of Lucis Caelum," Shiva explained. "He was to be given divine assistance by the Oracle of House Fleuret. Yet with the death of those you have seen before you, both bloodlines have ended. There are no new heirs."

"And so we have created those heirs ourselves," Bahamut said. "Fragments of each King and each Oracle throughout history, from Somnus Lucis Caelum and Aera Mirus Fleuret to Noctis Lucis Caelum and Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, exist in you. Yozora Lucis Caelum, you are to be the King, and Stella, you are to be the Oracle. These are the purposes to which you have been designed."

"I never asked for this," Yozora spat.

This made Shiva laugh. "There is much Crepera in you, it is clear. With the conviction of Somnus and the rage of Tonitrus."

Stella bowed her head. "I will gladly accept my destiny," she said, "but how can I ever hope to live up to what you expect of me?"

"And you are very much Aera," Shiva chuckled.

"Am I to understand our purpose is to slay Ardyn Izunia, the Starscourge, once more and restore the balance?" Stella asked.

"Yes," Bahamut confirmed. "That is your purpose."

"And when that's over," Yozora asked, "what happens to us?"
"You may rest also," Bahamut said.

"What if…I do not want to rest?" Stella asked. "What if I wish to live?"

"Then the circumstances must be correct," Shiva told her. "It will be no easy path. More than likely you will perish as opposed to living."

"I understand," said Stella.

"It's a rough deal," said Yozora, "but it sounds pretty straightforward. Kill Ardyn, and we never have to think about any of this again."

"Unless, of course, the Lord of the Dead sees fit to resurrect him again," Stella realized. "Our task is not a simple one. We must learn a way to seal him from existence for good. Perhaps…we must keep him alive, so he cannot be resurrected, but ensure he can never be found in his existence."

"An admirable initiative," Shiva told her.

"Your quest will begin on Eos," Bahamut said, "but even we Astrals know not where Ardyn roams. He may be hiding in Eos' shadow, or he may have traveled to other stars. Such is for you to learn."

"You will have our blessing and our power," Shiva continued. "Stella shall be able to conduct elements of thunder, ice, water, earth, and Light. Not fire, to great sorrow. Yozora shall be gifted weapons, new Lucian Arms never before seen. You may call out to us in times of trouble, but know that we may not always answer, for the concerns of a god are many. When answers do arrive, they may not be as you wish them."

Leviathan gave another hissing growl.

"Leviathan wishes to remain undisturbed by mortals evermore," Bahamut told them. "A call upon her will be all but worthless."

"In a mortal's form, I shall walk Eos to watch your progress." Shiva's colors became suddenly more human: peach-colored skin, raven-black hair, deep-green eyes, and colorful robes. "Refer to me as Gentiana in the company of mortals. The rest is in your hands, a fate of your making. Your quest may take you years to complete, perhaps decades."

"You have no choice but to accept," Bahamut said. "Decline or disobey and you shall be terminated and built anew, with different names. Such is our power."

"I wish to accept no matter what," Stella urged. "If Ardyn is to bring demons and sickness upon the innocent…I cannot let him continue such a thing!"

"I'm no fan of him either," said Yozora. "I'm not happy about having to do this. But I don't have to be. I understand this is bigger than me. I accept your destiny, because other people depend on it."

Shiva smiled. "As has chosen every King before thee."

"You will now receive your weapons," said Bahamut, "and then you shall be seen to Eos, where your destiny lies within your own choices."

Yozora instinctively raised his hands to receive the new divine weapons. The Astrals had taken on inspiration from more modern mortal technology for the creation of these weapons: a handheld crossbow and a sword with a blazing-red edge, one for each of Yozora's hands. Yozora soon found he was able to fold both away into smaller sizes, retracting the glowing blade so they would both hang at his sides and out of the way.

Stella received a thin rapier, one that looked unassuming on the outside, but prickled to the touch. Stella could feel its connection to ancient and divine magics. The spark of lightning, the chill of ice, the slight pulsation of water.

"You will be sent with one final boon," said Shiva. "A suggestion. Make your way to the city Lestallum. It is unknown if you will find Ardyn or any other enemy there. What does lie within those streets is a set of hearts that resonate with your own."

"Lestallum," Stella repeated. "I understand!"

"Do not fail," Bahamut rumbled.

The last thing Stella and Yozora heard before the Crystal's interior faded from view was Leviathan's hiss. No doubt expressing her doubt that any of this would come to any good. Perhaps even asking to have the humans terminated before they could even begin.

The two stood now on an island, desolate and unpopulated. "We should make our way to Lestallum," Stella said.

"You're sure?" Yozora asked.

Stella nodded. "The Glacian believed we would have friends there. I think we will need friends for what is to come."

"Maybe." Yozora gave a soft shrug. "Can't hurt. First thing is to find a way off this island."

"There must be a harbor," Stella mused.

"Let's find out," Yozora suggested.

The two of them set out across Angelgard, on their way to discover an abandoned boat that could carry them to the mainland.

...

Morgana immediately fired the full blast of the trident toward Vor. A planar shield appeared before Vor, conducted by her Keyblade, and when the trident's magic hit, it was reflected right back around. Prisma quickly constructed a crystal shield, a dome curved out toward the blast, to deflect it around the WHAM ARMY, spraying like water that came dangerously close to splashing.

Taking advantage of the diversion, Wuya flashed behind Vor, leaping with bursts of magic loaded in hand. She plunged both sparking hands toward Vor only to be repelled by another shield, one that flew directly to her and launched her across the room.

"It seems our friend's speciality is Barrier," Vor chuckled. "Not a very versatile spell…unless paired with a dark and creative mind."

The ground rumbled. "MAX?" Darla screeched. "WHAT'S GOING ON?"

Then shimmering, opalescent walls rose from the ground, titanium-tough and razor edged, forcing Yzma, Wuya, Mera, Prisma, Morgana, Max and Darla to back away from each other and avoid getting sliced. When they reached the safe points, the walls hit the ceiling, effectively sealing them all in a labyrinth that obscured the great hall of Yzmatopia.

"And now," Vor declared, "let's add a bit of my own magic to the mix!"

She glided through the maze effortlessly, knowing every twist, every turn, for the design was in her own mind. Mera saw her briefly and launched shards of mirror toward her, only for the glass to hit the next nearby Barrier and shatter uselessly. Vor flitted past Prisma's field of vision; Prisma sent an array of pointed crystal-arrows that just barely missed her.

"What is she doing?" Yzma wondered aloud when Vor breezed past her. Wasn't she supposed to be trying to attack and extinguish the WHAM ARMY?

The walls shifted, creating a circular clearing for Vor alone. She settled there, fixing her mind's eye on where she'd seen each and every opponent in her maze. Then she aimed her Keyblade forward, concentrating on her targets.

A Shotlock spell exploded from the blade: a great Barrier that shattered into chunky fragments. Those fragments then took off down the corridors, seeking the targets Vor had sought out.

"GAH!" Yzma turned tail to run from the sharpened bludgeons that were now following her. Elsewhere in the maze, Prisma was repelling them with crystals, Mera had conjured a pair of mirror-skates to use for a quick escape as though in an ice rink, Wuya and Morgana blasted Vor's Shotlock apart with their own magic, and Max cradled Darla in the crook of one arm while he used the other to punch the magic (and he was large and durable enough that it actually worked).

On the run, Yzma and Mera crossed paths. Then, with a loud "WAIT WAIT WAIT," they turned to run back toward each other so they could stick together. Once they faced each other, Yzma yelled "DUCK!" and ducked the incoming Shotlock.

"DUCK?" Mera panicked. "WHERE? WHERE'S THE DUCK? GET RID OF IT!"

Yzma seized her arm and wrenched her down. The Shotlock blasts that pursued them collided with each other, the Barrier bludgeons shattering on impact.

"…Oh, you meant – okay," Mera panted, hand on her chest. "Spare me the heart attack next time. Also." She stood up. "That was my joint attack with Indus and now I'm FUCKING MAD."

"All right, hear me out," Yzma told Mera. "I have a plan. You're not going to like it."

"I don't think I could like anything less than what's happening to us right now, so hit me."

"We kill Indus' body and her with it," Yzma said.

Mera blinked. "You're right. I don't like that plan. I thought this was supposed to be a whole 'squad goals' kind of thing. What the hell makes you think – "

"THIS!" Yzma held an object up high.

Mera raised a brow. "A compact mirror?"

"No, no, no, that's the wrong – " Yzma rummaged around in her bag. "THIS!"

"THAT is a bath bomb," Mera told her. "Wanna try again?"
"No," Yzma corrected, "it's a DEATH bomb! It can resurrect any soul! We kill Indus, we drive out Vor, and then we bring Indus back good as new!"

"I'm gonna believe you because you've pulled weirder magic already," Mera growled, "but if this doesn't work and I lose Indus, you lose your FUCKING HEAD."

Yzma nodded. "Duly noted."

Wuya skidded into their meeting spot. "Don't stand STILL!" she yelled, seizing both their arms and pulling them into a run. "She's firing more!"

Another Shotlock was rounding the corner from behind them. Yet another came from around front, and Wuya disposed of it with a few quick moves. "I can't do this all day, you know!" she hissed.

"I need a shot at Vor!" Yzma said. "Break down these walls!"

"Break them down?" Mera flinched. "These are Indus-grade Barriers!"

"Why does this always happen to me?" Yzma hissed.

"No, she's got a point," Wuya told her. "I've BEEN trying to break them down. No way Morgana hasn't been trying the same thing. And – "

They glimped Max and Darla's confinement as they barreled through the maze. Max was throwing his entire body at the wall, keeping Darla pivoted out of the way. Over and over he collided with it, and the wall had nary a crack.

"How long has he been doing that?" Yzma asked.

"The whole time," Darla sighed dryly.

The others skidded in to circle up around Darla and Max. "We need to find Prisma," Mera panted.

"And Morgana," Wuya said.

"Or we could just find Vor and end it right away," Yzma argued.

Then Prisma and Morgana came hurrying into the same chamber of the maze, crowding it. "Is it just me," Morgana asked, "or has this maze been bigger than the hall it's supposed to be inside of?"
"I'm guessing she has some spatial manipulation going on," Wuya said. "Any way she can construe a Barrier, and if that means the barrier to her own pocket dimension of madness, then it works."

"How is she DOING THIS?" Mera yelled.

"It's that key," Wuya told her. "It's a magic wand and a Swiss army knife in a sword-sized package. Why does she HAVE one?"

"The legend of Vor is that she was the originator of the Wicked Nine," Prisma said, "but – "

"HEADS UP!" Wuya barked. She and Morgana began obliterating the incoming Shotlocks.

"But it never added up!" Prisma called out. "The Wicked Nine weren't connected to her! It's only a legend! Nothing backs up that story! But you know what has PLENTY of evidence? The idea that she observed Maleficent from the shadows and used her as inspiration to become a dark sorceress!"

"Never thought I'd be defending Maleficent," Wuya grumbled, "but Vor is such an obvious knockoff it's hilarious."

"There was only one tome that mentioned anything that sounded right!" Prisma went on. "It said Vor came here from another realm, a 'stairway to the sky'! She must've observed the Wicked Nine that were alive in her lifetime and taken inspiration from them! And those keys are what people use to travel around those worlds!"

"Well, that backstory certainly helps us out with THIS problem!" Yzma spat. "How are we supposed to get a shot at her with this maze in the way?"

The maze immediately disappeared.

"…Well, that was convenient," Yzma commented.

Vor strode toward them, Keyblade poised. "It's no fun when you all find each other," she mocked. "Let's split you up again and play a little more Hide-and-Seek!"

The floor rumbled.

"NOT AGAIN!" Yzma yelled.

With a growl, Prisma stabbed her Terra Crystal into the ground, creating a layer of diamond over top of the floor upon which they already stood. Wuya added her own magic to speed it along. The labyrinth's foundations were now trapped beneath them.

"Not bad for a self-appointed faux Crystal Master who doesn't know what she's doing," Vor teased.

"I don't know what I'M doing?" Prisma spat. "All you've been able to do is copy! You copied Maleficent, you copied the Wicked Nine, and you're copying Indus right now!"

"Copy?" Vor said with a smirk. "I suppose you could think of it that way. After all, it was my specialty of study, though I used to think it was meant for buffing others' magic while working on teams. But why study one discipline when you can learn how to augment them ALL?"

"Because it's still COPYING!" Prisma stamped her foot. "At least I'm original!"

"Also, are you trying to dump some kind of tragic backstory on us here?" Morgana groaned. "Because we don't have time for that."

Vor scowled. "All I'll say is that you might think you're friends now. But sooner or later, you'll find out that you're just all alone among people who will throw you aside for power. The only reason you're together is because you're USEFUL to each other. And now?" She cackled. "I'll finally be useful to HIM."

"Boy drama?" Yzma cried. "REALLY?"

"Oh, before I forget – " Vor put up a Barrier. Max's fist, which he'd been winding up from behind while the others distracted her, collided with it, and he let out a pitiful "Ow."

"Wha – " Morgana flinched. "Not fair!"

"We didn't even get to say anything about keeping you talking," Mera groaned. "That's, like, the best part of doing that gambit."

"Hmm…then maybe you should STOP talking." Vor raised her blade high to the ceiling.

Patchy Barriers appeared, covering it at random intervals.

"HA!" Yzma taunted. "How much of an imbecile do you have to be to protect the CEILING instead of yourself? That isn't even – "

"GET DOWN!" Wuya tackled Yzma, making sure the two of them flew far from where they'd been standing. The Barrier overhead dropped, slamming into the floor. It would have crushed Yzma immediately.

"Ohhh, I get it now," Yzma said from beneath Wuya.

"Incoming!" Wuya drew Yzma close to her chest with one arm, pushing off on the other to roll out of the way of another dropping Barrier.

Morgana was spinning through the air to evade the Barriers herself, repeatedly frustrated with how the trident's fire bounced right off them. Max just stood in place, covering Darla with an arm, as the same Barrier slammed into him again and again. Once more, his immense size made it little more than a nuisance, and as the Barrier dropped, Max simply said "Ow. Ow. Ow."

Prisma froze in place as a Barrier dropped over her and Mera. She fumbled for her Terra Crystal, dropped it, and then resigned herself to her fate.

"NO!" Mera raised a hand toward the sky. The Barrier suddenly shattered.

Vor stumbled back. "But – but HOW?"

"I've always been able to break Indus' Barriers." Mera glared at her. "See, the others have been trying to break them by shooting things at them, and I see where they're coming from. But I'm not even firing anything. My power is – "

"Fragility itself," Vor realized. "The mirrors. And here I thought you a vitrumancer."

"Nnnnnope," Mera said smugly. Then: "That's – that's like a glass mage, right?"

"Yes it is," Prisma confirmed.

"Anyway, you know what?" Mera growled. "I've had about ENOUGH."

She stamped a foot, and every single Barrier broke.

"WH – WHY DIDN'T YOU DO THAT IN THE MAZE?" Yzma yelled.

Mera flinched and didn't answer.

"WELL, DO IT AGAIN!" Yzma yelled at her. "EVERYONE, ATTACK!"

"I'll turn her into a sea louse!" Morgana yelled, firing the trident at full blast.

"I'll give her a few new beauty marks," Wuya snarled, sending her own magic at Vor.

Yzma loaded up the atlatl with a potion-tipped dart. "This ought to be good."

Vor conjured a sphere of Barrier to surround her. The three projectiles hurtled toward her –

And bounced off the Barrier. Wuya had to quickly shield herself from Morgana's blow, Morgana shielded herself from Wuya's, and Yzma sidestepped her own dart.

"Oh, too bad!" Vor raised her blade, transforming her shield into another Shotlock.

"MERA!" Yzma yelled. "WHY DIDN'T YOU DO ANYTHING?"

"She's still…" Mera trembled."

"Oh, for the love of – " Yzma was suddenly dodging more Barrier chunks. "I'VE TOLD YOU HE'LL BE FINE!"

"IT'S NOT LIKE HE CAN CALL THIS 'LIVING' ANYWAY!" Wuya yelled.

Mera shook her head, conjuring another set of skates to pirouette around the Shotlock debris. "I can't do it!"

"Mera!" Prisma gave herself ice skates of crystal, playing them off the diamond floor she'd made earlier. She skated toward Mera, taking her hands, and the pair began to skate as though a pair in a competition of figures. "Trust me! Indus will be okay! Even if their plan doesn't work, we can try something else! We can go into Hades' Underworld, or there's an isle dedicated to necromancy – I promise we'll find a way to save him, and I always keep my promises!"

They lifted into a leaping spin together. When they landed, Mera locked eyes with Prisma. "Okay," she said hoarsely. "I trust you."

"ONE MORE!" Morgana yelled, taking out the last of the Shotlock blast.

"BREAK IT THIS TIME, WILL YOU?" Yzma barked as she loaded her atlatl.

"Yeah, yeah!" Mera groaned.

Trident, Heylin magic, and potion were once again launched. Vor put up the Barrier around herself, taunting, "You wouldn't REALLY harm him. You're still weak enough to belief in fri – "

With a scream, Mera shattered Vor's Barrier. Vor had a split second to contemplate her situation before she was slammed with the three magics.

Morgana, Wuya, and Yzma had all chosen "insect" as their punishment of choice. As such, the form Vor melted into looked much like three large insects melted together. She struggled to control her many limbs, collapsing into a puddle on the floor.

"I'll turn her into a flea," Yzma said. "A harmless little flea. And then I'll put that flea inside of a box – "

Vor was attempting to scuttle away. Mera quickly surrounded her with mirror shards, fencing her in.

"Then I'll put that box inside of another box – " Yzma said, grinning widely.

Prisma conjured a crystal dome over Vor, making sure she couldn't go anywhere.

"And I'll SMASH IT WITH A HAMMER!" Yzma crowed, leaping into the air.

Max held out both fists over the dome. Vor's many eyes blinked up at him in horror.

"Crush her, Max!" Darla pointed a shaking finger. "Crush her crush her CRUUUUSH HEEEEER!"

So Max did, bringing down both fists with full force. Crystal and mirror fragments exploded outward. The insect was smashed to a pulp.

"A-HAHAHAHAHA!" Yzma screamed. "IT'S BRILLIANT, BRILLIANT, BRILLIANT!"

"I thought there was a step in there where you mailed the box to yourself," Wuya pointed out.

"I didn't want to pay postage fees," Yzma explained.

The ghostly spirit of Vor rose from the crushed insect body, glaring at her opponents. "You've won the battle," she snarled, "but not the war. The Keyblade War, to be precise. I have an old friend to catch up with, and I know he'll be able to find me a vessel. After all, he's got at least four for himself now. When next you see me, I'll be a Seeker of DARKNESS!"

With that, she rocketed away, leaving the shards and carnage behind.

"That better not have meant what I think it meant," Wuya growled.

"INDUS," Mera snarled. "NOW!"

"All right, all right, hold your horses!" Yzma brought out the object –

"THAT'S YOUR PHONE!" Mera screamed.

Yzma quickly swapped it out for the Death Bomb. "Ahem. Morgana, water please."

Morgana created a whirlpool of water that stood of its own accord, whirling over the diamond floor. Yzma tossed in the Death Bomb. There was an immediate spark, a flash of light.

Indus stepped out of the whirlpool, shaking his head. "I have no idea what just happened," he said, "but I am definitely alive!" Then he saw the crushed bug that was once his body. "Whoever that is was not so lucky."

"INDUS!" Mera gasped. Then she forced a frown. "Good. You made it. After the most epic screwup you've ever made, it was the least you could do."

"Letting Vor out may have been a mistake," Indus admitted. "Oh! And I am supposed to tell you that the others are locked in the prison-slash-treasure-room and brainwashed."
"Because of course they are," Wuya groaned. "Come on. Let's sort it out."

Most of the group, Indus included, moved out to head for the tower of forbidden treasures. Mera, however, stood in place, wobbling slightly, and when Prisma saw this, she hung back as well.

"Here." Prisma summoned a chair of brilliant crystal. Mera sank into it immediately. "And have these!" Prisma handed her one, two, three plushy pastel pillows adorned with crystal.

Mera slid one pillow behind her back, then cuddled the other two, lowering her face down into the topmost pillow. Careful not to lean into any of the crystal studs. "Thanks," she said, muffled through the pillow.

Prisma then made a chair for herself and sat down by Mera. "Indus means a lot to you," she said.

"He's not my boyfriend, if that's what you're getting at," Mera groaned. "He's just the only person I really ever had up until now."

"I understand." Prisma nodded. "Friends are important. You know, I don't believe what that old witch said about friendships being based on how useful we are to each other."

"Me either," Mera sighed, tilting her face so that one eye and half of her mouth were exposed to Prisma. "It's still under my skin a little."

"Well, she's wrong. End of story. Whoever it is she's trying to impress just doesn't want to be her friend, and she needs to get used to that." A pause. "So…you and Indus have had adventures together before we met?"
"Yeah. Loads. We went all around the world looking for a cure for…" Mera vaguely gestured at herself. "So this doesn't happen."

"But you did so wonderful in the fight!" Prisma told her. "You deserve to rest."

"Still hurts."

"Hmm. That does stink. Hm, why don't you tell me more about how you and Indus traveled around the world? That might take your mind off the pain!"

"They're long and boring stories," Mera grumbled. "You sure you wanna hear 'em?"

"I'd want to hear about them even if you weren't in pain," Prisma said. "Promise. And you know by now I always keep my promises."

Mera gave a weak smile. "Believe it or not, we ate sand once. Don't eat sand. But the reason we had to eat sand is we were crossing the world's largest desert, and guess who forgot to pack enough rations, and guess who got us lost…"

"Indus, right?"

"No. Me. I was an idiot that week."

Upstairs, Yzma and Wuya had finished freeing the imprisoned sidekicks while Morgana and Darla oohed and aahed at some of the forbidden artifacts. "Y'know, you really oughta thank us," the Lobster Mobster said. "Thanks to us, you know about that witch that's on the playing field."

"If it weren't for you," Yzma seethed, "she wouldn't BE on the playing field!"

"Hey, I just – ain't delayin' the inevitable!" the Lobster Mobster argued. "She woulda found some poor sap to exploit anyway, so we made it happen on our terms instead so we wouldn't be surprised!"

"None of this was my idea, you know," Undertow broke in.

"Suuuuure it wasn't," Morgana scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Say!" Twitch, now a weasel, scampered up to Yzma. "You gals have some kinda operation going on here, right? It's pretty lonely bein' the only Strangeling on the Isle of Protectors, and I haven't even managed to steal anything neat yet! Whaddaya say I help you out runnin' this new Yzmopolis gig if you let me tag along?"

"What can you bring to the table?" Wuya asked.

Twitch transformed into a majestic black alicorn with a white diamond on his chest. He gave a coy wink.

"Now that's a horse of a different color," Yzma remarked. "All right, you're in. You can't be any worse than these degenerates anyhow."

Morgana slapped Undertow as he got closer to one of the artifacts. "No touching!" Morgana spat. "We don't need ANOTHER ghost witch taking over our turf!"

"You were lookin' at the same thing!" Undertow barked.

Yzma sighed. "Though I really out to put a cap on how many idiots I let into this outfit."

"It's almost like you're compensating for one extra-dumb idiot you happen to miss," Wuya taunted.

"Never!" Yzma hissed. "At least now, we have more competent allies than we have – "

Outside the window of the tower, a magical pink cloud floated by. Max rode it, giving a dry, drawn out "Wheeeeeeeeee."

"I need to stop talking," Yzma sighed. "Let's just re-redecorate and get rid of that Keyblade woman's awful renovations."

...

Mozenrath explained the next destination as he led the way through the Corridor of Darkness. "The warrior I want to recruit comes from the world of Eos. Well, 'came.' The way I understand it, he exploded fantastically, as many of the WHAM ARMY tend to do, though I'm getting conflicting reports about when exactly he blew his top. Now, know what you're thinking: couldn't we have just resurrected him in the Lost Lounge of the Sun and been done with it? Well, it just so happens that Eos is the setting of one of the territories I've had my eye on the longest since learning about it. A territory I want to add to our empire once the POTATO is up and running. I hate that it's called that. Anyway, we're looking at the jewel of Accordo, a city with layers and levels, a city that incorporated the sea into its very being: the city of Altissia AAAAAAND IT'S UNDERWATER."

He'd exited the Corridor only to find a half-flooded ruin that had definitely been a metropolis at some point. The Huntsman, Miratrix, Albel, and Jihl took their places at his side.

"I fail to see how this is the jewel of anything," Jihl said with a smirk.

"IT WASN'T LIKE THIS!" Mozenrath ranted. "Altissia is supposed to be a gorgeous city with a thriving economy and a booming population of people that can be pressed into doing our bidding! WHAT HAPPENED? IS THIS WHY I COULD NEVER FIND TEXTS ON IT FROM ANY MORE RECENT THAN TEN YEARS AGO?"

"You brought us here on a foundation of decade-old research?" Albel snorted. "And you didn't expect anything of this sort to happen? Fool."

"It looks like it was razed by a Megazord," Miratrix observed. "Or twelve."

The Huntsman sighed. "It seems Altissia is a lost cause. Let us resurrect our target and be on our – "

"I do NOT accept this!" Mozenrath yelled. "When I want something, I GET IT. And I want a gorgeous waterfront city populated with mooks ripe for the controlling!"

With a wave of his hand, he channeled a sizeable amount of magic into the city block on which they stood. Buildings repaired themselves, piecing back together from the debris.

"Mozenrath, DO NOT do that to the entire city," the Huntsman growled. "You will die."

"It's also more work than I signed up for," Mozenrath groaned. "No, we'll need a workforce to rebuild the rest of it. Search the city for any trace of surviving – "

"The target?" the Huntsman sighed.

"Fine." Mozenrath waved his hand. "Here you go. Brigadier General Lo – "

Nothing was happening.

"Excuse me?" Mozenrath glowered at the empty street where their target should be. "I know my magic wasn't off." Yet he did anyway try again to resurrect the target, and again…

"NO!" Mozenrath growled. "His soul is being locked away somewhere! Hades must've seen us coming!"

"Why would Hades target one specific recruit out of all those we've had to resurrect so far?" the Huntsman groaned.

"TO GET MY GOAT!" Mozenrath yelled. "We'll deal with this later. For now, start scouring for survivors!"

"You can't make us act as your search party!" Miratrix barked. "This city is enormous!"

"I can," Mozenrath insisted, "I will, I AM, and yes it is, so you'd better get moving!"

Albel's hand went to his sword, but Miratrix tapped his forearm; "It isn't worth it." The two of them turned to set off into the city, inevitably setting a contest as to who could find survivors first.

The Huntsman and Jihl also set off into the city, aiming to at least wander around long enough to humor Mozenrath. Jihl had to admit it was at least a beautiful ruin; judging by what Mozenrath had fixed, the original was better, but there was still something wonderful and melancholy about the way the fallout was scattered. In fact, the further she went, heading for the higher tiers, the more she was entranced by what had once been Altissia, not actually minding the opportunity to observe for a while.

She hadn't thought she would actually find a living person. When she saw the shape of one at the edge of a road, standing at a precipice that overlooked the murky sea, she at first thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. No, that was definitely a person. Smirking proudly, Jihl quickened her pace.

The man didn't move, letting Jihl walk right up next to him. "Gorgeous view," she said coyly. As she turned to get a better look at the man himself, she realized her words could apply to a little more than just the wreckage of the city. His hair was golden-blond, grown long and shaggy with neglect. His face was curved into a delicate yet prominent pout. He wore dark armor that had probably at one point been polished to perfection, but now was full of dents and gaps.

"It's everything I lost," he said in frustration. "A ruined city for a ruined life."

"Are things really so bad?" Jihl teased. "Obviously you haven't seen a salon or a boutique for a while. Or perhaps not even human civilization. But you don't have to stay here and stare out into the sea."

He clenched a fist. "Once I was feared and revered," he explained, voice shaking with anger. "A brigadier general for Niflheim. I would have followed the command of Chancellor Izunia anywhere. He gave me purpose, reason, something to fight for. The blood I shed painted a glorious trail in Niflheim's image. Then he ended the war knowingly by uniting all Eos under his own rule, leaving no more place for me. After all he'd done for me – made me who I am! It's thanks to him that this city is a ruin. It's thanks to him that this WORLD is a ruin! With no room for the armies of Niflheim. For ten years, I have attempted to rise from the ashes. And for ten years, I have been treated like ash indeed!"

"Do you tell your story at random to everyone you meet," Jihl asked, "or am I special?"

"What else have I to lose?" the man replied. "I don't wish to die. But I can't call this living. I am nothing if not my tragedy, where before I was nothing if not loyal to Niffleheim! That is all that is worth discussing. If it displeases you, take your business elsewhere."

"I never said it did that," Jihl replied. "You know, we're actually looking for a brigadier general, but with a caveat. He perished a decade ago. Died in a mech explosion, either in a standoff at a blockade or at some sort of assassin festival, or at some garrison someplace. History hasn't entirely decided."

(To those wondering why Mozenrath would even bother bringing up such a thing in his monologue if the Huntsman had told everyone the recruit's name and biography before they even decided to set out, those have obviously forgotten how much Mozenrath likes to hear the sound of his own voice.)

The man slowly turned to gape at Jihl. "No," he said breathily. "No, he didn't. He survived all three times, and no one expected him to, which is why they reported my death not once, not twice, but thrice." A pause. "You'd heard of me."

"So that's why he couldn't resurrect you!" Jihl teased. "You were never dead. Cheeky. General Loqi Tummelt, I assume?"
Loqi's awe turned into a mile-wide smirk. "But of course. Finally, someone recognizes the true mark I have made on this world!"

"Police Chief Jihl Nabaat," Jihl replied, "though most would call me the Saboteur. And right now, I think they should call me the most valuable player, because…" She broke into a soft singsong. "Iiiii found the gen-eraaal!"

"Why did you seek me out?" Loqi asked. He winced away; "Not to prosecute me and bring me to some warped idea of justice."

"Of course not." Jihl rolled her eyes. "We want the Loqi who has committed war crimes because we're in need of more war crimes. And also victory in a death tournament. How do you feel about winner-take-all scenarios?"
"Though I am not fond of the idea of dying simply for its own sake," Loqi replied, "I will gladly die in pursuit of greater glory."
"That's the spirit," Jihl told him. "And you said that before I added the part about us having a necromancer who could undo it if you ended up dead anyhow. You wouldn't put yourself back if we did that, would you?"
"Not if there were other opportunities ahead."

"Just out of curiosity," Jihl asked, "what would be the most…enticing opportunity you could imagine?"

"My whole life I had wished to best Cor Leonis in battle and execute him," Loqi replied. "…Chancellor Izunia stole that from me as well. He perished against a Cerberus daemon in the assault on Insomnia. A Cerberus! Cor the Immortal! A hilarious irony if not for how truly PATHETIC it is. Now I am without a rival, without a goal, without a war to wage. Bring me to your death tournament. Perhaps it is there I shall find my true conquest." He clenched a fist.

"You know, I like your spark," Jihl said. "You've got, what do they call it? Chutzpah. And apparently insatiable bloodlust as well."

"And you have a way with words," Loqi replied. "Do tell me you have the same skill in combat."

"Actually, you just missed watching me brutally murder an alien riding a go-kart. Which was more difficult than it sounds on paper. Actually, we've got it on tape – or on magic, I guess – back at the lounge."

"What are you WAITING for?" Loqi reached out, seizing Jihl by the forearms. "Take me to this new purpose! Show me the army I can bolster! What is this army called, again?"

Jihl needed a moment to collect herself, because his eyes glittered and his touch was fierce and his face had the most perfect shape she'd ever seen. "You're not going to believe it, but it's called the WHAM ARMY."

"…Really?"

"Unfortunately. It is an acronym, if that makes it better."

"Mildly. It also wouldn't be an understatement to say I'm desperate."

"I can see that." Jihl playfully flicked at his unkempt locks. "We'll need to get you cleaned up a bit before things get under way."

Now Loqi was the one to pause awkwardly, and Jihl wondered: was he now flustered by her? That would be an interesting development indeed.

She ended up leading him back to the repaired district and sending out a signal for everyone to return to base. The first order of business was for Mozenrath to sputter angrily about how he'd known Loqi was alive the whole time, and the second order was for Jihl to rub it in Albel and Miratrix's face that they'd found no one and she'd found exactly the person they were looking for. The third order was actual business.

"Bring me to your death tournament," Loqi reiterated. "I wish to prove myself once again. This time, all will recognize my true power!"

"We shall," said the Huntsman, "but as it seems, the next available match would not be for quite some time."

"Because the Grandmaster had to schedule a 'Not-Quite-Halftime' concert with the finest musical artists Sakaar can provide," Mozenrath grumbled. "And for those who don't know Sakaar, the punchline is that even the music is TRASH."

"We were discussing the possibility of rebuilding Altissia to our standards for later conquest," the Huntsman went on. "To recreate the jewel of Accordo, and then, having restored it, move ourselves into the governmental facility. We had thought to press survivors into service for this task…but you're the only one we've found, and far be it from me to demean you to grunt work."

"I must agree," Mozenrath added. "You're an asset. I'm looking for unnamed masses that are capable but also disposable."

"Of course you would find no survivors here," Loqi grunted, lip curled. "What fools you are!"

"I have been calling them fools from the start," Albel pointed out.

"The Altissians have taken refuge in Lestallum," said Loqi. "A true sign that Chancellor Izunia had erased the way of the world and its known borders, for Accordans to move to LUCIS."

"Altissians or no," Mozenrath realized, "a bustling metropolis of any kind would be a good hunting ground to pick up free labor. After all, you can't make Mamluks without breaking a few skulls."

"You wish to slaughter the population of Lestallum and resurrect them as undead so they may work in service of Altissia's reconstruction?" the Huntsman reiterated.

"…That's what I just said," Mozenrath grumbled.

"No, you gave us incomprehensible banter," Miratrix pointed out.

"Fool," Albel added.

"It isn't a bad thought," the Huntsman realized.

"My ideas never are," Mozenrath assured, completely incorrectly. "Now. If we wanted to get to this 'Lestallum,' which way would we have to set out?"

Loqi grinned. "I will gladly be your guide. After the humiliation I suffered at the Assassin's Festival, I will be more than happy to pay them in kind!"

...

Radiant Garden was one of many kingdoms spread across a vast continent. Whether there was anything else outside the continent, no one yet knew, as the turbulent history of the cities evolved from children's dreams kept each populace more or less sequestered. The most they'd ever been united was during the Zanarkand War, when the two most powerful kingdoms on the continent had forced everyone else to get involved in the conflict between them. Now that the war had passed, even in peacetime, the kingdoms often did not interact. First of all, when Maleficent had conquered Radiant Garden and made it into Hollow Bastion, she had worked hard to ensure every link the kingdom had to the outside was cut off. Second and more importantly, the landscape in between the kingdoms was as fearsome as the Atmosian wastelands but in utterly different ways. Large Heartless, ruthless Tonberries, and rumors of a ghostly horseman with no head ran thick in these forests and plains. Summoners made a pilgrimage across the continent with the intent of facing their fears and conquering all earthly dangers, but other than them and their guardians, only fools would randomly wander between the kingdoms.

Of course, there are a lot of fools in this world. And where there are fools, there is business. In-between the scattered kingdoms, there were small safehouses operating in a chain. They were beautiful little inns, well-guarded by protective magic similar to what guarded the Radiant Garden castle at present. Here, one could stay the night or longer for the right price.

Vexen's party sighted the building as the sun began to set. Due to the size of his group, with Deymos, Xerxes, Tsumugi, Simon, skekSil, Vincent, Victor, Albert, Agnus, and Arius – not to mention their proficiency in combat – they didn't have to worry about the monsters of the wild. Still and all, they were starting to get tired of the seemingly endless walking and battling; the inn before them was a godsend.

"All RIGHT!" Deymos pumped his fist. "Finally, a place to pass out!"

"I bet I can beat you there," Simon said snidely.

"You're on," Deymos told him. "Ready – "

"GO!" Simon took off at a bolt.

"Hey, cheater!" Deymos was soon running after him, catching up and overtaking him.

"I think that's the first time I've ever seen him run out of anything but the utmost necessity," Vexen remarked with a grin.

"You have seen Apex Captain run many times," skekSil said slyly. "He is one you were monitoring, yes? After all…Academic has no reason to study what is not Academic's project."

"Whatever you're implying," Vexen grunted, "don't."

Deymos and Simon were practically neck-and-neck as they burst through the door into the small, cozy, pastel-hued lobby full of books and knickknacks. It wasn't a straight shot from the door to the check-in counter; someone had put a table in the center of the lobby and situated what looked to be a very valuable vase on that table. Deymos sidestepped it and recalculated his course; Simon ran right into the table, causing it to wobble violently. The vase tipped –

"NonononoNOOOOO you don't!" A man burst from behind the check-in desk, practically diving to catch the vase. "Ahhh, there we go." He replaced it on the table. "See, this is why I put that table there: as an obvious sign that there is NO RUNNING ALLOWED IN THE – "

Deymos hit the bell on the check-in counter. "First!"

"Cheater!" Simon yelled.

"Gentlemen – " the employee attempted.

"How was I cheating?" Deymos yelled back. "I saw a table that was there, and you didn't! You were the one who broke the countdown!"

"GENTLEMEN!" the employee yelped. "Please keep your voices DOWN. There are people in this inn who are trying to SLEEP! AND DO NOT ABUSE THE BELL! THAT IS FOR AGENCY EMPLOYEES ONLY!"

"Keep our voices down?" Simon scoffed. "Do you even hear yourself right now? You sound like a tornado is coming!"

The man had to bite his lip dramatically and force himself to calm down. Deymos could see how hard it was for him just from the way he was dressed, in a fancy suit free of any sort of wrinkle, not a bit of fabric out of place. There wasn't a hair to speak of atop his head.

By that time, the rest of the party had arrived. "This is so adorable!" Tsumugi chirped. "It's like a cat café!"

"Looks cheap," Arius snorted.

"Sir!" Vexen marched over to the employee. "We require a stay in your rooms for the evening."

"Yes, of course!" the man opened his arms in greeting. "Welcome to Rin's Travel Agency! My name is Marion Moseby, and I'll be your host this evening. These, erm, these energetic young men aren't with you, are they?"

"Unfortunately, they are," Vexen responded. "Do refrain from your disdain toward them, however. That is my role."

Deymos flashed Vexen a thumbs-up.

"Now, how can I help you acquire rooms so you can have your QUIET night in?" asked Mr. Moseby.

Vexen realized he hadn't thought about how they would be divided amongst rooms, and he certainly wasn't paying for solo suites for everybody. "Hmm…let me see…"

Deymos slid in beside him; "I got this. We'll need a specific sleeping arrangement going on."

He and Vexen chatted with Moseby, laying down their requirements. Meanwhile, Arius made a show of how much he didn't like Rin's cozy aesthetic by pacing around the room and knocking over knickknacks like a cat. Agnus and Tsumugi followed him, replacing the books and vases he set out of order.

Finally, Deymos and Vexen returned. "Got room assignments for everybody," Deymos said, "but there weren't that many open, so it's gonna be a liiiiittle cramped. Vex and I are sharing a room – "

"What a joyous occasion," Vexen grumbled.

"Then we got Tsum-Tsum, Simon Says, and Window-Sil having a good old-fashioned lab-creation slumber party," Deymos said, handing Simon the key.

"How fun!" Tsumugi chirped. "We can have a slumber party!"

"You sure about this?" Simon asked. "She's a girl! You don't just shove girls and boys in the same room!"

"I can turn into a boy if you like." Tsumugi said that before doing exactly that: becoming a version of herself that had a flatter chest, shorter hair.

"Is there difference?" skekSil asked. "What is problem with mixed company?"

"Y-you know!" Simon sputtered. "The – we could see each other naked by accident! It'd be way too awkward!"

"How does differ from seeing own gender in nude?" skekSil asked. "Though Chamberlain agrees, is disgusting to flaunt in public."

"Well, usually we have different…parts," Tsumugi said. "But you know that, right?"

"Hmmm…interesting," said skekSil. "Male and female of human species have drastically different bodies, apparently. All Skeksis have same body, same 'parts.'"

"Wait, really?" Simon gaped. "Do you just…decide what your own pronouns are then?"

"I mean, everyone has the right to decide their own pronouns," Tsumugi pointed out.

"Is same of urRu and UrSkeks," skekSil explained. "In youth, have no gender. Decide what we want to be as we mature. Decision is usually simple one. Chamberlain in no way is female."

"Thank you for that fascinating diversion into Skeksis biology and culture," Vexen said dryly. "Now may we continue to hand out room assignments?"

Tsumugi was whispering to Simon that he really didn't need to fret over seeing her naked, as she'd just shifted her body to have parts that would theoretically match his, and Simon's yell of "I DIDN'T NEED TO KNOW THAT!" wasn't going to stop Vexen from trying to get the conversation back on track.

"There are other room assignments we still have to give out!" he snapped. "Arius. Agnus. There is a room for the two of you."

"An agreeable arrangement," said Agnus as he took the room key.

"Hmph." Arius folded his arms. "The room will be far too cramped for my liking. This is poverty."

"And sorry to say by that time there was just one room left," Deymos stated rather mischievously. "Victor, Vincent, the good news is you get to share. The bad news – "

"ARE YOU ABOUT TO TELL ME WE'RE SHARING THE ROOM WITH HIM?" Vincent pointed back to where Albert had engrossed himself in a book on pre-fall-of-Zanarkand marine life. (Or at least that's how he was trying to make it look, since he didn't want anyone to see how flusterd this whole scenario was making him as he listened in.)

"Yeeeaaaahhh, about that," Deymos replied. "That's the bad news. Sorry. Couldn't get it any other way. But it's just for tonight, so if you guys can hold off on murdering each other for the next, like, ten hours, that'd be ideal."

"I'll make sure they don't kill each other," Victor teased. This earned him the room key.

"What about Xerxes?" Xerxes asked.

"You technically classified as a 'pet,' so we don't have to pay for you," Deymos told him. "But since you're fully able to make your own decisions, just pick whoever's room you want. You can sleep on any surface, so – "

"Could I request Xerxes stays with us?" Albert broke in suddenly. "It would be useful for me to have a Dream Eater I do not have to summon and banish."

"What sort of nightmares are you planning to unleash on us?" Vincent growled. "I can assure you, I have enough of my own."

"I don't see why I have to tell you my plans." Albert leered. "They'll just wash up on the tide on their own, and then you'll see."

"All right, everybody, break!" Deymos declared. "Deymos has to get some shut-eye NOW, so consider this meeting over. Make like a banana and you know the drill."

The four groups divided, heading to their respective rooms. Vexen and Deymos' was the furthest from the lobby, meaning the others all broke away and left the two of them alone in the hall. Which gave Vexen the perfect opportunity to ask, "Do you really think Vincent is going to be fooled by your lie? What do you even stand to gain, forcing the three of them to share?"

"Trust me," Deymos said. "I know what I'm doing. I'm a master manipulator."

"I'm well aware."

Vexen unlocked their room, which was just as much of a cozy rainbow as the lobby had been. Two beds were lined up neatly, perfectly symmetrical.

"Now, I want to lay down the ground rules," Vexen growled as Deymos made his way into the adjacent bathroom. "There will be no talking. There will be no disturbances. There will be no poking, prodding, or otherwise bothering me physically. Once I have entered that bed, you are to entertain yourself QUIETLY, or, better yet, go to sleep. I don't have the energy to put up with – "

Deymos gave the last spit of toothpaste. "You're a light sleeper. I get it." He trudged back into the room. "But me? I'm not. Make as much noise as you want. Anyway, g'night."

He then flopped down onto the bed, rolled around a few times to get himself wrapped in the bedclothes, and fell still. Asleep immediately. In his daywear.

"…I suppose that means I won't have to worry about being disturbed after all," Vexen muttered, rather pleased. He'd always thought Deymos would be a nightmare roommate (and the only reason he'd considered it about Demyx back in the organization was thought experiments out of sheer boredom). But he'd forgotten that when Deymos (or Demyx) had an opportunity to become a stationary object, he usually took it very seriously.

Vexen swapped into a more sleep-appropriate dressphere, spent a short stint in the bathroom, and then went right to his own bed, able to fall asleep undisturbed.

One room over, Tsumugi had initiated a game of Truth or Dare, and skekSil was abusing the "Truth" aspect while Simon was having far too much fun with "Dare." One room over from them, Agnus was kept awake and staring at the ceiling by Arius' constant complaints that his (perfectly soft) bed was too lumpy. A certain folktale about a princess sleeping on a stack of mattresses came to Agnus' mind immediately.

But then, one room over from that, Vincent, Victor, Albert, and Xerxes were having a crisis. Deymos had booked the others' rooms with enough beds to correspond to the guests staying in those rooms. When it came to the room for these four, however –

"This can't be happening," Vincent babbled. "Victor. Victor, tell me I am not looking at what I am looking at."

Victor was almost beside himself with laughter. "Only one bed for the three of us? How cliché."

"It's a big enough bed," Albert observed.

"THAT ISN'T THE PROBLEM," Vincent growled. "That's it. I'm going back to the front desk to lodge a complaint. I have the feeling our benefactor Deymos wasn't entirely honest with us about the rooming situation."

He threw open the door and ran out at top speed.

Victor and Albert were left in an awkward silence. Finally, Victor said "The weather outside is lovely, don't you think, Albert my d – Albert?"

"It was very blue during the day," Albert said with a nod. "Did you notice it was also blue over the other castle, the one for the dead?"
"As a matter of fact, I did notice."

"Tension," Xerxes sighed.

"Oh!" Albert gave a start. "Xerxes, quickly. While Vincent is out of the room – "

"Do not engage in mischief with him," Victor growled. "I won't stand for it in the slightest. He – "

"Has terrible nightmares, I remember," Albert said. "Which is why he can't know I'm doing this, or it would ruin my reputation with him to be certain, so don't let on." He turned back to Xerxes. "Would you be opposed to hovering over Vincent tonight as he sleeps? I want you to find and devour every last nightmare that floats around his mind. You'll be able to see and catch them when you're in your other form. If he wakes up and sees you, then tell him you're just restless."

Though Victor had already seen Albert do this once, he was still stunned. "That is kind of you," he said.

"We've all suffered," Albert replied. "I can remove my own nightmares, and they don't seem to trouble you, but…" His tack quickly changed: "If Vincent is tossing and turning all night, I'll never get any sleep."

"If he can't get it switched," Victor said, "I'll take center of the bed. It seems the best way to prevent murder."

"Do you want it switched?" Albert asked forlornly.

Victor could already tell that Albert wanted no such thing. Of course, since he was such a lonely person. He was probably glad to share a room with a friend, and probably also glad to share a room with a rival he could taunt. (How would he feel about the possibility of sharing with two lovers?)

"What I want is for Vincent to be in a comfortable situation," Victor replied. "I don't mind your company, of course."

"I understand," Albert said, somewhat wistfully. "I of course can hardly stand to be in the same room as Vincent for very long, you understand, but regardless, it would be…a shame to miss out on the time with…with you."

"You know," Victor told him, "sometimes I think you really enjoy arguing and competing with Vincent. Would you be disappointed if he did make the switch?"

Albert hesitated for far too long before saying "Well, of course not."

Meanwhile, out front in the lobby, Moseby was having a discussion with one of the maids in employ at that branch of the Agency. "Now, Muriel," he said, "I'll need you to clean rooms 64, 72, and 73 before the sun rises."

"Ehhhhh…" Muriel, an elderly redheaded woman, thought it over. "Nah, I'm too tired for that tonight. I'll get to it tomorrow."

"Maybe you've forgotten how employment works," Moseby sighed. "It wasn't a REQUEST – "

In shot Vincent, sprinting toward the desk.

"Mr. Edgeworth!" Moseby snapped. "No running in the – "

Vincent slammed his hand on the desk bell repeatedly until Moseby seized his wrist; "I heard you the first EIGHTY TIMES, MR. EDGEWORTH!"

"There's been a mistake," Vincent said, flushing all shades of red. "I can't share a room with – WE can't share a room with – I need you to transfer Albert Krueger into another room. His own room. Or, if that isn't feasible, transfer Victor and myself."

"We do have a multitude of rooms available," said Moseby, "if not very CLEAN at the moment…"

"All right, all right, I get the message!" Muriel huffed and set off down the hall.

"I knew it," Vincent grumbled. "He arranged this on purpose. It was all some kind of joke to him!"

"You're all set to occupy room 64 if Muriel ever does her job," Moseby told him. "Though the extra room charge will be 700 munny."

Vincent winced. Vexen and Deymos held the purse on this mission. Vincent had no currency in his pockets.

"The 700, Mr. Edgeworth," Moseby repeated.

"…I don't have it," Vincent grumbled.

"Well, then, I'm afraid room 64 gets to stay unoccupied tonight," Moseby told him. "Now if you'll – I SAID NO RUNNING!"

Vincent sprinted toward Vexen and Deymos' room, hammering on the door with his fist. "OPEN UP RIGHT NOW – "

So Vexen did, seething through gritted teeth, "I will say this ONCE. Interrupt my sleep again and you will be shut down PERMANENTLY."

"Not if I don't flood his systems first," Deymos muttered. "Lemme sleep."

Then the door was promptly slammed in Vincent's face, and he knew better than to push it. He trudged back to the shared room in defeat, finding Victor and Albert sitting on the edge of the bed together and having a nice chat.

It was actually an adorable sight. But Vincent just couldn't deal with letting himself enjoy such a thing.

"Ah, Vincent!" Victor greeted. "Any luck?"

"No," Vincent growled. "This is our room for the night no matter how we feel about it. And sending Albert to sleep on a lobby chair would only incur the wrath of the manager. Though perhaps that's reason enough to do it – "

"He would relent after I gave him a taste of my nightmares," Albert said with a leer. "Maybe I should take you up on it."

"Well, on the chance that we all share the room, I'd take center of the bed," Victor said.

"Good," Vincent told him. "I'd rather sleep on the floor than next to him."

"And I'd rather sleep on the manager's desk than next to you," Albert replied.

"What happened to all the camaraderie from the café, hm?" Victor posed. "Here I thought we were friends now."

"By day is one thing," Vincent growled. "But sleeping?"
"I can understand completely," Albert said with a nod. "After all, Vincent always has been intimidated by me in every regard."

"I HAVE NOT – "

"Well, you two will have to make a decision now," Victor said. "Sleep in this bed, or don't." He crawled into the center of the bed to stake his claim. "Whatever the two of you decide to do, I'll be sleeping right here."

He kicked off his shoes and didn't bother changing any other article of clothing as he snuggled down into the blanket. Then he rolled over, face lying sideways on the pillow, and either fell asleep immediately or pretended to so he could hear the drama continue.

Albert and Vincent stared each other down a while. "I'm already on this bed," Albert said, "and I don't intend to leave."

"Well, I'm not letting you have Victor all to yourself," Vincent replied.

Albert smirked. "Jealous?"
"Hardly. If anyone's jealous, it should be…" Vincent realized he himself was smirking. Enjoying it way too much. "I'm not talking anymore. I'm going to sleep. Don't invade my dreams. Don't even look at them."

"I know I wouldn't find much interesting there anyway."

Vincent walked around to tuck himself in on the other side of Victor, wrapping up in the blanket. The way Victor lay, he faced Vincent, and Vincent couldn't help but give a soft sigh when he saw just how peaceful Victor looked in his sleep (or pretend-sleep; Vincent still wasn't sure). He moved in close to Victor, putting their bodies in contact, and shut his eyes. Trying not to think about who was on the other side of the bed.

Albert gave a resigned sigh, then reached to the bedside lamp, the only source of illumination in the room. With a click, he shut it off –

"NO!"

Albert immediately turned the light back on. Victor was definitely awake now, prying himself up to look at where Vincent had stumbled right out of bed and fallen onto the floor.

"LIGHT…STAYS…ON," Vincent growled past pure fear.

Albert let the façade drop. His concern and understanding were clear.

"If you could please – " Victor began.

"Because of the basement," Albert said, almost a whisper. "I apologize. I wasn't thinking." He moved away from the lamp, leaving it shining.

Struggling to slow his heart rate, Vincent eventually said one simple "Thank you."

"Goodnight, Vincent," Albert said as he lay down on his side of the bed. "And you as well, Victor." He turned to face off the edge of the bed; he and Victor lay back-to-back, a decent amount of distance between them.

"Will you be all right?" Victor extended a hand off the bed toward Vincent.

Vincent took it gladly, squeezing at the metal. "Just…give me time awake. Don't worry about it."

He slid into bed, facing Victor again. This time Victor closed the gap, snuggling up to him. Vincent knew he was safe here, but all the same, his heart kept pounding and his breathing stayed shallow.

There was only one thought that could possibly distract him from the panic coursing through his body. That of the impending decision. What if he did ask, here and now? Because in that moment, when the lamp had gone off, Albert had done what mattered. And Vincent supposed Victor would want to be closer to Albert than back-to-back with a couple inches between on the mattress.

But if he gave in, relinquished his stubbornness, would he even be Vincent Edgeworth? He wouldn't want to betray himself so. Especially since it meant admitting that on some level, some part of him had been wrong in the past.

(He'd done that for Victor before, though. What if…)

Right now, it hardly mattered, because Vincent was now the last one awake, and the only reason he fixated on thoughts of romance and its complications was to have anything to think about that wasn't being trapped in the dark. He did come to one single conclusion, though, and it annoyed him just enough to be a good diversion.

He was very angry that Victor hadn't at least tried to push him to confess, because he was far more likely to do it if he had an excuse to, and despite himself, he was waiting for that excuse.

...

Enmu treated Aghoul, Mim, Sho, Coco, Letheo, Shape, Carrion, Valentine, Whisp, Ember, Skulker, Verosika, and Nevan to a last round of Tequila before they were dropped off. As in the song by The Champs. It felt bittersweet to leave as the train parked in Niffleheim, outside the Hall of Nastrond, and everyone yelled one last "TEQUILA!"

"Don't be a stranger, Ayam," Enmu said, his humanoid construct appearing inside the train so he could hug Aghoul goodbye.

"You can bet I won't," Aghoul told him.

"Especially now that I know you've got such a fun shindig going on behind the scenes!" Mim laughed. "You've got to take me to Ozzie's regularly from now on!"

"And remember!" Enmu laughed. "If any of the other WHAM ARMY ever need a ride…they're more than welcome to plunge into the depths of their own nightmares with ME!" The extra mouths on his skin were grinning widely.

Then everyone departed, and Enmu went rolling off into the horizon.

Then it was just a matter of tricking Heimdall into opening the Bifrost from the other side for a group of non-gods and then slipping around him when he did so. A challenge, but made slightly easier by the addition of a succubus, a ghost who could control emotions with her song, and a Sidhe with controlling wiles of her own.

"We'd better hurry!" Mim insisted, taking off at a run (in which every seventh step or so was a skip) down the main thoroughfare of the entire kingdom. "He's got to nearly be back to the palace by now, and if we let him get that far, we've lost our golden opportunity!"

The monsters went racing down the road after her. Most of the Asgardians paid them little more than a curious glance. However, before they could make it to the palace gates, they were stopped by a blockade of zombies in Asgardian war armor. Out front was a familiar showman in purple.

"Now, this is just embarrassing," Caleb Covington told the WHAM ARMY. "I hate it when people lose their admission stamps and have to come crawling back to me to get new ones. Such a pain! But in your case, this one time, I'LL BE MORE THAN GLAD TO RE-ISSUE."

"Ohhhh, no, you don't!" Aghoul barked. "Not this time! Ladies! Let's give him a performance he won't forget!"

Verosika, Ember, and Nevan swaggered to the frontlines of their side. "You don't even know how long I've been wanting to do this to your sorry ass," Verosika snarled.

"Verosika!" Caleb laughed. "This is the low you've been brought to? How hard did your career fail that you're collaborating with a teen pop sensation?"
"Don't even give me that bullshit," Verosika snapped. "You're the one who pressed the Phantoms into service. At least Ember is still relevant and not a 90's burnout."

"Oooh, harsh," Caleb told her. "But you have to understand it was about the power play. Something you wouldn't know about since you spend most of your time publicly humiliating Hellish royalty and relying on your clout to be a huge, blunt weapon."

"Well, you know who has a SMALL, blunt weapon?" Verosika barked.

"Real mature," Caleb replied. "But let's stop with the chit-chat. I think we need to get to the main event: the reprise."

He threw an arm into the air. "IT'S EVERYTHING YOU EVER WANT!"

The zombies fell into step, striking synchronized poses.

Caleb directed them to the WHAM ARMY, belting, "IT'S EVERYTHING YOU EVER N – "

Ember drowned him out with a sudden guitar riff. Aghoul jumped in, yelling in tune, "HEY FOLKS! Begging your pardon! 'Scuse me, sorry to barge in! Now let's skip the tears and start on the whole, y'know…being dead thing!"

Nevan twirled, singing out operatically, "You're doomed; enjoy the singing! The sword of Damocles is swinging!"

"And if I hear your cell phone ringing," Skulker added as he clenched a tight fist, "I'll kill you myself."

Aghoul threw his hands out to either side. "THE WHOLE BEING DEAD THING!"

Caleb rolled his eyes, executing a leaping twirl so that the zombies did the same. His troops danced toward Aghoul's group, weapons drawn.

Mim started blasting them with shots of sparkling magic; "Death can get a person stressed! You should've carpe-d way more diems. Now you're never gonna see 'em!"

Ember slammed a power chord; "I CAN SHOW YOU WHAT COMES NEXT!"

"So don't be freaked!" Aghoul pointed to Caleb. "Stay in your seats!" He ran his finger across the advancing line of zombies. "I do this whole spiel, like, eight times a week!"

"So just relax!" Valentine chimed in. "You'll be fine!" He utilized his romance powers to produce an expensive bottle of red liquor; "Drink your fifty-dollar wine!" He launched the bottle at the next-nearest zombie, where it shattered on the soldier's skull and sent hin falling.

"And take a breath!" Shape somehow managed to draw all four of his swords at once in his two hands, twirling them hypnotically. "WELCOME TO A SHOW ABOUT DEATH!"

Ember flicked a dial on her guitar. With the next chord she struck, a shockwave of magic surged outward, enveloping the zombie horde. The half nearest to the WHAM ARMY was affected, turning around to fight their brethren. Now it was war between members of the same troop, half directed by WHAM ARMY and half by Covington. The WHAM ARMY scarcely needed to do any of the fighting, but they sure weren't going to pass up the chance to dance.

"Youuuuuu're!" Coco skipped around gleefully. "You're gonna be fiiiiiine! On the other siiiiiide!"

"DIE!" Ember leapt in front of her, slamming on her guitar. "YOU'RE ALL GONNA DIE! YOU'RE ALL GONNA DIE!"

Coco slipped around her to start skipping again. "Iiiiiii'll! I'll be your guiiiiiide! To the other siiiiide!"

"Though in full disclosure," Ember pointed out, "it's a show about death." She winked.

"Everyone seems to get along here," Skulker observed.

"Like Artax, Mufasa, and Bambi's mom here!" Mim crowed, leaping high into the air.

"Don't need to use the women's commodore here," Verosika chimed in. "Just pee on the floor here!"

"The whole being dead thing!" Mim elbowed Verosika in the waist playfully.

Letheo leapt forward to assert, "You're just gonna love the folks here!"

"Yes, I know you're 'woke,'" Shape hissed, "but you can take a joke here!"

"And every show, I do, like, a ton of coke here," Verosika pointed out, deadpan. "The whole – " Having reminded herself of one of her vices, she quickly brought out a handful of white powder for a sniff. "The whole being dead thing!"

"NOBODY IS BULLETPROOF!" Ember crowed.

Whisp put on a mocking tone; "I work out! I eat clean!"

"Pythagoras," Sho groaned, "pass the Dramamine."

Carrion marched to the frontlines, a man on a mission to sing harshly, "Time to face the brutal truth. You all are on a hitlist – "

"Might not live 'till Christmas!" Valentine cackled.

"Choke to death on biscuits!" Shape screeched.

"Hey," Sho said with a shrug, "that's just statistics!"

"So take a little break here!" Mim urged. "Kinda like a wake here – "

Caleb had had enough. He surged around the zombie war, hurtling toward Mim, intending to mark her first. Carrion took advantage of his haste to slip in an unexpected blow – a little yellow Nightmare worm, wriggling into Caleb's suit, burrowing under his skin.

Suddenly, Caleb was transported into a realm he'd only ever seen in his worst nightmares, a bright red vista that looked like the illustration of Hell you'd find in an average children's Bible. Caleb could see no one except Carrion, who stared him down, directly in the eye.

"The scenery is fake here," Carrion assured, dropping more worms on the ground. "Behold: the dragon-snake here!"

The worms gelled into exactly what Carrion had advertised: a wyrm several times Caleb's size, somewhere between dragon and serpent. Caleb flinched, backing away.

The wyrm gave a roar and surged toward him. Caleb did the reasonable thing and ran. Of course, since the wyrm wasn't real, he was actually tearing across the Asgardian thoroughfare.

Nevan threw up her hands, and a host of bats detached from her shadowy skirt, fluttering up into the air to border her; "Welcome to a show about death!"

Caleb's vision cleared of the nightmare just in time for him to see Coco twirling like a little ballerina in front of him. "Youuuuu're," she sang, "you're gonna be fine!"

"THANK YOU!" Ember screamed, hitting another power chord. The magic wave sent Caleb flying.

"On the other siiiiide!" Coco waved to him.

"HOW YA DOIN?" Ember screamed. "NOT GOOD? A-YEAH-YEAH-YEAH-YEAH-YEAH!"

"Iiiiiii'll!" Coco was now just spinning in place with no apparent goal. "I'll be your guiiiide! To the other siiiiide! Srsly tho, this is a show about – "

Caleb had landed facedown in the street. He pried himself up to see Whisp's high heel planting down in front of him. "Death is taboo," Whisp sang, "but it's hardly something new! There's nothing the school nurse or principal can do! Except detention-ize you."

"IF YOU DIE WHILE LISTENING TO MY ALBUM," Ember yelled out, "IT'S STILL GONNA KEEP PLAYING!"

Nevan was now waving to the battling zombies; "There's no destiny or fate! Just a terrifying wait!"

Verosika flipped off Caleb as she barked "Filled with people that you hate!"

"And on a certain date," Carrion growled, "the universe kills you."

"That's the thing with life!" Skulker rose into the air. "No one makes it out aliiiiiive!" He twirled, his armor gleaming in the evening sun.

"Toss that body in the pit!" Letheo mimed doing just that.

"Gosh, it's awful!" Coco pretended to cry over the imaginary corpse. "Ain't it tragic?"
Sho waved a hand dismissively; "Blah, Composer, Joshua magic."

"When you're dead, who gives a shit?" Verosika was dancing and weaving her way through the zombies now, deftly ducking and dodging all the clashing weaponry. "No pilates! No more yoga! Namaste, you fuckin' posers!"

Nevan and Verosika had finished weaving their magic. The zombies no longer fought each other. Now the entire horde united against a single enemy: Caleb Covington.

"From the cradle to cremation," Valentine crooned, twirling Letheo around while Verosika and Nevan gestured the zombie army toward its former commander. "Death just needs a little conversation!" Letheo playfully pecked him on the lips.

Caleb now realized his own soldiers were charging him. Angrily, he realized his only choice left was to escape. He turned and ran, but without a drop of fear in his heart: only anger.

"I HAVE MASTERED THE ART!" Aghoul belted as Caleb fled.

"DIES IRAE!" Aghoul's team chimed in.

"OF TEARING CONVENTION APART!" Aghoul sang.

His companions gave him another "DIES IRAE!"

"SO HOW ABOUT WE ALL MAKE A START – " Aghoul yelled.

"DIES IRAE!" everyone else chimed in.

"ON THE WHOOOOOOLE BEEEEEE-ING DEAD THING!" Aghoul struck a pose, arms outward.

Then he was joined by Mim, Coco, Sho, Letheo, Carrion, Shape, Whisp, Valentine, Verosika, Nevan, Ember, and Skulker for the final line: "GODS, WE HOPE YOU'RE READY FOR A SHOW ABOUT DEATH!"

When the number ended, several of the living Asgardians who'd caught the spectacle started applauding out of habit before the actual sensible folk dragged them away from the scene.

"Well, that's that!" Aghoul remarked. "Wonderful job, ladies! And ensemble. Now, let's catch that Loki before the sun sets!"

...

Yang Xiao Long had decided to lay down in the grass outside the Guinevere temple. "Seriously," she said as she looked up to the sunny skies, "by the time they get back, we so could've made it to the top of that temple."

"Yeah," Harley sighed. "If they ain't back in five, wanna go do it and make 'em look stupid?"

"You know I do," Yang confirmed.

Then the entire Iron Vulture appeared on the front lawn.

"WHAT THE HELL?" Yang sat up.

"Um…okay?" Rose shrugged.

The door opened, and Roman, Snatcher, Foulfellow, Gideon, Pinstripe, Tawna, Karnage, Mad Dog, and Dump Truck came strolling out. "Aha, my plan was workable!" Karnage crowed. "My ship has shipped itself here, and we have accessibilities to all onboard cargo!"

"But what about the rest of the crew?" Mad Dog asked. "When are we gonna go get them?"

"Whenever I am feeling like it," Karnage said with a wave. "Do not be expecting me to remember anytime soon."

"Fellas!" Harley trotted up to the group, waving. "How'd you get the whole entire ship back? Hey…where's Gio?"

"Funny story," Roman said. "We were trying to figure out how to transport the airship, when we realized the teleporter always lets us bring our clothes. No idea how, but we theorized that if one of us was wearing the Iron Vulture as an accessory, say, welded to a charm bracelet, we could bring it back as part of an outfit."

"HEY GUYS?" Giovanni's voice yelled out from within the Vulture. "YOU WELDED THIS STUPID BRACELET SHUT AND I CAN'T GET OUT OF IT NOW!"
"TOO BAD FOR YOU!" Roman called back.

Harley rolled her eyes. "Romyyyyyy…"

"What?" Roman shrugged.

"Hang on!" Rose charged aboard the ship, daggers in hand. "I'll cut him out!"

"You better mean the bracelet and not my arm," Giovanni whined.

"Anyway," Roman announced, "great news! I am officially over the whole bird thing! AND the water thing!"

"…Already?" Harley asked.

"Yep!" Roman told her. "Had an epiphany, or a catharsis, one of those things. And now? Fearless."

"But that ain't even psychologically possible," Harley pointed out. "I mean, I'm sure you improved, but – "

Snatcher gave a cough in her direction that sounded like "Lethimhavethis."

"…Okay." Harley shrugged. "If ya say so."

Two others boarded the Iron Vulture, coming up on Rose and Giovanni, the latter chained to the interior wall of the airship by a single filigree charm bracelet. "Okay," said Rose, angling a dagger. "I'll have to hit this just right if you don't want your wrist slit by accident. That'd be a pretty bad way to go."

Giovanni's panicked eyes lay upon the other person in the cabin who he recognized. "Solar Flare, wanna step in here?"

"I got this," said Yang as she lightly shoved Rose away. "Okay, all I'll need to do is snap the metal in half. Never actually done anything this finicky before, but I'm sure I won't break your arm."

"OKAY WAIT NO THAT'S EVEN WORSE!" Giovanni shrieked, tugging at his chained wrist.

"Um…maybe I should try." The person who stepped forth wasn't anyone Giovanni recognized immediately. She was as tall as Giovanni himself, but with a quite youthful face. In fact, the way the freckles were arranged on her face and her eyes shone like green buttons reminded him of something, but he couldn't yet put his finger on it. She was clothed in elegant white robes trimmed in fiery red; her voluminous dark curls were tinted in the same red shade at their tips and pulled into a ponytail at the back of her head. A galaxy of shimmering stars rested among those curls. The mysterious girl was holding a rather large sword, red and gold and shimmering like a flame.

"Uhhh…do I know you?" Giovanni asked.

"Um…don't you recognize me?" the girl replied. "Oh, wait…that's right…"

"Oh, this is gonna be good." Rose grinned. "Tell him!"

"It's me, Boss," said the girl. "You know, Bear Trap?"

Giovanni's eyes widened. That was Molly's face on that tall body; he just hadn't recognized it because of her lengthened frame and her new mane of hair. "Bear Trap! That IS you! What happened? You look like you took a serious level up!"

"This is a Shepherd power," Molly said proudly. "It's called an Armatus. I'm actually both Molly and Lailah, but mostly Molly. If I let Lailah back out to be her own person, I go back to looking like Molly, but since we're fused together, we look like this!" She held up the sword proudly. "This is some kind of special chosen-one sword that we can only use if we're fused like this."

"My girl grew up so fast…" Giovanni's eyes watered. "Already a mutant freak of nature stitched to another person and carrying a giant real-ass goddamn sword. It's every villain's dream final form…"

"We can actually join and separate whenever we want," Molly went on. "It just…looks drastic, that's all. Anyway, I'm pretty sure I don't have to swing this sword so hard to break a little charm bracelet, so…maybe back away from the wall to give me as much space as you can?"

"Right!" Giovanni pulled his wrist as far as it would go from the wall, making the chain taut.

Molly lifted the sword high, and it caught on quite literal fire. Gently, she brought it down – SNAP – and Giovanni was freed from the Iron Vulture, though he still had a bracelet cuff locked around his wrist. That was a secondary problem, though.

"Do you have ANY idea how fast chopping vegetables for soup will go when you have that thing?" Giovanni asked.

Molly smiled. "Oh! Hang on. Someone else wants to show you something!"

There was a bright flash of light, and Molly's appearance changed. She was now only about as tall as Rose, wearing robes of white and yellow. Her hair had taken on golden highlights to replace the red, and her ponytail moved to the side of her head. Floating to either side of her was a metal gauntlet half her size, balled into a fist. "This is my Armatus with Edna!" Molly said proudly. "I like this one because the hands can be used for combat and practical purposes. See?" She extended one of her own arms upward, and the corresponding levitating gauntlet reached up to the ceiling, tapping it thrice.

"Welcome to Shepherd life!" Rose laughed. "Trust me, the wind one's the best. When you meet up with Dez – with Zaveid, you're gonna have a blast!"

"That's right!" Molly's eyes widened. "Now that you guys are back, we can start the trial!"

She, Rose, Yang, and Giovanni exited the Iron Vulture. Outside, Karnage was setting up a fleet of small two-person planes.

"We will most certainly not be WALKING up those numerical flights of stairs," he scoffed. "No, we are stylishly traveling! As I, the great Don Karnage, tend to be doing." He jumped into one of the planes at the helm. "Come, sit! I guarantee a ride that is only slightly dangerful."

"Don't mind if I do!" Foulfellow settled in behind him. Gideon then crammed himself into the same seat, effectively squeezing a third passenger into the two-person vehicle.

Mad Dog, Dump Truck, Roman, Pinstripe, and Tawna also took their seats driving planes. So did Yang, who'd studied a bit of airship mechanics back at Beacon. Harley, Snatcher, Rose, Velvet, Giovanni, and Molly settled themselves in as passengers, with Lailah and Edna content to ride along in Molly's heart. Laphicet could fly of his own accord, and Elsa opted to just build herself an ever-rising ice column that could take her up as quickly as the planes. With all that arranged, the planes and Laphicet took off, and Elsa began to grow a spindly tower of ice upon whose summit she stood.

"WOO-HOO-HOO-HOOOOOO!" Roman whooped as the planes soared ever higher up the immense megalithic temple. "NOW THIS IS WHAT I CALL RIDING IN STYLE!" His hair whipped in the wind; he lost his hat temporarily, and Snatcher had to catch it and hold onto it for the time being.

The top of the temple was a flat roof, bordered by columns and arches. To one side stuck out the infamous suicide plank. As the planes, Laphicet, and Elsa's ice came to a halt, everyone took a look around at the stunning vista afforded by the height of the temple. Mountains and plains rolled on into the distance, the sun shining overhead.

The group immediately spread out to ooh and aah over it. Roman and Snatcher were the only two to walk down to the edge of the suicide drop and get the exact view from there.

"So this is the last thing you'd see before you dropped to her family," Roman said with a nod. "I know it wasn't her idea, but it does have that WHAM ARMY flair. Give 'em one last look at the scenery before the most dramatic death possible."

"Quite so," Snatcher agreed. "We'll have to inquire as to how much of a hand she had in this design. Perhaps she'd wish to recreate it under her own terms."

"What, as an execution method?" Roman asked. "That's cruel and I love it. Send Little Red over the edge, force her to take the last step…" He sighed in satisfaction.

"You can be as poetic as you'd like about forcing yours to take that step," Snatcher replied. "I'd simply throw Trubshaw senior and junior off the edge with my own two hands."

"As you should. I mostly just wanna hear her try and reason with me before I tell her it's the plank or the gun." He checked behind him quickly; Yang was all the way on the other side, probably by design. "Keep forgetting her fucking sister's here. …You don't think – "

"I think you've already tried the drop method on her," Snatcher reminded him, "and she overcame it quite quickly. Moreover, the threats wouldn't be feasible when we're surrounded by Heathens. I'm sure Miss Crowe wouldn't hesitate to send us over the edge instead, and Mr. Potage will somehow incorporate soup into the action."

"Worth a shot."

There was a sudden flash of light, and the appearance of a presence in the center of the roof. From where they were exploring, everyone looked to see who had arrived. Another seraph, dressed much like Pawan save for that his mask was carved like the face of a golden rhinoceros.

"Hi!" Molly clambered out of the plane. "Are you…Shepherd Wardell?"

The seraph nodded. "You are the new Shepherd."

"Yeah," Molly clarified. "I haven't done much Shepherd stuff yet. Just kinda got over the sick phase. But I think I have a missing friend up here?"

Wardell nodded. "He patrols the skies around Guinevere. He will not be easy to rein in. Would that I could have purified him. It is a relief that you are here." He cast his gaze around the rest of the group. "Though I doubt I can say the same for the company you keep. The stench of Darkness is strong."

"Actually, I think that's the secondhand smoke smell from Romy's cigs," Harley pointed out.

Wardell glowered. "I know not why you have come to assist a Shepherd," he said, "but know this: I have no tolerance for evil deeds here in Guinevere. Evil will be met with evil."

"Yeah, yeah, no fun up here," Roman sighed. "Got it."

This did not improve Wardell's mood. Before he could tell anyone off, however, there was a sudden sharp cry in the sky. Wardell's knees buckled. "He is here," the former Shepherd announced. "I leave this task to you. Pray bring him to heel but do not harm him." In a sparkle, he vanished.

From overhead, it descended through the clouds. A Hellion shaped like an enormous falcon, claws grasping.

Roman was not at all proud of the cold sweat that came over him once he beheld it. He was over this! He had to be! He'd just run through Demyx's version of this!

"OKAY, EVERYBODY!" Molly yelled, bracing the gauntlets afforded her by Edna. "ATTACK, BUT GENTLY!" She rushed to the falcon, reaching up, catching both talons in her giant gauntlets so as to both render the claws harmless and keep the Hellion closer to the roof.

"GO, GO, GO!" Rose barked, and the two teams flew into action, performing almost seamlessly as one. Elsa formed ice ramps so the others could reach; Velvet, Rose, Giovanni, Harley, Foulfellow, Gideon, Tawna, Don Karnage, Mad Dog, and Dump Truck hurtled up them to begin pummeling the Hellion into submission. From the sidelines, Yang and Pinstripe kept their guns trained on it.

"How are you going to purify it if you're holding it down?" Laphicet asked Molly.

"I haven't figured that part out yet!" Molly cried. "Just – just keep him here while I think up the rest of the plan! Wh-WHOA!"

The Hellion gave a frantic jerk, breaking free of Molly's clutches. It rose high into the air, singling out the two who hadn't joined the fray: Roman and Snatcher, still on the edge of the suicide ledge.

It was clear the bird was going to dive for them. Roman steeled himself as best he could, raising the Cudgel. Pointing its barrel directly at the beak of the beast, then the neck, then the forehead, and as much as he could tell himself that he was just trying to pick the right spot for the shot, the truth was his hand was shaking violently.

The bird took a sweeping dive. Roman punched the trigger, shots going wild.

He was seized from behind, grasped around the waist and held up straight. Another hand squeezed over the back of his own, steadying the Cudgel and lining up the shots; now they were actually colliding with the bird, which fell back slightly from the impact.

"…You're embarrassing me," Roman muttered once he realized Snatcher was the one keeping him in position and steadying his shot.

"As opposed to what you're doing?" Snatcher hissed. "If you've got to leave, then make an exit now!"

"No!" Roman hissed. "I'm FINE!"

"Ah, yes, because this is the very definition of FINE."

The slight tiff had caused them both to forget about the gun. Taking advantage of the opening, the bird resumed its dive, giving a wicked scream.

Roman abandoned all logic, acting on instinct alone, bringing the shaft of the Cudgel upward to be a weak protection over his own face.

A blur of gold slammed upward, pummeling into the bird from below its beak. The Hellion cawed, thrown up into the skies, tumbling head over feathers.

The one who'd punched it turned around to give a glare to Roman. "I hope you REMEMBER that one of Team RWBY just saved your sorry ass," Yang growled. Then she leapt back into the fray.

Yang was yellow. Roman saw red. "She…can't…DO THAT TO ME."

Meanwhile, Karnage had taken to the air in one of the small planes. "WE SHALL BRING THE BEAST TO FOOT WITH AN ASSAULT OF AERIALITY!" he declared.

"TO FOOT!" Pinstripe and Foulfellow both yelled. (Tawna facepalmed at this.) Pinstripe and Foulfellow each commandeered a plane of their own, and soon they were in the skies, circling the Hellion to keep it in place.

Karnage was an expert pilot. Pinstripe had driven enough go-karts to figure out how this worked. They made graceful arcs, cutting off the hellion at every escape route. But the true star of it all was Foulfellow, who executed an erratic flight pattern that slammed into the Hellion at unexpected angles. The bird could hardly get its bearings with him surrounding it like a one-fox blockade.

"Hey!" Pinstripe called out, pointing to him. "He's doin' even better than us!"

"He must be a pilot of completed training!" Karnage added.

"When this is all over," Foulfellow muttered to himself in blind terror, "I'm certainly going to act as though this whole time, I KNEW WHAT I WAS DOOIIIIIING!"

Because of course, when he hit the bird from the next angle, it was completely by accident in an attempt to fly straight.

"Okay, fly," Molly said. "Fly in the air, bird in the air, I need to get the Flames of Purification up there – " She gasped. "LAPHICET!"

Laphicet was immediately at her side. "You have a plan?"

"I do!" Molly insisted. "But I'll need your help! You have to fly me up to the Hellion so we can circle it! I'm gonna try to draw a ring of magic fire around it!" With that, she shifted back to Lailah's Armatus: the one that offered her the fire she would need.

Laphicet nodded. Without hesitation, he seized Molly from behind, arms locked around her waist, and lifted her up into the air – but once he'd gotten her there, he felt a rush of embarrassment, of shyness, because now he was actually holding her close, and he'd been thinking about such things but what if he was taking advantage of her plan for his own gain? And how awkward it was – usually he was the taller one, but combined with Lailah, Molly was so much larger than him, and it was a nice change of pace, knowing that if they both stood level on the ground, she could actually look down upon him with those green-button eyes –

Enough. There was a Hellion to contain. Laphicet began to circle it, and Molly used her sword to draw lines of Flames of Purification in the air, creating a fiery sigil to fence the Hellion in. Its attempts to escape were thwarted by Karnage, Pinstripe, and Foulfellow.

This meant that for the time being, Yang, Harley, Giovanni, and Velvet were able to fall back and rest. "I'm so proud of her," Giovanni sniffled.

"And I'm proud of him," Velvet said softly.

However, this meant they weren't paying attention to any other potential threats on the field. Roman Torchwick was livid that Yang Xiao Long had swooped in to rescue him like some sort of damsel, babying him in an hour of need he could've handled on his own or with his own. He no longer cared what Harley would think of him in that moment. He raised the Cudgel, pointing its crosshairs on Yang's back.

There was a sudden rush of wind and a whisper. "Evil will be met with evil," Wardell hissed in his ear. "I told you the rules. You chose to break them."

There was a flash of rainbow light as Wardell cast the spell of his punishment. Light that matched the colors of the Earthen Historia – memories coming to light. Yet nothing happened to Roman himself. He turned around to give Wardell a piece of his mind, only to see no angry seraph. "What was that even supposed to do to me?" Roman laughed. "Because let me tell you – "

Little did he know the spell hadn't been for him.

It was Snatcher who found himself on another world entirely. The Guinevere temple was gone from view, and instead, he was sitting at the table in the Tasting Room of the Portley-Rind manor.

He was ready to ask how he'd gotten there, what he was doing – but he couldn't control his own body. Which at the moment was not at all the visage he was used to. His entire shape was swollen, distended, breaking through his carefully-tailored yet worn clothing. Pain coursed through him, throbbing in every patch of inflammation, and one eye was held shut.

Sitting across from him: the Trubshaw baby. Portley-Rind. His daughter. A hideous Boxtroll.

All of a sudden, he knew what this was. His last moment, before Mozenrath had given him a second chance. And though it was recognizable on sight, this was not at all how he remembered living it. At the time, he'd been half out of his mind, and he was pretty sure it had actually gone much differently anyhow. It couldn't have been like this. (He would've noticed if Portley-Rind had been wearing his own red hat. That had to be an error.)

He held a fork. On that fork was the tiniest morsel of cheese. Against his will, he was opening his mouth to eat it, and the very act of doing that was laborious, struggling against what the anaphylaxis was doing to his entire body.

"Don't do it." The Trubshaw boy. This part, Snatcher vaguely actually remembered. "It won't change who you are."

And for some reason, Snatcher wanted to hear him out, lips shutting.

"Cheese, hats, boxes…they don't make you. You make you."

For a split second, maybe he'd wanted to believe that.

"I have made me, boy," he slurred, again speaking against his will, his own mind thinking of a million other things to say or do instead of being here. "This is my destiny." And with that, he extended a quivering tongue and ate the cheese morsel. It burned going down.

The other four crowded together in fear. Fear of what? Nothing was happening, so they relaxed ever so slightly.

Snatcher gave a smile. It had tasted disgusting, but that didn't matter. He finally had what he'd wanted all along (no, what he should never have wanted, none of this, none of any of this, why couldn't he just leave). He parroted the words Trout had given him as a script only the day prior: "Aromatic. Oaky. With an undertone of a mother's – "

One thing he knew, then and there. There would never be any agony even close to the sensation of being ripped apart from the inside out.

If what he'd felt before was pain, this was torture. Skin shredding into scraps, stomach finally giving out after the maximum strain, things that should've been inside erupting to the outside. A sickly yellow, not even the red such things should be. A sign he'd poisoned himself to his own bitter end.

(It couldn't have been like this, no, this had to be an exaggeration, this was not what he would've experienced had he been lucid - )

Even though it was technically a quick death, the pain reverberated, and he felt it even after he'd died. What was left of him echoed with it, beginning to fall backward into the dark. If there even was anything left of him after…that. From the looks of it, his remains didn't even end up in relatively large pieces.

Falling backward –

A foot slipping off the edge of the suicide ledge on Guinevere.

Roman realized that whatever Wardell had done, it had sent Snatcher into some sort of fearful trance, and now the latter was about to walk backward off the drop of death. Roman had a split second to make his decision. Snatcher, of course, could be resurrected later with a simple death bomb. Yang? Not so much. If he killed her, and he never let on to Harley what necromancy he had in his pocket, she'd be gone for good. Finally out of his life. The way it added up, there was really only one choice.

The Melodic Cudgel slammed into the ground as Roman dropped it, diving toward Snatcher.

Snatcher's left foot went over the edge, and then the rest of him with it. Roman surged quickly, reaching out, gloved hands grasping in desperation –

Catching the other man's wrist. Roman was pulled to slam stomach-down on the stone of the roof, holding onto Snatcher in utter desperation, his hands seizing that one arm as the only thread keeping him from falling. Snatcher dangled there limply, eyes glazed over in abject horror.

"Snap OUT of it!" Roman yelled, attempting to haul him back up to terra firma. Roman was relatively strong, but not when it came to dragging an entire person off a precipice by just one arm, especially when that person wasn't Neo-sized. "I'm gonna need you to help me here!"

"It couldn't have been – " Snatcher babbled. "It was an exaggeration – a lie – that can't be what happened, it can't – "

"WHATEVER YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT, NOW ISN'T EXACTLY THE TIME!" Roman yelled. "YOU KNOW WHERE YOU ARE, RIGHT?"

Snatcher did a double take. Flinched. Realized exactly where he was, indeed, and gave a start when he figured out that he wasn't falling into the void of death, but rather dangling over the possibility of it. The hand of the arm Roman held tight immediately clasped back at Roman's own arm, nails digging into the skin.

"You've killed her," Snatcher said suddenly. "Haven't you?"

"Still not the time!" Roman yelled back. "I'll get her later, okay? Now I need your other hand!"

As that went on, Laphicet continued to fly Molly around the winged Hellion. The trouble was that though Molly was adept at drawing lines of the Flames in the air, they were thin lines, and they would dissipate almost as quickly as she put them into being. Evaporating into thin air. By the time the latter half of the circle was drawn, the former half had already gone up in smoke.

"We have to make the circle faster!" Molly yelled. "Or stronger, or – or something!"

"If I could just – " Laphicet said softly. "If I could just reach Maotelus – "

Suddenly, it was the two of them who saw a new sight. They were no longer circling the Hellion at Guinevere. Now they were in a shining, ethereal light, like an aurora. No ground to be seen below, nor roof above. Before them, an immense white dragon rose to the heavens, dwarfing them both.

When it spoke, what came out was the voice of a young child. "Hi, Uncle Laphi."

"Maotelus?" Laphicet gasped.

"I guess it finally worked," said Maotelus. "I know you were trying for a while, but this is what bridged the connection to me. You needed to both be with each other and asking. Laphi, you and I are connected, and Molly, you're the Shepherd who wields the Flames, so I guess it makes sense that it needed to be both of you."

"Aren't you a god?" Molly recalled. "Why do you sound so…unsure about things?"
"Because there isn't any reason or science to this," Maotelus said, "and it's not something I designed. It's like…Laphi, remember that question Arthur used to ask you?"

"Why birds fly," Laphicet replied.

"Maybe this was the answer all along," said Maotelus. "Birds fly…because they do. It's just how things work. And it doesn't need an explanation or a reason. You two can reach me when you're together, and that's what matters. I'll give you my flames. This way, you can draw a stronger sigil and save Zaveid. Okay?"

Molly nodded. "We'll try."

"We'll succeed," Laphicet said with conviction.

And then he burst from the vision, Molly still held tight in his arms, trailing a tail of silver light like that of a comet. The two of them channeled the Flames of Purification, leaving a strong, thick path of the magic suspended in the air as they rocketed around the bird-Hellion.

"Hey!" Harley nudged Yang, giving a glance back to the suicide ledge. "You see – "

"Yeah," Yang sighed. "He better figure out he owes me TWO now."

Roman himself was losing his anchor on the ledge, starting to slip over. "Shit, shit, SHIT – "

"RAWR!" Harley tackled him, keeping him down on the floor while Yang blazed over to the edge. She dove down, seizing Snatcher's arm, and between her and Harley, they managed to get both Roman and Snatcher situated on the roof.

Roman gave a forlorn glance to the Cudgel. Then simply gave up. "You know this doesn't change anything," he grumbled. "I don't owe you a damn thing."

"Too bad you feel that way," Yang told him. "It really just publicly enforces that I'm a better person than you. Remember that. Oh, and whatever revenge attempt you're planning on me, I'm braced for it. Surprised you didn't try to pull one five minutes ago." She turned and jogged back to the site of the battle.

"Except you're not gonna try it," Harley insisted, "or I'm gonna let Rose go full assassin on ya." She softened. "Now don't fall off the roof again!" She skipped back to the battlefield as well.

"Now would be the time – " Snatcher attempted to hiss.

"No," Roman sighed. "Just…I'm done. I accept defeat. Whenever I kill her, it's not anywhere near now."

"Are you cer – "
"You know my rule. If you can't beat 'em…" Roman shook his head. "Anyway, you wanna tell me why you walked backward off the roof?"

"Not particularly," said Snatcher.

"All right." Roman shrugged. "I'll leave it alone. For now."

Molly and Laphicet had managed to draw a ring of silver flame around the Hellion, and it found itself unable to move outside that ring's confines. The two shot over and under it, drawing more lines across the circle – eight in total. Karnage and Pinstripe steered their planes upward and out of the way; Foulfellow just crashed into the roof and staggered away from the plane in a daze. The Hellion gave a cry of defeat.

"Now that's what I call…" Giovanni said. "Wait for it…wait for iiiiiiit…"

Once she and Laphicet were out of range, Molly clapped her hands. The flames erupted, encircling the Hellion in a silver sphere.

"A BEAR TRAP!" Giovanni cried with a victorious leap. Velvet lowered her face into her hands and shook her head.

Laphicet set Molly back down on the roof; the two rushed toward the glimmer in the sky. The massive orb of flame was shrinking down, becoming a cocoon that would more likely hold something person-sized, and it descended until its lower edge touched the roof. Then, in a brilliant flash, it dissipated, leaving someone new in its wake.

The man was very tall and very muscular. One could tell the latter from the fact that he wore no shirt, baring his tan chest and the bright-white lines tattooed across it. He did wear pants – rather tight black ones – on which he'd belted utility holsters, one of which seemed to contain a black whip. The man's long white hair cascaded in an unruly fashion down his back, coming to a soft green at the tips near his waist.

"Heh…sorry about that," he said in a deep, confident voice as he scratched at his head. "Wasn't myself just there. Thanks for slappin' the sense back into me. I needed that." He then sighted the Yang-Harley-Giovanni-Velvet lineup. "Ooh, and who are these lovely ladies? And the gentleman, of course. You can't be with all three of 'em, can ya? Trust me, girls, I'm – "

Without further hesitation, Yang decked him in the face and sent him sprawling on his back.

"Ooh, feisty," the man grunted.

"I have a girlfriend," Yang spat.

"Ohhh," the man realized. "My bad."

"We're ALL taken," Velvet growled, "and even if we weren't, we wouldn't have any interest in YOU."

"Um…excuse me?" Molly stepped forward, the Armatus dissipating. Lailah and Edna now stood behind her, as did Laphicet. "Are you Zaveid?"

"That is my name!" Zaveid hopped back up to his feet, turning to look at Molly. "Huh, you're a little short for a Shepherd."

"No kidding," said Edna. "She's supposed to be the same physical age as me, and the difference is staggering."

"Heyyy, Edna and Lailah!" Zaveid beamed. "Good to see you girls again!"

Velvet folded her arms. "Zaveid. I knew you were stupid, but not THAT dumb."

He turned back to her. "Wait. I know you from somewhere, don't I? Don't tell me…it's on the tip of my brain…"

"Velvet Crowe," Velvet spat.

"Nah, that can't be it," said Zaveid. "She died about a thousand years ago."

"And now she's back as a Nightmare," Velvet related.

"You're really Velvet?" Zaveid challenged. "Prove it. Tell me something only Velvet would know."

"Her name was Theodora," Velvet said flatly.

"…Oh, you are her," Zaveid realized. "Well, long time no see! How was being dead?"

"I wasn't really dead," Velvet groaned. "I'll explain later."

"Right now, you have to swear your oath to Molly," Lailah emphasized. "Then we can go rescue Mikleo, and he's the furthest away yet, so we need to hurry!"

"No problemo!" Zaveid knelt down to extend a hand to Molly. "What's your name, kid?"
"Molly," Molly said as she took his hand. "Molly Blyndeff. Um, I need to say your true name, right?"

"Fylk Zahdeya," Zaveid told her. "But I think 'Zaveid' sounds better."

"Fylk Zahdeya," Molly repeated.

"You know…" Zaveid's cool exterior seemed to break a little as power exchanged between the two of them. "You remind me of a kiddo I knew once. Back in Velvet's day, I used to…well, that ain't important for now. That was the old me. You're lookin' at the new and improved Zaveid!"

"Improved?" Velvet scoffed. "A thousand years ago, you weren't a womanizer. You chased her even when things were impossible."

"Yeah, and you guys are the ones who taught me the importance of killing, too!" Zaveid said with a grin. "If it hadn't been for you guys and Eizen, I woulda been a weak pacifist for at least a couple hundred more years, and that would never have gotten me anywhere!"

Velvet gaped. "Zaveid, what the hell HAPPENED to you?"

"Like I said!" Zaveid insisted. "Improvement!"

"He's only become more annoying with every passing century," Edna said with a smirk.

"That's what they all say," Zaveid replied, winking. "But deep down, they all know I'm hot stuff. Even you."

Edna scoffed. "I'm not coming around to you anytime soon."

"You – "

Velvet surged toward Zaveid, seizing his face in her Nightmare claw. "WHAT THE HELL?" she barked. "YOU LOST THEODORA, SO YOU TURNED YOUR SIGHTS TO A CHILD? YOU USED TO PROTECT CHILDREN, ZAVEID! YOU USED TO GIVE THEM SHELTER IN YOUR OWN HOME, HUMAN OR MALAK!"

"Calm down," Edna sighed. "It's just a joke we've been passing around for years. Mostly to tick off Eizen…or his memory, anyway."

"She's WAY too young for me, okay?" Zaveid asserted. "I wouldn't make a move! I save that for the Lailahs of the world. Can you let go before this handsome face gets scarred?"
Velvet practically threw him aside. "You let her death change you," she said, stunned. "You haven't been healing. You've been hiding. These jokes, all this flirting…it's been a thousand years, Zaveid. Couldn't you move on?"
Zaveid's countenance was finally solemn. "Look," he sighed, "you know how it is. Your baby brother died, and you spent years just wanting to kill one guy. We seraphs or malakhim or whatever you wanna call us, we take longer than humans to process things. Maybe one day, there'll be a lady who can make me forget about her. But until then, well, the only woman I'm tied to is one who doesn't exist anymore, so you gotta give me some slack, all right? And I wouldn't hurt a kid. It took everything I had to even…" He hesitated. "Put Silva to rest."

"You had to – " Velvet gasped. "No."

"If any death was a mercy," said Zaveid, "it was that one."

"Am I the only one who's lost?" Giovanni broke in. "Who's Theodora? Who's Silva?"
"Um…" Molly said awkwardly. "From what it sounds like, Theodora was Zaveid's girlfriend a thousand years ago, and Silva was…their kid? And they had foster kids too, but then something bad happened to Theodora and Silva, and…do I remind you of one of the fosters?"

Zaveid blinked. "Got a couple of details wrong, but…yeah, that's the short and simple version. And yeah. Her name was 'Milly.' Funny how that works, right? Milly and Molly. She was a good kid. I woulda taken a thousand stabs for her. So you can imagine I'm already feeling biased to do the same for you, little Shepherd."

"Please don't die for me," said Molly. "And, um, just in case, I'm not really comfortable with joking about – "

"Ugh, it's just a me-and-Zaveid thing!" Edna groaned. "You couldn't horn in on it anyway."

"Yeah, but let's can that one too," Zaveid suggested to Edna. "Present company and all. Kinda hollow anyway since the guy we're trying to piss off is dead."

"Actually – " Giovanni began to point out.

"Not yet," Velvet whispered to him. Edna had already refused to believe Eizen's rebirth was anything more than a horrible joke in itself. Zaveid wouldn't take it well either and Velvet knew it.

"We do need to hurry!" Lailah urged. "Mikleo has to be at the water shrine, and that's all the way in Hyland!"

"I second that hurrying!" Roman broke in. "Because I literally don't care about any of this and I'm getting bored."

Elsa pointed. "The only voice still singing is that way."

Lailah nodded. "Hyland! Like I thought! We'll need to get going now; it's a long way by wagon – "

"Wagon?" Karnage repeated. "WALK? Who is saying anything about the wagon? Have I brought the Iron Vulture all the way here for un-reasons? We will not be doing the WAGONING. It is time to travel like a PIRATE!"