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.

166. Star Attraction

A/N: The song you'll want to know is "Oogie's Boogie" from Pattycake Productions' "The Villains' Lair." The OTHER song you'll want to know is "A Whole New World" from Disney's Aladdin.

A special note to Makuta52: I had most of this chapter done before you even put up the latest chapter of ENS. You're going to figure out why that's a funny coincidence reeeeaaaal soon. Let's just say we were on a similar wavelength.

...

"Shit."

That was the next word out of Loki's mouth. Yes, he'd known Thanos was coming, and he'd known Thanos would be coming around this time, and yet somehow the actual timing of the event had snuck up on him.

He was sure it had nothing to do with getting lost in his monologue or awaiting accolades from the Asgardian audience. Thanos was crafty and that was that.

Then Loki composed himself, looking to Thanos. "I refuse," he said.

"I will give you one last opportunity," Thanos replied, "or I will tear your castle down and kill anyone who stands in my way."

"Everyone here knows your reputation," Loki rebuked. "You would do that regardless." He raised a brow. "Though I fail to see how these four pitiful creatures could stand against the might of the Asgardian military. Hardly the most glittering assemblage of villains I have ever seen."

"You dare?" This, from the slender one who'd been babbling. "You speak ill of the Black Order, Thanos' children not by blood, the elites who have ravaged world upon world! Dare you challenge the might of Cull Obsidian, slayer of warriors?"

The largest member of Thanos' coterie, a hulking giant of a man in jet-black armor, gave a grunt. Obviously a word, but not any Loki understood.

"Or the prowess of Corvus Glaive, infiltrator of empires?"

Another of the squad twirled a double-bladed spear. Loki couldn't help but notice how he altogether looked like some unholy fusion of a Dark Elf and a goblin.

"What about the wrath of Proxima Midnight, courtier of the end times?"

The woman who smiled might've passed for human if not for the sheep-like horns sprouting from her forehead. Her face was black from the eyes up and snow-white from the cheeks down.

"And I am the Maw." The monologuer spread his arms wide. "Ebony Maw, to be precise. The herald of desecration. The bringer of the joyous news of your salvation."

"Called 'Maw' for your mouth, I see," Loki huffed. "Is it never closed?"

The Maw cocked an eyebrow. "Perhaps you are not yet swayed? Then feast eye upon the Mad Titan's left hand."

"I see," Loki replied. He knew exactly what that golden gauntlet was, and exactly the nature of the shimmering gemstones set into it. "You're going against trend, you know. I had heard it was far more fashionable to give the RIGHT hand for power. Then again, such trendsetters are often regarded as imbeciles."

"He didn't!" Aghoul hissed from on high.

Thanos raised the gauntlet, extending it to Loki. He seemed rather relieved that the Maw had stopped talking. "Time, power, the soul, the mind, reality itself. These five powers have I harnessed to use as I see fit. It is only space that I lack. Once I have acquired it, then all will bear witness to my grand design."

"And what design is that, exactly?" Loki asked. "I would not think you much of a designer based on the looks of that hideous accessory."

The people began to mutter; had Odin always been this sassy?

"Why, you do not KNOW?" the Maw blurted. "It is of course my duty to inform you of our holiest of missions! Thanos, our steadfast leader, seeks to wield the powers of infinity so as to save the multiverse! All planets, all worlds, perhaps in time all realities!"

"And how does he expect to do any such thing?" Loki asked. "I expect this answer to be good."

The Maw grinned. "Far too long have the throngs of life sucked the worlds dry of all of their resources. Entire races kill themselves before they have a chance to grow old. When Thanos obtains the sixth stone, he will have the power to eradicate half of all life in existence. In this reality, to be clear, but it need not stop there if all goes well. Once he has done so, then the blessed chosen survivors of chance shall be free to feast upon the surplus left behind by their peers!"

"Save the worlds?" Loki glared Thanos down. "It's a farce, and anyone with an inch of cleverness can see it. Merely your excuse to sate Lady Death to your heart's content, and if your proselytizer's words are pretty enough, the history books might even say you were right. All because you wanted to slaughter."

Thanos leered, confirming Loki's suspicions. "And what would you know of farces, Odin?"

Did he know? He probably knew. He did have the Mind stone, after all. "I am King of Asgard by right," Loki sneered. "I know of kingliness and of ruling with grace. Even a peasant could see you know nothing of the sort, and yet you pretend to be a savior."

Meanwhile, Aghoul and Mim were awestruck by the revelation. Hardly ever was it that either of them could conceive of something so horrible that it could even shake them down to the bones, and yet –

"I knew he was obsessed with death and with killing people," Aghoul gasped, "but this is a new low, even for him!"

"And why do we care about how many people he kills?" Verosika sighed.

"Easy for one born of an afterlife to say," Carrion grumbled. "You will likely be spared his purge."

"Hey!" Verosika barked. "I've survived more purges than you can dream of. When you live under constant threat of random elimination, you learn not to fear it."

"But it would mean half our forces would be gone!" Mim hissed.

"Maybe not," Sho mused. "I mean, it's half all the population, so that doesn't mean the WHAM ARMY gets split down the middle. Could be less than half your guys and more than half of other people. Or it could be more than half your guys and less than half of other people. Could even be all of us. I'd need to have exact figures to crunch the numbers. Anyone got 'em?"

"Why, no," Skulker growled. "None of us happens to have an exact count on THE NUMBER OF LIVING BEINGS ON ALL WORLDS THAT CURRENTLY EXIST."

Sho snapped in disappointment. "Damn."

"But it's even worse than all that, you see!" Aghoul urged. "Mim and I are no strangers to killing indiscriminately, but what he's talking about is laying waste! If half the worlds are laid waste to, then what's left for us to take over, eh? If half the people are dead, then how are we supposed to subjugate anyone, eh? It isn't as though Mozenrath has enough power to bring back half a multiverse without burning himself to a crisp!"

"I'll bet you anything he's already wasted far too much bringing back the population of some city or another," Mim huffed.

"I have 20 yen," Coco offered.

"This is an affront to the WHAM ARMY as much as it is the innocents and the Overtakers of the worlds!" Aghoul hissed. "Something will have to be done! We can't let HIM spoil all our fun!"

"First, I think we should focus on making a run for it," Mim suggested. "After all, this is no mere Merlin we're dealing with. We can plan from the shadows once we get to the shadows!"

"A good call, my dear." Aghoul nodded. "Now, one by one, SLOWLY – "

But it was too late. By then, the Maw's wandering eye for detail had picked them out. He raised a hand and gave it a flick.

As sudden as marionettes jerked by strings, Aghoul, Mim, Sho, Coco, Carrion, Shape, Letheo, Valentine, Whisp, Ember, Skulker, Verosika, and Nevan were plucked from their vantage point and deposited roughly down in the plaza.

Loki flinched. "Ah, vermin! Feel free to do away with THEM, of course. For the good of Asgard."

"WHY YOU – " Mim shook a fist.

"NO TIME!" Aghoul seized the wrist of that fist to pull Mim along. "RUN FOR IT!"

He crashed facefirst into a solid crimson wall that was erecting itself around the plaza. Thanos lightly rubbed the Reality Stone as he grinned smugly. "No one will be going anywhere," the Mad Titan informed. He fixed an eye on Loki; "Least of all you."

Loki put a hand behind his back, attempting a spell. Thanos had nullified all magic in the field.

While Cull menaced those innocent Asgardians who'd gotten caught in the crossfire, Corvus and Proxima surrounded the WHAM ARMY contingent. "What are these pests?" Proxima said with a grin. She extended a mechanical staff to poke at Carrion. "Beings who think they preside above the Black Order?"

"They will be so fun to take apart," Corvus replied, leering. "With which one shall we begin?"

Ember readied her guitar. "We're not going down without a fight!"

"Hm!" Proxima chuckled. "Try us. Or, better yet – "

She waved in the other of Thanos' minions who had managed to infiltrate the Asgardians. The extraterrestrials known as Chitauri, heavily armored and armed, looking for blood.

"Try ALL of us," Proxima laughed.

"Erm." Aghoul swallowed hard. "I think we just may be in trouble."

"Unless one of you can pull an epic diversion or deus ex machina out of your hats!" Valentine whimpered.

That, apparently, was the cue. A cloud of smoke, virulent green, erupted in the center of the plaza, radiating outward and obscuring the vision of all. Corvus and Proxima doubled over, hacking and coughing. Thanos himself gave a growl as he was temporarily blinded, seeing only green.

"Well, now, what kind of magic is THIS?" Mim groaned.

Aghoul breathed in deep, tasting the air, smacking his lips. "Why, it's not magic at all! It's semi-toxic chemicals, the sort they use in special effects these days. In fact, it tastes exactly like that stench that lingers around – "

A voice boomed throughout the plaza, though surely it could be heard through the whole city: "DRAMATICUS INTROITUS!"

The fog cleared. And when it did, everyone could see the new player who'd arrived, standing in the center of it all. More than twice Thanos' size, the shape was all too familiar: the lime-green suit, the billowing purple cape, the way the starlight reflected off the helmet.

"THE GREAT MYSTERIO HAS ARRIVED!" the giant Mysterio boomed. "AND NOT A MOMENT TOO SOON, I SEE!"

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF - ?" Mim flinched.

"But how?" Aghoul sputtered. "HOW?"

They wouldn't get an answer to that for a while, but it would be rather unkind for the reader, at least, not to know the circumstances that had led up to this turn of events.

...

"Quentin…you've had some stupid ideas in the past. But this has gotta take first place for the all-time STUPIDEST," Montana sighed, lowering his face into both hands.

"No," Quentin retorted, "STUPID is the WHAM ARMY thinking they can carry out these important missions without me!"

"When they find out you bugged their conference room, they're gonna KILL you, Quentin. They're gonna kill you, bring you back, and kill you again."

"It's a necessity to make sure they don't do things like this," Quentin argued. "i.e. go on massive adventures without ME. What am I supposed to do while they're gone? Keep trying to beat Emet-Selch at canasta? He cheats!"

"Quentin, don't DO this," Montana pleaded. "You're in over your head. I know you, and you're gonna play it this way exactly: hangin' out back of all the action until the most dramatic possible entrance."

"Dramatic entrance…" Quentin mused. "Dramaticus introitus. I'm getting a vision for a script…"

"Quentin, I got plenty of better things to do than wait around here havin' heart attacks!"

"Aww, you'd be that worried about me?" Quentin rocked on his heels playfully. "Someone has a crush." He nudged Montana's shoulder.

"Not funny."

"They'd bring me right back, you know."

"Would they, though? After knowing you pulled a stunt like THIS?"

"Would it make a difference to you if I chose to go on the least risky mission of the four?" Quentin negotiated. "I'll tag along on Roman's mission to that place that sounds like a suburb. If they can dispatch Roman Torchwick there, I'm certainly more than a match for it."

Montana sighed. "I can see you're not gonna let this go no matter what I do. Fine. If you really wanna go try and steal spotlight from the founders, then go do it. But ONLY if you secretly tag along with Roman. And play it safe."

Quentin raised his right hand. "Promise."

"Bein' your partner's a real headache. You know that?"

"You could always just come along, you know," Quentin said with a wink.

Montana shook his head. "They got me double-booked over at the Twilight Town shop and keepin' the peace around here with the founders out. Also, I ain't STUPID. Unlike you, I know when I'd be IN OVER MY HEAD!"

"Oh, so the great Shocker is a coward."

"That's not what – I'm bein' PRACTICAL here! We wouldn't even technically be on the team! You like those odds? Us two against an unfamiliar landscape of magic threats? Huh?"

Quentin was already walking away, waving him off. "Suit yourself. I don't need you holding me back anyway. You'd only horn in on my limelight!"

Montana reached after him. Then lowered his hand. Then took a step toward him. Then stayed back. That was the thing: he knew Quentin didn't really want him along. Especially because Montana's first order of business would be to try and alert Roman to what they were really doing. His knowledge of this simple fact fought with his desire to keep his lover safe.

In the end, he didn't go. Because he knew that if he did, if he ruined Quentin's big moment, he'd never hear the end of it. And there wasn't a way he would be able to go without ruining it.

By the time he'd justified that decision in his mind, Quentin was several halls away, speaking to Discord.

"I saw that, you know," Discord said, leaning in to fix a suspicious eye on Quentin. "The left hand with fingers crossed behind your back. You're not going to Glenwood at all, are you?"

"Well, if Jackson were able to come without being an absolute party pooper, I would be," Quentin muttered. "But this is my show, and nothing ventured means nothing gained. Send me to Asgard."

"And what do I get out of the deal?"

"A shoo-in for Billy Flynn when we do Chicago."

"Sold."

...

"The Tragedy of Loki" was a well-written show, Mysterio had to admit. Obviously penned by Loki, of course. Mysterio knew narcissistic writing when he saw it, for reasons apparent. Still, it was entertaining, especially picking out what parts were probably overstatements or outright lies.

At least he got to see the whole thing. Mim and Aghoul managed to make so much noise that they were promptly escorted out of the auditorium and didn't return. In fact, after the show, Mysterio couldn't find them anywhere. Most likely they'd gone after another recruit.

He tapped at his scroll, dialing a call. When the other end picked up, he said as dramatically as he could muster, "Discord? I need another ride."

...

"All we wanna do is hear that sound!" Coco swiped two chairs from the nearby upscale restaurant.

"All we wanna do is hear that sound!" Sho threw a public wastebasket into the center of the cobblestones.

"All we wanna do is hear that sound!" Coco jumped with her full weight onto a branch-off of a lamppost, sending the metal arm and its lamp down onto the pile.

"All we wanna do is hear that sound!" Sho grabbed the neon "S" from the sign of the "ITEMS" shop to throw it on.

Mysterio took shelter from within that Items Shop. With all the flashy things they were grabbing, he couldn't guarantee that he wasn't next up to be piled in the Dadaist piece Sho was orchestrating.

At least the song was good.

He managed to tail the singing duo through the back streets, darting from shadow to shadow. Mim and Aghoul were of course too busy playing postwoman and pizza-delivery man to notice an uninvited party. It did, however, take all Mysterio's self-control to keep from laughing.

...

How he'd gotten on top of the Meow Wow balloon above the Coliseum was irrelevant. The point was he had the best seats in the house to watch the battle of a lifetime below.

"THAT DOES IT!" Mim shrieked after enduring a singe. "You want to play the evasion game? FINE! TWO CAN PLAY AT THAT ONE! I'm getting out of here, same way YOU would! No rules means I don't have to fight all the way to the death, you know!"

All at once, she imploded. Where there had been a massive dragon, there was now a little purple horseshoe bat, winging its way frantically to safety.

"Fool," Arawn snickered, lunging toward her without losing his draconian shape. His jaws opened wide as he closed in quickly on the tiny Mim.

And then his teeth snapped shut around her, sealing her in darkness. He swallowed.

"I know this gambit," Mysterio muttered. "She explodes him from the inside in three…two…"

Mim had decided, all at once, to become a rhinoceros.

This destroyed Arawn from the inside out; his body erupted and tore into fragments that bathed the Coliseum in gore. And with him gone, the Cauldron-Born shuddered to a halt, dropping where they stood until they were mere piles of bone and dust.

"Points for the spectacle," Mysterio grunted. "Not for creativity."

...

Sho rose high into the air, arms spread outward. "YES!" he roared. "I FEEL INFINITE!" It had been a while since he'd been able to absorb that much energy, and even longer since what he'd had to absorb wasn't just Noise or Heartless. He spun in the air, transforming with a wild yell as he hit the ground with a three-point landing. Now he no longer resembled a humanoid, but a bipedal lion Noise three times his original size, black from the waist up and gray from the waist down.

This form was known as Leo Cantus.

Mysterio had to watch this one from a hidden vantage point this time, crouching in the empty audience bay. Once again, everyone was far too distracted by the ensuing brawl to pay him any attention. So far, this was proving to be even more of a spectacle than Arawn; who knew Aghoul was a poet?

Sho was still going, though. He'd taken so many shades in that he realized he could deal out still more power. "It's been a hot zeptosecond since I've been able to do THIS!" he roared in an unnaturally deep voice. "INVERSE MATRIX!"

Leo Cantus punched the stage, shattering the floor. He and the Chimaera both fell down into a dimension that Sho had summoned, space that was not there before, fragments of debris and stone floating among cosmic patterns.

Mim, Coco, and Aghoul all crowded around the jagged hole to the otherworld. "I didn't realize he could create pocket dimensions," Aghoul noted.

Mysterio hissed under his breath, "You mean the best part is going to happen where I can't even see it? Figures."

...

Aghoul kept a sharp eye on the false Odin. All he needed to do was get close enough. Or one of his companions could do so and break the glamour for him.

Systematically, he chose opponents closer and closer to Loki, besting his foes in spars. The temptation to slice off their heads with his scythe or plant a bomb at a dirty trick of a time was immense, but he was trying to get Loki thrown out of Asgard before he was, so he refrained.

That was why Mysterio was taking care to stay on the outskirts of the battlefield, to be sure Aghoul wouldn't encounter him en route. So far, no one seemed to have even batted an eyelash that Mysterio had shown up to an Asgardian military training in Roman gladiator garb.

He put up the best duel he could manage, meaning that he was disarmed within minutes and pouted his way over to the sidelines to nurse his ego. While there, he got to watch how the others were doing.

He watched as Wallow burst out of the river, snapped up Mim in a heartbeat, and dragged her down into the waters silently.

He watched as Gressil pulled Sho down into the earth itself, the soil moistening enough for the Reaper to slop right through.

He watched as Abigor caught Coco from behind, threw her high, then used powerful gusts of wind to ensure she kept on rising.

Mysterio rolled his eyes. "Seriously?"

A chill hissed onto the back of Aghoul's neck, and he froze. Because he was chilly all the time without even trying. If anything managed to make him actually feel cold, that something was a powerful deathly or demonic force indeed.

"Isn't it funny?" Blackheart whispered into Aghoul's ear from behind. "A field full of people should make it easier to expose someone's trickery. The audience is bigger. But there's so much going on here that it's hard to lose track of what's important. Like you did."

Finally, Mysterio thought as he watched Aghoul scramble to find the others. Because if he didn't figure it out, then Mysterio would have to tip his hand early and step in. At least Aghoul was semi-competent. Still and all, Mysterio made a hasty escape, because Aghoul had just come a little too close to him for comfort.

...

It wasn't really that easy to hide on the beaches of Efreet. If not for the fact that Carrion was far too busy wallowing in self-pity (which Mysterio considered himself an absolute stranger to the concept of) to actually look at his surroundings, he might've noticed that a pile of rubble gathered from Koy was getting closer to him every few minutes.

"Of all the indignity," Mysterio grumbled. "I'm not going to let them forget that they made me drag myself through all this sand!"

Carrion had to pick up the pace to keep up with Mim and Aghoul gallivanting down to the shore. By the time they all got there, a body was arising from the deep. While it was humanoid in general structure, the limbs were much longer, looking unnaturally stretched to give extra height. The skin was the same pallor as Carrion's, with a soft green sheen. Most striking, however, was the man's back. Protruding from it were four bony extensions shaped like crosses.

Carrion recognized him immediately, and reeled. "What have you DONE?"

The resurrected man also took a step back, almost plunging into the water. "No! Please! You've punished me enough!"

"There's no such thing as too much punishment!" Mim cackled.

"I believe you already know Mendelson Shape," Aghoul re-introduced. "A good last name, but not nearly as good as 'Carrion.'"

"Of course I know him!" Carrion seethed. "I had him KILLED FOR INCOMPETENCE!"

Aghoul elbowed Mim. "I told you this was going to be a good show."

"Please!" Shape begged. "You can't!"

It was a good thing nobody could hear the stray debris pile laughing on the beach.

...

The dark shape sprang from a rooftop, landing on all fours before Mim. He then scrambled up to a bipedal stance, looking considerably more human. His head and general shape were shrouded by a dark hooded cloak; glimpses through it offered a view of what seemed to be a black military uniform with gold studs, tattered by time. He wore no shoes, exposing scaly, green-gray talons for feet. His height was also a dead giveaway that he was sixteen, or somewhere close to it, since sure didn't know his own birthday.

A long, jagged dagger was drawn by a hand with claws as sharp and scales as thick as the feet. "Give me all that money," a youthful voice demanded from beneath the hood, "or I'll kill you. I'll do it. I'm not even kidding."

"Well, no one said you were," Mim scoffed.

Watching Mim and Aghoul double-team Letheo, hiding in one of the run-down shops in Yebba Dim Day, Mysterio was absolutely furious. Why couldn't they have done this ten minutes ago when that boy had robbed him blind? Sure, he still had his costume and most of his favorite special effects, but the $100 cash he'd been planning to use to buy lunch was now no longer his! And they didn't even use that kind of currency on this island!

...

"DON'T LEAVE US! PLEASE!"

"WE'LL DO ANYTHING!"

"WE'LL JOIN FORCES WITH YOU! JUST MAKE IT STOP!"

"Oh, I don't know…" Aghoul tapped his chin. "What do you all think? Should we employ known backstabbers who've turned on a dime and already sworn loyalty to our enemies? And more importantly: should we end the fun early?"

"I say we just laugh at their screams instead," Mim suggested.

"Then we're on the same page!" Aghoul crowed.

The group left laughing as the Hidden were forced to clawing at their own essences, trying to rip the horrific visions out.

Then, once everyone else was out of view, Mysterio emerged from his hiding spot, charged at the Hidden, and delivered Abigor a sharp kick to the head.

"WHO DID THAT?" the wind angel bellowed, still blinded by nightmares.

"Mysterio, one." Mysterio walked away. "Fallen angels, zero."

...

"Why, you're a pretty young thing," Aghoul chuckled. "Shame you had to be taken from us so young. Though, then again, your soul might've been taken, but the rest of you's been gift-wrapped so nicely!"

He lifted the coffin lid. She was so cold, so still, so…perfect. Was there any harm in giving her dead body a little affection? Probably, but that was the exact appeal.

Aghoul bent over her like a prince come to wake her, pressing his frigid lips to her warm ones –

Why was she warm?

Her arms snapped up to wrap around his neck, pulling him in closer. For the briefest moment, he felt a jolt of panic, but it was instantly gone. She was the most wonderful woman he'd ever kissed, better than Mim, better than Hecate or Velma, and he would dismember himself for her, put himself through any torment –

Amora, who'd disguised herself as the alluring corpse to draw him in, pulled him closer, putting him deeper under her spell as her enchanted kiss washed through him.

She led him away by the hand, cooing to him about how she was going to treat him better than "that old witch" ever could. Then, once she was gone, the lid slid off another coffin.

"I am VERY glad that wasn't me," Mysterio grumbled. "In either her case OR his." He pondered a moment. "I'm sure Mim will figure this one out. Magic's her deal."

...

Whisp plopped a tray down on the Creepateria line. "Tell me it's something actually good today and not more slop," she groaned.

"You have two options," Mysterio told her, adjusting his hair net. "Take it or leave it."

"Hmm…I think take." Whisp winked.

Mysterio dealt her a scoop of mystery meat. (How thematically appropriate!) Whisp then turned to the student one behind her and said, "Val, I need a little magic."

"Sure thing." Valentine snapped his fingers. The slop on Whisp's tray turned to chocolates, and from the looks of it, the kind with caramel inside.

"No fair!" Mysterio hissed. "That's – that's not allowed, you know!"

"Show me where in the school handbook it says that and maybe I'll take you seriously," Whisp sighed.

Valentine scrutinized Mysterio. "Haven't seen you around here before…"

"I'm new," Mysterio said flatly.

"What kind of monster are you?" Valentine asked.

"A phantom of the theatre," Mysterio replied. "Now take your hazardous waste and leave." He plopped another scoop on Valentine's tray.

He watched the two of them pick out their usual isolated table. Whisp pulled forth her thick blue-and-pink braid to fiddle with a strand. Currently, it was very deep blue and very shocking pink, and her skin was a peach color. Not her favorite look. She was dressed in a crop top, a pair of baggy pants, and pointy-toed shoes, all in various shades of pink and blue. "Just so we're clear," she said as she twirled the strand of hair, "you're not going to mess up tonight."

Valentine leaned back and laughed, open-mouthed so the girl could see his fangs. He was clothed in quite different attire: a suit of dark magenta and red, embellished with embroidered roses and a frilly cravat. "Me, mess up?" he said in a deep, sultry Southern accent. "Darlin', I'm not the one whose wishes have kept backfirin' at every turn."

As he waited for Mim and company to show up, Mysterio dipped a finger in the very slop he was serving so he could taste it. That turned out to be a mistake.

He missed a good part of that conversation due to his mighty need to flush out his mouth at the drinking fountain.

...

It was more than obvious that the Homecoming punch had been spiked, so Mysterio wanted nothing to do with it. Besides, he was rather focused on keeping out of sight, which was so hard to do when he'd bought a glittering green-and-purple tuxedo just for the occasion and he wanted very badly to show it off.

It was fun, for a little while, pretending to be a chaperone so he could yell at students for no reason, e.g. "No Soulja Boy dance allowed! Now start waltzing properly before I write you up!" But then Cyclonis hijacked the entire room and the party was over.

While Mim rounded up her own inside the building, Mysterio was barging down the Catacombs halls, shrieking into his scroll, "Discord Discord DISCORD – "

...

Mysterio pressed his back to the wall, listening to what was going on inside the Asgardian academy mess hall.

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

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

"Anything," Amora replied.

"Even your heart?" Valentine asked.

"You already have my heart," Amora replied.

Mysterio chuckled to himself. "Oh, this is going to be so delicious – "

Then, against his own will, he screamed out "WHOAAA-AAAH-OH-OH-AH!"

Clapping his hands over his mouth, he glanced about worriedly. As it turned out, he hadn't been the only one singing. How had he not noticed when an entire troop of zombies showed up?

"WHOA-AAAH-OH-OH-AH!" they sang again in response to a leader's call, and Mysterio was once again compelled to join them.

He then got a breath in, enough to gasp "No, no NO – "

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

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

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

The fact that no one noticed Mysterio in the very back row of them was an absolute miracle. Then again, the others were rather busy getting marked by doom at the moment.

...

Pollution reached over Sho's lap to trace their fingertip around the paper, leaving it greasy and rancid.

"Yes, just like that!" Tsumugi said. "It would be even better if we had some actual blood, but that's a little too much to ask for, I think."

Paige was suddenly in the seat in front of them, looming ominously as she watched. "Now that's what I call CREATIVITY!" she said, beaming. The air around her seemed to sparkle. "But it still needs a little something. I think I know just what thing!"

Another splotch of ink blotted out the entire page. Except this time there were bits of red matter floating in it. Tsumugi and Sho both glared. Pollution stared wide-eyed.

"Oops," Paige said with a titter. "A little too much, as such. Let's start over!"

Enmu watched with a smile before discreetly ducking away, one car back. Of course, since he was also that car, he didn't technically need to do this, but he knew the extra passenger would appreciate talking to something humanoid.

"How are you holding up?" Enmu asked, sweetly but cheekily.

"Bored," Mysterio sighed. "Should've brought a sudoku book or something at least. Who knew the road to Hell was this long? I thought it was just paved with good intentions."

"Ah, a common misconception," Enmu replied. "It actually isn't related to good intentions at all. If you're in Hell, you usually know what you did." He gave a chuckle. "I certainly did my fair share to earn my place!"

"You know, you impress me," Mysterio told him. "Dreams are the one market I haven't been able to tap on the illusion front. That's more Dr. Destiny's forte, and he's a hack who relies on cheap scare tactics. Now, you? YOU'RE brimming with creativity."

Enmu bowed. "I thank you. You are impressive yourself, for a human. After all, you managed to make your way here, haven't you? Perhaps I should remember your name. We may be suited to alliance later on down the line."

"Hmm…good idea." Mysterio nodded. "We'll need a catchy name, though. I'm thinking something that uses the word 'Federation.' I have time." He changed gears: "Now, rounding up a legion of actual demons was a plot twist I certainly didn't expect. If all Aghoul's strange and unusual friends pitch in, I think we'd have a complete mutiny of Asgard on our hands!"

Enmu shook his head. "We all know better than to underestimate Loki. He managed to take the Antichrist from Hell and recruit him, you know. Blackheart is of a higher rank than even Asmodeus!"

"You're telling me Ayam Aghoul is NOT setting himself up to ride into battle with a legion of demons at his heels?" Mysterio gaped.

"Of course not," Enmu replied. "Asmodeus is afraid of Loki, and for good reason. Now, Verosika will probably take the bait because she's foolish, she has an ego, and she's probably under the influence at this very moment. And where she goes, Nevan follows. But everyone else knows it's a fool's game. We're going to keep our eyes on our own business."

"Well, that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," Mysterio told the demon. "I mean, you KNOW Ayam's going to come up from the underdog position with scythe swinging. Why not be on his team for this?"

"I suppose…maybe you could talk me into it," Enmu said. "But the others won't be easy to sell to."

"I'm the most charming salesman around," Mysterio said with a wink. "Try me."

...

Then, at long last, the WHAM ARMY contingent made to leave, Enmu trailing after to serve as their chauffeur back.

Once they were gone, Asmodeus let out a sigh. "It ain't GUILT," he insisted.

"Who do you need to convince?" Fizzarolli groaned. "'Cause it wasn't me until JUST now."

There was a sudden commotion outside. The bouncer yelled "Hey, you can't be in there – " and all of a sudden, there was a mortal, not even dead, storming into the lounge.

"So this is Hell," Mysterio remarked. "Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to meet my denouement here after all."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Asmodeus spat.

"That would be a spoiler," said Mysterio. "My question is: who do you think YOU are?"

"Asmodeus, embodiment of Lust and prince of Hell," Asmodeus said flatly, utterly unamused. "That clear things up, or do the bouncers gotta drive home the point?"

"How DARE you – oh, hang on." Mysterio quickly scrambled up onto a nearby tabletop, standing tall upon it. "How DARE you abandon your dear friend Ayam in his hour of need! Do the inhabitants of the Lust ring really want to know they've put their trust in a man who'd send his bosom companions on a suicide mission while he kicked back in the lap of luxury and sipped mimosas?"

Ozzie was dumbstruck for a moment before saying, "This is Hell! No one here expects ANYONE to do the right thing EVER!"

"THAT MAY BE SO!" Mysterio proclaimed. "But let me spell it out for you a little more clearly, and you tell me if I'm making a little more sense."

"Who is this clown?" Fizzarolli piped up. "And believe me, I don't use the term 'clown' lightly."

"My guess is Ayam put him up to it," Ozzie grumbled.

"What have we here?" Mysterio pointed across the club. "Ah, the infamous Four Horsepeople of the Apocalypse! Or three of them anyway! War, Famine, and Pollution themselves! We don't even need Death because those are three fates WORSE than death! You bring the end times to entire worlds!"

"And we got beaten up by a kid," War sneered, "so shut up before you embarrass yourself."

"But he makes a little sense," Pollution muttered. "We are very powerful, almost gods…"

"And YOU!" Mysterio pointed to Nehema. "You transcend all realities! You can see EXACTLY the reality where you send Loki and Blackheart whimpering off to Mommy Maleficent, and you're just choosing to sit back and ignore it!"

"That reality is not this reality," Nehema grumbled. "…Or is it? Perhaps I have lost track."

"YOU!" Mysterio pointed to Helen Highwater. "You can't even BE hurt! …I don't think. You present yourself as a figment of the imagination! Haven't you ever heard the phrase 'Work smarter, not harder'? Why tally up the statistics and back off because you couldn't take Loki in a PHYSICAL fight when in fact you could easily bring him to his knees MENTALLY?"

"Hmm…" Helen was obviously thinking it over.

"What about the two of YOU?" Mysterio indicated Paige and Tony. "I have…honestly no idea what's going on with you, but it scares me, and they say the devil you know is worse than the – no, wait, that's wrong – the devil you don't know is worse than the - they say nothing is scarier than the unknown is what they say. We KNOW what Loki can do. Does he know what YOU can do?"

"I don't suppose," Paige said to Tony.

"Quite on the nose," Tony replied to her.

"And YOU!" Mysterio pointed to Betelgeuse. "…What are you supposed to be, a hobo? I guess you're good to keep around for laughs. Anyway – "

"HEY NOW." Betelgeuse was literally steaming out the ears, and his pinstriped tuxedo seemed to be bubbling as though there were many new rogue appendages twisting beneath it. "You know who I am? You know who I fuckin' am? I'm the ghost with the most. Say it once, say it twice, say it three times for an experience you'll NEVER forget."

Mysterio met the eyes on Ozzie's frontmost head. "And then there's you and your jester. Actual, living, breathing Hell royalty. On the level of gods. And you're backing down because of one little god of MISCHIEF and his pack of playground bullies. Do I expect you do step up for the sake of your people, for the sake of Ayam Aghoul, any of that? No. I guess I don't. No one here has any morals. But if you all back down, CAN YOUR REPUTATIONS TAKE THE HIT, OR ARE YOU AFRAID TO LET THE WORLDS KNOW THAT YOU ALL WERE FRIGHTENED OFF BY THE SO-CALLED OVERTAKERS?"

A silence fell over the club. Then one of the patrons at a nearby table piped up, "He's got a point. I think you should do it. Do it do it do it."

"Shut up, Luci!" Ozzie pointed at the small black demon. "Somebody throw him out and make sure he stays out this time! …But I guess you have a point."

"You know, I don't think I want to stay on the sidelines anymore." Famine grinned wickedly. "We ARE feared and revered. Why have we let Loki back us into a corner? After all…War and Pollution and I, we've done great things."

"We could probably even take on Thanos himself," Pollution said with sparkling eyes.

"Don't push it too far," Famine warned them.

"No," War snapped. "They're right. We COULD take on Thanos himself."

"No idea who that is," said Mysterio, "but I'll assume he's powerful."

"Thanos?" Ozzie cringed. "He ain't even a god! He just likes to play the part of one."

"I see," Mysterio said. "And is Loki afraid of him?"

"He's the one who Loki fears," Tony said.

"It's true, of course," Paige added. "Hear hear! Hear hear!"

"So if I have this down…" Mysterio put out a hand, laying flat. "Loki." Then another above it. "Thanos." He shifted the first hand above that one. "You fellows. Oh, wait…"

Ozzie sighed. "Fine. I get it. We're cowards. How much did Aghoul pay you to deliver this speech?"

"He…doesn't know I'm here," Mysterio admitted. "But he is a dear friend of mine. And I'll be condemned to here before I stand back and watch him ride into a battle where he's outmatched! …Or at least before I manage to rope a demon army into it. You have to admit it would be a spectacle for the ages. Anyway, I got the train man to agree that if the rest of you got on board, he'd provide the shuttle."

"Don't you dare make me regret this," Ozzie snarled. "You realize what it'll do to my reputation if it gets out that I got pep-talked by a MORTAL."

"Hey, you're a pretty sly salesman," Fizz added. "I'm guessin' your sin list is pretty big. You want us to reserve a seat down here for ya when you kick the bucket?"

"I don't intend to be dead for long," Mysterio replied, "but yes, that would be quite nice, actually. Especially since this club seems…well, the antithesis of what I was always told would happen to you if you went to Hell."

Ozzie waved a hand. "Please. The best sinners get out of the torture racket pretty early on and start climbing the ladder to success. I'd like to see how high you get, so I'll put you down for a head start. No torture. Just good times here at Ozzie's. But be classy and bring a date, will you?"

Date. That just got Mysterio mad at Shocker all over again. But that could wait, especially since Shocker was obviously respecting his space by not horning in on this, and Mysterio could see how technically he'd won in that way. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Now, let's prepare for WAR!"

War raised her hand.

"NO, NOT YOU!"

...

Then, of course, when Enmu dropped Aghoul's team off, he doubled back around to the Lust ring to pick up the waiting squadron with Mysterio at their head. Within minutes, they'd welcomed him as one of their own, given the fact that his immediate first action was to request "You Can't Stop the Beat" on the party train.

That brings us to the present moment.

"You know, I was expecting to play to a little bit of a different audience," Mysterio admitted. "But they do call me a 'show-stopper,' and if there's any show that needs to be stopped, it's YOURS."

Loki had figured out immediately that this was all illusion, and not even the good kind. The immense form of Mysterio was a holographic projection, and the audio was coming from speakers that had been planted around the plaza long before Loki had ever gotten there. He had half a mind to tear it down – but right now, it was keeping Thanos from attacking him or his palace, so he let it happen. Mentally willing Doom to hurry up.

Thanos took two steps closer to Mysterio. "What are you?" he asked.

"I would hope you KNEW!" Mysterio scoffed. "Don't you have one of me on the nearest Earth to here?"

"If we do, he's keeping quiet," Thanos said.

"Then you don't have one," Mysterio said flippantly. "The great Mysterio does not KEEP QUIET! The great Mysterio's voice MUST BE HEARD ACROSS THE COSMOS!"

There was a snide chuckle from the Maw. "Are we truly to believe there is any threat posed to us by a failed actor?"

"Failed actor?" Mysterio drew back, a hand on his chest. "FAILED ACTOR? Why, you – just because I've been repeatedly turned down from parts for shallow reasons doesn't make me a FAILED ACTOR! In fact, it just proved that my true stage was never that of any auditorium, but instead RIGHT HERE AND RIGHT NOW! Thanos, you've just met your match!"

At first, Thanos didn't notice the musical intro that had started to play from the speakers. "You are no match for me," he growled.

"We'll see about that." Mysterio drew himself up tall to chime in for the first verse of the song he'd kicked in: "I've spent so many nights turned down from those audition floors!" He pressed the back of his hand to his helmet; "I was an empty bowl with no fish left to glitter anymore! I never thought I'd have the chance to get a second shot…" He pointed directly at his adversary. "But it's you and me, old Thanos boy, and I'mma give it all I got! I just can't wait for you to see the things I'm gonna do…but I guess that all depends on how much time is left for you!"

He clapped his hands. There was a plume of red smoke, and from it emerged a lithe silhouette, whirring mechanically. "'Twas the night before premiere!" Fizzarolli crowed.

Mysterio repeated the gesture, and a white shape appeared from the center of a black smog. "And just out of sight…" Pollution snickered.

When Mysterio's hand passed over the stone of the plaza, a black puddle appeared in its wake. Paige rose up from it, dripping with ink as she proclaimed, "A creature was stirring!"

In came Famine from a cloud of white smoke peppered with glitter; "To give you a fright!"

Tony appeared in a burst of shimmering numbers, 1 to 12. "His mugshot was hung by his Oscars with care."

Fizzarolli, Paige, Tony, Pollution, and Famine reconvened in front of Mysterio, forming a chain with their arms over each others' shoulders as they chorused, "IN HOPES THAT MYSTERIO SOON WOULD BE THERE!"

Paige whirled away as Mysterio began to sing, "Look who's gotten glitzy and who's back in town!"

In a burst of red light, Nehema and Helen appeared to either side of Paige, and all three sang out a passionate "WAH-OH-OH-OH!"

"Look who's back on top!" Mysterio twirled, gesturing to himself. "And guess who's GOIN' DOWN!" Both index fingers pointed to Thanos.

"WAAAH-AH!" Nehema, Paige, and Helen chorused, launching into a coordinated dance line.

Leaping onto the scene like a ballerina, Betelgeuse proclaimed, "NOWHERE TO RUN!"

He scooped up Helen, who let herself be spun round as she sang out, "NO PLACE TO HIDE!"

Betelgeuse dipped Helen low and the two harmonized: "So SAY GOODBYE!"

"'Cause Mysty's goin' glitzier this time around!" Mysterio proclaimed.

And as Nehema, Paige, and Helen cooed that "He's got his glitter back!", Mysterio started dancing in place.

Loki physically couldn't restrain himself from rolling his single visible eye. However, this was still working in his advantage, loath as he was to admit it. Because Thanos was absolutely dumbstruck, as most people tend to be when a full-blown musical number breaks out in front of them with little warning, and while Thanos was none the wiser to the fact that his Reality barrier was flickering, Loki sure saw it.

"About time, Victor," Loki hissed under his breath.

Enmu somersaulted to the front of the dance floor, then sprang to his feet, keeping his face-mouth shut as both his hands sang, "Who's the one gonna make you scream?"

Helen, Paige, and Nehema thrust fists in the air as they cheered, "MY-STE! RI-O!"

A veritable explosion, as though a bomb were set off, announced the arrival of War; "Whose costumes outshine Halloween?"

The chorus trio again sang it out: "MY-STE! RI-O!"

"'Cause this year, I'll be glowing green!" Mysterio lit up with a bright lime aura. "Comin' straight for Asgard town! Yes, 'cause I got my glitter back this time around!"

On cue, it started to rain glitter. Thanos still wasn't sure what to make of it and continued to be dumbstruck. Cull, Proxima, and Corvus had started to hack at the glitter with their weapons, which really didn't do much. The Maw stared at Mysterio with a carefully-curated "blank" expression betrayed by his single tapping foot.

At that time, patches of the barrier went out. Loki's head whipped to look through the nearest gate opened up; Doom, clutching the magitech remote he'd obviously used to jam the Reality Stone itself, waved Loki on urgently. Loki took the opportunity, slinking away quickly.

Other Asgardians began to notice the openings, and out they slipped. They were in no way subtle about it, but it was hard to notice anything when Mysterio was being Mysterio in the foreground.

Even Aghoul was awestruck. "The madman actually did it. I say that as though anyone ever expected him to do specifically this, and of course no one did – but we all should have!"

"Eh." Mim waved a hand. "He's kind of forcing that rhyme with 'Mysty' and 'glitzy.'"

Finally Thanos shook his head and advanced again. "Now, this has all gone far enough," he grumbled. "I've killed your kind before. So begone with you and leave me out of what you have in store."

Mysterio crowed a quick laugh, because Thanos hadn't even noticed he'd spoken to the beat and rhyme of the song. "Ooh, leave you out? Sure, muscle-man! I hear you loud and clear. This Infinity War needs a little spice, and so I volunteer! I'll deck the halls with casting calls, so just sit back and watch! 'Cause Mr. QUENTIN BECK is gonna kick it up a notch!"

Famine was then behind Corvus and Proxima, arms slung over their shoulders, conjuring primal hunger in the pits of their stomachs. "Black Order was frightened and scared in their beds!" Famine cackled.

Helen danced circles around Cull; "As visions of fishbowl-men danced in their heads!"

Pollution slapped a grimy hand on the Maw's shoulder; "Then what to my wondering eyes should appear?"

Famine, Helen, and Pollution pulled back and grouped up; "A shadow that woke them with terror and fear!"

"Look who's gotten glitzy and who's back in town!" Mysterio was now pulling off a Charleston step that even Helen was jealous of (though that didn't stop her from joining Nehema and Paige for another "WAH-OH-OH-OH!"). "Look who's back on top, and guess who's goin' down!"

"WAAAAAH-AH!"

Tony popped up on one side of the scene; "Nowhere to run!"

Paige popped up on the other; "No place to hide!"

Tony and Paige reached out for each other's hands, spinning each other as they squealed, "SO SAY GOODBYE!"

"'Cause Mysty's gotten glitzier this time around!" Mysterio bellowed. One didn't need to see his face beneath the helmet to know he'd punctuated it with a wink.

"HE'S GOT HIS GLITTER BACK!" Paige, Nehema, and Helen chorused.

Betelgeuse skidded out front of the chorus trio, gesturing with his arms like a conductor; "Who's the one gonna make you SCREAM?"

"MY-STE! RI-O!"

Fizzarolli dropped from the air, knocking Betelgeuse flat and standing on his back like a soapbox. "Who dresses best each Halloween?" the Lust demon urged.

"MY-STE! RI-O!"

"'Cause this year I'll be glowing green!" Mysterio leaned down over Thanos. "Comin' straight to knock you down! Yes, 'cause I got my glitter back this time around!"

"Um," Letheo whispered. "You think maybe we should…"

"Make a break for it?" Valentine finished flatly, jabbing a thumb at one of the gaps in the wall.

"Oh," Aghoul realized. "Good idea. Quietly now!"

He and the rest of the WHAM ARMY crept along to their escape route. The Black Order didn't see them – War had roped Proxima into a dance that served as an excuse for the former to elbow and knee the latter, Paige and Tony had taken one arm each of Corvus to march him round and round in circles, and Cull rejected Fizzarolli's invite to dance, so Fizzarolli just caught him by surprise and suplexed him. Then you had Enmu and Pollution grinding on the Maw – who, from the looks of things, didn't quite hate that.

"He's scared!" Enmu teased.

"He's sick!" Helen mocked.

"He's horrified!" Fizzarolli crowed.

"Come on, Thanos, look alive!" Mysterio urged. "'Cause this will be an Endgame you may or may not survive!"

War planted herself center stage; "He's finished!"

Famine was soon on her right; "He's COOKED."

Pollution scooted to War's left; "Bye-bye!"

The three Horsepeople chorused, "He's done! WHEEEEE!" before twirling off in three different directions.

"You had a solid run!" Mysterio insisted. "There's a new Mad Titan here in town, and I've only just begun!"

Thanos had half a mind to make a move, but then came the key change. Nehema, Paige, and Helen's voices ascended, and so did all those who Mysterio had brought from Hell, rising on platforms of light so they were all safely up off the ground. Thanos was then blown back by a great eruption of neon-blue smoke and rainbow lights; when they cleared, Asmodeus himself stood tall beside Mysterio, taking the giant illusion's hand to whirl him around.

"NOW LOOK WHO'S GOTTEN GLITZY AND WHO'S BACK IN TOWN!" Mysterio yelled.

This time, his backup chorus came from everyone else in the Hell contingent; their "WAH-OH-OH-OH!" punctuated how they'd all started dancing in place, perfectly synchronized.

"Look who's back on top – " Mysterio gave a look to Thanos, who'd landed on his back after Ozzie's entrance had thrown him. "And guess who's GOIN' DOWN!"

"WAAAAAH-AH!"

Ozzie took over; "Nowhere to run! No place to hide! So SAY GOODBYE!"

He let go of Mysterio, who spun round and round while singing, "'Cause Mysty's going glitzier this time around!"

"HE'S GOT HIS GLITTER BACK!" the Hell chorus belted. "WHOA-OH-OH-OH-OH, WAH-OH! MY-STE! RI-O! OHHHH-OH-OH-OH-OH! HE'S GONNA GLITZ IT UP!"

Ozzie flung out both arms, shaking his massive chest; "And I heard him exclaim as he crept through the night!"

"Encore, encore, encore!" Fizzarolli crawled onto Ozzie's shoulders to strike a pose of his own. "I am sure to delight!"

"Yes, 'cause I got my glitter back this time around!" Mysterio yelled, and everyone struck one last dramatic pose. The music stopped abruptly.

Loki had gotten away with Doom. More importantly, Aghoul had managed to lead his entire contingent to safety.

Thanos had finally had enough, and the sudden lack of music meant he could think clearly. He willed a hundred torpedoes in the air, then released them all at Mysterio's upper body.

They passed right through and exploded off one another. Mysterio looked sheepishly around. "I think we've run out of mileage on the hologram," he said.

"EVERYBODY BREAK FOR IT!" Fizzarolli yelled. "An anybody who can, BREAK THAT GAUNTLET!"

Mysterio's hologram dissipated, leaving only his true, human-sized form (though he had the presence of mind to quickly switch on his Night Mode). He turned to run.

Thanos marched after him; "You won't get away so – "

"I like trains!" Paige chirped.

Thanos glowered at her. "What – "

Then Enmu hit him head-on. The real Enmu. An entire train. Thanos was thrown several blocks. The last words the Black Order heard before he departed the immediate vicinity was "HUNT THEM DOWN!"

Corvus, Proxima, Cull, and Maw took the demand. They split up into the Asgardian night, chasing down the escaped WHAM ARMY, the Overtakers, anyone they could find.

Thanos righted himself, finding Ozzie staring him down. "And you think you can fare against me?" Thanos growled.

"Kinda already did, heheh," Fizzarolli laughed. "The whole train thing."

"Ladies, gentlemen, and nonbinary demonic entities," Ozzie announced, "time to give this fella HELL."

...

Vincent was displeased when he entered the room he'd been assigned at that night's Rin's, only to see Victor, Albert, Xerxes, and a triple-wide bed awaiting him.

"They're doing this on purpose now," Vincent grumbled.

Albert dragged a toe across the carpet. As far as he knew, this was deliberately to torture him for his unspoken feelings. "I would think that's a fair assessment, though I can't speak to why."

"And no one has the munny to pay for a reassignment," Vincent supposed.

"A correct assumption," Victor told him.

Vincent shook his head. "We'll just use the same arrangement we did before. After all…" He gave Albert a strange look, one in which his composure faltered ever so slightly. "This isn't the worst arrangement in the world."

All three of them remembered the Baaj sludge pit. No one really wanted to be the one to bring it up. But despite the words unspoken, the tension in the air seemed to lighten.

"Might as well turn in now," Victor said. "Big day ahead if that Helpsie's directions are right."

So they did, arranging as before, with Vincent and Victor sleeping chest-to-chest and Albert with his back to Victor's. Before shutting his eyes, Albert looked up to Xerxes. "You know what to do," he whispered.

"Right!" Xerxes tried to salute with a fin, only to find it wasn't quite long enough.

Xerxes kept guard for the first hour, circling the bed as the trio slept peacefully. Then the eel realized just how boring this was. Vincent hadn't even had any nightmares yet, so he had nothing to eat in the dream sense or in the regular sense. A fact he was reminded of when a certain smell came down the hallway: that of crab bisque.

Xerxes poked his head out of the room to see a Rin's employee wheeling a cart along. That cart was piled high with domed silver trays, each emitting its own tantalizing smell.

"Room service!" Xerxes realized. Without even a hesitation, he shot away from the room, chasing down the rolling banquet.

Leaving Vincent's dreams unguarded.

...

Scavengers from across Sakaar gathered around the downed body. Unconscious, a rather wispy blond man whose thick coating of armor didn't exactly tell anyone how much meat would be on his bones. Still and all, something was better than nothing, and it probably meant there was only a serving for one.

Then in came the airship no one wanted to see, the small striped craft that belonged to one of the more famous Sakaarians. It landed, and down from the ramp came the warrior woman: dressed in leather and patchy plate armor, hair pulled into a ponytail, white markings around her eyes.

"He's mine," said the woman known only as the Valkyrie. Then she fell off the landing ramp. It was well-known she had a love affair with the bottle, and it seemed they'd had such a tryst before she'd shown up.

In a moment, she was on her feet again, among the wastes both biological and technological. "He's mine," she repeated. "If you want him, you'll have to go through me."

"We've already got him!" one of the larger scavengers barked.

Valkyrie smirked. "Then I'll have to go through you."

She slammed her fists together. The tight black gauntlets that covered them shimmered with blue energy, activating the synchronized cannons on her ship. Twin guns pointed at the scavenger horde, and Valkyrie swept her outstretched arms across the field, scattering shot. Those who weren't killed on impact knew better than to stick around.

Once the crowd had dissipated, Valkyrie swaggered over to the fallen man. "Grandmaster will pay me a lot if you end up being decent cannon fodder for his tournament," she explained. "Trust me, it's a far more noble death than – "

Except he was gone. In the scuffle, the body of Loqi Tummelt had disappeared. While no one was watching.

Valkyrie had barely enough time to put two and two together before he assaulted her from behind, leaping up onto her back like a child begging for a ride from a parent. One arm twisted Valkyrie's neck into a headlock while the other reached for her flailing arms.

"What a fool for such an asinine diversion to even work on you," Loqi hissed as he plucked one of her gauntlets. "For that, I think I'll let you live, so you can reflect on your poor performance and how you weren't even worth the effort for me to kill you."

He ripped the other gauntlet away and then pushed off. Valkyrie fell to the ground. Loqi made a beeline for her ship.

"HEY!" Valkyrie scrambled to her feet, chasing after Loqi. "HEY, HEY, HEY!"

But it was too late. The ship had closed up and was lifting off. Judging by the way the guns pumped rhythmically, Loqi had figured out how to use the gauntlets.

Valkyrie looked to the city on the horizon. It was a long way on foot, but she had no other choice. Kicking at the surrounding trash, she gave an indignant "SHIT!".

Back in the city, the Grandmaster was in his private quarters, calling a very important council meeting between himself, Topaz, and Swackhammer. The matter was of such importance that he'd posted his best guards to ensure no one intruded.

"And now, the moment of truth," said the Grandmaster. "Once it's decided, there's no going back." He held up a length of fabric in one hand. "Should I wear THIS one…" And a robe of opposite colors in the other. "Or this one?"
"That one," his two cohorts said in unison – each pointing at a different robe.

The Grandmaster sighed. "Looks like we're at an impasse. The fate of Sakaar is lost, thanks to you two. Or is it? Because in a circumstance like this, that's when it falls to me to make the final judgment, and we all know my decisions are always the right ones." He tossed one robe over his shoulder to hold up the other one. "This."

"But that other one brings out my eyes," Topaz grumbled.

"Your eyes?" the Grandmaster repeated. "Then…and listen to me carefully, weigh your options here…maybe you should wear it."

Topaz' eyes widened. "Maybe I SHOULD wear it."

"You'll need it tailored, of course," said the Grandmaster, "but – "

Then came a booming voice from outside the tower walls: "GRANDMASTER EN DWI GAST! I AM BRIGADIER GENERAL LOQI TUMMELT OF THE NIFLHEIM ARMY, AND I HAVE COME TO PARTICIPATE IN YOUR DEATH TOURNAMENT!"

"It's always something," the Grandmaster sighed as he moved to the window to see what was going on.

In all his heavy decision-making over fashion, he had managed to completely miss Loqi going on a rampage with the airship and using Valkyrie's custom guns to punch holes in half the city. Now the ship was hovering outside the Grandmaster's tower expectantly.

"GRANT ME THE POSITION I DESERVE AND ADEQUATE WEAPONRY," Loqi bellowed, "OR THE DESTRUCTION WILL CONTINUE!"

There seemed at first to be no response. "WELL?" he yelled. "I'M WAITING!"

Then came the sound of a clearing throat behind the ship. Loqi turned to see the Grandmaster's holographic projection, the size of a giant, taking form to communicate with him.

"I won't lie," he said. "You sure impressed me with that little stunt – no, no, put it three degrees to the left, that's how you get my good side." The hologram rotated slightly. "Do I know that ship? I think I know that ship. You nicked that off Valkyrie, didn't you? I'd say that passes entry requirements for my tournament of fun and fantasy in which death is only a secondary factor to the wholesome family entertainment. The next requirement is that you stop calling it a 'death tournament' for the aforementioned reason."

"I will concede," Loqi growled. "Now give me my place in the bracket! I wish to prove victor!"

"Zilchnix," the Grandmaster said while looking off target from Loqi, "can you get Military Title Whatshisname of Place I Don't Know on the bracket for the current seed? …Actually, I do have an idea for him. …You know how we need that one robot guy put down before he destroys the arena and everything around it? If we use that as an excuse to deck this guy out with weapons and send him in as the exterminator, then there goes that problem."

"I can still HEAR YOU," Loqi barked.

"Just a little joke, a little wordplay," the Grandmaster said quickly.

"This does not change my desire to take part," Loqi said, "but if that is the case, then I demand the best weaponry in your arsenal. I will take nothing less than a Nifleheim-standard MA-X Cuirass."

There was a pause. Then the Grandmaster said, "Like the sword, right? …No, no, I'm not thinking of 'cutlass,' that's something else."

"YES YOU ARE," Loqi yelled, "AND STOP TALKING TO PEOPLE I CANNOT SEE! I want ARMOR! Magitek ARMOR! A suit that is more compact than this ship but strikes just as much fear into its victim, and add to it these gauntlet-controlled cannons!"

"You know, constructing one of those things would be a good way to get all the scrap metal out of my courtyard AND keep the prisoners with jobs distracted from all that 'rebellion' talk they've been having," the Grandmaster said. "You have a deal. But you will have to leave behind the airship. That's too big for the arena."

"I agree to these terms," Loqi said.

"By the way, where did you leave Valkyrie?" the Grandmaster asked.

"I could not tell you her exact coordinates," Loqi said, "nor do I particularly care. She was alive when I left her, but given the distance between her and this city, that may not be the case for long."

The Grandmaster thought it over. "I'm sure she'll be fine. She's a big girl. Just park it around back and she'll find it when she gets back to town."

That was how Loqi ended up piloting a horribly glitchy version of an MA-X Cuirass into the battlefield for the next round. It listed a bit to the right, and there was a short delay between any command he gave it and any action that wasn't gunfire, but at least it wasn't a Gigas.

The crowd applauded, and Loqi felt a rush of pride. He'd always known he deserved applause, but on the battlefield, applause isn't exactly what you get from your audience of enemies when you pull off a victory. That pride was dulled slightly when he looked up to the hologram that specified the match name:

MILITARY TITLE WHATSHISNAME OF PLACE I DON'T KNOW

VS.

?

At that, Loqi scoffed. "Peasants. Absolute peasants."

And then nothing happened for a while.

"WELL?" Loqi yelled in rage. "WHERE IS MY OPPONENT?"

The response was a loud BANG. Then another BANG. Finally, Loqi noticed the door across the field, the one that had actually been welded shut to keep whatever was behind it safely inside. The final BANG made the wall erupt in shrapnel, and the imprisoned opponent smashed his way through, careening into the air on a pair of rocket-jets that plumed from his feet. He made several loops around the field, seemingly just to show off, then pulled to a halt in front of Loqi and his armor.

It was a robot, as the Grandmaster had spoiled earlier, but he was designed to look relatively like a human dressed in thick blue armor with wide, sharp shoulder plates. A wild mane of green hair billowed from his synthetic scalp, making up maybe a third of his total size. His arms were quite obviously shaped like cannons.

"So YOU'RE what they sent to get rid of me," the robot said haughtily. "What an unworthy match. This won't even show off the half of my true strength, but if you are the first barrier to overcome so that I can break free of this arena and conquer this miserable planet, then so be it!"

Loqi risked a glance at the hologram:

MILITARY TITLE WHATSHISNAME OF PLACE I DON'T KNOW

VS.

TERRA

NO, NOT THAT ONE

NOT THAT ONE EITHER

THE OTHER ONE

"So your name is Terra," Loqi spat. "How plebeian."

"And your name wasn't even worth mentioning," Terra taunted. "What else could I expect from a human dressed as a robot? And in such a poor costume, too. What a mockery. You deserve to die in the name of the Stardroids for that offense alone."

"Stardroids?" Loqi snickered. "What sort of name is that for your battalion? Your Stardroids are NOTHING compared to the former might of the Niflheim army – "

BANG. Terra had loosed the first cannon shot. Loqi's pseudo-Cuirass stumbled from the shock.

"You talk far too much," Terra spat. "Now let's get to the fun part."

He'd taken off again, firing blasts at double the pace of a gatling gun.

No wonder the Grandmaster had wanted this one dead. Loqi went on the defensive and the offensive practically at the same time, hustling the pseudo-Cuirass away from Terra's blows as best he could while using one of the Sakaarian gloves to engage his own cannon. It wasn't long before the entire arena had filled with gunfire, turning it into a fireworks show more than a battle.

"Should've outfitted these guys with rainbow ammo," the Grandmaster said, shaking his head. "Oh, well. Could've, would've, should've."

"Not like they're gonna be the last guys with guns," Swackhammer pointed out.

The pseudo-Cuirass kept taking a beating, testing its durability. Loqi was sure the shoddy construction would burst any moment, which meant he had to act faster, shoot more, focus on results over finesse. Now, if only Terra would hold still for just a single solitary moment –

Then he did. Pulling up in front of the pseudo-Cuirass, arms folded, hovering in midair. He'd obviously taken some dents in his armor as well. Loqi blinked, trying to get the aftereffects of the blinding cannon fire to fade away.

"Hmph," Terra scoffed. "You didn't even notice. How typical of your kind."

"Notice what?" Loqi blinked harder. The lights weren't fading.

That was because it wasn't an aftereffect. Terra had laid mines in the air, lasers waiting to go off, sparkling like a constellation around the pseudo-Cuirass.

Smirking, Terra held up a hand, fingers poised.

Loqi raised his gauntlets, aiming both cannons at Terra.

Terra snapped his fingers.

As the barrage descended, Loqi had enough time to scream "YOU GOD DAMNED MENACE!"

Then he was thrown from the pseudo-Cuirass – no, the pseudo-Cuirass was already shrapnel, erupting every which way. Loqi sailed through the air, momentarily unaware of which way was up or down. The only thing he could say for certain was that one of the lasers had grazed his chest – tearing away the outer layer of his armor and drawing blood from what skin it had exposed.

(The pain in Loqi's chest wasn't half as disconcerting as the idea that they would all see him half disrobed, they would see and they would know – )

He slammed onto his back on the ground, the breath knocked from his lungs. Terra descended slowly, smugly, lowering himself to Loqi's side.

"It's over," Terra said. "And when I win this entire tournament, Sakaar will be Stardroid territory, and these organics will be purged."

Loqi wasn't ready to give up, even in the face of his own death. He would go out fighting no matter what. So he did the only recourse left to him: he reached down, dug up a clump of earth from the field itself, and threw it in Terra's face.

Terra reeled, screaming as though he'd been hit with rattlesnake venom instead of dirt. He clawed at his face, stumbling away from Loqi.

"…Ah," Loqi panted, finally crawling to his feet. "So it is. You hate DIRT. How ironic for a man named TERRA."

He ripped out a bigger chunk of dirt and hurled it. Terra screamed as though being burned.

One of Loqi's gauntlets jolted. The gun was still active. He raised his fist, aiming it to Terra, and opened fire.

Terra was too busy recoiling from the dirt to retaliate or defend. He took the hits dead-on for a while before realizing it was in his best interest to get out of range. He flitted away –

Loqi had found a heavy rock beneath the earth, and he hurled it with all his might. It cracked into Terra's head, leaving a wake of sparks that Loqi supposed was the Stardroid equivalent of drawn blood.

Terra fell back down into the range of the gun, and this time, he didn't get back up. To be sure, however, Loqi didn't let up fire for a full five minutes, and he kept throwing what rocks he could find into the fray.

Then, at last, he raised his arm, ceasing the gunfire. Terra's metal remains crackled with electricity, signaling that the Stardroid was downed.

The Grandmaster let out a sigh of relief. "Okay, that's one less upstart to worry about. Now about the prisoners with jobs – "

"I've already ordered them to make ten more Cuirasses," Topaz said.

"Good," the Grandmaster replied. "That oughta keep them busy."

"What are we gonna do with ten more Cuirasses?" Swackhammer groaned.

"I'm thinking they'll make good parade floats," the Grandmaster said. "After all, it's only six months until my annual birthday parade, which isn't very long at all, so we better start planning."

Loqi finally let the pain in his chest get the better of him. He doubled over, pressing an arm to the wound, feeling the trickle of blood warm his arm. Then he bolted back to his escorts, demanding "RETURN ME TO MY CELL AT ONCE!".

He hated showing weakness. But at least this time, he'd won.

...

Aboard the Iron Vulture, several grown-up villains and criminals along with a couple of token children were having circle time. Don Karnage had far too many stories to tell about his exploits in piracy (most of which were embellished or flat-out untrue, as evidenced when Mad Dog tried to bring up a character named "Baloo" and Karnage insisted no such person existed). The WHAM ARMY and Heathens present all wanted to hear these tales, so Roman took the wheel and everyone else circled up in the cockpit for Karnage to act out his exploits of derring-do.

"And then I realized the only escape was to be flying through the middlemost of the maelstrom!" Karnage proclaimed. "The lightning was lightninging and the thunder was thundering, and the wind, the wind was blowing so hard, it felt like – "

There was an enormous THUD. The sound of something colliding with the Iron Vulture. The airship tilted slightly.

"Great effects, boss!" Mad Dog yelled.

"Why, thank you!" Karnage said.

"Uh, how did you set that up?" Dump Truck asked.

"I, er…" Karnage scratched his ear. "It seems that I have such a mastery of storytelling – "

"I don't think that was your story, Mr. Karnage," Molly piped up. "I think we just hit something big."

"Nonsense!" Karnage protested. "Do you think I would be unknowing if we had hit something very big?"

THUD. This time everyone was thrown to the left. Roman struggled to keep a hold on the wheel.

"It seems we have hit something very big," Karnage said casually.

Yang was first on her feet. "I'll check it out."

"No, I'll go," Molly said. "I'm the Shepherd, and if it's a problem, I should be on the front line. But if it's nothing, we shouldn't all just get up and abandon the ship. Zaveid, Lailah, and Edna can come with me."

"I'll go too," Laphicet piped up.

"And you're not going anywhere without your boss!" Giovanni said.

"Okay," Harley said with trepidation, "but if there's a problem, you call downstairs, mmkay?"

"I will," Molly promised. "Oh, and either way, we should be steering the ship around whatever we hit, so Roman, can you zig-zag a little bit?"

"Already on it!" Roman said.

Molly, Laphicet, Lailah, Zaveid, Edna, and Giovanni departed. Thus began the speculation with Yang saying "But if we didn't hit an enemy, what did we HIT?"

"Maybe a cloud," Dump Truck said.

"I mean, clouds are made of water vapor and have the consistency of mist," Tawna said, "but sure, let's go with hitting a cloud."

"Don't be silly," Rose said. "It's obviously some kind of big bird – " Then she remembered the events atop the Guinevere shrine. "…en on society. You know those airborne burdens on society!"

"You know I can hear other people say the word 'bird' and nothing happens," Roman sighed.

"Yeah," Yang piped up. "Wouldn't want to walk on eggshells around him."

"Okay, THAT was over the line, but not for the same reason Rose thought hers was," Roman grumbled.

"I know." Yang grinned cheekily. She was really starting to have fun tormenting the one teammate she didn't like.

Up on the roof of the Iron Vulture, Molly, Laphicet, Zaveid, Lailah, Edna, and Giovanni surveyed the blue skies surrounding. "I don't see anything," Giovanni muttered.

"Right," Laphicet said. "There's nothing. Nothing we could've hit. Meaning whatever it was moved."

"This is just a big wild goose chase," Edna sighed.

THUD. This time, the blow came from below. As the ship rocked, the form of an enormous dragon pulled up from below the vanguard's line of sight. Zel'xed spun into the air, taking a vantage point.

"But that's no goose!" Lailah said in shock. "At least not like any goose I've ever seen! Though I guess pengyons have scales – but we all know that's not what's going on here!"

The Iron Vulture pivoted. The dragon hovered in midair, completely still, as if waiting for something.

"Ummm…range, range, I need range…" Molly looked to Zaveid. "Please tell me your armatus weapon is ranged!"

Zaveid's eyes were locked on the hovering dragon. "Why?" he said under his breath. "Why does it have to happen to so many of us?"
"Ohhhhh – " Molly knew she had to try it anyway. "Fylk Zahdeya!"

With that, she merged with Zaveid, growing taller than ever before as her hair cascaded into a green-tipped mane. Wings made up of green broadswords protruded from her back, and she took flight with them.

At that same time, the dragon dove for the Iron Vulture. It grazed the airship with another CRASH. Molly pointed at Zel'xed, and a host of green swords made of magical energy hurtled toward the dragon, nipping at its scaly skin. Zel'xed batted the blades away as he took a new position in the air, hovering and waiting.

"That's weird," Edna noted. "Why does he keep pausing like that in between attacks?"

"It's almost like he's…reading the wind," Lailah breathed. "Edna, look! His eyes!"

The dragon's eyes were utterly unfocused. Though it was hard to tell in the first place; they were glazed over, milky, with very little definition between pupil and iris and the rest. Its nostrils flared, and when the wind blew, it snapped its head to the latest position of the Iron Vulture.

"He is reading the wind!" Lailah realized. "Just like – "

"I NEED TO PUT A STOP TO THIS!" Laphicet barged out front. "Don't worry. I can handle a dragon."

She charged up a bolt of white energy.

Molly felt a prickling in her spine, then a feeling of absolute revulsion, as though her body were trying to reject its own insides. All of a sudden, Zaveid ripped himself away from the Armatus, leaving a normal-sized Molly plummeting downward through the air.

"FALL THIS WAY, BEAR TRAP!" Giovanni positioned himself to catch her in his arms.

Thankfully, he did so, and Molly panted, "That's not how falling works, but thanks."

Zaveid's pendulum-whip cracked into Laphicet, the sharp pain sending her reeling. The shot went wild, missing Zel'xed completely.

"WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR?" Laphicet raged at Zaveid.

"THE HELL I WAS GONNA LET YOU DO THAT AGAIN!" Zaveid snarled.

Laphicet's eyes widened. She understood.

"Zaveid, no!" Lailah protested. "This isn't like that time!"

"That kid already took one seraph from me," Zaveid snarled. "If we gotta put this one out of its misery, so be it, but I'm NOT – "

"LOOK OUT!" Molly shrieked.

Zel'xed was coming right for them, head-on.

Molly's brain raced. She needed to dumb down the impact, but didn't have enough power to do that all on her own –

"HEPHSIN YULIND!"

Molly had called Edna to her, the two of them hitting the roof of the Iron Vulture as one armatized being. Molly punched one of the giant gauntlets down into the airship, muttering, "Come on come on come ON – "

The air around the Iron Vulture sparkled with power.

Then Zel'xed hit.

It was enough to wreck the ship's engines, to shatter the walls. But with Molly's Epithet in play, the attack was dumbed down in a strange way. It wasn't stopped or softened. It was slowed. Zel'xed's blow felt extremely muffled, and the Iron Vulture began to descend like an air-filled balloon rather than how an airship might normally fall, its seams coming apart just a little at a time.

That was when the cavalry arrived. Rose, Elsa, Velvet, Yang, Harley, Foulfellow, Gideon, Pinstripe, Tawna, Karnage. It was obvious Roman had stayed down to pilot the ship, and Snatcher, Mad Dog, and Dump Truck were assisting him with that.

"We're here!" Rose called out. "We got your emergency signal!"

"What emergency signal?" Lailah asked.

"We smelled chicken wild rice soup with lemon," Elsa explained. "Don't ask how we knew that was the emergency signal."

"It's the universal soup of airborne emergencies," Giovanni said flatly, as though everyone knew this. "I just misted it down into the cabin."

Zel'xed was scanning the air once more. "A DRAGON?" Elsa yelled.

"If you'll let me kill it, I can KILL IT!" Laphicet yelled.

"OVER MY DEAD BODY!" Zaveid tackled her.

"Hey, BREAK IT UP!" Yang dove to separate the two.

"We're falling slowly because of my Epithet," Molly said, "but we need to keep the dragon away until we hit bottom! Everyone, just – just attack!"

"Yo, Stripey!" Harley waved to Pinstripe. "Pitch me one of those bombs!"

She'd brought her bat on deck. Pinstripe threw a lit bomb to her, and she whacked it toward the dragon.

"Give me some too!" Tawna barked. So Pinstripe obliged, and she sent a bomb out with a swift, sharp kick.

Karnage, Mad Dog, and Dump Truck hustled to the smaller planes, taking off to fly a diversion pattern around the dragon. Lailah and Elsa sent a rain of fire and ice toward Zel'xed, trying to keep him away from the ship.

Meanwhile, Velvet, Foulfellow, and Gideon had shifted their sights to Zaveid and Laphicet, since Yang was having trouble holding them apart. Velvet planted down in front of Laphicet and growled like an animal; "You leave Laphi ALONE."

"You're gonna defend the kid after everything?" Zaveid yelled past Foulfellow and Gideon struggling to hold him back.

"Now, now!" Foulfellow choked. "What say you we settle this like gentlemen? Which is to say – well, I guess I don't know how gentlemen settle it, but this surely isn't helping!"

Zel'xed was kept back by the increasing amount of projectiles, magical and non-magical, thrown at him. Rose was the only one without anything to do, so she merely watched. After a moment, she stepped up to Lailah and Elsa, asking, "Why doesn't it just come after us? Why is it so bad at dodging?"

"Because it's reading the wind," Lailah said. "It's blind. Just like – "

Rose gasped, eyes wide. "You don't think that's – "

"It can't be, Rose!" Lailah urged. "He's gone! You can't think any other way, or else – "

The Iron Vulture picked up momentum as it plummeted the last stretch. Zel'xed lost interest, pulling up into the skies. Then – BANG.

The airship hit ground and finally fell to pieces. As the smaller planes landed, Karnage leapt out of his before it had even touched ground, shrieking "MY SHIP! MY BEAUTIFUL, BEAUTIFUL IRON VULTURE!".

Roman, Snatcher, Mad Dog, and Dump Truck exited the part of the cabin that was still standing. "So this would normally be the part where I ask what the hell just happened," Roman sighed, "but that assumes I even want to know. So tell me. Do I want to know?"
"The good news is it wasn't a bird," Elsa told him.

Roman sighed. "And the bad news?"

"Dragon," Elsa replied.

Roman shrugged. "Dragon. Sure. WORSE than a bird. Why am I not surprised here?"

"Seems we'll be continuing the rest of it on foot," Snatcher sighed.

"It's kind of ironic, boss," Mad Dog said. "You took the ship because you didn't wanna use the wagons, but since we left the wagons behind to use the ship, now we don't have anything to ride in!"

"I am aware very well of the ironicness," Karnage growled through gritted teeth.

"Do you see the even better news, though?" Lailah pointed to a city wall rising nearby. "We made it to just outside Lastonbell, which means we can stop and rest for a while before we pick back up! And from there, it's only a short hike to Glaivend Basin, and once we cross that, we'll be in Hyland, which is much smaller than Rolance!"

"I'm guessing it's actually a pretty long trip on the whole," Yang said, "but cutting it into pieces like that helps. So long as we get to Mikleo in time."

"His voice is still strong," Elsa said. "He's fighting."

"Um…Mikleo?" Roman repeated. "Are we forgetting something else here? Like getting to SYMONNE in time?"

"Oh, I'm sure Symonne is just fine!" Lailah insisted. "She's survived a whole lot of terrible, awful things. She'll pull through!"

"And we don't really got a choice," Harley sighed. "It's walk or nothin'."

"Fine, then!" Roman started to storm toward Lastonbell's gates. "Let's just go have a vacation because she's OBVIOUSLY so used to suffering that it doesn't MATTER anymore!"

Snatcher pointed around to the others; "You ought to be very, VERY ashamed of yourselves for such logic. And I'd know." He turned to stalk off after Roman.

"They have a point," Velvet piped up. "We shouldn't stop, not for anything. We have to keep going."

"Did you beat Artorius by just barreling at him full speed?" Zaveid asked her. "No. If they wanna run ahead, they can. If you wanna run ahead, you can. But the rest of us need a time-out or we're gonna wreck ourselves."

"I hate to go against our fearless leader Roman Torchwick," said Foulfellow, "but he's absolutely out of line here. We need rest, relaxation, recuperation!"

"And we may as well see what piracy we can commit while we are in such a luxurious region ripe for pirating…" Karnage licked his lips.

Velvet gave a sigh. "Fine. But don't expect me to relax. I'm only here so long as the Shepherd is."

"I mean, shouldn't the Shepherd be the one making the decisions here?" Giovanni asked. "What say you, Bear Trap? Also, not that I'm trying to influence you or anything, but that landing banged up my evil ensemble pretty bad and I'd like a bit of down time to fix it up…I'm just saying…"

"I…um…" Molly was sweating. "I don't know. We have to take care of ourselves, but we also have people waiting on us to rescue them, and I don't know which one's more important! Lailah, help me please?"

"As the Shepherd, you'll sometimes have to make decisions to which there's no clear answer," Lailah informed her. "The only way to know the consequences of your actions is to live them out. What do you think in your heart?"

"I think…I think I'm all shaken up from that landing, and I think Zaveid and Laphi need to talk about what happened on that ship, and I think Rose and Lailah were gonna say something too before we crashed, and I think I'm too tired to think!" Molly cried. "Okay, we need to stop! But Roman and Mr. Snatcher went on ahead – "

"I'll kick some sense into 'em," Tawna resolved. "C'mon, Stripes."

"Yeah," Pinstripe agreed, "we gotta talk 'em into helpin' out with the big heist Don Karnage mentioned!"

With that, the group moved out toward Lastonbell.

"Molly," Velvet grunted.

"Yeah?" Molly asked with trepidation.

"This wasn't the choice I would've made," Velvet told her flatly.

"I know," Molly said. "But – "

"Let me finish," Velvet sighed. "I think it's a bad idea. But you don't. And you stood by that. That's what makes a real Shepherd. Someone who's willing to stand by their beliefs. And at the end of the day, the first Shepherd I ever knew only held beliefs that helped himself. At least what you chose was to help everyone out. So I'll follow your lead, and in the future, say what you think with a little more confidence, even if your friends don't believe in it."

"Oh," Molly realized. "Thank you."

...

"All right!" Chrysta proclaimed. "We've gotta make our first stop the Isle of the Magic Forge. See?"

She'd taken Rapunzel, Stork, Ven, Papyrus, Sofia, and little Stormy across a bridge to a stone fortress. Through the windows, one could see the glow of various fires.

"Normally, if you had your enchantlets, you'd be able to get your Which-Way Bows by combining them with hair strands from the Mare of the Mist," Chrysta explained. "Also, normally, you'd find the Mare on the Isle of Unicorns. And normally, we'd be able to get you your Necessi-Keys from the Protectors storeroom. But these aren't normal times. You don't have your enchantlets, I don't have access to the Hall of Protectors, and we just learned that Prisma's focusing all her energy on sucking the Isle of Unicorns dry before she moves on to the next isle, so that means the Mare of the Mist is out. So we'll just have to forge you some new tools."

Inside the fortress, creatures of every magical race you could imagine, big and small, toiled between a network of anvils, fires, and cauldrons of magma. Distinctly magical-looking tools and weapons were neatly arrayed in their designated storage spaces: a rack of swords, a shelf of hourglasses, a stack of enchanted dishes.

Stork ventured to peer into a cauldron. The molten metal bubbled and popped dangerously close to his face. He quickly veered away from it.

"Hey, Chrysta!" An elf in a worker's apron waved to the incoming party. "I thought I heard that all the Protectors were turned to stone!"

"Well, I'm no ordinary Protector," Chrysta laughed. "And I've brought help, but we're gonna need an equipment upgrade if we're gonna face the usurpers. I'm training them to be Protectors, and they're gonna need the tools of the trade."

"Did they not get their enchantlets?" the elf asked.

"Well, we passed the test, but…" Rapunzel laughed nervously. "We kinda…sorta…"

"Had them stolen out from under our noses by murderous forces of evil," Stork said flatly. "No fault of our own."

The elf put two and two together looking at Stormy. "Oh…OH." She gasped, a hand flying to her face. "The arcticondors – "

"That's why we need the equipment," Chrysta said. "Look, I know I said never to touch the emergency supply of the Mare's hair unless there's an emergency, but – "

"This is an emergency, all right," the elf breathed. "Okay. They won't be official Which-Way Bows, but the enchantment should work the same. Just don't ask them questions that are too complicated."

"What's a Which-Way Bow?" Sofia asked.

"It's a special tool that helps point your way," Chrysta explained. "You draw back the bow and ask it where something is, anything at all. Then a magic arrow points the way you need to go to get there. The problem is that unofficial Which-Way Bows that aren't connected to enchantlets tend to get…confused easily. For instance, if you were trying to get through the Isle of Labyrinths, a real Which-Way Bow would be able to guide you through every turn of the maze. The ones you're getting just give you the direction of the exit, and you have to figure out the twists and turns yourself."

"It's better than not having anything like that at all," Ven said sincerely. "That's magic even I don't know. It'll be a big help."

"We're also gonna need Necessi-Keys," Chrysta said.

The elf sighed with relief; "Now those I can make."

"What's a – " Sofia began.

"A Necessi-Key allows you to open a door in any wall anywhere," Chrysta said. "All you have to do is draw the door, and it opens right up for you. We're still going to the Isle of Labyrinths to practice, and you're gonna draw your way to the exit by cutting through the walls. Easy!"

"Too easy," Stork muttered. "Gotta be a catch."

"Not this time." Chrysta shook her head. "This time, I'm just going straightforward. No tricks, no catches. I'm just showing you how to use the tools."

"I don't have magic like that either," Ven realized. He summoned his Keyblade to give it a look-over; "And that's weird, all considered."

The elf gasped, her eyes sparkling. "Is that a REAL KEYBLADE? Oh my gosh – oh my GOSH! Chrysta! You didn't tell me you brought a MASTER!"

"I'm not a master," Ven said quickly. "I've never taken the exam, let alone passed it. It's…complicated. But I'm here to help however I can."

"You know," the elf teased, "Mastery is really just a title that other people give you. If you're good enough for it, even without anyone saying it, you're a real Keyblade Master. Or so I've heard. Anyway!" She clapped her hands together. "Five Which-Way Bows and five Necessi-Keys. Anything else I can get for you?"

"Well…" Chrysta mulled it over. "We will need a way to travel between the Isles since most of our guests here don't have wings. Not sure what could help with that, though. I was gonna make a pit stop at the Isle of Magic Carpets, but that's so far away it might defeat the purpose. And with the crystal farm choking out the unicorns' magic…"

"Ehm." Stork cleared his throat. "Actually…since we're here in a forge, with a lot of metal at our disposal…I have an idea of what we could use. I'd just need to draw out a blueprint."

...

Morgana, Yzma, and Wuya shoved open the doors of the treasure room, and Darla stalked inside. "There better be good stuff in here," the child sighed.

"If there isn't, then we'll MAKE it good," Yzma insisted. "Even now those would-be heroes are figuring out ways to get around not having their enchantlets."

"Which are super tacky, by the way," Darla sighed. "I don't have any one outfit that goes with all five of these…"

"I could make you one," Wuya told her. "But you're going to have to be okay with…avant-garde."

"The point is, you're our personal Protector of the Mystic Isles, sweetie," Morgana reiterated. "We gotta make you look the part."

However, it was soon clear that the treasure room of the Protectors was enormous, and there wasn't quite clear labeling on what was what. ("Yes, yes, I get the irony," Yzma sighed.)

"All right." Wuya clapped her hands together, then shut her eyes. "I'm just going to let my Shen Gong Wu sense take over here and guide me to the most useful items."

As Wuya began to sally forth with the gait of someone playing pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey, Morgana rolled her eyes. "Didn't you tell me that ONLY works on Shen Gong Wu?"

"As far as I've documented," Wuya replied, feeling her way along a wall. "Never say never." Her head perked up. "THIS WAY!" She then ran headlong into a different wall. "Ow."

Yzma moved over to steady Wuya's shoulders and give them a bit of a comforting rub while she was at it. "It's all right, you know," she said. "I'm sure we'll find what we're looking for once we…well…know what we're looking for."

"You saying I can't do this?" Wuya was now tying a violet blindfold around her eyes.

"N-no!" Yzma sputtered. "I'm just saying – "

Wuya had hit another wall. "Ow."

Morgana let out a sigh. "Darla, wanna go for some of those animal crackers you love mutilating while we wait for the team jellyfish to realize they don't have any brains?"

"I'm not waiting any longer than I have to for whatever new powers I'm gonna get!" Darla said through gritted teeth. Then her demeanor shifted entirely to soft and sweet: "Though I would be honored to have teatime with you after."

There was a sudden crash. Wuya had charged right into a door, which had opened, and she stumbled into a side closet. Yzma, Morgana, and Darla hurried after her.

"Wuya!" Yzma gasped. "Are you…all…"

"Fine, thanks for asking." Wuya was already up and dusting herself off. "Anyway, I sense there are magical items we could use over in THIS corner – "

She turned around. Yzma spun her right back to face the closet, then yanked the blindfold down before pointing.

The closet was filled with equipment lined up in row upon row. The only reason these items would need to be duplicated so many times was if they were standard equipment for all Protectors.

"I did it," Wuya said flatly.

"YES!" Darla ran into the closet, now her own personal toy store. "I want one of EVERYTHING! And don't think this gets you out of getting me anything for Christmas!"

...

The basement of the Myers Corporation was as cold and dark as ever. A shaft of light, a glimmer of false hope, entered when Monsieur M himself did.

Vincent tried to will himself to get up, rush the door, get out. But Monsieur M always took his sweet time about it because he knew that Vincent could barely move, crawling on the floor, hindered by the pain that shot through him every time he tried to move his new metal skeleton.

"Still adjusting, I see." Monsieur M knelt to place a plastic tray on the floor. "It's taco Tuesday, you know. I remember how much you hated taco Tuesday, so I made sure to get you four tacos. After all, you're desperate enough, aren't you?"
"F…fuck you…" Vincent panted, reaching for the tray. His hand wobbled, plunging the exposed metal right down into the food. They hadn't given him synthetic skin on that hand yet, so he couldn't even feel the texture of it.

"Oh, they were out of forks," Monsieur M said as he rose. "But you don't mind, do you? After all, it's this or you go hungry another day."

"Why?" Vincent croaked. "Why do you…"

"Keep you down here?" Monsieur M filled in. "Because my corporation is about progress, Vincent. You are a stepping stone to progress. I thought you once believed in that mission."

"No," Vincent choked out. "Why…taunt me?"

"Oh, that?" Monseiur M chuckled. "Because I don't like you. You're a stick in the mud. Always were, always will be. See, I'd tell you that you should really take lessons from your friend Victor, who is much more entertaining, but I don't know, something about him hasn't been the same ever since you came down here. Wonder why…"

Vincent forced himself up to his hands and knees. "You…god damn…DEVIL…"

"Happy eating," Monsieur M said, briskly turning and walking out of Vincent's holding area. "Oh, and one more thing."

Vincent was already forcing himself to eat off the tray like a dog.

"You're slated for another corrective surgery tomorrow. So don't go TOO overboard."

Vincent's jaw fell open, releasing the scraps. "You…you monster. You only brought me food because you knew I COULDN'T EAT IT!"

"You could eat it," Monsieur M said. "If you were feeling suicidal enough to chance the operation. Or I could always just…forgo the anaesthetic. You're used to that by now, right?"

Vincent was struggling to crawl after him, ready this time to hunt him down and kill him, but Monsieur M was already out the door; "Toodle-oo."

"Wait, NO!" Vincent screamed, knowing what came next. "DON'T SHUT THE – "

With a SLAM, Vincent was once again in total blackness. No visual indicator of how large or small of a space he was in. No idea where anything was, or if he existed at all. The hand that still bore flesh could at least feel the way, but the one left as uncovered metal would only work well as a cane for the blind, not as a way to touch.

"Don't shut the door," Vincent repeated. "Don't shut the door, don't shut the door, don't shut the door, don't – "

"Vincent. VINCENT!"

"Don't – " Vincent could feel the weight of two hands on his shoulders. "Not the door – who's there? WHO ARE YOU?"

"Vincent, wake up, please!" The gentlest of shakes.

Vincent realized there was light after all. It was on the other side of the dark. Suddenly, it became so clear to him, he could just open his eyes –

He awoke from the nightmare to the dimly lit room at Rin's, with Victor's hands softly resting on his shoulders. It was too unbelievable. A comfortable room, a light, Victor actually here –

Vincent was convinced this, in fact, was the dream. And at that conclusion, he couldn't hold back the tears.

"No," he choked. "No, it isn't fair…you're not real…I'd give anything but you're NOT."

"Vincent, this is real," Victor said softly. "That was a dream. You're safe here with me."

"It can't be," Vincent panted. "It…it can't. It's too good to be true."

Victor's face was contorted with worry. Then he sighed. "If you want to believe it's a dream…then at the very least, take it as a respite from what you've been suffering. If this is a dream, then stay in it as long as you can. It's all right."

Dreaming of light. Of Victor. It wasn't a bad idea. All Vincent would have to do was stay asleep. A certain fatigue was overcoming him, the sort that an awake person might see as the urge to sleep – but he was so sure he was still asleep, not awake, that he feared the sensation was actually wakefulness come to him. Adrenaline jolted through him; he fought it. He had to stay awake so he could stay asleep.

"Victor," he choked. "If you're here…" Without a further word, he sat up to collapse against Victor's chest, holding him tightly. "Don't leave…"

"It's all right." One of Victor's hands reached up to stroke Vincent's head – exactly the way he'd figured out how to do if he wanted to hit Vincent's weak point. "I'm right here. You're safe. I won't let anything happen to you."

Vincent held on tight, feeling every sensation twice over, committing it to memory. He had to be able to recall this perfectly if he awoke in the basement. The hand on his head, the hand gripping at the small of his back, the hand gently rubbing back and forth between his shoulders –

Victor only had two hands. Even in dreams.

When Vincent realized this, he pushed away slightly, turning to look over his shoulder. The third hand was Albert's. Albert, kneeling on the floor by Vincent's side of the bed, sheepishly reaching up to deliver what comfort he could.

"You," Vincent panted. All the more evidence it was a dream, because never would he say in the real world how much he missed his rival, how many times his thoughts would drift toward Albert down in the basement. It was even better than before, certainly far too good to be true.

"I apologize," Albert said softly. "I trusted Xerxes to take away your nightmares. He failed, and it was my fault. I didn't hold him accountable. I didn't…I let this happen. I'm so sorry."

"No," Vincent told him. "If you're here…then you need to know that I – " He choked on his own words. "I don't want to fight with you, not now, please. Just let me stay here in the dream with both of you."

"It isn't a dream, Vincent," Albert said softly. "Of all people, I would know, wouldn't I?"

"You'd say that," Vincent hissed. "You'd both say that. But I don't care."

Then he was struck with motivation. He pushed away from Victor again. "Victor," he said, "I love you. I love you so much. Please, when I say what I'm about to say, don't think it means I don't love you."

"What do you – " Victor's eyes widened. "Vincent. No. You're AWAKE and you're not in your right mind. This isn't the time."

"This is the only time," Vincent said. "The only time there ever will be. If I die down here, he'll never know – you'll never know – "

He cut himself off, then pivoted all the way around so he could grab onto Albert, hugging him tight as he could.

"…Vincent?" Albert choked out. "Am…am I the one dreaming?" He thought it over, felt it out. "No, this is definitely real…"

"Albert," Vincent said shakily. "I could never say it out loud to you. Not when I was awake, not before all this, but I…I MISSED you. I NEEDED you. When you called, I – I'm so sorry I left you, and that it isn't even for your own benefit that I'm saying this, but because I needed you for ME."

"Vincent, please," Albert replied softly. "You're…you're not clear on what's reality and what isn't. I'm very flattered, don't get me wrong, but we both know you wouldn't say these things and – this…isn't ever how I wanted to hear them."

"I could have loved you too," Vincent whispered.

"Wha – " Albert's eyes widened. "Vincent, no, Victor is right here, he's the one you want – "

"I wish we'd brought you with us," Vincent continued. "I wish you'd stayed with us. I wish – I wish – I wish you'd be mine."

"N-no!" Albert was terrified. "You can't – Victor is right here!"

"You have to find him," Vincent insisted. "When I wake up. Please find him, because you're the only one…if I die, then you're the one who can make him happy, and…and you'll never find a better man. But here, in this dream…please…be with me."

"Victor, I'm – " Albert sputtered. "I'm sorry, I didn't know he would say this, I swear I didn't do anything – "

"It's all right," Victor said softly. "It's…not my place to say in this moment, but this is no betrayal. It's something that's been discussed, to put it shortly. But not anything anyone can consent to in this state. Vincent, please, save it for later. The dream – this will last."

"No, it won't!" Vincent screamed. "IT WON'T! I'M ALONE! ANY MINUTE NOW I'LL WAKE UP AND YOU'LL BE LEFT BEHIND IN MY DREAMS, AND YOU WON'T EVEN KNOW TO LOOK FOR EACH OTHER! You won't even know." His grip on Albert tightened to uncomfortable levels.

Albert then cleared his throat. "Vincent…I'm understanding that both of us being here together gives you comfort."

"You don't even know." Vincent's voice cracked. He then released Albert, turning back to face Victor. "You don't know either – how much I need you – "

Victor gently took Vincent's hand into both of his own. "I promise you're safe here," he said softly. "You may not believe me for a while. But I promise you're safe."

"Maybe you should…" Albert fumbled the words. "Maybe WE should…" He motioned with his hands, toward Victor, toward the side of the bed Albert had left unoccupied.

"That's a good idea." Victor slid over to the empty side of the bed, pulling Vincent along. Vincent let himself be repositioned to the center of the bed, and in the gap left behind him, Albert tucked himself in, keeping a hand on Vincent's back. "We're both here now," Victor said. "We'll keep you safe."

"Stay," Vincent begged. "Please stay. I can't wake up, I can't go back there – "

"We'll stay," Albert promised. "We won't ever split up again. I promise."

"I can't go back," Vincent repeated. "I can't go back."

Victor propped himself up to look over at Albert. "This…may take a while to resolve."

"I know," Albert replied. "I'm a therapist."

"If you'd be more comfortable doing something else, then now's the time."

Albert shook his head. "No. I'm here for however long it takes. All night, even."

"As am I." Victor settled back down. "We're here, Vincent. We'll stay awake with you. Or in the dream, if that's how you think this is."

Vincent's hands fumbled both ways. One grabbing onto Victor's shoulder, the other groping back to Albert's waist, and he squeezed tight, past the point where it was at all comfortable for either of his companions. "I don't want to wake up," he croaked.

"Then don't," Victor and Albert thought to say at the same time.

For hours, the three of them lay awake there, reliving emotions that they'd all hoped to leave distinctly in the past.

...

The Isle of Labyrinths was perhaps misnamed, since it was really just one big labyrinth. ("Between the minotaur and the Goblin King," Chrysta had explained, "it's easier just to say it as a plural. Less confusing that way.") Here, Chrysta had invited the substitute Protectors to practice using their Which-Way Bows and Necessi-Keys. And here was where they rode on their new skimmers, forged in the style of Atmosian bikes. The asexual pride colors had returned for Rapunzel, Stork, Ven, and Papyrus. Sofia, in the meantime, had a lavender bike studded with decorative pink gems; a special basket seat was installed on it for Stormy to ride in.

"This was GENIUS, Stork," Rapunzel babbled. "I still can't believe you could sketch all the parts from memory!"

Stork hoped his blush wasn't too obvious. "Yeah. Well. I had a lot of time on my hands when…y'know…there was exile and war…and I did have to build the Condor over again from scratch that one time. Of course, the one thing I couldn't handle was the paint job, so thanks again for picking that up. Looks seamless, like a pro job."

"Aww, thank you!" Rapunzel replied.

They landed at the entrance of the labyrinth, assembling for training. "All you have to do is get in on this side and out on the other," Chrysta said. "Ready…set…GO!"

In went the Protector team. "We should start by seeing which way the exit is," Sofia said. She drew her Which-Way Bow from her belt (enchantlet users could store them away in inventory-space, but no such luck for the current crowd, barring Ven). With a flick of her wrist, Sofia pointed the bow at the sky, drawing back its string. "Which way is the exit?" she asked, firing off the arrow that appeared.

The arrow went straight up, spun round and round in a circle, then dropped like a stone back at Sofia's feet.

"Weird," Sofia muttered.

"Think something went wrong with the forging?" Ven wondered aloud.

"NO, I DON'T," Papyrus said. "I THINK YOU ALREADY CONFUSED YOUR BOW, WHICH IS NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT, SINCE IT COULD HAPPEN TO ANYONE. SEE, EVERY BUILDING THAT EXISTS HAS AN EXIT, AND TECHNICALLY IT DID POINT US TO ALL OF THEM EVERYWHERE. YOU NEED TO BE MORE SPECIFIC." He drew his own bow, pointing it to the sky. "WHERE'S THE EXIT TO THE LABYRINTH?"

His arrow did the exact same thing as Sofia's, dropping harmlessly to the ground.

"NOPE, IT'S BROKEN," Papyrus resolved.

"Maybe not." Rapunzel raised hers to the sky. "Which way is the exit to the labyrinth that we are currently inside of?"

"Ooh, good way to block the loopholes," Stork realized.

Rapunzel shot the arrow up. This one pointed a specific direction.

"YES!" Rapunzel pumped a fist, then instinctively turned to Stork, holding out her hand. He slapped her a very gentle high-five (or high-four in his case). "We just have to be super specific! It's like Papyrus said. There are plenty of labyrinths, so how was the bow supposed to know?"

"Super specific," Ven repeated. "I think I can work with that. Anyway…" He held up his Necessi-Key. "Let's start making doors!"

He drew an arch in the stone of the nearest wall, and it melted away, leaving an open space for them to pass through to the other side. From there, they took turns putting doors in the walls until they reached the exit.

...

Darla sauntered into a lounge where Max had arranged a table of sugary snacks and upscale non-alcoholic beverages. Prisma, Mera, Morgana, and Indus were her guests of honor.

"It has been a long time since I have been invited to a proper tea party," Indus said gratefully.

"Like…never?" Mera filled in. "We've literally never been to a tea party. This is weird. Do I have to do the pinky thing or…?"

"Only if you want to look as sophisticated as I do." Darla raised a cup using that very method.

"So that's a yes," Mera grumbled.

"What did you find in the treasure room today?" Prisma asked. "I'm sure it was NOTHING as good as the crystals I've been growing on the Isle of Unicorns, so hurry it up and I can tell you about MY day!"

"Well, I did find these." Darla put a bright pink bow with a shimmering string on the tea table, followed by a gleaming key, also bright pink. "Not sure what they do just yet, but they looked important."

"Oh, I know what those are!" Prisma gasped. "That's a Which-Way Bow and a Necessi-Key! They're powerful Protector tools! Pick up the bow and draw it, then fire at the ceiling!"

Darla raised a brow.

"Trust me," Prisma urged.

So Darla did it. Just before she loosed the arrow, Prisma urged, "Now ask it where something is that you want to find!"

"Where is my adoring public?" Darla asked.

With a twang, the arrow was released to the ceiling. Being a true Which-Way Bow that was linked to Rapunzel's stolen enchantlet, the bow was able to give a specific answer in tune with what Darla really wanted, and pointed a particular direction.

"The majority of the Mystic Isles is that way," Prisma indicated. "It's probably pointing to the greatest number of people you can trick into loving you!"

"What trick?" Darla laughed. "I'm lovable."

"Hey, let me try that." Mera swiped the bow from Darla. "Show me who's the idiot in the room!"

The arrow bounced off the ceiling, came down to hover over the tea table, and spun once before stopping to point at Indus. Everyone broke out into hysterical laughter, even Indus.

"It is funny because I am stupid!" he said good-naturedly.

"Now give me back my bow so I don't have to hurt you, pretty please," Darla asked sweetly. Mera obliged.

"Now, the Necessi-Key lets you make a door anywhere," Prisma said. "Go use it like a pencil on the wall!"

Darla drew a heart-shaped arch in the wall of the lounge, and such a thing immediately cut itself out – giving a view of the Lobster Mobster juggling several spheres.

"And they said my shell-juggling act would never get me anywhere in life!" he said. "Well, after all these secret practice sessions pay off, I can finally show those circus crabs who's boss – "

Mera gave an exaggerated throat-clear. The Lobster Mobster froze, the balls falling to the ground unattended. "Y-you didn't see anything!" he said quickly.

"Yes, we did," Indus said. "We saw Darla draw an adorable heart-shaped door in the wall, and we saw you juggling all those rainbow balls, and then we saw you drop them, and I also see a bird outside the window. It is very pretty."

"Door vanishes in three…" Prisma pointed out. "Two…" And then the wall was sealed off again.

"Now that will be useful," Darla said, bouncing the key in her palm.

"Question," Mera said. "What happens if you draw the door in a thick wall, and you're not all the way through the tunnel you made before the door runs out?"

Prisma winced. "I don't think that's ever happened, but we really shouldn't try it. Anyway, now that Darla knows how all her new toys work, can I FINALLY tell you about the crystals I made?"

...

As Rapunzel, Stork, Papyrus, Ven, and Sofia lined up before Chrysta and Stormy at the labyrinth's exit, Chrysta swung a fist and proclaimed, "I think you're just about ready!"

...

"I think I'm just about ready for my big press conference," Darla told Yzma and Wuya.

The two women exchanged a sly glance. "All we have to do is wrangle the crowd," Yzma said.

"This silver tongue will be able to do that easily." Wuya placed a soft fingertip on Yzma's lower lip. "Our little girl's about to pull her biggest scheme yet."

Yzma actually sniffled. "I'm so proud. Also, someone must be cutting onions in the next room over."

"Yes, dear," Wuya teased. "Someone's definitely using our billiards room for onions."

...

When the sun crested the horizon in the window outside, Vincent suddenly got the feeling that this had been the realm of the awake all along. The basement was what was the dream.

Five in the morning rolled around to see him lying flat on the mattress, staring wide-eyed and mortified up at the ceiling. For several hours, he had just absolutely made a fool of himself by actions including but not limited to screaming, crying, losing grip on reality, being weak as he possibly could, and undeniably confessing his feelings to Albert Krueger.

Bouncing back from that was going to be difficult. He eventually croaked out the words "I'm going to kill that fucking eel."

Victor and Albert still had their posts to either side of him. Victor had just kept Vincent engaged in conversation the whole night, but Albert had nipped out briefly to bring back another book on Radiant Garden marine life, and admittedly, listening to him babble about fish had been a very good distraction from the threat of the cyborg basement.

"I take it we are now lucid," Victor said teasingly.

"Unfortunately," Vincent muttered.

"You're confident now that this is reality?" Albert asked.

"All the more unfortunately," Vincent grumbled. Then he sighed. "I was pathetic."

"No, you weren't," Victor told him. "It was all incredibly understandable."

"I'm going to maul Monsieur M's head right off his shoulders when I see him again," Vincent growled.

"I won't stop you," Victor replied.

"I kept you up all night," Vincent said bluntly.

"A small sacrifice," Victor said casually.

"I bawled like a CHILD."

"We don't have to bring it up ever again."

Then Vincent realized he had to face the issue he'd been avoiding. He struggled into an upright sitting position, glancing over at Albert and immediately averting his eyes. "Things were said," he mumbled.

"Yes," Albert said with a teasing smile. "They certainly were. There's still time for you to take them back, you know."

Vincent lowered his face into his hands. "I suppose there's no point now. Albert, will…" He sighed. "The question stands. Don't make me say it."

"You need to tell me how Victor factors into this," Albert said.

"He's perhaps more enamored with you than I am," Vincent muttered.

Albert's eyes widened. "Is that so?"

"It was an agreement between Vincent and myself," Victor said. "Both of us had detected a certain allure in you…one that perhaps has lain dormant for longer than either of us realized. But it would have been easy for me to push the issue too far. Vincent had to be the one to ask."

"So answer the question," Vincent snapped. "Just do it."

Albert was trying very hard to fight his joy, but it became so very apparent on his face. "I had realized I was falling for both of you, you realize. But I thought with the two of you loving one another...well, you know what I assumed. I'd hardly want to come between that. But if all of us here are in agreement, then…yes. I will be yours, both of yours." He was positively giddy at this point. "Vincent."

"What?"

"You LIKE me."

"Don't remind me."

"I always knew you found me too amazing to resist."

"Albert. Don't push it."

"I think you two actually like doing this," Victor accused. "Oh, and if we're going to make it all official…" He reached over to lightly grab Vincent's shoulder.

Vincent melted into his touch, turning to face Victor, and their lips met, softly connecting as though they were always meant to be. Albert watched them a moment wistfully, wondering how he could ever live up to the way they blended together, but then Victor let Vincent go and had a finger under Albert's chin, firing off his most sultry bedroom eyes. Vincent gave a chuckle as Victor pressed a kiss to Albert's mouth – Albert looked like he was about to die from pure disbelief. Then Albert's better sense kicked in and he threw his arms around Victor, pulling him close.

When they separated, Vincent gave Albert an almost predatory smirk. "My turn."

"Impress me, Vincent," Albert said. "After all, Victor will be hard to top – "

Vincent lightly yet forcefully pinned Albert down to the bed before delivering him a fierce kiss. Albert needed but a moment to compose himself before letting it happen, giving it his all, trying to kiss Vincent better than Vincent was kissing him. And if ever there were two tongues actually battling for dominance, it was theirs.

Victor was perhaps a little too satisfied watching them make out – he was starting to get in the mood for a little more, and he felt daring enough to propose it. "You know," he said, "now that we're all in agreement…I do wonder which one of you could satisfy me more here and now." He winked.

It was a risk of a line, but it landed exactly the way he intended. Vincent and Albert let up on each other, exchanging glances and sly smiles.

"I think it will be me," Vincent said. "How about I prove that before your very eyes?"

"By all means, go ahead," Albert told him. "And once you're done, I will show our darling Victor the true meaning of bliss. I'll even let you watch."

Vincent looked to Victor. "It appears you're getting spoiled this morning."

"I promise not to expect it to become a habit," Victor replied coyly.

...

Loqi stumbled into the Lost Lounge of the Sun, arms crossed tightly over his chest, keeping in the blood from the wound. Mozenrath, the Huntsman, Jihl, Albel, and Miratrix all started toward him.

"NO," Loqi growled, turning one hand upward into a "stop" signal. "Don't come any closer."

"You need medical attention," the Huntsman reminded him.

"Just give me a clear shot and I can wrap it up in two seconds," Mozenrath sighed. "Magic, remember?"

"You do NOT get to do any such thing," Loqi seethed. "There are scars you cannot see."

"Do you WISH to bleed out?" the Huntsman barked.

Loqi glared at him with all the venom he could muster.

Jihl cleared her throat. "You won't even accept my help, then?"

After another long silence, Loqi growled, "Jihl. Only."
Jihl's eyes widened. "Well then."

"Suit yourself." Mozenrath conjured a roll of bandages, tossing it to Jihl over his shoulder. She fumbled it, mostly because Mozenrath's throw was awful. "Let's the rest of us get a better look at the competition."

He exited. Albel and Miratrix weren't far behind. The Huntsman lingered a bit longer, but when Loqi snapped "GET OUT" at him, he took the hint.

"All right, then," Jihl told Loqi. "Sit down on the couch. It'll be easier."

Loqi did so, arms still clasped protectively. "I don't show this to just anyone," he hissed. "You will keep what you're about to see a secret. Are we understood?"

"Of course," Jihl said. "But I can't imagine what exactly you're hiding so protectively. Embarrassing tattoo? Or are you hiding an Elder God's mass of tentacles beneath that armor?"

"A battle scar from the first one I ever killed," Loqi said, his tone softening. "I'm glad every day that she's dead. But no one can know. I am only chancing you knowing because…you make sense."

"I'd like to think we're friends at this point," Jihl told him. "And believe me, these lips lock tight. Now, why exactly is this scar so pertinent? I'm sure you have many already."

"I do," Loqi said. "But this scar is unmistakable. Anyone who sees…they'll know the nature of that murder…"

"Are you really afraid of people knowing you committed a murder? Haven't you already killed hundreds on our mission together?"

"This is different!" Loqi sputtered.

"Well, let me see." Jihl reached out for his arm, giving it a tug.

He kept his iron grip on his own chest. "They called her Sygyn," he told Jihl. "She was fascinated by the stories of Cor the Immortal. She wanted to become a soldier, to fight for Niflheim. They told her there was no place for a girl among the troops. That a girl was meant to be a delicate flower, like the Oracle. But they didn't know that they were wrong about her."

"A rival," Jihl identified. "Someone who shared your dream. You bumped off the competition to get where you were at your peak."

"How I wish that were the case," Loqi muttered. "There's…no recourse left but to let you see. It will change your mind. Speak one ill word and you can consider our bond dissolved."

Jihl was practically chuckling. "Just let me see the battle scar! It can't possibly be that bad. I probably won't even know which one it is."

Biting his lip in a display of unexpected vulnerability, Loqi finally removed his arms from his chest.

There was the wound from his battle with Terra, cutting near his stomach, leaking a waterfall of red. His chest was a patchwork of scars indeed – the multiple explosions he'd survived had definitely taken their toll. At first, Jihl thought he was simply overreacting, perhaps victim to some dysmorphic delusion.

Then she noticed it, and it couldn't be unseen. Twin scars, symmetrical on his chest, one curve under each nipple.

He saw when she realized what it was. "Say it," he spat.

"The one you spoke of was no girl," Jihl said. "They were wrong about him to call him such things. When they told him there was no place for a girl among the troops – which I would argue on its own by the way – it reminded him that he was nothing of the sort." She smiled gently. "I like the name 'Loqi.'"

"It seems to be shared with a rival of our benefactor," Loqi grumbled.

"Yours is spelled more uniquely, and you know it. That makes all the difference. You chose well."

"You now understand," Loqi insisted. Jihl started to wrap his open wound as he babbled. "Chancellor Izunia MADE ME WHO I AM. This body. Apart from the scars, it is indistinguishable from a man recognized from birth. The Niflheim army provided the funding, the technology, that birthed Loqi Tummelt. And killed Sygyn Tummelt in the process. She had to die for me to rise."

"The best trade anyone could have asked for," Jihl said.

"Does it disgust you?" Loqi's lip curled. "Are you play-acting to spare my feelings?"

"It doesn't make any difference to me, really," Jihl promised, and Loqi was so very aware of how her fingertips brushed at his chest where she wound the bandages. "I'm being quite honest. It's rather an interesting little factoid above all else. But don't worry; I'm not one to tell a soul. Her murder will be our little secret. It's the least I can do for such a man like you."

She pulled the bandages tight. Then her fingers lingered on Loqi's abdomen a little longer than they needed to.

"You will guard this secret with your very life," Loqi insisted, staring her dead in the eyes. "I trust you, Jihl Nabaat, Saboteur."

"I'm sure in time, you will come to learn something about me that I'd rather not have come to light," Jihl replied. "It will be as though I'm keeping my own secret, friend."

"Friend," Loqi replied.

They didn't break eye contact, simply staring in silence. Then he leaned toward her, and she placed her hand on his shoulder, and when their lips met, it was clear "friend" wasn't the right word.

...

Lastonbell's cobblestone streets were bustling as usual with merchants, farmers, traders, and the artisans for which the city was nicknamed. Its massive belfry stood guard over all, the bells holding silent until the top of the next hour.

The streets were packed with homes, shops, and facilities of all sorts. One such facility was a tavern and eatery, and it was of course here that Roman Torchwick and Archibald Snatcher had been cornered by Pinstripe and Tawna. Roman swirled a pint of beer in a glass, his self-control fighting with his urge to drown everything else out.

"And what's stopping me from heading on out right this fucking second?" he asked.

"You go now, you go without us," Pinstripe said. "We wanna put our feets up! Get a good night's rest!"

Tawna pointed to Roman's glass. "Also, if you drink all that, we're gonna have a heck of a time getting you to walk in a straight line tonight."

"I'm not that much of a lightweight," Roman muttered.

"Look," Pinstripe asserted, slamming a hand down on the bar. "The only way we's gonna get anywhere is by doin' this thing together! Right? We just sent our team's god and the Chosen One up against the bad guy's monster and they lost! What does that say about YOUR odds?"

"Not that I wanted to play this card," Tawna said, "but that particular monster has wings and can swallow you whole. I mean, if you REALLY wanna face that on your own…"

"You're forgetting a crucial component of the formula here," Roman argued. "I know you never met Symonne, but if she dies because of your dilly-dallying, I might just have to make a few cuts to the WHAM ARMY roster. Yes, yes, Archie, try to convince me Righty won't be happy with me, give me the spiel."

He paused. There was silence aside from the bar's general background chatter.

"Archie?" Roman noticed Snatcher staring into open space. He put a hand out in front of Snatcher's eyes, giving a hard snap.

Snatcher jolted. "Yes, yes, quite right! Agreed in full. Whatever you just said, no arguments here."

"Something's up with you," Roman told him. "That's the third time I caught you just glazing over since we almost fell off that tower. So, you gonna tell me what Shepherd Fancy-Pants did to your or what?"

"Nothing of note," Snatcher said quickly. "Disorientation is all. A moment or so and I'll have my bearings back, you can bank on that!"

Roman gave a look back to Tawna and Pinstripe – a look that spoke worlds different from what Roman's prior stance had been. "Give me one more good reason to stay here," he said, "and maybe I'll consider it."

Pinstripe and Tawna knew what he was getting at. Snatcher normally would've, but he was still so very distracted that it flew over his head. Roman had just realized Snatcher would benefit immensely from the night off – but wasn't about to make it look like he was staying in Lastonbell for that reason, or Snatcher would feel humiliated and undermined.

"We's doin' a biiiiig heist," Pinstripe said in a tantalizing tone. "Karnage and his boys, Foulfellow, Gideon – we're gonna steal everythin' this town got to steal! There's gonna be plenty of bombs!"

"In disguise and under the radar, of course," Tawna said. "Since we need to. You know. Stay here and not get chased out overnight."

"Ehhhh…I'm in." Roman tried to make it sound as though he hadn't already decided. "Archie, you in?"

"Yes, yes, of course." There he was in la-la land again. Roman wondered what it would get to take him to talk about the truth.

But all the same, Roman shook it off. "Just wish we had some kind of vanguard we could send to scout things out. Little Bo Peep isn't gonna let any of our flock get away, but if we could get somebody to actually figure out where the jerk's holding Symonne, case the place, maybe get her a jailbreak so we don't have to drag this out and we can actually jet."

"Well, that we don't got," Pinstripe told him, "so let's just stick with what we have, all right?"

"I mean…" Roman reached for his pocket. "There are two more candidates. I could commit acts of necromancy and send them out."

"Two?" Tawna repeated. "Unless they're extremely special operatives, I don't like those odds."

"Yeah, I haven't vetted 'em, and I can't speak for how well they're gonna take orders from someone they just met if we're not breathing down their necks," Roman admitted. "Not a bet I'd take. But if this keeps slowing up, I might like those odds more later."

"You think on that," Pinstripe told him. "We gotta go start plantin' explosives."

Roman hopped off the barstool, and though his reaction was delayed, Snatcher did the same. "All right," Roman said with a rather forced smile. "Let's turn this town upside-down."

Meanwhile, Velvet had grabbed Zaveid by the ear and Laphicet by the arm, dragging them toward the park. "We need to talk."

"Okay, okay!" Zaveid huffed. "Same old Velvet, I see."

The park was raised a story above the rest of the town, situated on a dais of stone. There, Velvet, Zaveid, and Laphicet started to walk (and float) a slow circle. "We could've had our dragon problem under control up there," Velvet grunted. "I think we both know why it wasn't."

"It's my fault," Laphicet said suddenly. "I can't apologize enough for what I did to Silva. I'm sorry, Zaveid. I was wrong. I wish I could bring him back."

"Good start," Zaveid grumbled. "About time you said it."

"I took on the role of Innominat because I wanted to make a better world," Laphicet muttered. "Sometimes it scares me how lost I became. How many things I did that couldn't even be justified. It's easy to see how Artorius convinced me moral suppression was the answer. But hurting Silva was nowhere in that plan."

"There's no taking back the past," Zaveid said. "What matters is what you do going forward."

"That dragon wasn't Silva."

"But it could've been a seraph," Zaveid said.

"There's no way to reverse it," Laphicet reminded him. "Even I can't. You know this."

"Yeah, well…" Zaveid sighed. "Would you believe it's more than just you zapping the dragon that set me off? Just got this big bad feeling like if I let the dragon get killed, I'd regret it somehow. Can't really explain it. If we met it again, not sure I could deal the final blow either."

"Hopefully, if we can stay on the ground, we can stay out of its way," Velvet said. "But we might have to make a final choice, Zaveid. Kill it or let it kill us. If you don't have a better reason than a gut feeling…"

"Yeah, yeah," Zaveid grumbled. "Anyway, Laphi, wasn't it? You toe the line and I'll make sure nothing bad happens to ya. But you hurt another one of mine, and I'm not gonna stop until I become a godslayer. Get it?"

"I wouldn't ask for less," Laphicet told him. "If I become that again…I'll need to be stopped. It's only the truth of things."

"So!" Zaveid clapped his hands. "How about this reunion, huh? Never thought I'd see you two again. Only WANTED to see one of you."

"So you missed me," Velvet grumbled.

"You miss me?" Zaveid's eyes sparkled.

"…Don't hit on me," Velvet sighed. "You'll just embarrass yourself."

"Hey, I recognize a fellow appreciator of the ladies," Zaveid told her. "And when I got no chance."

"I didn't exactly have room to miss you," Velvet admitted. "Laphi and I lived in a dream of our world of Desolation for a thousand years. The cycle repeated, different each time. Everyone we'd met was there. There was a version of you. We ran into you often."

"Haha, now that's what I like to hear!" Zaveid laughed. "The rest of the old gang happen to be in that dream?"

"All of them," Velvet affirmed. "Though we didn't know Phi's true nature until the very end. He's the one who brought us here."

"Good thing," Zaveid said softly. "You know they buried Rokurou in this town. He died facing off against Eizen. And as for Eizen…I made good on our promise."

Velvet and Laphicet pondered if they should try and tell Zaveid about the Dream Eaters that served as the second comings of their old friends. They knew he wouldn't believe it until he saw it.

"Is that part of why you changed?" Velvet asked.

"Having to put down Eizen?" Zaveid forced a laugh. "Nah. I was already rolling downhill before then. I'm not the same guy you knew back then, that's for sure."

"No," Velvet corrected. "You losing all your friends. Was that the catalyst?"

"You say that like it happened all at once," Zaveid sighed. "No, first Aifread died, then we took down Theodora together, then Eleanor died at about the time a human would, then Magilou's oaths ran out, then Rokurou let Eizen finish him off, and then I took out Eizen. More of a slow decline. Tried to make more friends, but the problem with humans is they don't last a millennium. As for seraphs…heh. Had one guy, and a kid. Let them go off and do their own thing together. Next thing I know they're both gone. And I'm still here and kickin'. Ain't that just the way."

"It sounds like you have a lot of grief on your shoulders," Velvet said.

"Eh." Zaveid waved it off. "Not like you haven't gone through worse. You didn't even get to see the world change. You just woke up and boom, it's this weird planet full of strangers. You figured out this city used to be Stonebury, right?"

"I thought parts of it seemed familiar," Velvet replied. "It's definitely a far stone's throw from the village I knew."

"Meanwhile, half the big cities are wiped off the map," Zaveid sighed. "No more Taliesin. Guess Loegres is still here, but they gave it a horrible paint job when they turned it into Pendrago."

"It's not an easy thing to adjust to," Velvet agreed. "But my life never has been about stability. When I lost Laphi, all those years ago…when I lost Artorius to evil, and we'd already lost Celica…I thought I'd lost everything. Especially when I was the one who slaughtered everyone in Aball. After a while, it became the norm that I would lose what I had. The things I came to rely on were the things that could adapt to change the same way I did. People who kept going even when their lives were ripped apart."

"I can't apologize enough for that either," Laphicet muttered. "If I'd just let the twelve-year sickness take me, then you and Arthur could've lived in peace."

"We could NEVER have lived in peace," Velvet seethed. "He would've shown his true colors sooner or later, especially with Melchior nipping at his heels. The Abbey would never have let him become a normal human being. I won't say what you did was good. But I don't think it would magically have been fixed if you'd let yourself die. Actually, if you'd done that, I think it would be less forgivable than what you did as Innominat. At least you fought for your life, and you won it."

"I don't know how it will work now that we're Dream Eaters," Laphicet told her. "But I might outlive you, since I'm an Empyrean. One day, I might know what it means to lose you."

"If that day comes," Velvet told him, "then take all your emotions and put them toward fighting for something you care about."

"Yeah, like I did!" said Zaveid. "…Guess that's the one good thing. Losing my pals was hard. Losing Theodora was even harder. But it kinda gave me extra energy to put into fighting. I became Zaveid the Exile! Hell, it's thanks to me we beat Heldalf the first time! …Me and the others on the team, of course, but it couldn't have been done without me! Dunno if I would've been able to do that if I didn't have that sadness from the past fueling me. Sucks to think about."

"Our pain makes us who we are," Velvet concluded. "I changed on the Scarlet Night. But I wouldn't say who I used to be was any more Velvet Crowe than I am now."

"You did change," Laphicet confirmed. "But it isn't a bad thing. I admire you so much for your strength, Velvet. And Zaveid…you grew into something powerful that I couldn't have expected." He paused. "It's me who wishes she had never changed. I'm glad not to be sick, but I miss feeling happier about the world and making lists of the places I want to see on adventures. I miss life at home with my family."

"But you got a family now, right?" Zaveid urged. "And adventures all around."

"That's true," Laphicet replied. "But being Innominat, having that consciousness thousands of years old residing in my heart, makes it feel like the weight of the world is on me. Maybe because I held the world in my hands…and my first idea of how to fix it was all wrong."

Zaveid nodded. "Kinda figured you were still a scared little kid in there even under all the Empyrean stuff. This might sound backward, but you just tipped your hand when you said that. I mean, kids don't make great decisions. Theodora and I always tried to steer our flock the right way, but I think we all know Artorius sure didn't do that."

"He put the idea in your head," Velvet said. "You may have carried it out. But you trusted him to advise you to do the right thing. Like he trusted Melchior."

"Maybe it goes all the way back," Laphicet muttered. "Maybe Melchior wanted to be different, too, but someone he loved convinced him that the wrong thing was right."

"The important thing is you broke the cycle!" Zaveid urged. "Focus on that. Anyway, what I'm getting outta this is that we've all got serious issues."

"All the better we met up again." Velvet nodded.

Across town, Elsa wandered the streets, peering into windows of shops aplenty. There were quite a few knickknacks here that caught her fancy, and she wondered if she should pick something up to deliver to Anna when she returned.

(Or…send to Anna, if she didn't.)

There was a rattling sound from the side alley, and then a man encased in light armor that looked like it had been cannibalized from a variety of different sports uniforms stumbled into the street. His shoulder pads were spiked, his face was hidden by a hockey helmet, and a black-and-orange skirt billowed over jet-black leggings – all in all a masculine look even with the skirt.

"HEY, LADY!" the masked man yelled. "GIMME ALL YOUR MONEY!"

Elsa gasped, putting up both hands. "Stay back! For your sake."

"Whoa, whoa!" The man quickly pulled off the helmet. "It was a joke! It's me!"

Elsa let down her guard. "Giovanni? Are you serious?"

"How do you like the new villain getup, ehhhh?" Giovanni urged. "No more Banzai Blaster associations for me! I'm my own bad guy now! All that's left to do is find matching yet personalized uniforms for the rest of the boys."

Elsa shook her head, smiling despite herself. "It's very you."

"Was that a compliment or an insult? I can't tell."

"Being you is a good thing," she clarified. "Though the helmet might be overdoing it."

"It's just for stealth situations or extra-tough fights." Giovanni tucked it under an arm. "Gotta find a bag to tote it around in or something. Hey, um, while we're here, I might have something I wanna say, so…"

Elsa nodded. "I'm listening."

Giovanni sighed. "So letting Bear Trap take the whole Shepherd thing on because you were a coward still wasn't one of your greatest ideas, and I'm not in love with it, but…it didn't turn out as bad as I thought it would, and I really haven't been factoring in Bear Trap's own part in the deal, so…I'm not exactly sorry, but I do forgive you, if that makes any sense."

Elsa nodded. "I promise I won't let anyone else you care about take that kind of fall. I thank you for your forgiveness."

"I mean, she is pretty much growing into it," Giovanni observed. "I guess I should've seen it a long time ago that she was more of a pure-of-heart type than an actual villainous minion. Only fitting she gets to be the big hero. So…um…truce?"

"Agreed," Elsa said with a nod. "After all, we are both in the same alliance, aren't we?"

"Hey, so you agreed to be an official Heathen of Harley!" Giovanni crowed. "Even if that's gonna get weird when you go back to the snow kingdom."

"That's…that's something I'm wondering about, actually," Elsa sputtered. "This whole adventure…after the mishap with naming the Shepherd, this has felt more right than ruling Arendelle ever did. So has journeying Misthaven. It feels like maybe I was meant for something else besides sitting on a throne and hearing about the troubles I can't easily solve. I almost wonder if…"

"If you wanna join our syndicate full-time?" Giovanni urged.

"But that would mean abandoning Anna," Elsa said suddenly. "And maybe it's just me being a coward and running away all over again!"

"I mean, there is something to say for picking out your own destiny," Giovanni mused. "It's more the sticking-Anna-with-it thing that might be off kilter. She's probably counting down the days till you get back and she can hand all the boring tax stuff back to you."

"Well, I know she's eager for me to return," Elsa admitted. "We had a…strained childhood, and our relationship is different from most siblings. We're close to say the least, and even now, I can't stop thinking about how she would love this whole country if she was here with us. I want to bring her here and show her around. But when it comes to being queen, she was actually pretty excited to be able to take over the throne for a bit. I wonder if maybe she would actually enjoy being crowned, or if the strain of it is already getting to her."

"Wanna talk pros and cons while we keep shopping?" Giovanni posed. "You can pick up gifts for Anna, I can pick up a little something-something special for the Composer back home…"

"Talking while shopping doesn't sound like a bad idea," Elsa said. "But are you actually shopping, or did you just take that armor without asking?"

"No one saw who I was," Giovanni muttered. "I had the helmet on."

"I'll pay for the rest of the day," Elsa laughed.

Lailah and Rose had many nights ago spent one very critical evening in Lastonbell, and they had chosen to climb to the height of the belfry in order to converse. They did so again here and now, the same spot where they'd overlooked the city last time.

"Lailah," Rose said, eyes fixed on the horizon. "I know you think there's no way it can possibly be. But that dragon we faced. It was blind. It was reading the wind."

"Rose, Dezel is gone," Lailah said softly.

"He's a seraph!" Rose insisted. "Seraphs turn into dragons if they're corrupted by malevolence! He 'died' surrounded by malevolence, so maybe that's what happened to him instead!"

"We saw him pass away before our eyes," Lailah said. "Rose…remember who it was that killed him. Are you trying to imagine that Dezel is somehow alive so you can justify aligning our mission with the people who have taken Symonne as their ward?"

"I don't care about that, okay?" Rose spat. "If I cared about that, I would've killed her in Camlann, and you know it! You saw me before your own eyes when I let Sorey just say his thing to her and we moved on to do something else! And I didn't even start to think Dezel could be alive until that dragon showed up! Are you seriously about to tell me it isn't a weird coincidence? It's a dragon! It's blind! It reads the wind!"

"Even if it were somehow Dezel," Lailah reminded her, "there's no coming back from being a dragon. Remember Eizen."

"I know, I know! I remember Eizen, dammit!" Rose kicked at the belfry stone. "But that was before we learned about all this weird other-world stuff! Sorey said at the very beginning that he was gonna find a way to save Eizen, and we didn't do it, but maybe we have the chance to save a different dragon with all this new magic. It's what Sorey would want, right?"

"I can't say for sure what Sorey would want," Lailah sighed. "He isn't here."

"I know. It sucks. I miss him."

"I miss him too. But at least more of us are reuniting than we initially expected."

"Yeah." Rose smiled. "It's pretty good to see Zaveid and Edna again." She looked down to where Zaveid patrolled the park with Velvet and Laphicet, then to where Yang and Harley were teaching Edna martial arts in the churchyard. "And I'm ready to get Mikleo back. Maybe one day…it can be all of us."

Lailah looked wistfully out over the town vista. There was apparently no changing Rose's mind on the idea that Dezel was the mysterious dragon that had downed the Iron Vulture. Lailah knew one way to cope with this sort of thing, and it was what she did best: change the subject. "Doesn't Lastonbell look gorgeous in the early evening? It's so peaceful. You couldn't imagine anything could ever go wrong here."

On cue, a series of explosions burst around town, causing minor but visible property damage. There was the sound of gunfire and swordplay.

"Yeah, before we brought the WHAM ARMY here," Rose grumbled.

"Oh…oh my." Lailah gaped. "Well, we knew what we were getting into."

"Wanna go down there and work some damage control on the stuff they broke?" Rose asked.

"I think that would be an incredibly good idea," Lailah agreed hurriedly.

Clutching bulging canvas bags of goodies, Roman, Snatcher, Foulfellow, Gideon, Tawna, Pinstripe, Karnage, Mad Dog, and Dump Truck reconvened in an underground aqueduct in order to hide from local law enforcement. "Nice job, boys!" Pinstripe congratulated.

"Look at all this loot!" Foulfellow was sifting the coins that people here called "gald" through his fingers, over and over again. Gideon's very eyes seemed to be reflecting the emblem of gald coins.

"Of course the operation was a success of raving!" Karnage boasted. "After all, it was led by me, Don Karnage, who only ever accomplishes the raving successes!"

"I don't know about you guys," Roman said, "but to me, the loot isn't even the important part. The important part was I got to blow shit up while surrounded by friends and loved ones, and isn't that just the most you can achieve out of life?"

"We've got to schedule something like this for the founders' circle," Snatcher mused.

"Or at least Neo," Roman added.

They both realized it at the same time, looking to one another in the shock of realization.

"MISS NEOPOLITAN."

"NEO."

...

Each villain currently living in Yzmatopia of course had a lavish bedroom that sparkled and shone with their favorite colors. Mera's was lined with full-length mirrors inset to the shimmering purple walls, and there was a door that led to a small outdoor balcony. It was here that Mera retired for the night when the pale moon became high in the star-studded sky.

"Ugh, what a day." She kicked off her heeled shoes, padding barefoot over to the bed. "Had to kill Indus and resurrect him, had to go to tea, had to cut all those onions in the billiards room so I could make stew…"

With a sigh, she flopped onto the mattress of her canopy bed face-first. The impact was a little too hard. "Ow."

Gently, she rolled over, pulling at the blankets. Then realized she was still in her street clothes. "Fuck…"

As Mera got up to move to the wardrobe where she kept her pajamas, she heard a knock on the door. "Who is it?" she asked.

"It's Prisma!" came the answer.

Mera couldn't help herself, smiling softly. "Yeah, I'm still decent. Come in."

"You locked me out."

"No, the door's definitely not locked – "

"Not that door, silly!"

Mera realized the voice was not coming from the hallway at all. "What the…" She scurried to the balcony door, throwing it open to see Prisma awaiting her. "How the hell did you get up here?"
"I got you a surprise," Prisma said with a twinkle in her eye. "Wanna see? I promise it won't hurt."

"…'Kay," Mera replied. "Whatcha got?"

Prisma leaned over the balcony, gesturing to something down below it. Then up rose a rippling length of fabric, blues and purples woven into an intricate pattern. "I got it on the Isle of Magic Carpets!" Prisma boasted. "I wanted to take a ride before I drained all the magic out of the carpets for my crystals."

"And…you wanted me to go with you…?" Mera realized.

"Well, not if you don't want to," Prisma said, "but you'd be missing out. I just thought, you know, it would just be the two of us, flying across the Isles on a soft carpet that means you don't have to walk…"

"Yeah, yeah!" Mera nodded. "Just let me get my shoes – actually, screw it. No shoes. Let's go."

Prisma waved the carpet over, helping Mera get up to settle atop it. "Ready?" Prisma asked.

"Actually," Mera admitted, "now that I'm sitting on the thing and defying gravity, this doesn't feel that safe – "

The carpet jolted up into the air at Prisma's whim. Mera gave a terrified scream, clinging to the Crystal Master in utter panic until she realized that neither of them was about to fall off.

"We can go back if you're too scared!" Prisma laughed.

"I'm not too scared," Mera grumbled, releasing Prisma. "Bring it on."

"Good," Prisma gasped, "because I have so much I want to show you!"

The carpet sailed to the Island of Beanstalks: a garden of gigantic green vines that climbed to the heavens. As it wove in between the overgrown plant life, Prisma was moved to sing: "I can show you the world! Shining, shimmering, splendid!"

She reached out, plucking a massive bean pod that was the size of her arm. "Tell me, Mera," she implored, "now when did you last let your heart decide?"

She passed Mera the bean pod. Mera accepted it, feeling strangely touched about being gifted a vegetable.

The carpet moved on into the rough-hewn towers of the Isle of Trolls. "I can open your eyes!" Prisma sang out. "Take you wonder by wonder! Over, sideways, and under on a magic carpet ride!"

The carpet bolted upward, higher and higher, and Mera gasped – not from fear or the sudden motion, but because from the carpet's position, she was offered a view of the entire archipelago of the Mystic Isles, every single island in the sky.

"A whole new world!" Prisma sang. "A new, fantastic point of view!"

The carpet began to dip up and down through the clouds. "No one to tell us no!" Prisma belted. "Or where to go!" The carpet sailed right past the enormous, pearly moon. "Or say that we're too fragile!"

That pushed Mera to the edge of her own feelings of freedom and lightness. "A whole new world!" she sang out. "A dazzling place I never knew!" She reached out, plucking a piece of cloud away, and it felt softer than anything she'd touched in her life. "But when I'm way up here, it's crystal clear…" She hugged the cloud and it didn't hurt a bit. "That now I'm in a whole new world with you."

The carpet swirled round and round a mountainous cloud as Prisma called out, "Now I'm in a whole new world with you!"

Fiery orange streaks shot through the sky: a flock of phoenixes with their feathers aflame in gold. The carpet joined their flight pattern as Mera gasped, "Unbelievable sights! Indescribable feeling!"

The carpet was reading Mera's intent now too, and so pulled a corresponding stunt every time Mera suggested "Soaring – tumbling – freewheeling!" Then the carpet calmed down, flying to the clear patch of starry skies over the Island of Pirates and Fairies. "Through an endless diamond sky," Mera gasped, eyes widening to try and take in all the cosmos at once.

The carpet dipped down toward the ocean waters of the Island of Pirates and Fairies, and Mera was again moved to sing, "A whole new world!"

"Don't you dare close your eyes!" Prisma laughed.

"A hundred thousand things to see!" Mera belted as the carpet wove between the elegant masts of the pirate ships moored at the harbor.

"Hold your breath," Prisma recommended. "It gets better!"

The carpet now passed over the Isle of Dancing Deserts, whose sands would show you whatever you wished to see. As Mera sang "I'm like a shooting star!", Prisma put out a hand, beckoning the sands to create a rather large statue of Azurine.

"I've come so far…" Mera knew what Prisma wanted. "I can't go back to where I used to be!" She extended her own hand, and the Azurine statue's head fell right off its neck, bouncing and rolling across the Dancing Deserts. A most hilarious sight for both of them.

"A whole new world!" Prisma sang as they crossed over to the Isle of Unicorns to overlook the crystal clusters she had created from stolen unicorn magic.

"Every turn a surprise!" Mera pointed down to a clearing among the crystals.

The unicorns – now just ordinary horses, their horns and wings gone to the crystals – spotted two of their tyrants flying toward them on a carpet. In utter terror, they took off in a stampede.

Prisma and Mera, of course, steered the carpet to chase them down, laughing at them all the way. "With new horizons to pursue!" Prisma cackled.

"Every moment red-letter!" Mera agreed.

They left the unicorns alone at last, moving on to the Isle of Satyrs and Nymphs. By now, Mera and Prisma were singing in harmony as they weaved through the trees and the marble statues of Olympians: "I'll chase them anywhere! There's time to spare! Let me share this whole new world with you!"

They crossed to the Isle of Mermaids and the bay it contained. The carpet descended, floating atop the sparkling waters like a raft. "A whole new world," Prisma sang softly.

"A whole new world," Mera echoed, quieter.

"That's where we'll be," Prisma sang.

"That's where we'll be," Mera responded.

"A thrilling chase…" It was almost a question.

"A wondrous place," Mera whispered.

They looked over into the bay, where the mermaids were all diving and scattering to get away from their evil overlords. More importantly, Prisma and Mera could see their own beautiful faces reflected in the waters.

"For you…and me," they harmonized, and the carpet kept cruising down the bay's surface.

The song was now over. Prisma cleared her throat. "There's a reason I wanted to show you all of this."

"I'm glad you did," Mera told her. "But not gonna lie: kind of afraid of that reason."

"Well, it's okay if you don't agree," Prisma said quickly. "It's just…I have so many feelings for you, Mera. I think you're beautiful and wonderful and everything an evil girl could ever want in a partner in crime! I just thought there was a little bit of a sparkle between us, so I wanted to ask if it was actually there. It's okay to say no. I wanted an excuse to ride the carpet anyway, so if it's just with a friend, then that's a good end too!"

Mera sighed. "I was really, really hoping you wouldn't ask that question. It's not as easy as me just saying no."

"Well, why not?"

"Because I feel things about you too," Mera said. "You're pretty and you're goofy and you make me smile a lot, okay? You're like a fantasy princess from a storybook in real life. But also, you make a good friend, and I think you could make a really good more-than-friend. I want to say yes. I want really, really badly to say yes."

"But something's in the way," Prisma realized.

"Yeah," Mera grumbled. "And you know what that something is."

"No, I don't…?"

"It's my body," Mera blurted. "It's my Epithet. As long as I'm Fragile with nothing to buffer it, having a relationship with anyone is gonna be difficult. You can't hug me too hard. You can't bump into me. Some days, you just won't be able to touch me. I want to kiss you right now, but that Vor fight took so much out of me that my lips HURT." Tears welled in her eyes. "We can't even fuck. I'm not even asexual and I can't fuck anyone, and I especially can't fuck you, I can't do anything even remotely rough that might make you happy, that's why I had all those stupid fetish drawings commissioned from Murdoch because I'm trying to find other ways to be satisfied without needing or wanting another whole person to touch me. I want you to be able to touch me! But you can't! Not now. Only on a good day, and only in ways that are so gentle, they don't amount to anything. I can't give you half of what you'll want physically. I can't even give me what I want physically! But I REFUSE to give up Fragile because I'm not going to have lived this many years with it if it's all for NOTHING!"

"Hmm." Prisma took in those words. "Are you mostly worried you'll disappoint me? Because I don't need much physically. I mean, I enjoy certain things that you should only do when the door's closed, but it's not like I NEED those certain things. We can find other ways to get around it! I have a few ideas, but they're not exactly polite to say out in the open. They don't involve touching, though. It's the same with kissing. If you can, that's wonderful, but if you can't, then I'd rather have you to talk about kissing with than not be with you at all. I can always hold my own hand and hug myself when I'm happy, but I can't be Mera Salamin. That's what you give me that I don't have. You helped me shatter Azurine for good! I needed you in order to do that! Crystals and broken mirrors complete each other, and that together is what took down Azurine once and for all! It just felt like fate!" She sighed. "But I understand if the problem is that you'd feel too frustrated with what you can't have."

"I…could get around it too," Mera mumbled. "I have for most of my life. It just doesn't seem fair to ask that of you."

"But I don't mind. You should only back down if it's going to be hard for you. Do you really think I didn't realize this catch going in? I wouldn't have taken you on this whole ride if being able to touch you mattered that much to me."

Mera sniffled. "Shit," she choked out. "Okay. If…if you're really serious, then yeah, I wanna try this. God. No one's ever…no one's EVER. I owe you a kiss when my face feels better. I promise I can at least manage that."

"No hurry."

"And maybe one day I'll find my buffer. I can keep Fragile, but we can touch too."

"No hurry there either."

Mera wiped at her eyes. "You're way too good for me."

"No, I'm really not. Besides…" Prisma winked. "Neither of us is 'good.'"

"Damn straight." Mera laughed. "Hey. Um. This might be super dumb, but if you…if you close your eyes…"

Prisma did so, and nodded.

"And, like…hold up two of your fingers so they're pressed together…"

"I think I see where this is go-iiiing!" Prisma held up her right index and middle finger. "Can you do yours at the same time, or will that hurt?"

"No, I…I know how to touch myself without it hurting," Mera said. "How about on three? One-two-three and then we do the kissy thing."

Prisma nodded.

"One…two…three." Mera shut her eyes. "I really like you."

Each woman pressed two fingers to her lips, creating another pair of lips from her own hand. Each kissing herself, but picturing the other, knowing the other was nearby.

It felt like the real thing. No, in its own way, it was the real thing.

...

Of course, the problem with being up all night tending to a nightmare-induced panic attack and spending the morning having a threesome instead of catching up on missed sleep is that it leaves the three involved very lethargic. And so as Vexen's team headed out to Zanarkand, Vexen himself was displeased to see all three of his cyborgs pretty much dead on their feet.

"What's the matter with you?" he barked. "We only JUST set out from our rest at the agency! How can you be tired!"

Vincent and Albert both looked to Victor with bleary eyes, hoping he would give a good explanation. Victor just smiled dreamily; "We had personal things to deal with. You probably wouldn't understand."

"Try me," Vexen said dryly.

"Wait – nonono – " Deymos lightly took Vexen's arm to tug him away. "I know why they were up all night," he chuckled in a whisper, "and you don't wanna hear the details. But all my sticking them in a room with one bed finally paid off!"

Vexen got it. "Oh, for the love of – we can't afford to be held up on our mission by that sort of thing!"

"Doesn't explain the eel violence though," Deymos mused.

For the fifth time that morning, Vincent had tried to grab Xerxes and snap his spine, only for Xerxes to flit and hide behind Agnus.

"Xerxes sorry!" the eel protested. "Xerxes saw food! Xerxes weak!"

Albert just shook his head. "Don't expect any more chocolate from me. Or for me to stop the others from killing you."

"NO CHOCOLATE?" Xerxes yelled in response.

"Um, hello?" Deymos raised his hand. "I have a problem with you guys killing him!"

"He deserves it," Victor and Vincent muttered as one.

Xerxes took that as an indication that Deymos was his new safe space and acted accordingly, crashing into Deymos until Deymos was carrying Xerxes in the crook of one arm.

"Excuse me?" Tsumugi called out. "What are all these lights in the air?"

They'd entered a rocky area with a sky that was bathed in aurora borealis. All around, there were shimmers in the sky, like fireflies but more brilliant and more fleeting.

"Hmmmm…is powerful cosmic presence," skekSil gasped. "Something significant happened here."

"I could've told you that," Simon grumbled. "It's like fantasy aesthetic-building 101."

"They say the lights are the souls of the Zanarkandians who perished," Arius explained. "They died so Radiant Garden would flourish. A worthy sacrifice."

"F-fascinating!" Agnus gasped. "I m-must take notes…" He started trying to scrawl on a pad while walking, which wasn't the most efficient system.

They continued down a rocky path, a broken road, until they were within the city limits of Zanarkand itself. The ruins of immense skyscrapers towered over them.

"Not that I don't already know from being genre-savvy," Simon said, "but for the sake of the others, you should do the exposition of why it's like this."

"Well, Radiant Garden won the war between the two empires," Vexen replied. "From there, civilization here simply could not survive. The only choices would be to persist in this failing economy or to find somewhere else to live. The result of course was a diaspora."

"Hmm…perhaps civilization could not survive," skekSil noticed, "but something has."

He looked off an overpass. The others all gave a cursory glance. It was Vexen who stopped dead in his tracks, blood running cold.

Through the cracks in the street, there had bloomed plants, turning a highway into a field of spiky orange flowers. That in and of itself was no shock, but the specific flower was what gave Vexen pause. He recognized them as birds of paradise, hundreds of them blowing in the light wind.

"It can't be," he gasped. "Why strelitzias?"

Victor was able to telescope an arm out long enough to pluck a pair of them from a nearby wall where they'd bloomed. He presented one each to Vincent and Albert. "Paris' mistake was thinking he had only one choice," Victor said with a wink. Then: "I hope that came across as making sense…I'm afraid I am still quite tired."

"Geez, all night?" Deymos groaned.

The recipients looked fondly to their flowers. Albert tucked his behind an ear; Vincent looped a stem through a buttonhole on his jacket.

"Why strelitzias?" Vexen repeated, staring blankly at the orange blooms. "Of all things…how?"

"You have issues with these orange things," Deymos realized.

"That's putting it lightly," Vexen snorted. "They are a reminder of an unfinished experiment. I could perhaps take this as a clue as to what became of it – if not for the fact that this many strelitzias would have taken far more than a single decade to grow. No, it has to be coincidence, but how?"

"What happened?" Deymos asked.

"There was – " Vexen shook his head. "No. It doesn't matter. It's over and done. She's got to be dead and gone. Leave it in the past where it belongs."

He turned on a heel and stormed back down the overpass.

"I wonder what has him so sentimental about these," Tsumugi mused. "You don't think they're reminiscent of an old flame, do you?"

"Maybe," Deymos muttered, "but not directly. It had something to do with Ansem, probably, but these plants don't GO with him." He shrugged. "Won't know unless the Vexster opens up about it."

"In other words, we'll never know," Simon sighed.

"Let us proceed," skekSil suggested. "We will need guide, yes?"

Arius summoned the Helpsie back. Once the small critter was in hand, he gasped, "Great! You guys made it to Zanarkand! Okay. This next part's easy. You just gotta go down the streets in the order I say. And DON'T RUN."

Eventually, the party was guided to the temple at Zanarkand's heart. Inside, a small room inset with square tiles greeted them.

"Okay," the Helpsie explained, "so this is a puzzle. See those tiles that have the glowing stones? You want to use those to activate the floor so it draws a pattern. Oh, and you need the pattern! One of you step on that tile that sticks out over there."

One tile did not fit within the perfect grid. Deymos tapped on it with his foot. Across the room, what appeared to be a computer screen flickered to life, displaying a pattern made up of multicolored four-tile designs.

"That's pretty high-tech for – " Deymos began.

He was cut off when Tsumugi screeched "IT'S TETRIS!"

"It's not Tetris," Vexen sighed.

"They do look like Tetris pieces," Deymos observed.

"Enough of this!" Arius barked. "Tell me how to create this pattern!"

The Helpsie walked him through a simple dance that lit up the floor with color. Once the patterns matched, six pedestals emerged from the walls.

"So the next part's trickier," the Helpsie said. "You need to get two spheres into two of these podiums. But the way you get the spheres is by figuring out the puzzle in the next room, and you have to activate the puzzle diagram from the other four podiums."

"Are you saying the next room is more of this?" Vexen sighed.

The next room was, in fact, more of that. A larger grid, a bigger computer screen, and a hole in the middle of the floor surrounded by six carved sigils.

"All right," Vexen groaned once they'd loaded up the first design. "Let's just get this over with."

"I got this!" Simon ran out to start stomping tiles.

"SIMON!" Vexen barked. "Stop that at once! All I'll need is a moment to survey the landscape and I will have the EXACT solution mapped to a – "

"You'll want the tenth t-t-tile forward and two to the l-left," Agnus said.

"AGNUS!" Vexen snapped. "IS THIS YOUR PUZZLE OR MINE?"

Simon had lit up the next shape. "All r-right," Agnus said. "N-now s-seven forward and five r-right – "

"No, no, no, Angelo has it all wrong!" skekSil barked. "Is SIX forward, SIX right!"

"I did not ask you to solve this puzzle, skekSil," Vexen said flatly.

"Is no one gonna ask the Summon whose entire purpose in life is to give directions that solve things?" the Helpsie groaned.

"I will follow your direction," Arius told him.

"Okay," the Helpsie began. "So start from the opposite direction. Go five straight forward – "

Arius did. It was wrong and reset the whole board.

"ARIUS!" Simon yelled. "WHAT WAS THAT FOR?"

"YOU LIIIIEEEEEED TO MEEEEEEE!" Arius screeched, dangling the Helpsie over the central pit by one antenna.

"Hey hey HEY it was an honest mistake!" the Helpsie protested. "I promise it won't happen again!"

Arius reeled him in. "One more chance."

"Three tiles left," the Helpsie said.

That was wrong too. Arius drew back to pitch the Helpsie across the room, only for Tsumugi to swoop in with a shriek of "DON'T DESTROY OUR ADORABLE MASCOT!".

She trotted back to the screen with the Summon in her arms. "You know, I can't help but think of that catchy tune that plays during Tetris."

"It isn't TETRIS!" Vexen and Agnus yelled at the same time.

"No, no, Apex Captain!" skekSil barked. "Twelve tiles back the way you came!"

"Da, da-da-da, da-da-da, da-da-da, da-da-da, da-da-da-da-da-da!" Tsumugi sang. "Da-da-da, da-da-da da-da-da, da-da-da da-da-da-da-da-da!"

"Hey, yeah I love that tune!" Deymos called up his sitar. "All you gotta do is add a harmony like this!" He started plucking a complementary tune to enhance the Tetris theme.

After the first puzzle was finally solved, the cyborgs took over the second one, Vincent and Albert each running up half the grid to light up their tiles. With their precise leaping and tapping, they seemed to be executing two halves of a dance.

"I don't see why you needed to help," Vincent barked – though now everyone knew he was just playing. "I can handle this on my own, thank you very much."

"Yes, but I'm faster," Albert told him. "And I – oh."

He'd stepped on an incorrect tile and reset everything.

"You have to forgive me," Albert said sheepishly. "We're all very tired, you know."

"I hate that I like you," Vincent sighed.

"I like acting the part of hating you," Albert replied with a wink.

Victor, in the meantime, had fallen asleep sitting against the computer wall. Vexen kicked him in the ribs to get him to stop snoring.

Somehow, between the bickering and missteps and singing, they managed to finally complete all four puzzles, obtain the crystal spheres, and turn on the six sigils on the floor. An elevator platform generated over the pit.

"Hmm…wrong," Arius mused.

"What about it is wr-wrong?" Agnus asked.

"Wrong," Arius repeated. "There is a monster that watches over Zanarkand. It appears when the Cloister of Trials is passed, which we have just done."

"The Spectral Keeper?" the Helpsie sputtered. "No, that's just – that's a misconception! It's a bedtime story! There's no Spectral Keeper!"

"How did you know what it was called?" Simon asked in suspicion.

"Because he's heard the story from other people on this world and is used to people asking him about the Spectral Keeper?" Tsumugi suggested.

"DEFINITELY THAT ONE!" the Helpsie screeched.

"We have no more time to waste!" Vexen stormed onto the elevator platform. "Follow!"

So they all did, riding down and down and down until they reached the bottom level. There was a dais in the floor, the type that would be connected to an Aeon – but, like at Baaj, it was empty.

"Great," Deymos groaned. "Just great! We struck out on both Aeons after the whole road trip!"

"Hang on, hang on!" the Helpsie sputtered. "This isn't where you get the Final Aeon. You have to go into the next room to get the Final Aeon! And then up the stairs, and there's a special altar. Trust me!"

"I'm starting to not," Deymos replied.

"Well, I'm not leaving here empty-handed." Vexen was already storming through the arched doorway into the next chamber.

"Hey!" Deymos ran after him. "It still could be a trap!"

Xerxes shook his head. "Vexen using Roman logic."

The party proceeded. The next chamber was an ornate, palatial hall bearing a carpeted stairway that led to the next door. Beyond that door was a room that didn't seem as though it could possibly exist here underground: a precipice overlooking a void studded with stars. The cliff bore a glowing sigil circle of many colors.

"That's it right there," the Helpsie said. "Arius, you just get down on your knees there and ask for the Final Aeon."

"I mean, it looks like enough glitz and glamour to be for a Final Aeon," Tsumugi mused. "Definitely an anime final-boss setting. Unless it's actually for a penultimate boss…"

"I would like to have NO boss fights here, please," Deymos groaned.

"This had better be what you say," Arius warned the Helpsie in a low growl.

"I wouldn't lie to you about this." The Helpsie's tone was the calmest anyone had heard it. "This is what I'm meant to do. Help out."

"D-do we trust this?" Agnus wondered.

"We sure hiked all the way up here trusting it," Simon reminded everyone. "Turning back now would just be stupid!"

Arius set the Helpsie on the ground, then walked reverently to the sigil circle, kneeling and bowing his head. "O great Final Aeon," he muttered, "I beseech thee. Come to your new master."

"Are those the actual legit Summoner words?" Deymos asked Vexen.

"He did use them to collect Aeons from the other temples before they were stripped away upon his exile," Vexen muttered.

There was a bright shimmer of color in the air. Little rainbow sparkles, all converging in front of the sigil circle. Then they congealed, forming an orb of light, and then there was a brilliant glow –

When it subsided, there was before Arius a most peculiar creature. It looked like just a pink orb, shorter than Arius' knee, with wide round eyes that took up half its face. It bore a goofy smile that showed off tiny fangs. Upon its head was a jester's hat with two cones, red and blue, a puffball sewn to each – and this hat was just about as big as the creature itself. Tied underneath its orb body was a red bow tie, and the orb went right into feet without any leg whatsoever, those feet encased in brown leather shoes. Those shoes were currently very active, as the creature was bouncing happily from one foot to the other.

"Hi!" he greeted. "I'm the Final Aeon!"

There was a silence in the room. Then Arius simply said, "No. You are not."

"It WAS a trick!" Vexen yelled. "And not even with the common decency to be a trap. This was a PRANK."

"I dunno…" Deymos chuckled. "I think it's pretty funny."

"No, I'm serious!" the creature insisted. "I'm the one you've been looking for. I have powers the likes of which you won't even believe!" To punctuate his point, showers of rainbow sparks exploded around him, raining like fireworks.

"And what, pray tell, is your name?" Vexen asked.

"My name?" the creature replied. "Why, I'm Marx."

"That is in no way the name of the Final Aeon," Vexen grumbled.

"Yep, we were duped," Deymos sighed.

"Trust me," Marx urged. "I can help you out with whatever you want."

Arius rose. "This is a FARCE!" he pointed down to Marx. "I will not ally with the likes of you! You are no Aeon! You are a lesser Summon that has wormed its way into this temple and pretended to be an Aeon!"

"You don't know that," Marx argued playfully.

"This mission is over," Vexen grumbled. "And now we've wasted FAR too much time and energy."

"Wait!" Marx protested. "This isn't a prank. I promise."

"It's way too late for that," Simon huffed.

"No," Marx said, his smile widening. "It's really not a prank. I was hoping you guys would play with me and let me show off what I could do. But…since you don't want to…I guess we have to go to the backup plan."

Vexen's blood ran cold. "The backup plan? WE?"

Suddenly he felt Deymos' hand tapping on his shoulder rapidly. "Vex. VEX. This was not a prank, repeat, NOT A PRANK!"

The Helpsie was standing between them and the door. Which, given his earlier statement about not being able to move without assistance, shouldn't have been possible.

"Sorry, guys," the Helpsie said. "Nothing personal. But if you don't wanna be our pals, well, you gotta help us out some other way, and I'm hungry."

Marx's high-pitched giggle filled the air as a burly arm erupted out of the Helpsie, planting on the ground. Then a second arm, and the Helpsie's triangular body was expanding, a fang-filled mouth splitting open.

"I DISMISS YOU!" Arius yelled.

"It doesn't work that way," the Helpsie replied, his voice becoming a low growl. "You can let me out. But once I decide to do this, you can't send me back!" He now stood at his full form, taller than any of those who'd brought him here, muscle-bound with slavering jaws.

Deymos and Vexen summoned sitar and shield. Arius pointed the Arcana Bastone while Agnus became encased in his angelic exoskeleton. Victor, Vincent, and Albert lined up, readying for a fight. SkekSil drew both swords while Simon hoisted a grappling hook. Tsumugi rippled through a few different forms before settling on Rosso the Crimson.

"HEEHEEHEEEEE!" Marx squealed. "Don't forget about ME!"

The others wouldn't have even bothered to turn and look but for the bright flash of rainbow light behind them. By the time they'd all refocused their attentions, Marx had changed entirely, now about the size of the Helpsie, with bugging eyes and a slick tongue. Wings of bone ripped their way out of his body, filling themselves with hexagonal feathers of multicolored light.

"I haven't had new toys to play with in so long!" Marx cackled.

"Forget your toys!" the Helpsie barked. "I'm HUNGRY!"

However, as the scene unfolded, there was one whose temper was rising faster than his fear. For there are certain things that fuel the flames of anger. Those things include humiliation before your loved ones, suffering mental breakdowns, losing sleep, not being allowed sleep to make up for it, and having your façade broken.

By the time the Helpsie and Marx assumed their final forms, Vincent had had just about enough of everything.

With a wordless roar, he pounced on the Helpsie, sparking cords erupting from his joints. Then, before anyone knew it, he had picked up the Helpsie by one burly arm and was using it to swing and batter the Helpsie around like a dog with a rope toy.

The Helpsie screeched in terror as he was slammed into the ground over and over again, then spun around in the air, then slammed on a completely different part of the ground. Vincent's teammates were awestruck, and frankly, so was Marx.

"…This might be the wrong crowd," Marx squeaked. "Even for me!"

Arius turned to look him dead in his bulging eyes. "You don't want to find out what the REST of us are capable of," he snarled. "Trust me."

"STOP! STOP! STOP!" the Helpsie screamed as his collisions pounded out a definite rhythm akin to an adrenaline-overdosed heartbeat. "I CAVE! I GIVE IN! PLEASE!"

Deymos finally calmed down, sighing as he turned to Marx. "Look," he said. "This might not be the smartest idea on the block, but we're getting desperate here. You and your pal, you were looking for people to either buy into your Aeon schtick or be your dinner, right?"

"Helpsie's dinner," Marx clarified. "I just want toys to break."

"So what were you gonna do if we accepted you as the Aeon?" Deymos asked.

"Why, use it as a springboard to conquer this world, of course!" Marx chuckled.

"So we don't have the time or resources for that right now," Deymos said, "but there is definitely world-conquering on our to-do list. I'm guessing you assumed we were heroic do-gooder types. Nah, we're here on an epic kidnapping, and we're throwing in a lot of crime for good measure. If you come back to the house, you'll LOVE our friends."

"Why didn't you lead with that?" Marx asked.

"Maybe because you were busy trying to be a BALD-FACED LIAR ABOUT THE AEON THING?" Deymos accused.

Marx was still staring at Vincent's beatdown of the Helpsie. The man was now kicking the Summon around like a soccer ball. "Well, if you really are a bunch of twisted black hearts, then we'd be happy to join you instead!"

"You can't be serious," Vexen groaned.

"Oh, I'm serious," Deymos said. "But first, Marxie has to hand over his gem to the Summoner."

There was a glitter in the sky like a falling star. A Summon Gem planted into the dirt by Arius' feet. It was circular, split down the middle, half red and half blue; white polka dots peppered it. "There," Marx said. "Are you happy now?"

Arius pocketed it immediately. "Do you in fact have worthy powers?" he asked.

"You didn't even let me show them off," Marx grumbled. "Watch this!"

He split completely apart at the middle, both halves of his body pulling to either side. A black hole generated between them, whirling and starting to pull in everything around it.

Arius pointed the Arcana Bastone at it. "Do not MAKE me summon the Despair Embodied."

Marx quickly sealed himself back up. "I don't even wanna know what that is. Your attack businessman is bad enough."

"Lawyer, actually," Victor corrected.

"IF I PROMISE TO ACTUALLY HELP YOU THIS TIME," the Helpsie screeched, "AND I ASK YOU GUYS TO HELP FEED ME INSTEAD OF ME EATING YOU, WILL YOU STOP BEATING ME UP? PLEASE PLEASE PLEEEAAAASE!"

"Eh…" Deymos thought it over. "What do we think? Keep in mind, now, we did come here to get something powerful to summon, and now we technically do have something powerful to summon."

"Of course no – " Vexen stopped. Blinked. "Why did you have to point THAT out?"

"Because I knew you'd conveniently ignore it if I didn't," Deymos said.

"This is the cl-closest thing we have to a F-Final Aeon," Agnus pointed out. "C-combine it with the S-s-summons that Arius already p-possesses, and we m-may have our v-victory in our hands!"

"I still don't see why the Despair Embodied was not good enough for you," Arius huffed. "I refuse to hold back in what I can summon. It or even Noctpteran would be able to compensate for whatever this Marx leaves to be desired."

"AND WHAT ABOUT ME?" the Helpsie yelled; Vincent was still going. "I KNOW THINGS! I CAN ACTUALLY HELP SO LONG AS I GET SOMETHING OUT OF IT! PROMISE!"

"I mean, that one I'd treat more like a trickster Fae type," Deymos said. "And believe me, I have my experiences with those. But I guess so long as it doesn't go back on that, we can give it a test run. And if it does go back, we'll just let Vincent eat it!"

"AND I DO EAT FLESH RAW," Vincent asserted. "Come to think of it, I HAVEN'T HAD ANY PROPER RAW FOOD SINCE I WAS RESUSCITATED."

"NO NO NO NOOOOOO!" the Helpsie screamed.

"Yeah, I think we're in a real good position to bargain here," Deymos said.

Vexen shook his head. "I HATE to admit that there is actually a solution to our Nergal problem here. Vincent, let the Summon go."

"MAKE ME!" Vincent yelled.

"YOU'RE REALLY EMBARRASSING YOURSELF!" Albert called out. "I WOULD NEVER LOOK AS SILLY AS YOU DO!"

Vincent gave the Helpsie one final hurl into the door archway. There, the Helpsie collapsed back into its smaller form, shivering violently.

"Oh, our poor mascot!" Tsumugi rushed to scoop him up and cuddle him.

"I thought Xerxes mascot?" Xerxes ventured.

"We can have two cute mascots," Tsumugi replied.

"…'Cute'?" Simon repeated.

"Deal is struck," skekSil said. "False Aeon and Summon will help WHAM ARMY, and WHAM ARMY will help in return. Betrayal will be met with swift execution."

"I think we finally have our team together for Operation Xion!" Deymos crowed.

"And all it took was a long road trip, a near-death experience, and several games of floor Tetris!" Tsumugi cheered.

"Now, if we're on the slide down to victory," Victor yawned, "may we arrange a rest stop to catch up on our sleep on the way back?"

"For the last time – " Vexen growled.

Deymos yawned. "Yeah, I could nap."

"You too?" Vexen said sardonically. "You actually slept."

"Is it ever enough sleep for me?" Deymos asked. "And here's the thing. You must be mentally exhausted from all these shenanigans. Don't you want a few hours to just lie down and not be bothered?"

Vexen stared at him a while before finally growling a "You. Win."