'Where the hell is Ogron?!' The words were the same Gantlos had spat every day for the past two weeks. As always, the shadow just mindlessly dumped two trays of food on the floor, whisking back out of the cell and taking any answers with it.

'Hey! I'm f*#king talking to you!'

'Just give it up, G…' Anagan sighed, putting a grounding hand on his shoulder. 'You know it won't answer us.'

'If I could get a grip, I'd-'

'Yeah, well, you can't, so just calm down.' Anagan sighed, sitting cross-legged on the floor to pick at his food. Same old same old by now. God, Gantlos hated it. Hated that they were locked away down here. Away from Ogron. He'd looked so broken the last time they'd seen him…ugh, why had he let Neruman whisk them out of the room?! It was his job to protect Ogron! But…if he'd tried…Neruman would just have hurt him even more. This was hell…

'Eat.' Anagan didn't bother coaxing him, he knew by now how pointless that was. The brusque, clear order was enough to get a few mouthfuls down Gantlos's throat before he went back to pointlessly pounding at the rusted door. Was he going to get tetanus? Yes, probably, this door was really rusted. But it was really rusted. It would break, it had to break, his magic had to start working on it, on the floor, on the walls, the ceiling, anything! He couldn't just sit here, what if Ogron needed him?!

'You could help, you know!' he snapped. They'd had this discussion at least seven times now; it was less an argument and more a way to pass the time.

'You're going to break a bone; there's no point.'

'You don't know that!'

'Yes, I do.' They continued in much this fashion until Gantlos finally exhausted himself, and, right on schedule, Anagan caught him just as he dropped to his knees, carefully guiding him to curl up on one of the three beds. He avoided looking at the third. It shouldn't be empty. He prayed it wouldn't be for long…whatever Neruman was doing to Ogron, it had to be almost over, right? …Right?

'You've cut yourself.'

Gantlos rolled his eyes, wiping the blood off on the bedsheet and rolling over.

'Hygienic.'

'You know I don't care; it's not like it can do much to me anyway.'

'Give it here.'

'No.'

'Gantlos…'

With a huff, Gantlos turned back over, offering Anagan his scraped-up hand. 'Fine. Have at it.'

Neruman hadn't bothered to confiscate the medical supplies Gantlos had grabbed before they'd been dragged back here, which meant Gantlos was lucky enough to experience the joys of antiseptic in an open wound. Were he more pathetic, he'd have reacted. But he'd made it through broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder, this was just boring. And barely painful enough to distract him from staring at the ceiling, wondering where Ogron was. …Was he even…?

'He's okay.'

'And you know that because?'

'Because…because he has to be, he's strong…'

Gantlos sighed, sitting up and taking his hand back as Anagan tied off one of their last bandages. He was going to have to stop beating at the door soon…

'Anagan…he's not, not anymore, you know that…Neruman broke him.' Gantlos's fists clenched, his breathing becoming laboured. 'Neruman broke him. And we did nothing.'

'There…there wasn't anything we could do.' It wasn't an excuse. It was pure, simple fact. There wasn't anything they could do. They were weak, and helpless, and all they'd been able to do was stand and watch as Ogron had been beaten to within an inch of his life. Whenever Gantlos closed his eyes, he could see Ogron's scared, helpless face, staring after them as they left him…they'd had no choice, but still, their feet had moved, they'd walked themselves out of that goddamn room…

'Neruman will need us again,' Anagan said, more to himself than Gantlos. 'Then we can ask him. Hell, he'll need Ogron; we'll see him for ourselves.'

Gantlos didn't know when Anagan had got so delusional, but he wasn't going to shatter it. He was clinging to the idea just as much as his friend was, after all.

Ogron couldn't decide whether to hate or be grateful for the cold. On the one hand, it was bringing on constant, unending flashbacks of Omega, leaving him shivering and utterly numb. On the other hand, the numbness meant he mostly couldn't feel any of his many, many injuries. So that was nice. On the third hand that he was allowing to exist because he was just too tired to care about logic or phrasal convention, the pain might have in turn distracted him from the constant, gnawing ache in his stomach. He'd been fed, of course he had, Neruman was sticking to his word that he wouldn't kill him, but that didn't mean he was eating well, or even close to enough. Just enough to stay breathing. God he wished he could just stop breathing…playing 'Which is worst?' between starvation, cold and pain had ceased to pass the time a long while ago, alongside being gobsmackingly depressing.

He missed his friends…as weak as it sounded, he just wanted a hug. A long, gentle hug, that let him burst into tears until he fell asleep and it all went away…why wouldn't it all go away? Was this some kind of karmic punishment for everything he'd done?

'If it is, punish me some other way…' he whispered pleadingly into the silence. Not even the standard dungeon sounds answered him. No dripping of water, no skittering of rats. No rat would choose to come down here; any living creature would have to be out of its mind to willingly come near a place like this.

He briefly considered rolling over, but the idea seemed so astronomical and utterly pointless that he quickly shooed it out of his mind. He was…well, not comfortable, not at all, but he'd been lying here long enough that he couldn't really feel anything anymore. And he was so dehydrated that he just couldn't manage tears today if he started feeling things…

Just as he'd satisfied himself with lying limp as a corpse, his entire body tensed. The door. He heard the creak of the hinges, before his eyes burned at the weak spark of light creeping inside the cell, even the lethargic glow a supernova in his darkness-drowned vision.

'Oh, are you dead?'

'…No…' He'd learned a while ago to answer when Neruman came. He wasn't alone, not quite. His master came every few days with food, but despite the meagre, foul-tasting lifeline he brought, Ogron wished he'd just leave him to starve. His entire body shook at Neruman's presence, what little energy he managed to dredge up going towards curling up in a protective ball, as though somehow that would make Neruman leave him alone.

'Ah, excellent. I do have a few shadows check on you, but it's hard to tell if you're breathing sometimes.' Ogron wished he wasn't.

Deep breath. He just had to get through this, then Neruman would leave again. Endure whatever blows he had to, beg to be let out as pleased his master, then he could eat and pass back out.

He awaited the typical clatter of a tray being dropped to the floor, but no sound came except the slow, bored sound of Neruman's breathing.

Eventually, his curiosity and terror got the better of him, and he forced himself to turn over. He tried to push himself up, but the strength deserted him. Squinting up at Neruman, he saw no food, just an impatient expression. Oh. So he wasn't being fed. Oh well, hastened death, he supposed…

Just as he was starting to curl back up, a foot connected with his ribs.

'Uh-uh-uh!' As tears spilled over, Neruman crossed his arms, shaking his head with disappointment. 'I came down here for a reason, do not try and ignore me, slave.'

''M sorry…' Ogron groaned, trying to stay present to preserve his decreasing number of intact bones. 'What…can I…do to…serve you?'

'Oh, much better!' Neruman snapped his fingers, and Ogron felt blood return to his hands as the cruelly-tight shackles around his wrists fell away to dust. 'For starters, you can get up and follow me.'

Ogron just stared for a moment, rubbing the skin on his chafed, bleeding wrists with quiet awe. Was he free? Was this actually over? Or was Neruman just teasing him? Giving him hope he planned to snatch back?

'Up! Now!'

Didn't matter, if he didn't get up now, pretty soon he wouldn't be physically able. He was barely able now, in fact. Gritting his teeth and summoning all the strength he had left, he managed. Somehow, he managed. His legs felt hazy and ethereal under him, his vision swimming as he sagged against the wall. His eyes fluttered, taunting him with the seductive promises of sleep, but, seeing the look on Neruman's face, he knew far, far better than to listen.

'Come on, come on, hurry up, you're acting like you're starved with broken ribs or something…' Neruman snickered at his own cruel humour, sweeping out of the cell.

Hesitantly, trembling, Ogron followed. Every step felt like the hardest thing he'd ever had to talk himself into, his body weak with hunger and pain, but the door glowed with the promise of freedom, a promise that drew him near, even through exhaustion.

Somehow, the air tasted different once he was through that door. Lighter. He prayed to every entity that he would never be relegated to that hell again. Or at least that he'd be allowed to die down there if he was.

It got warmer as they walked upstairs, Ogron dragging himself up every step, ribs burning as he gasped in air to fuel his weak, lethargic steps. Neruman seemed annoyed, but didn't say anything as Ogron struggled along behind him.

'Nice to see the world again?' Neruman asked conversationally.

'Y…ye…yes…' Ogron gasped out, feeling that perhaps the conversation was just there to make his exertion even worse.

'Do well today, and you won't have to reside in those quarters again.'

Ogron sped up. He actually managed to speed up. It was still slower than an asthmatic tortoise, but the promise of being free from that hell spurred him on, until at last, they reached the familiar doors of Neruman's throne room. Neruman swept in first, and Ogron's heart leapt as he heard a shout from the room.

'Neruman! Where is he, you psychopath?!' Gantlos! Oh, Gantlos…he was going to see them again!

'Oh, calm down…' Neruman grumbled. 'He's right behind me. Dramatic much…?'

Ogron stumbled after him, leaning up against the doorframe to try and catch his breath. Raising his blurred gaze, his breath caught in his throat. Anagan. Gantlos. Tears spilled over, and his muscles fought to try and move him across the room, though it was a doomed effort.

'Ogron!' Anagan moved for him, hurrying across with Gantlos hot on his heels, the former quickly catching Ogron as his knees gave out and sent him towards the hard flagstones.

'Oh thank god…' Anagan whispered, pulling Ogron close. 'You're okay, you're okay, you're okay…'

''M okay…' Ogron mumbled, burying his face in Anagan's jacket. He felt Gantlos's arms close around them both, and for a second, just a second, everything was okay.

'Well aren't you three precious…alright, that's enough, let go.' Neruman's shadows snatched them apart, and Ogron wanted to scream with anguish at being torn apart from his friends yet again.

'Ogron, it's okay, just breathe, it's okay…' Anagan soothed gently, standing a few feet away, warily regarding the shadows at their feet. It didn't feel okay, but Ogron was too afraid of Neruman to try anything right now.

'Right, good. Now we've taken care of the little Winx-esque moment, I can get on to what you are actually meant to be doing.' As in a mission? …Ogron didn't know if he could handle that. He was so exhausted…so hungry…he was pretty convinced he'd have been able to count his ribs on sight by this point. But as always, he had no choice.

'Who can tell me what this is?' Neruman adopted the tone of a teacher initiating a pop quiz as an illusion popped up in front of him, depicting a glowing orb of light. Hm…it looked familiar- oh!

'The Second Sun of Solaria!' Apparently he hadn't lost his old teacher's-pet quality. That annoying little trait was sticking with him.

'Yes, yes, very good…' Neruman nodded along, tossing the illusion from hand to hand like a baseball. 'Now, who can tell me what the Second Sun does?'

'It…it's one of the strongest sources of warmth and light in the dimension, right?' Anagan offered, and Ogron nodded in agreement. Gantlos just looked lost as to why they were having a damned quiz. Only, it was making Ogron more relaxed. Finally, something he could do without almost dying…

'Yes, correct. The Second Sun itself is a huge star illuminating a huge sector of the Magic Dimension, though its magical energy is channelled by the royals of Solaria in the Sun Spire in the palace. If it were to be extinguished, dozens, hundreds, even, of planets would suddenly be plunged into relative darkness, relying on weak light from other stars that wouldn't satiate their plant life for even a few months. The despair, chaos and thus, negative energy released from such an event would be such that I would certainly be able to not only restore my body, but also quickly take power in the chaos following my return.' That…was actually a damn good plan. Ogron had to admit that he wasn't sure he'd have been able to do better himself. Though his self-esteem had taken so many hits that it was quite certainly dead by now, so that wasn't making the point it seemed. But…

'…How?'

Neruman rolled his eyes at the weakly whispered question. 'I'm getting there, god…don't make me throw you into the wall.'

Ogron quailed, trying to stay upright. He felt a soft, insistent nudge on his hand, and glanced down with surprise to see Anagan shuffled closer, his fingers slowly knitting into his. The touch was risky, but so, so grounding… Anagan squeezed reassuringly, rubbing slow, soft circles on his hand with his thumb, and Ogron managed to time his breathing to them, easing back into a sense of weak stability.

'Thank you,' he mouthed as Neruman busied himself with his illusion.

'Always.'

'Now, there is, of course, a reason I'm giving this task to you three failures. A: you're expendable and might almost die doing this, and I don't much care.' Charming. 'B…the Winx already think you're weak and pathetic, which will make my plan far more believable. The Winx are at a concert because…Roxy has emotional issues, I think? Some problem with her mother dying? Whatever, nobody cares. Anyway, you will go, make a big scene, start a fight, them deliberately get defeated, and when you have lulled them into a false sense of security, they will see this in your pocket.' Neruman pulled a familiar trinket from his cloak, holding it up to shimmer in the weak light. Morgana's necklace? But…didn't Neruman need that for his spell? Ogron bit back the question; he didn't want to get a broken wrist.

'A fake, obviously.' Ah. Neruman played with the trinket, flicking the gemstones until they rattled. 'Pretty, though. And good enough to fool those children. I have bewitched it to draw in the Solarian Princess; once she takes it, she will be drawn to put it on, and from there, the hypnosis spell I have placed on it will allow me to take control of her just as I take control of you through your shadow. Then you will bring her back here to be granted the power to extinguish the Second Sun, before going to Solaria, using her to get into the Sun Spire, and finally doing something useful for once in your pointless lives. Any questions? Be warned that if you have any questions, that means you weren't listening, and I will beat you for it.'

Unsurprisingly, nobody had any questions.

'Good!' Neruman tossed Ogron the necklace, which he barely caught with fumbling fingers, quickly stuffing it into his pocket in readiness to be defeated. If this went wrong, they were heading straight back to Omega…

'Go, and don't let me down.' The words trailed off into a growl as the shadows formed an inky vortex before the wizards, the salty air of Gardenia blowing through. Ogron swallowed hard, stepping through with a deep, shuddering breath. He didn't breathe again until the portal was shut, and they were standing in a side alley, the sounds of an arena drifting in from a few streets away.

The cold breeze wandering the streets was all it took for Ogron to collapse with a shiver, Gantlos scooping him up just in time.

'Gotcha…'

'Missed you…' The weak whimper was all he could get out before he burst into tears, clinging onto Gantlos like he was the last thing holding him to life.

'We missed you too…shh, shh, it's okay, it's okay, I got you…' Gantlos eased down to sit, keeping Ogron very firmly cradled in his grasp, as determined not to let go as Ogron himself.

'Are you okay?' Anagan asked, getting in on the hug. 'Are you okay, did he hurt you?'

'M…mhm…not…too…badly…though, just…bruises…it doesn't hurt too much…don't worry about it, just stay like this…'

Anagan obliged, and Ogron finally, finally started to feel some semblance of safe again. He had to succeed today, had to do what Neruman had asked…he had to stay with them, couldn't get ripped apart again…

That in mind, he made himself start to sit up, as much as his mind and body hated him for it. 'We…we should go…go in…get ready…'

'Ogron, no, you're exhausted.' Anagan looked at him with such worry that it gave him pause. It couldn't hurt to stay for just a minute, could it…?

'Please, let us take care of you…' Well, alright…if it was so important…

Ogron allowed himself to sag back against Gantlos, not exactly sleeping, but pretty damn close. 'They're not…here yet?'

Gantlos shook his head. 'When they show up, I'll sense 'em. Then we'll head on over. You can relax, we got you.'

Ogron nodded weakly, wondering just how he was meant to manage a fight soon. He'd just have to push his powers to their limits, he supposed, absorb some energy from the air…which would ultimately just make him more exhausted, but he was possibly going to die later anyway, so who cared, really…

'Ogron…' Anagan asked, settling in next to him, a sweet mercy in the cold evening. Ogron still couldn't shake the dungeon chill. 'What did Neruman do?'

'Locked me up…' Ogron muttered. 'Deeper than our cell…it was dark, and freezing, I haven't eaten in days…' His stomach growled loudly, as though deciding he was just too tired to make the point alone.

'Oh…' Anagan hugged him again, frowning as he felt him shiver. 'You're freezing…here.' He shrugged his signature trench coat off his shoulders, slipping it onto Ogron through weak protestations that he needed it, he'd get cold too. But Ogron quickly gave up on protesting as he snuggled deeper into the coat's warmth, relishing in the lingering heat from Anagan's body. Oh, he was warm…he was warm…

'I'll give it back when we go over…' he promised. The Winx would think it odd for them to undergo an outfit change, and he wasn't risking anything going wrong tonight.

'Mhm. Just get warm now, okay?'

Ogron nodded tiredly, praying that if Neruman's plan went right, he might finally be afforded some real rest. In a real bed…not a stone floor, not a mess of blankets on some crates, a real mattress, with a real blanket, maybe a few blankets, and a few days of nothing to do. Just sleep. Sleep, and eat. God, he needed to eat…

He felt Gantlos stiffen under him, as though the universe were reminding him he couldn't rest just yet.

'…Them?'

'Them.'

With a groan, Ogron got up, starting to remove the coat. But Anagan caught his hands, keeping him bundled up.

'It'll still be a while before we have to start a fight. Give it back to me when we're actually jumping into battle, okay?'

Ogron couldn't be bothered to argue back, just nodding gratefully and following Gantlos out of the alley.

Thankfully, the venue happened to be playing host to a rock band, so their outfits blended right in. The only thing that got them a second glance was Ogron's haggard, borderline starved appearance, but in true human fashion, everyone shrugged it off as not their problem.

The number of people in the crowd made Ogron skittish - too many people, too much noise, it was so much after weeks isolated in the dark. Everything felt much too loud, and much too overwhelming, oh god, he just wanted to curl up into a little ball until it all went away, when would all the people just go away?!

'Hey…hey, it's okay…' Anagan murmured, keeping a tight grip on his hand. Ogron should have felt humiliated to need to hold anyone's hand, but he couldn't bring himself to feel anything but grateful for the grounding touch. They just had to get away from the crowds…then they'd get backstage, into a position to crash the show…at least in a fight, he was in control of the crowd…he could rule with fear.

'Okay, there should be an employees only door somewhere around here, we just need to make sure we don't get see-' he trailed off as his stomach growled loudly, the sound a humiliating reminder of his weakness, the sensation just downright painful. 'Sorry.'

'You're starving, you can't fight like this,' Anagan muttered. Ogron started to brush it off, but Anagan interrupted him, passing his hand off to Gantlos so he wouldn't be left alone to drown in the crowd. 'Take care of him for a sec, brb.'

'Where are you-?' Gantlos sighed as Anagan slipped into the crowd, vanishing as a blur a second later. 'And he's gone. What's he up to?'

Ogron shrugged, trying to fight the urge to step closer to Gantlos as the noise of the crowd seemed to reach a crescendo. Ugh, this was so pathetic! He had almost ruled the world, he should be able to stand alone in a crowd! Operative word being almost… The insidious little whisper struck a nerve, sending him shuffling closer to Gantlos as yet another bit of his self esteem decided it was done with this life. He hated that he could hear Neruman's voice in his mind, whispering to him, telling him he was weak, useless, pathetic, incapable of anything, barely even worth keeping as a slave…no, no, no!

'Hey…breathe, you're okay.' A gentle squeeze on his hand helped guide him back to reality, and he glanced up to see Gantlos looking at him with steadfast, worried reassurance. 'You're fine, nothing's gonna hurt you. It's just people. Any of them tried to hurt you, I'd snap them in two.'

'M…mhm…' Ogron managed a weak smile, the reassurance managing to seep through his anxiety. '…Thanks…'

'Always. It'll be okay, ya know. This is just tricking the Winx, we can do that.' He smirked. 'We did it before.'

'Mhm…but what if they just see it coming? As you said…we've tricked them before. They might be on their guard…'

'Probably,' Gantlos conceded. 'But if they think they've got us beat, they'll probably be too relieved to worry all that much. Then we get Stella, and we're outta here.'

'You make it sound so easy. We almost died last time.'

Gantlos shrugged. 'This time we got a crowd of civilians they'll have to worry about. No wildfire barrier boxing us in this time. They'll have to pair off and protect the crowd; it's always been their weakness.' That was very true. Any time they needed the Winx off their backs, all they had to do was strike at the crowd. They'd draw their fire to defence, and then pull off a convincing 'defeat' with the remaining Winx. He wondered if Stella would fight for them, too…it would be nice to have someone else on their side…however unwilling their aid would be.

'Hey.'

Ogron startled at Anagan's sudden reappearance behind him, gasping and falling back against Gantlos, cheeks burning with embarrassment at how pathetic he'd become.

'Sorry, sorry!' Anagan apologised quickly, helping him back up. 'I got you something.'

'Anagan, we don't have time for-' Anagan held up a paper bag already soaking through with grease, and Ogron shut up. He had no idea what was in there, but no force on this Earth was stopping him devouring it like his life depended on it.

'C'mon, I found a way outta this crowd.' Anagan beckoned them both, and Ogron hurried after him, and, more importantly, the hot, greasy smell drifting from the paper bag.

'Here.' Anagan handed it over as soon as they had slipped through a little side door, the hum of the crowd replace by the soft thrum of electrical equipment and the quiet sounds of nothing. Nothing else. Ah…

'You have no idea how much I love you right now…' Ogron snatched the bag, leaning up against the wall and ripping it open. The smell was almost intoxicating, his mouth watering as he dug out and bit into the contents before even bothering to take a look. Mm…fried chicken… He felt it settle in his stomach, and that was all the encouragement he needed to devour the rest. It was so hot he almost burned his tongue, but he didn't care, he didn't care, it was so good!

'Thank you…' he mumbled through mouthfuls, not bothering to stop to talk. He almost felt alive again with a little energy in him.

'You're welcome.' Anagan smiled to see the look of relieved elation on Ogron's face. 'You needed it.'

'Mhm…' Ogron licked the remaining grease off his fingers, smiling awkwardly when he realised what he was doing. '…Sorry. That wasn't classy.'

'Think we left classy behind a long while ago,' Gantlos chuckled. 'We're not judging.'

Ogron paused, then took care of the remaining fingers, beaming gratefully at Anagan. 'Thank you…I really needed that.'

'Any time. I'll see about getting you some more later, okay?' Anagan took the bag back, tucking it in his pocket.

'Are you…are you seriously avoiding littering?' Gantlos asked, holding back a snicker, and Anagan rolled his eyes.

'Yes, I am; I'm evil to people, not the environment.'

For just a heartbeat, Ogron felt himself relax. It was as though he was seeing a snippet of the past. When nothing was quite as bad as now. When he didn't wonder why they were laughing, just laughed along with them. They still had death hanging over their heads, but he could take a heartbeat to crack a smile, right?

'Catchy,' Anagan remarked as they made their way out onto the roof, staring down on the concert playing below. Not really Ogron's speed, contrary to what his outfit might imply, but he supposed it had its appeal. Duman would have liked it, which meant Gantlos would have been dragged to listen.

'It's alright.'

Anagan snickered at catching a glimpse of Ogron tapping his fingers in time to the beat.

'Wha-what?' Ogron asked, realising what he was doing and awkwardly tucking his hands behind his back.

'Nothing. You're just cute.'

'I…what now?' Was Anagan looking at someone else? He undeniably looked like hell. His hair was hanging in matted, greasy clumps he was mildly afraid to touch, more brown than red by now, while his clothes were clinging to his grimy skin like a layer of sweat-soaked slime. He looked a fright.

Oh, speaking of clothes… He slipped out of Anagan's jacket, handing it back with an apologetic grimace for the layer of dirt he'd managed to transfer across.

'Thank you. It…really helped.' In fact, he rather wished to keep it, as he was already starting to shiver in the freezing night air, but he'd warm up in the heat of battle soon.

'You're welcome.' Anagan started to slip it back on, pausing momentarily. '…You sure you don't want to keep it?'

'…No…no, I'm alright. …Thank you, though.'

'Any time. Now, how are we crashing this thing?'

Ogron frowned down at the crowd. 'Gantlos, where are the Winx?'

'There.' Gantlos pointed down to a group of dancing girls that, on closer squinting, did sport the suitable hair colours. 'Not sure where Stella and Musa are, though, their magic isn't with the group…'

'Can you go down and find Stella? This plan relies on her being here.'

'On it. I'll contact you guys when I find her,' Gantlos promised. A spell sent him carefully levitating down into the crowd, stalking through the concert-goers with clear, steady purpose. Thankfully, his hat made him easy to follow from up there.

'I'll crash the show.'

Ogron frowned, glancing to Anagan with surprise. 'You sure? That'll get the Winx's attention first, I can do it…'

Anagan shook his head, tapping his foot in stressed time to the music. 'Nah. It's about time I actually did something, anyways.'

'You do plenty!' Ogron turned his gaze away from the crowd, frowning at the implication. 'I think you're about the only reason I'm still alive, or at least borderline sane.'

'I…thanks. I do my best.'

'I need your best…'

'…I'm still crashing that concert, though.'

Ogron sighed, but in truth was rather glad not to be stuck in the centre of the Winx's attention. 'Alright. …Smash it up really well, it'll hurt Musa to bring the disharmony.'

'Will do.'

Guys, I found her, she's here!

Both wizards shot upright at the sudden shout in the telepathic link. Stella was here. Gantlos had found her.

'Get ready.' Anagan zipped towards the edge of the roof, jumping off and landing on stage. As the panic rapidly ensued, Ogron watched, frozen, for just a moment. Last chance. This was their last chance. He couldn't fail. He refused to fail.

The more energy he used his powers to gather, the greater the crash was afterwards, but that didn't matter. With a deep breath, the air around him grew even more chilled as what little thermal energy he could gather flowed into his body, his nerves electrifying even through the knowledge he'd want to pass out once he'd used it all up. There was a reason he didn't do this much. As of late, that reason had been that he'd simply lacked the magic to get started, but normally it was that the aftermath was rather like the crash of a drug addict discovering he was out just ten minutes after spending his last dollar. But your average drug addict had their life more together than him, so what the hell?

His eyes locked on Bloom, and the fresh energy swirled through his veins, the night sky vanishing to be replaced with the screaming pandemonium of a crowd running from forces they still couldn't fully comprehend.

'Hello, little fairy…'