Gantlos held the brim of his hat to keep it from blowing off in the salty night wind as they followed Gregory's trail to an old, abandoned lighthouse out on the edge of the city. The tarmac under them was marred with a million spiderweb cracks, water bubbling up from cracked pipes.

'Wow…' Anagan muttered. 'I…I don't think I've ever seen power this wild.'

Ogron and Gantlos exchanged a glance. They had, spilling from Gantlos himself. He'd got it under control by the time they met Anagan, but they both knew how dangerous this kind of power could be.

'We may have our work cut out for us…' Ogron muttered, sidestepping a new stream pouring down the street.

'We have plenty of-' Gantlos stopped short, and Ogron almost walked into his back.

'Gantlos? What is it?' he asked nervously, and Gantlos held up a hand. He needed quiet, needed to focus. Energy drifted across the abandoned docks. Sweet fire smoke…summer grass…sharp electricity…

'Dammit.' They weren't the only ones on the trail. 'The Winx.'

Ogron visibly paled. 'Oh no…' His overconfidence from their first battles with the young fairies had vanished, beaten out of him by his own hand, and now he just looked petrified. Not of the Winx, but of what would befall him if they bested him.

'Hey…' Gantlos took Ogron's hand, pulling him out of his panic. 'We don't have to win, we just have to get Gregory to come to us. Tell him we can help, he'll follow us.'

'How?' Anagan chipped in. 'We can hardly announce our location to the Winx, can we?'

'…I have an idea…' Ogron mused aloud. 'I can implant our hideout's location in his mind. He'll know where to find us.'

'And if he tells the Winx?' Anagan asked.

'We won't do it if it seems like there's a chance of that happening,' Ogron said decisively. 'Now, let's go. We won't fail this time.' He seemed together, but Gantlos's hearing was good enough to hear him mutter 'We don't have a choice' as he walked away.

Shouting echoed across the docks as the wizards walked towards the towering, crumbling structure of the abandoned lighthouse, still guiding lost souls towards salvation even as it fell away to pebbles under time's cruel ministrations.

'Sounds like we don't have to be the ones to start the fight…' Ogron murmured. Gregory was yelling, the ground shaking with the force of his shouts. Gantlos had a horrible feeling that the Winx had found him before he'd cooled off. From personal experience, he knew that, after a magical meltdown of the calibre Gregory had just experienced, poking the bear was almost inevitable with any human contact at all, other than the quietest, most understanding company. And the bear had been poked. And now it sounded set to relieve people of a few limbs.

'Light?! Dark?! You're throwing this at me like I know what that means!'

'Gregory, Bloom knows what she's talking about…you should listen to her.'

'Really, Cindy?! Because all I'm getting from Bloom is that she opened some kind of reverse switch on a giant fairy cage, regaled me with some magic, and now she's telling me there's something wrong with the thing I didn't even want in the first place!'

'There's nothing wrong, per se…' Bloom mumbled. As Gantlos peeked around the lighthouse, he could see Gregory standing defensively by the water, his hair floating around him in a cloud of fury, while Cindy and Bloom tried to talk him down.

'But…Gregory…be reasonable…' Bloom tried, gesturing to him. 'This…you have to see that this isn't good…'

'I know it's not good! I didn't want this! You were the ones that jumped for joy, and told me to train with Gandalf!' Gregory's breaths came in furious, raking gasps as he tried to inhale through the fury feeding his magic. 'You made me feel I had to train, like I had something great, then you turned around and agreed that I need to 'change my alignment'! I don't even know what that means!'

'Dark magic comes from negative emotions…' Bloom tried to explain. 'Anger…heartache…chaos… Light magic comes from positive emotions. As a wizard, you can theoretically channel both; it should be no trouble to start practising with positive emotions instead.'

Gregory shook his head, green fire falling from his hair. 'No! You don't tell me what I can or can't feel. I'm angry, and this is what summons my magic.'

'Gregory…' Cindy stepped closer. 'Gregory, I get that you're mad, but…Bloom has a point.'

'And you have no autonomy since you became her little pupil!' Gregory snapped. 'Are you seriously agreeing with her?! What, I just slap on a smile and suddenly my magic calms down? Your friends are patronising, and you're taking their side!'

'Gregory, what's got into you? This isn't like you! Just calm down!' But he couldn't. That was the thing. Cindy couldn't have learned about magic more than a few months ago, while Bloom clearly lived in a black and white fairy world. Neither of them knew that every small spark of anger was magnified tenfold right now, and their attempts to talk him down were just fuelling the fire.

'I can't!' Gregory shouted, the earth shaking under his feet. 'All of you, just leave me alone! Please!'

'Look, just stop, come back to the loft, and we can fix-'

'I think he told you to leave him alone.'

Bloom whipped around as Ogron's voice rang out, cutting through the tension. Her fists clenched as the wizards stepped out into the moonlight, while Gregory visibly relaxed at the return of the wizard that had shown him how to get control.

'You three!' Bloom snarled, her hair crackling with furious flames. 'Crawled out of your frozen hole?'

'Well, you don't sound very happy to see us…' Ogron teased, though his voice lacked the playfully condescending tone it used to hold when exchanging remarks in battle before.

'What, happy to see a shadow's lapdogs?' Bloom remarked sarcastically, the tarmac glistening under her feet as she blazed with defensive fury. 'Nah, not so much. Winx Believix!'

As the Winx transformed in a burst of bright energy, Ogron recoiled as though Bloom's remark had been a physical blow, slapping him across the face with the knowledge that not only was he a servant, but his enemies knew it. The Winx had used their Tracix and seen everything from the night they'd glamour the fake club, which meant they'd seen Ogron get down on his knees and say his place was at Neruman's feet.

'So, we're doing this again?' Stella asked, taking to the skies, her fairy form just as excessively bright and gaudy as before. 'Wow, same old, same old, am I right?'

Ogron growled quietly, his hands crackling with magical energy, but Gantlos caught his wrist.

'Don't start a fight. Trust me, if you don't want Gregory to level this place, we need to stay calm and be the better option for him.'

Ogron looked doubtful, but he nodded slowly, trusting that Gantlos knew better when it came to this kind of magic, managing to stay quiet as Stella continued. 'You're even stuck in those same gaudy outfits. Don't you know black is out?' She shot Flora a smirk. 'Green is much trendier. Right, Flora?'

'Absolutely, Stella. Winter Rose!'

Gantlos struggled, incensed as Flora bound them in thorny vines. With a shuddering breath, he managed to keep calm, focused on their goal. On keeping Ogron from punishment.

'We didn't come to fight!' he snapped, wincing as thorns scratched across his skin.

'Psh. Yeah right,' Stella snarked. 'What, you drop by for fashion advice? Good call if you did, since you look like you were attacked by a Black Veil Brides concert. But somehow I doubt that.'

'You break out of Omega and come running right into our custody?' Bloom asked sceptically. 'Interesting plan you got there, Ogron.'

'It's not-!' Ogron had to grit his teeth to stop himself, and Gantlos quickly took the lead as Ogron breathed slowly, trying to keep calm. The last time any information about Neruman had been given to the Winx, albeit by accident, and mostly Neruman's fault in the first place, Ogron had spent the next two days lying in bed, groaning and experiencing a strong gratitude for Anagan procuring some painkillers. Snapping about Neruman making all the plans now was probably not a smart idea.

'We didn't come to talk to you,' Gantlos snapped, his frustrations at being bound like an animal bubbling over in his tone.

'So you just felt like admiring the beautiful evening at an abandoned lighthouse?' Musa asked sarcastically. 'That sounds believable. And we'll just swallow that hook, line and sinker, because when has believing you snakes ever come back to bite us? Oh, wait!'

'We're not here for you, we're here for him,' Gantlos gritted out, pointing to Gregory and earning himself a few thorn-scratches for his trouble.

Gregory's eyes widened, while Cindy stepped protectively in front of her boyfriend.

'No way!' snapped the young fairy, her eyes sparking with anger. 'I don't know what you three want, but I know who you are and what you've done, and if you so much as think about hurting Gregory, you'll pay for it, I swear!'

'Trust me, we don't want to hurt him,' Anagan said calmly, his placatory tone at odds with the seven fairies aiming attacks at him in case he did so much as twitch. 'We want to help him.'

Bloom scoffed, embers tumbling from her hair as she folded her arms. 'Yeah, right. Help him what, give you all his magic? Give me a-'

'Help me how?'

All eyes shot to the youth slipping past his fairy shield, his flickering eyes alit with tentative curiosity.

'Gregory…maybe-'

Bloom cut across Cindy's concern with a sharp, authoritative command. 'Gregory, stay back! You have no idea how dangerous they are!'

'Well I also have no idea how dangerous I am, so we've got things in common.' Gregory brushed past Bloom, approaching the wizards, close enough to reach out and touch their bindings if he so desired. He wasn't scared…interesting.

'Help me how?' he repeated, ignoring Bloom trying to usher him back.

'You need control, a way to get your magic in check without destroying half the city,' Gantlos explained calmly. His tone alone was enough to make Gregory step further from the Winx and their sharp, jarring panic and commands, and ease nearer to the only person to have truly aided him today.

'…And…you can do that?' The hope was audible, and Gantlos nodded.

'Yes. We can.'

'That's enough!' Bloom snarled, grabbing Gregory and pulling him back. 'Gregory, I know what they're saying sounds tempting, but they are liars! They'll stab you in the back as soon as they get what they want, or now I suppose what their new puppetmaster wants.'

Gantlos felt Ogron tremble slightly beside him; whether with rage or distress, he wasn't sure.

'I don't know how many times I need to say this…' Gregory breathed through clenched teeth, 'but don't tell me what to do. You might be in charge of your little clique, but, last I checked, you weren't a cop, so you don't tell me who I do or don't talk to.'

'Hm.' Ogron laughed softly at seeing a kid chew Bloom out, the fire-haired fairy brought almost as low before her friends as her remarks had brought him. 'Look at that, Bloom. Someone who isn't eager to fall at your feet and erect your shrine. How novel.'

Bloom's eyes blazed, and she whipped around, her hair lighting up the evening with ire. 'That's enough! I don't know what you three want with Gregory, how the hell you got out of Omega in the first place, or why you're working for the Fortress of Light's resident psychopath, but you can tell me all that on the ship back to Omega! Right now, all I wanna know, is where you hid Morgana's necklace. And trust me, things will go so much easier for you if you just tell me now.'

'If we tell you the one thing you actually need from us?' Ogron rolled his eyes. 'Please. Giving up our best bargaining chip would be a fool's move. Something you'd do.'

Bloom seemed to be visibly reminding herself that it would be utterly unconscionable to set Flora's binding vines on fire. 'Just. Tell. Us. Morgana is sick because of you.'

'And you think I care? Believe me, Bloom, I have bigger concerns than if Morgana has a cold!'

Tired frost met determined sapphire, both lighting up with anger. Ogron's was dimmed by weeks of abuse and degradation, but it refused to back down for a teenager in a tutu skirt.

'Well, alright then,' Stella remarked, inspecting her nails. 'Guess that means you three are just gonna be our prisoners for a while. Maybe a little time on ice will help clear up this dynamic we have here.'

Despite their attempts to stay calm, all three wizards visibly paled at the suggestion of Omega.

'Do we start a fight now?' Ogron hissed to Gantlos, his voice shaking. 'Because otherwise your 'plan' is starting to sound a lot like getting arrested!'

'I don't-'

'What do you mean?' Gregory, reminding everyone that he was there and relevant, spoke up, his eyes narrowing at the visible fear Stella's words had instilled.

'We're putting them back in the Omega Dimension,' Tecna said matter-of-factly. 'They'll be frozen in ice for eternity, where they can never hurt anyone again.'

Gregory just stared at her for a second. '…Are you kidding? That sounds horrible! Why would you do that?! Do you people not have, like, I dunno, a normal prison?! With walls 'n stuff?!'

'Gregory, stay out of this,' Bloom warned. 'You're getting mixed up in things you don't understand.'

'Only because none of you people will explain anything other than 'dark magic baaaaaad'!' Gregory snapped. 'And you've tied up and threatened the only person to actually help me rather than chastise me and criticise me!'

Everyone glanced to the wizards in confusion, wondering what on Earth about their sudden arrival could possibly be perceived as helpful, and Gantlos hid a smile. They were tied up and being threatened with Omega, but, somehow, this was going better than he'd expected.

'You can really help me?' Gregory asked, glancing to Gantlos.

'Yes. When we're not being skewered with thorns…'

The Winx's mouths dropped open as Gregory flung a hand out, the vines lighting up with intoxicatingly wild power, before falling away as ash.

'Gregory, no!' Cindy shouted, but it was too late. The Winx leapt into battle stances, but Gantlos just nodded to Gregory.

'Thanks. That was getting painful.'

'No problem. You said you'd help me, so tell me how.' The kid got straight to the point. Gantlos had to respect that.

Gantlos stepped back slightly as Ogron strode up to the young mage, brushing his fingers across his forehead. They glowed with a soft white light that slipped below the boy's skin, before vanishing to leave Gregory staring at Ogron like he might be a bit unhinged. Well, he was right, but no way in hell were any of the wizards letting him know that. Ogron's complete and total emotional breakdown was their business, and theirs alone.

'Um…the heck was that?'

'Helping. You'll figure it out, trust me.' He glanced to the Winx, backing up and glowing purple as he started to lift into the air. 'We can't stay here, but trust me when I say we'll see each other again very soon.'

Ogron finally felt himself relax as he flew up and away. It looked like this had actually worked. Gregory had ignored the Winx and freed them. They'd succeeded. He wouldn't face Neruman's wrath. Gregory seemed to be on-side.

Unfortunately, Stella was very much not on-side. 'Where do you think you're going?' she yelled after them. 'Solar Storm!'

The attack sped through the air with the speed one would expect from a spell made of light, slamming into Ogron's stomach with far more force than one would expect from light.

'Ogron!' Gantlos caught him just before the lighthouse wall could allow everyone to see what the inside of Ogron's skull looked like. 'Are you okay?'

Ogron groaned, clutching his stomach. He felt like he'd been tenderised and cooked, at the same, agonising time. 'Ow…' He felt fury churn in his sizzled stomach. 'I…will…not…be beaten down by these insects!' All the anger he felt towards Neruman during every second of puppeting, through every punishment he'd been forced to inflict on himself, every ripping away of whatever shreds of dignity or autonomy he had managed to cling to, surged to the surface, blinding him in a sea of white-hot rage. He was powerless against Neruman, helpless to stand and fight, to protect himself, but finally…finally he could get hurt and fight back.

He let out a furious cry, pushing away from Gantlos and hurling every drop of anger at Stella in the form of a wild burst of the darkest magic he could summon. The force of the attack almost sent him crashing backwards into the wall, but he didn't care.

'Stella, move!' His chance to finally land a hit on his aggressor was rapidly assassinated by the inexperienced young fairy, Cindy. She ran between Ogron's magic and Stella, her hair floating around her as she transformed in a burst of pink light, throwing her hands out in front of her to summon the most instinctive magic a fairy could muster.

'Emotional Wall!' A pulsating, heart-shaped shield blossomed in front of her, glowing with soft, weak warning.

'Cindy, don't!' Stella cried. 'Ogron's too strong!'

She was proven right the moment the attack hit the shield. Cindy let out a shriek as her barrier shattered in a few seconds, the impact throwing her backwards. That alone would have been enough to give her a good few bruises and probably a few hours of unplanned sleep, but what people always seemed to forget was the ground. And that, when people got knocked down, they hit it. Hard. Higher-level fairies were more immune to knocks and impact, thanks to the delightful machinations of fate that adored fairies but greatly enjoyed screwing with everyone else, but new fairies, who'd only transformed today from the looks of things? They had about as much protection as a motorcyclist wearing a knitted hat. And Cindy was regrettably no exception. Her head hit the ground with a sickening crack, and all the Winx's plans of battle were forgone in an instant as Bloom dashed to heal her, the blood drying to a trickle in moments as her magic spilled across her skin.

'Cindy! What are you doing to her?' Gregory demanded. 'She needs a hospital!'

'Gregory, no, Bloom is healing her,' Flora soothed. 'You just need to let her.'

'Let her what, put on a light show?!' Gregory roared. The entire area trembled with the force of his rage, and he paled. 'I…I can't stay here…' he muttered, staring down at his glowing hands with horror. 'What if I hurt her?'

Gregory turned and fled, ignoring the Winx calling out to him.

'C'mon, Ogron,' Anagan urged, taking his arm as he tried to regain full awareness. What had just happened, exactly?

'Ogron, come on, they're not gonna stay distracted for long, we need to go!'

Ogron looked to Anagan, blinking through the haze until he remembered. Right. Yes. They had to go. Leaving the Winx to celebrate Bloom having the most convenient powers of anyone ever, her flames rousing Cindy, they flew away into the night, Ogron praying to whatever deities might possibly listen to him for a reason other than to tune into the latest instalment of his life shattering down around him that he hadn't just managed to ruin absolutely everything in a split-second of rage.

He should have shown up by now. He should have gone to sleep. He should have dreamt the way to their location. He should be here. Ogron should be training him. Appeasing Neruman. Doing legitimately anything except pacing back and forth and hysterically wondering whether Neruman would decide it was time to graduate to breaking things.

'Oh god…' he muttered, knotting his hands into his hair and trying not to hyperventilate. 'Oh god… He's not coming. We failed.' He snorted in a sort of panicked haze. 'Oh, who am I kidding? I failed. You both did great. I screwed up. I almost killed his bloody girlfriend, and now he's never going to trust us, and we'll have to tell Neruman, and he'll…he'll be furious. Oh god… Oh god…'

'Ogron!' Anagan strode over to him and gently grasped his shoulders, putting a stop to his pacing. 'Ogron, calm down.'

'That's easy for you to say!' Ogron snapped, attempting to shake Anagan off and continue his stressed ritual of wearing a trench in the floor. 'You're not the one that's going to be made to break your own bloody ribs!' He began feverishly twisting his hair around his finger in yet another nervous tic, one Anagan quickly and calmly put a stop to before Ogron could cut off circulation.

'Hey…hey, look at me. Look at me, Ogron. It's going to be okay.'

Ogron shook his head. It wasn't. It wasn't at all. He failed. Again. 'Gantlos had it under control…' he mumbled, Anagan slipping his hands into his to put a stop to his nervous fidgeting. 'He got him…got him to trust us…and I messed it all up…Neruman gave us…' his breath hitched, 'gave us a job to do…and I failed…'

'No, you didn't. It's early, Gregory will show up,' Anagan reassured him.

'But what if he doesn't…?'

'He will.' Gantlos, who had been worriedly watching Ogron's state for the last few minutes, finally spoke up from his spot leaning against the wall. 'Trust me. Magic like that…you need help. We're that help.' He crossed the warehouse, his hand taking Anagan's spot on Ogron's shoulder. 'You remember mine, right? You really think I could have got full control without you?' Ogron did remember. As Gantlos had grown into his magic, a panic attack could turn into a category nine earthquake within a few moments. He was right. If Gregory was as powerful as that, if he had that little control, then he needed them. But that didn't mean he'd come to them…

'Just…sit down, okay?' Anagan suggested, guiding Ogron away from his pacing spot. 'That way we won't have to awkwardly explain to Gregory - who will come - why you're passed out on the floor.'

Ogron started to hesitantly nod, but just as he was starting to consider letting the tension fade a little, there was a rather aggrieved cough from underneath him. No…

'Would someone,' Neruman demanded, stretching out from under Ogron to lean irritably against the wall, 'mind informing me why I just had to enter the dreams of this young delinquent to personally convince him to come to you three?'

'Lord Neruman…I…I…' Ogron couldn't find the words, shrinking back towards his friends. He felt Anagan's grip on his hand tighten, and he leaned into his touch, as though he could somehow use their love for him as a shield.

'Hm, I don't think I asked you to pathetically stutter,' Neruman mused. 'I believe I requested an explanation.' He hopped up to perch on a crate, waving a hand and offering a sinister smile. 'Go ahead. I'd say I'll wait, but…' his smile twisted, 'I am not a patient man.'

'Lord Neruman,' Gantlos started, stepping protectively in front of Ogron. 'Gregory was in a difficult place, and the Winx only exacerbated his breakdown. He trusts us, enough to choose us over them-'

Neruman waved a hand, cutting Gantlos off. 'Yes, yes, fascinating story, wonderful, may include it in my biography - why did he say 'my wizards' hurt his girlfriend?'

Gantlos and Anagan exchanged a glance, both very firmly shielding Ogron from Neruman.

Neruman picked up on it in a heartbeat, rolling his eyes. 'Oh, for evil's sake…' He slid to the floor, slipping under Ogron in a heartbeat. Gantlos and Anagan were both shoved aside as Ogron's mind flooded with panic, his steps rigidly driving him forwards a few paces, before his knees fluidly gave out like a cruel trapdoor, sending him crashing to the ground.

Neruman slipped back out of control just as Ogron hit the floor, smiling slightly as Ogron whimpered, shoving himself onto his knees as pain blazed across his body at the sudden impact and nausea coursed through him at the knowledge that his friends had just seen him be puppeted.

Gantlos and Anagan, meanwhile, were utterly horrified by what they'd just witnessed. This was the first time they'd seen Neruman puppet Ogron, and it was sick. Sick and truly twisted. Gantlos actually started towards Neruman, his fists crackling with furious power, but Anagan caught his wrist, shaking his head in quiet warning.

'Ogron…' Neruman purred, his voice thick with menace. 'I don't suppose you would be so good as to grace me with an explanation?'

'I…'

'I said explain.' The sadistically jovial tone fell from Neruman's voice, replaced with the predatory snarl of the dark wizard who'd made a name for himself as a madman that had never met a line he wouldn't cross.

Ogron hung his head, shaking on the warehouse floor. 'My Lord, Gantlos…Gantlos got him to trust and free us, and I…I implanted our location into his mind so that it would come to him in a dream, and hopefully bring him to us.'

'Hopefully?' Neruman scoffed. 'Ogron, I do hope you haven't been hinging any of my plans on hope. Hope is a pathetically weak and pointless thing, and something I am tirelessly working to free you of.' And what an excellent job he'd been doing. Ogron was existing five seconds from complete emotional failure, all thanks to his master.

'Now, I asked a question, and am yet to receive an answer. This is an unusual position for me, you know. Most people are aware enough of what I'll do to them to spit an explanation out as soon as I show up.'

Ogron drew in a shaky breath, staring down at the floor, the spot where his shadow should rest. '…Stella attacked me, as we were leaving. Landed a relatively bad hit, and I…hit back. Gregory's girlfriend transformed and got in the way, and she got hurt.' In all fairness, Ogron hadn't aimed for Cindy. At least, he didn't think so. He didn't really remember the magic leaving his hands, but he knew he'd wanted to hit Stella.

'I see…' Neruman breathed, tapping his fingers in quiet contemplation. 'Well, that would explain why he did not seem at all in the mind to come to you, and why he argued back when I went to speak to him following your little tantrum. You know…' He rose from his spot, slipping along the wall in an inky mass of impending fury. 'It is, in fact, rather beneath me to negotiate with teenagers. Even one with as much negative potential as this one. For your failure to force me to demean myself in such a way…' he tutted softly, shaking his head, '…very disappointing.' He slid under Ogron, staring up at him with a sadistic, mocking pity. 'I believe we discussed the ramifications of failure…?'

'Lord Neruman-' Gantlos started, breaking away from Anagan's grasp and striding towards Ogron. He took Ogron's hand, carefully guiding him to his feet, and Ogron fought the urge to bury his head in Gantlos's chest and cling on for dear life. That wouldn't stop Neruman.

'Gantlos, you are my slave, not a crutch. Ogron can stand on his own, at least for now.' Neruman waved a hand, shooing Gantlos away. When Gantlos remained decidedly un-shooed, Neruman's eyes narrowed, illuminating the dingy warehouse with quiet fury that Ogron knew was being unleashed on him, regardless of who'd incited it.

'Move or I will have Ogron move you.'

Ogron glanced to Gantlos, his eyes wide and pleading. Please…don't make me…

Gantlos looked like he wanted to break Neruman's shadowy neck, but he forced himself to step back, his chest shuddering with furious, laboured breaths.

'Ogron…' Neruman purred, slinking across the warehouse. 'Gregory will still serve me, in the end, so since you didn't completely ruin everything, you can decide where we do this. In front of your former followers and their dwindling respect for you, or in private, so you can downplay your shame and humiliation.'

'Don't you dare touch him!' Gantlos spat, and Neruman shot him a glare.

'I don't know how well Ogron's explained this, but I have never once laid a hand on him. The only bloodied hands are his, Gantlos. Now, do shut up, as you are making me rather ticked off, and I am about to have a very easy target upon which to take out my frustrations.'

Gantlos shut up, though Ogron could see murder boiling in his eyes as he seethed at Neruman's smirking, slithering shadow.

Neruman nodded, before turning back to Ogron. 'Well? Are we doing this here?'

As much as Ogron despised the thought of facing this alone, the idea of Gantlos and Anagan seeing him do this to himself…the prospect was too hideous to imagine. With a trembling, cracking voice, he whispered, 'No.'

Neruman clapped his hands, slithering towards the door. 'Well, chop-chop then! Gregory is only crossing the city, after all, and I'd rather like you to be able to speak when he arrives.'

Ogron cast a last, helpless glance back at Gantlos and Anagan, both his friends staring at him with horrified pity. He turned to walk after Neruman, his steps leaden with resignation, before he felt a warm weight tackle him from behind.

'I'm sorry…' Anagan whispered, hugging him close for a heartbeat before Neruman could notice. 'I'm sorry we can't protect you…'

Ogron's eyes glistened with tears he wouldn't let himself shed until this was over, and he flung his arms around Anagan, shaking in his embrace.

'It's okay. Just…be there for me after.'

'Always.'

Ogron reluctantly tore himself away, hurrying after Neruman before his master could glance back and notice his brief moment of comfort and reassurance.

The wind nipped at his skin as he stepped outside, eliciting shivers of cold to join his shivers of fear.

'Took you long enough,' Neruman complained, barely visible in the sea of darkness outside the warehouse.

Ogron sank to his knees in front of him, bowing his head in weary, fearful resignation. 'Just…just get it over with.'

Neruman smirked at his submission. 'Look who's finally accepting his place. Almost makes me lighten this a tad. …Almost.'

It turned out, obsessively pacing back and forth actually was as good a stress reliever as Ogron demonstrated. In that Ogron did it all the time, and was still perpetually stressed, and thus it relived stress about as well as repeatedly hitting yourself in the head with an irritable duck. And yet, as Anagan was discovering, it was incredibly addictive when you were terrified out of your mind for your friend, who was being beaten by his own hand thanks to the twisted machinations of the psychopath that Anagan had done nothing to stop! Nothing!

The metaphorical trench they joked about Ogron wearing was becoming worrying close to being a reality as Anagan's super speed responded to his panic and his pacing morphed into a wild, terrified blur zipping back and forth, the friction from his steps driving stone dust into the air that his hyperventilating rapidly drew into his lungs. He paused to choke for a moment, before resuming.

'Anagan…' Gantlos muttered, though it was half-hearted. He was engaged in his own way of keeping from pelting outside, screwing all physics, and just trying to beat up a shadow, raking his talons down the walls absentmindedly, leaving long, scared marks.

'Why aren't we doing anything?' he whispered, clenching his fists with anger and pain. 'Neruman's hurting him, and we…we just…we just wait? Wait for him to decide he's had enough?'

'I don't…I don't know what else we're supposed to do,' Anagan murmured, slowing to a miserable stop. 'Neruman isn't…he's not even physically here. We can't fight back. He can just…take control…whenever he wants, and I don't know how we're supposed to stop that. How we're supposed to stop this.'

Gantlos groaned, covering his face with his hands. 'I don't know… God, I don't know. I spoke up, but you heard him. Anything we do, he'll just take it out on Ogron. We're…helpless.' He practically spat the last word, punching the wall with frustration, the bricks quivering under the assault of his fury.

'He's helpless,' Anagan added, the words driving a knife through his heart. Ogron was trapped as Neruman's puppet, and there was nothing he could do about it. He could patch him up as best he was able, but that didn't change anything. Not really. All it did was keep him together enough to leave something for Neruman to break.

'We have to do something…' Gantlos muttered, running his hand through his hair with stress. 'There has to be…be something, right?'

Never in his entire life had shaking his head felt so horrible to Anagan. But there was nothing. Nothing they could do. All he could do was as Ogron had asked. Be there for him afterwards.

Gantlos and Anagan both whipped around as the door creaked open with a weariness that seemed downright peppy when compared to the wizard staggering through it.

Anagan was at Ogron's side in a heartbeat, ducking under his arm to let him lean on him. Ogron groaned with relief, letting Anagan take his weight as Gantlos rushed across, immediately checking Ogron over. As his eyes roved across the new symphony of bruises and cuts, his eyes blazed.

'I swear…' he breathed, his voice heavy with hatred. 'I don't care how long it takes…I will kill that madman for this.'

'Come on…' Anagan murmured, helping Ogron to walk. 'Let's get you to bed.'

Ogron groaned with each step, only taking a few before Gantlos decided he couldn't take it another second, scooping Ogron up in his arms and carrying him across the warehouse. Normally, Ogron would have protested against such a form of aid making him look weak, or helpless, but now, he just sunk into Gantlos's support, his head tiredly lolling against his chest.

Gantlos went to put Ogron on his bed, but Ogron shook his head, whimpering.

'No…don't…don't let go. …Not yet.'

'Okay…okay.' Gantlos kept hold of him, sitting down in his stead, adjusting his position as best he could to balance Ogron's meagre comfort with Anagan's need to attend to his new injuries.

'Oh god…' Anagan carefully began to clean out a cut, grimacing as Ogron flinched away from his touch, leaning into Gantlos as though in the hopes that his friend would be able to protect him from the pain.

'Ogron…' Gantlos murmured, stroking his hair back from his face. 'Ogron, you need to let him help, okay?'

'…Okay…'

Anagan tended to Ogron in silence, seeing that Ogron was in no position to talk to either of them. He wanted to kill Neruman just as badly as Gantlos at this point. Nobody abused his friend like this. But ranting or getting angry wouldn't heal Ogron's injuries, nor would they ease the trembling from his body, so he kept quiet, solely focused on helping as best he could.

Ogron drifted in and out of a hazy, pained doze in Gantlos's arms, his eyes intermittently fluttering shut in an escape from…everything.

'Done…'

Ogron groaned softly, shooting Anagan a weak, but grateful smile. '…Thanks…'

'Always.' Anagan discarded the first aid kit, climbing up onto the bed to join Gantlos in forming a protective friend shield, keeping Ogron as sheltered from his life as possible. 'Always…'

Ogron sank into their embrace, and they just sat like that for a while. Silently holding their broken, exhausted leader as he fought not to cry.

Just as Anagan was starting to try and think of something to say, he felt Gantlos stiffen.

'Gantlos? You okay?'

Gantlos was staring intently at the doors, squinting as though looking beyond them. 'We have company.'

Ogron shot to his feet in a heartbeat. 'The Winx?'

'No!' Gantlos winced, obviously feeling guilty over panicking Ogron. 'No, sorry. Gregory showed up. I can sense him.' He offered Ogron an attempt at a reassuring smile. 'Your location spell musta worked.'

'…Oh.' Ogron sank back down onto the bed, pulling his knees up to his chest. 'I…that's good, I suppose.'

Gantlos and Anagan exchanged what had to be their millionth concern glance in the past few weeks.

Ogron sighed miserably, looking away. 'We can't screw this up. I can't take this again. I'm sorry, I'm weak, but I really can't…'

'No!' Anagan caught Ogron's chin, guiding him to look at him. 'You're not weak, Ogron. Don't ever say that. You're strong, you've just been through hell.'

Ogron's eyes shone with tears, but he bit his lip, nodding weakly.

'You're strong,' Anagan repeated. 'And you're capable enough to get through this. We won't fail. It's teaching a kid; you can do that. You pretty much taught me and Duman.'

Ogron smiled with faint acknowledgement, wincing as he glanced down at his scraped-up hands.

'I…look, please…please don't judge me, but…I want to put an illusion on this. On all this. I don't want some stranger, no matter how allegedly useful he might be, to see this.'

That was a lot of magic to keep up, but Anagan completely understood where Ogron was coming from.

'Okay. You're exhausted, I'll help you. Shouldn't take too long.' He glanced to Gantlos, who was frowning slightly at the depletion of magic. 'Can you…you go find him? We'll be done by the time you get here.'

Gantlos nodded tiredly, getting up and heading for the door, leaving Anagan to carefully start weaving a temporary illusion to render Ogron's appearance unmarked and as pristine as he could get it.

'Dammit…' Gantlos muttered as he stalked outside, burying his hands in his pockets as a frigid breeze loudly announced his departure from the already-freezing warehouse, welcoming him out into what was really too cold an evening for California.

'Dammit…' He really, really wanted to punch something. And since Neruman's face was unavailable, he was sorely tempted to settle for a shipping container, or a barrel, or just the ground. The only thing keeping his fists stuffed in his pockets was the knowledge that the sound of one of his emotional releases would scare the heck out of his friends, and they were stressed enough as it was.

And now he was crossing the estate to bring a stranger into their lives. He…wasn't thrilled about that. Okay, he was very unhappy with that. He'd helped Gregory, but there was a huge difference between giving someone a hand out of basic human empathy, and inviting them to come witness and involve themselves in the trailer fire that was your life. The last thing Ogron needed right now was a walking anger issue. And no, Gantlos did not count, he had his temper completely under control-ish.

For a powerful wizard who'd stormed through the city in a tornado of rage and destruction earlier that day, Gregory looked very much like a scared kid left alone at camp for the first time, clutching a beat-up old duffel bag to him and flinching away from the rats skittering in the shadows. He really didn't belong here. On an old, abandoned industrial estate, with three supervillain wizards. But where Gregory did or didn't belong was an observation not permitted to Gantlos, so he did as he knew how, and performed the task set to him.

'You're here.'

Gregory jumped at the sudden voice, schooling his expression into a hard scowl as soon as he saw Gantlos.

'Yeah. I came. I…I don't wanna destroy the city. Or whatever. But your friend ever hurts Cindy again-'

'That was an accident; he was aiming for the airhead that blasted him first.'

'Doesn't change anything.' Gregory folded his arms. What, was he waiting for an apology? If he was, he could stand there until he grew roots, because Gantlos wasn't in the mood to cater to a kid and his ire.

'You wanna learn how not to destroy the city?'

Gregory nodded.

'Then follow me.' Gantlos turned and walked back into the thick, choking shadows, Gregory watching him nervously. The young wizard seemed to deliberate for a moment, shooting a glance back towards the well-lit street, only a dozen or so metres away, and the life he was walking away from. He took a deep breath, looked away, and followed Gantlos into the darkness.