Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

True Organization XIII had disbanded. As it turned out, Xemnas had been manipulating his own “organization” from behind the scenes, Braig had one foot out the door at all times (and there was that whole Luxu thing), Isa hadn’t cut it as a villain, and any and all other prospective members had been cut from the ranks. Leaving only Ansem, Xaldin, and Master Xehanort himself. And of course, Ansem had to go and pull the reveal that he too was building up a secret team of villains, because who wasn’t, and Xehanort had somehow not been mad at this, instead joining up with Ansem’s cause to bring Darkness and destruction upon all worlds, albeit with an agenda of his own. Xaldin tagged along because he liked stabbing things, as far as anybody could tell.

            This left the WHAM ARMY in a particularly tricky situation. The advent of the Destroyers was…well, not good. It was bad enough having the Overtakers breathing down the backs of their necks, but now even more villain teams seemed to be forming grudges against the WHAM ARMY and horning in on their territory.

            This seemed to be a situation that required discussion and action. Ergo, Mozenrath called a council in the usual basement. They all came hooded to start, just for the drama of false secrecy. The attendees were Mozenrath himself plus the Huntsman, Yzma, Wuya, Archibald Snatcher, Roman Torchwick, Mad Madam Mim, Ayam Aghoul, and Vexen…at least, those were the usual suspects. For this particular gathering, a few other perspectives had been invited. Discord, Neopolitan, and Quentin “Mysterio” Beck came to a founder council meeting for the first time, and Mozenrath was already regretting it.

            “I’m TELLING you, the movie is UNWATCHABLE that way,” Discord insisted. “You have to use my addition or not even bother.”

            “How. DARE. YOU?” Quentin seethed. “North by Northwest is a CINEMATIC MASTERPIECE. It can’t be sullied by any HD remake, film touch-up, or color restoration, let alone what YOU’RE suggesting. It can only be enjoyed in its original form!”

            “What, on reels?” Discord said with a roll of his mismatched eyes.

            “YES, on reels!” Quentin argued. “What, did you think I was going to say a VHS? No, I have a projector SPECIFICALLY for viewing classic cinema the way it was intended – a luxury I never got to exercise before I was recruited here. I’m never going back, I’m never putting anything made before 1970 in a VHS player, let alone a BLU-RAY, and for the final time – I will NOT say this again – I will never, ever watch North by Northwest PLAYING BACKWARDS!”

            Discord shrugged. “Suit yourself. I just think it’s funnier if Thornhill is running backward while a plane is desperately trying to get out of the same field as he is, also in reverse.”

            Neo gave Roman a plaintive look asking to be saved from this nonsense.

            “I know,” Roman told her. “I know. But this is the price we have to pay to figure out this Xehanort bullshit, apparently.”

            “Oh, right,” Discord realized. “That’s what we were talking about.”

            “Yes,” Mozenrath seethed, barely able to keep his temper in check. “That’s…what we…were talking about. NOT favorite movies to watch backwards.”

            “I give Mall Cop four stars,” Discord stated.

            “Want me to make you a podium and gavel?” Wuya suggested to Mozenrath. “I can add extra volume for when it hits.”

            “No, I’ll do this the old-fashioned way,” Mozenrath resolved. “The matter at hand, ONCE AGAIN, is that as of the dissolution of True Organization XIII and all of Xehanort’s…Xehanorting, it has become abundantly clear that even worse rival powers have been on the rise under our nose.”

            “I suppose we should hardly be surprised,” Vexen sighed. “After all, Xemnas’ original lineup never was the most…cohesive of rosters. Of course, all prior data pointed to him and all other Xehanorts trying the same thing over and over again regardless of the result, so how was I to assume otherwise?”

            “Ansem was never in that camp,” Mim reminded him. “He was always an independent thinker. Did what he wanted.”

            “He was an OUTLIER!” Vexen argued. “Why should I count an obvious outlier in an otherwise conclusive set of data?”

            “That Ansem,” Yzma seethed. “He thinks he dresses so much snappier than we do!”

            “He has never said that,” Mozenrath told her. “Once. Ever.”

            “I think it’s YOU who thinks he’s a snappy dresser and feels threatened,” Aghoul accused. “That said, I understand your fear completely. He’s got the villainous aesthetic down to an art. It almost makes me want to go back to the green look…or take a page out of his book and lower my neckline.”

            “YES!” Mim applauded. “Show your HIDEOUS emaciated frame to the world!”

            Aghoul took that for the compliment it was.

            “Well, he DOESN’T dress better than we do!” Yzma argued. “Ansem, I mean.”

            “No one’s saying he does!” Roman reminded her. “Not us, not any of his toadies, and not any of the goody-two-shoes!”

            “The point is that we’re now dealing with an apocalyptic threat that is wiping out worlds en masse on the way to reenacting the Keyblade War!” Mozenrath yelled, trying to regain control of the room.

            “It hardly makes sense,” the Huntsman recapitulated. “The goals of Ansem and Xehanort did not seem to align. One was a nihilist who wished to return all to Darkness, and the other hoping to make a rebirth in flame. For the two of them to collaborate so closely…there is a piece of critical knowledge we are missing.”

            “That isn’t important,” Mozenrath said. “Getting them OFF THE BOARD is.”

            “Hear me out,” said Mim. “What if we negotiated a truce with them?”
            “That literally goes against everything I’ve been saying since we entered this room,” Mozenrath told her.

            “Well, don’t we also like destroying things?” Mim asked.

            “I know I do!” Aghoul chimed in. “Also, I get the feeling that if you ask Verosika, she would agree.”

            “What does VEROSIKA MAYDAY have to do with any of this?” Mozenrath barked. “…Aghoul, do you know something I don’t?”

            “No,” said Aghoul, but he made a show of looking as far away from Mozenrath as possible.

            “Your demeanor is not reassuring,” Mozenrath told him.

            However, he knew better than to question it. He knew this because last week, he’d been convinced that Mim knew something about her other partner, Rémington Smisse, that Mozenrath didn’t – something specifically to do with double-dealing or betrayal – and she’d literally locked her mouth shut with a key and won the argument. Mozenrath figured that if Mim and Aghoul themselves didn’t want the suspicious personnel thrown out over it, then it must just be some ordinary, garden-variety double agency that honestly was the kind of thing that would get you into the WHAM ARMY if you put it on your résumé. Not anything that threatened the stability of the faction. So he decided not to question it.

            “…Back to what we were saying before,” Mozenrath said. “Strategy. We need strategy.”

            “Is this really worse than having Maleficent looming over our shoulder?” Yzma asked.

            “I would prefer not to have multiple other tyrants looking to horn in on our territory and slaughter our forces,” Mozenrath said flatly. “One is enough.”

            “Didn’t we also turn up intel that Lex Luthor has his own operation going on?” Discord said.

            “And was it REALLY a good idea to let that Pitch Black fellow get away without any record of where he scuttled off to in the shadows?” Quentin mused. “For all we know, this is the prelude to him showing up with his own legion of conquest.” He paused. “Legion of Conquest. That’s good.” Then he started searching himself for a pen and paper.

            “Can you NOT remind me of how many enemies we have?” Mozenrath growled. “The point is, out of all of them, right now, only ONE of them is interested in recreating the Keyblade War that could reset time and space itself. THAT’S the threat we target.”

            “I thought Luthor had the Anti-Life Equation at one point,” Discord chimed in. “Wouldn’t THAT be a bigger threat than the Keyblade War?”

            Mozenrath hadn’t even thought about that. It was actually true, but acknowledging that would mean that he wasn’t the smartest person at this gathering, so he outright said, “NO, IT WOULDN’T.”

            “Somebody’s bitter he didn’t think about the Anti-Life Equation first,” Wuya snarked.

            “WE’RE GOING AFTER XEHANORT!” Mozenrath said. “Now, if anyone has an actual PLAN – “

            “Yes!” said Snatcher. Then he fell silent.

            “…Are you going to enlighten us?” Mozenrath said.

            “Not yet,” Snatcher grumbled, eyes flicking toward the door.

            “Why n – no, I’m not even going to engage with this,” said Mozenrath. “Does anyone ELSE have an actual plan?”
            Discord put up his claw.

            “A plan where the endgame goal is to reduce the number of threats that are after us and has nothing to do with dessert, extreme sports, toy store conglomerates, or Internet piracy.”

            Discord put his claw right back down.

            “About what I’d expect from someone who watches the classics BACKWARDS,” Quentin said in a tone that was meant to mimic a mumble but obviously be audible.

            “I have no retort,” said Discord, “because that isn’t the insult you think it is.”

            “I’M CALLING YOU AN UNCULTURED PHILISTINE – “ Quentin began.

            Then the door was slammed open. “Did someone say ‘plan’?” said Deymos. “Or ‘strategy.’ One of the two.”

            “SEVERAL MOMENTS AGO,” Snatcher informed him. “We talked about this!”

            “So I slept in!” Deymos strode into the chamber, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, I woke up like THIS, for one thing. I’m sure you can find any number of starstruck fangirls who will agree with you.”

            “Yes, yes, we all have cults on the deep-web villain team worship forums where the weirdos of all the worlds come to argue that maybe we were right all along,” Wuya groaned. “What else is new?”

            “…We have?” Snatcher said. “I’ve not got one, to my knowledge – “

            “There’s gotta be at least one really obsessed chick out there,” Roman told him. “And I mean Inlustris-level obsessed.” He thought about the Twilight Town shopkeeper they kept in their employ. “Or, actually, just count her, probably.”

            “Ah, ONE fanatic,” Snatcher mumbled. “Everyone’s dream.”

            “Will you stop hair-flipping for the fangirls!” Yzma seethed. “We’re trying to have a strategy meeting – “

            “That you PROMISED you would show up to on time!” Vexen sighed. “Not that I particularly care, but Snatcher had all his cue cards lined up and ready to go!”

            “Okay, what – “ Mozenrath put up both his hands, palms out. “WHAT is going on here? I demand an explanation, and leave out ANYTHING that has to do with our interdimensional cult fanbases.”

            Snatcher sighed. “Mr. Deymos, Mr. Vexen, and I had a presentation aligned. Had he arrived on time, it would have proceeded as planned.”

            “And you couldn’t have told me ‘Wait just a minute so the slacker we invited can show up and pitch something that won’t work!’?” Mozenrath grumbled.

            “Of course they couldn’t,” said Quentin. “That would’ve ruined the entire entrance.”

            Neo pointed at Deymos accusingly.

            “Yeah, she’s right,” said Roman. “You already ruined the entrance by showing up late. Nice job.”

            Vexen gave a harsh sigh. “The point is, we are now all assembled, and we may present our idea.”

            “Well, good luck,” Mim said. “Mozenrath already decided he doesn’t like it, so now he won’t do it out of spite.”

            “That is NOT how I was going to react!” Mozenrath said out of spite in regard to that statement.

            “You might have a fighting chance after all,” Aghoul muttered.

            Vexen removed a small cube from his pocket, holding it out in his palm. He tapped it with the index finger of the opposite hand, and a light beamed from it, projecting a hologram onto a blank wall. The image was that of the WHAM ARMY home base.

            “Excuse you!” said Quentin. “That’s a Mysterio Productions Holo-Cube! And therefore, it’s copyright infringement!”

            “No, it’s a Zorg Industries Holo-Cube,” Vexen reminded him. “He holds the patent. NOT you.”

            Quentin was silenced, because Vexen was right and Quentin really just never seemed to remember that Zorg had been involved at all.

            “Allow me to present the strategy that may just be our salvation,” Vexen said, tapping the cube. Three words appeared overlaid on the image on the wall, and Vexen read them aloud with a smirk: “Project Luminary Uprise.”

            “Ooh!” Discord clapped. “You took the title from the lyrics of my favorite song!”

            “If you will, Archibald,” said Vexen.

            “Ladies and gentlemen,” Snatcher began, finally able to dig into the script he’d had stored away since the beginning of this gathering. “What, may I ask you, is the GREATEST threat to us? Who is TRULY the most powerful entity in this cosmic game of chess we are all playing?”

            “Xehanort,” Mozenrath said quickly. “Keyblade War.”

            “The Anti-Life Equation,” said Wuya.

            “Why do I feel like Maleficent is going to use both of these things as a diversion to keep us from noticing a power grab she makes right under our noses?” Yzma chimed in.

            “Because she is,” said Mim.

            “Wrong, wrong, and wrong again!” Snatcher said with a grin. “Because at the end of the day, when a threat rises, WHAT puts it down? I think we all know who we least like to see turn up to turn the tide of a situation. May I present to you…”

            Tap. The image changed, showing off a familiar group:

            “Those who call themselves…the HEROES.”

            Sora, Ruby Rose, Stork, Rapunzel, Kazuichi Soda, Katara, Papyrus, Riku, and Kairi were all in frame, though it seemed that the image had been taken from across a busy Radiant Garden square while the hero group was out shopping, and half of them had their backs turned, completely unaware, while the others were holding up merchandise to discuss with one another. Sora in particular seemed to be trying to convince Riku that one or the other of them needed a gaudy, funny hat.

            “We took this on recon,” Deymos explained. “Had to be discreet so they didn’t notice we were on their trail.”

            “Their persistence, their willpower, their sheer…moral fortitude leads them to turn up time and time again in the darkest of circumstances,” Snatcher said. “Any and all we’ve mentioned tonight, they would see as a challenge to circumvent.”

            “And they pack a punch in power, too,” said Deymos. “I personally can vouch for Sora.”

            “I think most of us can at this point,” Roman pointed out.

            “Yeah, but they put in the no-kill clause before you guys,” Deymos told him. “Me? No such luck.”

            “You’re not special because you died,” Roman told Deymos.

            “I think everyone who died is special!” said Aghoul.

            Mozenrath was regarding the thesis statement of the presentation, mulling it over. It was true that Sora and his friends had a habit of turning the tide in their favor no matter how drastically the odds were stacked against them. Even when they hadn’t managed to save the goddess Amaterasu from WHAM ARMY blades and had subsequently and very stupidly put the Book of Prophecies into the hands of the WHAM ARMY (and, by extension, the Overtakers), they’d managed to run almost complete damage control on the ensuing apocalypse, and Amaterasu’s homeworld had a shiny new Luma to act as its stand-in sun goddess to boot. “Maybe they are the predictable victors. Still, I don’t see why naming yet another threat helps us deal with any of the existing ones.”

            “Oh, I beg to differ,” said Snatcher. “After all, how is it we win a competition? With the strongest players, of course! What if these do-gooders…worked for US?”

            Vexen started tapping the cube again, showing off several pages of lab notes and specs from one particular older project of this. “Xemnas of course had this idea long beforehand, which was why he ordered me to replicate Sora in the form of No. i. Unfortunately, as impressive as Xion turned out, trying to forge our own replacement was no substitute.” The scenes changed to blueprints of Castle Oblivion. “As much as I hate to give Marluxia credit, he saw this truth as it was. His goal was to wipe Sora’s memory and take him as a blank-slate warrior to turn on Xemnas. Of course, the reason he failed to do this is because he is Marluxia, and because he killed off the brains of his outfit in the final act of his entire show.”

            “Yeah, but weren’t you threatening to blow the lid off his conspiracy?” Deymos recalled.

            “Precisely,” Vexen said. “Perhaps if he’d treated me with a little more RESPECT, I wouldn’t have had to take such lengths, and he would not have had to respond in kind.”

            “We all could’ve treated you with more respect,” said Deymos. “Seriously. The one guy who could actually make a new Sora from scratch and we flushed him down the toilet.”

            “They similarly were unkind to our most effective reconnaissance agent,” Vexen stated, looking Deymos in the eye.

            Neo gagged.

            “I’m with her,” said Roman. “Can we can the mushy stuff?”

            “You’re one to talk,” Vexen told him. “At least when Deymos and I exchange compliments, it is not laden with disgusting innuendo, unlike the conversations of SOME I could mention.”

            “Asexual couples,” Deymos said as if presenting the concept in a commercial. “More than your average yaoi!”

            “I’m sorry, did you just call our actual relationship AVERAGE YAOI?” Roman snapped.

            “How DARE you say something so offensive!” Snatcher barked. Then he leaned in to whisper to Roman: “Erm. What precisely does that word – “

            “Trust me, it’s demeaning as fuck.”

            “I never said YOU were the average yaoi!” Deymos groaned. “I never said ANYONE here was!”

            “You sure as hell implied it!” Roman snapped.

            “Vex vagued you all on a different stage, and I made a generic joke about a generic genre! Sheesh!”

            “Doesn’t that word just mean relationships with two men, though?” Wuya mused.

            “Largely,” said the Huntsman. “If the men in question are fictional characters. Which we are not.”

            “Debatable,” Discord muttered quietly.

            “Actually, there’s plenty of discourse about whether the word is meant to refer to queer romance or a more catered sort of erotica, and how the definition differs based on what region of the world you’re even in,” said Quentin, “but I don’t think we need to get into the weeds on all that.”

            “Okay, we are NOT about to just breeze past the fact that Huntsy knows what yaoi is,” Deymos said.

            “Trust me,” Huntsman told him, “there are manga pages I wish I could erase from my – “

            “WHEN DID YOU READ MANGA OF ANY GENRE, LET ALONE THE SPICY STUFF?” Deymos’ jaw dropped.

            “When succubi and incubi began drawing it and not being subtle about their authorship,” the Huntsman grumbled.

            “That actually makes sense,” Mozenrath realized.

            Then Roman slapped Deymos.

            “OW!”

            “I would suggest you take it back,” Roman growled.

            “Okay, fine.” Deymos rubbed at his face, where a bruise was growing. “But you – “

            “But you will NOT touch him again,” Vexen seethed with the wrath of a howling blizzard.

            “Deal,” said Roman.

            “I take back the Y-word,” Deymos said. “Happy?”

            “Though I would agree with Deymos’ assessment that those of us who do not regularly practice in debauchery have a certain superiority over those who do,” Vexen said with a smirk.

            “BINGO!” Discord yelled.

            “I’m glad you agree!” Vexen told him.

            “No, I mean I got bingo.” Discord turned a paper card to face Vexen. “I made this before the meeting, but I didn’t expect this to fill up this fast.”

            The card was stamped over squares that read ALFRED HITCHCOCK, SLUT-SHAMING, EROTIC DOUJINSHI, QUENTIN INFRINGES ZORG’S COPYRIGHT, and FREE SPACE.

            “I can’t believe we’re already that predictable,” Mim said.

            “But that’s what makes these gatherings fun, isn’t it?” Aghoul pointed out.

            (Despite all the barbs traded, everyone in attendance was at least a little bit amused by it all.)

            “If we’re done with the…yaoi debate,” Mozenrath sighed, “I want to know exactly how we’re planning to get the heroes to work for us.”

            That put Vexen, Snatcher, and Deymos back in the presentation mindset. “The other problem that Xemnas and Marluxia ran into, of course, was trying to begin with mind control,” Vexen stated. “We suggest a subtler approach. Plant the seeds of manipulation, draw our unwitting pawns ever closer by preying upon their gentle natures, and then ensnare them by only using force at the last possible moment.”

            “It is of course my experience that many a man will do many an awful deed if merely persuaded to believe that it is for the greater good,” Snatcher said with a proud grin. “Two such men spent ten years under my thrall in that manner.”

            “Longer than Xemnas or Marluxia had either of their respective Soras,” Vexen pointed out.

            “Question,” said Discord. “I understand how you got Trout and Pickles to agree to mass kidnapping and racially motivated hate crimes, but how did you convince them to go along with literally dropping a boy into a bonfire?”

            “It was to my understanding that they expected a falsified production with an effigy,” Snatcher stated. “Mr. Pickles went to all the trouble of bringing a false mustache. Idiots, the both of them, and I’m all the better off having traded up to the current arrangement.”

            There was a pause. Then, awkwardly, Quentin asked, “Will we. Um. Get to wear fake mustaches for this operation? Just asking.”

            Snatcher began to wonder how far up he’d actually traded.

            “We intend to lure in Sora and his companions with a ruse,” Vexen said. “After all, many of them have hope that at least one of us can be rehabilitated. If one of us should have an APPARENT change of heart…an incredibly convincing actor…”

            “I see where this is going.” Quentin puffed out his chest. “You want me to play the part of the redeemed villain in order to get them to lower their guard. And let me tell you, you couldn’t have cast a better lead – “

            “Actually, it’s me who’s gonna be doing it,” said Deymos.

            “Wh – why YOU?” Quentin asked. “You don’t have the years of theatrical training I do! You don’t have the repertoire of classic film and theater to draw upon! Have you ANY sense of the logical progression of a redemption arc?”

            “I mean, you probably would be the better pick,” said Deymos. “I mean, you are the most talented guy here. Which is why we have to save you for the bigger and badder role. We’re gonna need more actors in this than just a mole, and we can’t just waste our best guy on the mole role. You’d be bored with it anyway. Playing the good guy, I mean. You’d have to be all humble and stuff. Which you could totally do, but would you enjoy it? I’m looking out for you here, man.”

            Quentin placed a hand over his heart. “…You’re right. I WOULD prefer a more flamboyant role. How considerate of you!”

            Deymos snapped dual finger guns at him: “And THAT’S why I’m playing infiltrator.”

            “Wait.” Quentin figured it out. “Did you just – “

            “Play up the nice-guy act to remind you how good I am at it?” Deymos said smugly. “You actually thought I was doing this for YOU for a minute there. Wow.”

            “However, he wasn’t wrong,” Snatcher said quickly. “We WILL have other roles to play that require Mr. Beck’s particular brand of theatricality. After all, we’ve got to convince the others that Mr. Deymos is one of them. What better way to do that than to have him defend them against a supposed common enemy?”
            “Oh, I like where THIS is going,” Quentin said with a chuckle.

            “But we can get into the minutiae later,” Vexen said. “The point is that the plan is simple. Send in Deymos as a supposedly ‘redeemed’ member of the WHAM ARMY to weaken the heroes’ defenses. Then, when their walls have come down enough, we strike.”

            “And striking involves what exactly?” Mozenrath asked.

            Vexen put away the holo-cube and held out a deck of cards with jagged edges. “Why, a little adjustment to their memories, of course,” he said with a wicked grin. “We’ve already crafted backstories for very particular potential pawns.”

            “Which means I’m going to making a few suggestions for Sora to expand the faction,” Deymos said. “And trust me…he won’t want to turn these down. All I’ll be doing is driving more powerhouses into our corner.”

            “And thus…” Vexen pocketed the cards. “Project Luminary Uprise.”

            “Entanglement broke!” Discord started singing. “Unsophisticated clockwise, holiday way smoke…”

            “Well?” Snatcher asked. “What do we think?”

            After a long pause where many glances were exchanged, Neo gave a shrug.

            “She’s right,” said Mozenrath. “There’s no reason we can’t at least pursue it as one route of action. Couldn’t hurt anything.”

            “Yes!” Deymos pumped his fist. “The operation is a go!”

            “Are there any questions?” Vexen asked.

            Mim had been waiting for this: “Why, yes! Hadn’t there been speculation that Archibald is, in fact, demisexual, suggesting that he is in fact on the asexual spectrum, making him an ‘ace traitor’ to Vexen and Deymos’ side by engaging in the aforementioned ‘debauchery,’ or maybe just blurring the line of where asexual superiority even would be if it existed?” A pause. “Also, I want to talk more about yaoi.”

            That was exactly the sentiment to suddenly get everyone arguing at once:
            “How dare you speculate on MY own sexuality – “

            “How long are you going to try and pretend you’re NOT?”

            “What do you MEAN ‘if it existed’ – “

            “There’s no such thing as an ‘ace traitor’!”

            “Stop SLUT-SHAMING! You’re not better than the rest of us!”

            “YES WE ARE – “

            “YAOI MEANS QUEER ROMANCE!”

            “IT MEANS SMUT FOR STRAIGHT GIRLS!”

            A sign held by Neo: “ITS DEFINITION IS HIGHLY CONTEXTUAL!”

            Loudest of all: “INCUBI SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED TO DRAW MANGA UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES!”

            Mim laughed louder and louder; this was exactly the outcome she’d wanted.

            Mozenrath watched his strategy meeting dissolve into utter chaos. Discord floated over to elbow him; “You know, if this operation, which we’re putting into the hands of these very capable associates of ours, fails, we could be looking at a Keyblade War we’re on the losing end of.” He giggled. “Isn’t that exciting? The odds are against us; we could fail at any moment!”

            “No pressure,” Mozenrath sighed.

Chapter Text

“So enlighten us,” Mozenrath asked. “How exactly are we breaking Deymos into the heroes’ ranks? I presume some manner of disguise will be necessary at first. That or we have to stage an event – “

            “Actually, I kiiiiind of have an in,” Deymos said. “There’s one of them that I kinda have a history with. She picked me up off Stardust Sweep when I was hitchhiking the multiverse after escaping the Labyrinth. She’s good people, which means she kinda bored me, but I know better than to burn a bridge.”

            “Our plan is, in fact, to stage an event that demonstrates Deymos’ apparent…betrayal and willingness to cooperate,” Snatcher said slyly, “but targeting one specific personage in particular.”

            “All we have to do is wait for her to – “ Vexen retrieved his scroll, giving its screen a glance. “…Hm.”

            “What?” Mozenrath asked.

            “I’ve been keeping tabs on her,” Vexen stated. “I was about to say that our cue would be when she is relatively isolated…but it seems that time is now.”

            “Well, then, what are we waiting for?” Quentin barked. “Actors in place! Get Deymos’ costuming touched up! Hand out the script! It’s time for lights! It’s time for cameras! It’s time for ACTION!”

            Beach Bowl Galaxy was, first and foremost, an anomaly. It had existed in a completely different worldline; after Bowser had inadvertently caused complete intergalactic collapse, Rosalina had found it necessary to make the sacrifice of the existing galaxies within the scope of the event in order to create a new timeline and begin again. It had been a sad event, but also one of rebirth, because each and every Luma that had shed its previous form in the old worldline had been repurposed somewhere else in the new.

            Yet it seemed that nostalgia could not escape Lumas, even if they weren’t technically supposed to remember anything about the old timeline. The old galaxies found themselves reforged, one by one, because the memories lay dormant within the Lumas’ hearts. They may not have been the exact same, but they were still instantly recognizable to Rosalina, mother of the Lumas, who remembered both timelines perfectly. Beach Bowl existed again, against all odds.

            She’d chosen this site to show to both of her girlfriends, as she could hardly think of a better place for a date. It was a self-contained, miniature ocean with a tiny coast of soft sand and climbing hills, plus a few surrounding satellites of unique composition. The weather over it was often perfectly blue and clear, and today was one such day. The sun lent it a comfortable warmth, while the water was perfectly cool, as the tropical penguins who splashed around in it could attest.

            Three beach loungers were set up on the soft sand, right next to where the waves softly lapped at the shore. Rosalina, wearing a turquoise one-piece bathing suit, got to take the center in her aqua-blue seat, which was the shortest of the three, owing to her own small height. To her left, the Keybearer Aqua, clothed in a navy blue one-piece, was trying to relax on a similarly colored but longer seat. It was clear that she wasn’t used to lying down for the sole purpose of sunbathing. To Rosalina’s right, on the longest beach lounger that was skinned in black silk, the Umbra Witch Bayonetta looked comfortable enough in her black bikini that if comfort could be spared, she could probably give some to Aqua and still be perfectly content. She had a raspberry lemonade in hand and sipped at it every now and again.

            “You don’t have to keep a vigil, you know,” Bayonetta said to Aqua with a wink.

            “Sorry.” Aqua lay back down on her seat.

            “…Or apologize,” Bayonetta said. “This is vacation, darling! Albeit a brief one.”

            “We just never really did this when training under the Master,” Aqua reminded the group.

            “Well, that’s because Master Eraqus was a stuffed shirt, and the stuffing was Lumen Sage bullshit,” Bayonetta said.

            Such things were hard for Aqua to hear. Master Eraqus had been her father figure, and she had respected him more than almost anyone else in the worlds at one point. But dark truths had come out regarding his obsession with the Light, and now that she knew why Terra had really struck him down, she had to admit that there was a lot about her life that wasn’t the way she’d initially perceived it. The very fact that Eraqus hadn’t let his wards experience things like trips to the beach was a red flag in and of itself.

            “…That was too far, wasn’t it?” Bayonetta realized. “Don’t mind me, Luce.” (This was the name that Bayonetta called Aqua. Her Light.) “You know I’m biased on matters given my own, well, daddy issues, to be frank.”

            “No, no, it’s okay,” Aqua replied. “I…need to have things put into perspective. And I need to learn how to actually let go and not worry about things.”

            “Well, either way, the mood’s been brought down quite harshly, and if no one minds, I intend to fix that,” Bayonetta said. “Now, I don’t know if this gossip has already made the rounds among the two of you, but it seems Luisa has found herself a prince charming.”

            Aqua immediately brightened. “Aeleus seems really happy around her. I think this could be good.”

            “Wait,” Rosalina said, sitting up. “I don’t know about this yet. Aeleus and Luisa Madrigal?”

            “They’ve been flirting like cats in heat, Stella!” Bayonetta laughed. (“Stella” being her word for Rosalina. Her star.) “You haven’t noticed?”
            “I mean, technically they are just friends right now,” said Aqua, “but I think I recognize all the signs. He’s more talkative around her, and she’s more quiet around him, like he’s more comfortable with her but she’s worried about saying the wrong thing to him. I think there’s a pretty good chance they could end up together. It’s…kind of hard to not want to help them get there.”

            “Don’t I know it,” Bayonetta sighed. “Would that I could spell it out for them, but we all know these things must happen in their own time.”

            “Luisa and Aeleus!” Rosalina repeated, beaming. “I think they would be wonderful for each other! They both have their roots in the earth, after all.”

            “Who better to shoulder her burdens than a muscle-bound hulk like him?” Bayonetta teased.

            “And who better to help Aeleus get in touch with his best self than someone with a big heart like her?” Aqua added.

            “Now you’ve got me wanting to play matchmaker,” Rosalina giggled. “Looks like we all have to refrain. But now I know what to keep my eyes on!”

            “At least Sadira and Dohalim didn’t beat around – “ Bayonetta began.

            But Aqua stood, pointing to the skies; “What’s that?”

            A Dark vortex had appeared high above the ocean waters. From it, a single human form dropped, plummeting like a stone until it splashed into the tiny sea.

            “We have to help!” Aqua cried, leaping out of her chair. Maybe vigilance had paid off after all. Bayonetta and Rosalina weren’t far behind.

            In fact, Bayonetta soon outpaced Aqua, rushing out to strike a pose on one of the sandbars in the midst of the water. She muttered an incantation, and her hair shaped itself into a very basic shape, the arms of the demon Madama Butterfly, before plunging into the water to wrap around the fallen body. She fished the mysterious man out quickly, and Rosalina soon had her wand drawn, rushing to the man’s side to cast a spell that pulled all residual seawater out of his lungs.

            “Hey!” Aqua yelled. “Are you all – “

            That was Deymos cue, now that he’d been rescued, to let out a belabored “Uuunnngghhhh…”

            Aqua recoiled. “YOU.”

            Rosalina, however, recognized him for a different reason. “You?”

            Deymos fluttered his eyes open, taking care to make it seem as though he’d really almost just died. “Ugh,” he grunted again. “You…really didn’t have to do that.”

            “It really is you,” Rosalina said softly. “How long has it been – “

            Aqua’s Keyblade blazed into her hand, pointed at Deymos’ body in Madama Butterfly’s arms. “Don’t trust him! He was one of Xemnas’ Organization XIII, and recorded as consorting with both Maleficent and Mozenrath’s forces!”

            “A shill who works for the highest bidder, then?” Bayonetta said with a quirked brow. She had half a mind to let Madama Butterfly just drop him onto the wet sand, but she wanted to hear him out first.

            “Was,” Deymos croaked. “The key word is ‘was.’”
            He worked himself out of the demonic, hair-swathed arms. After all, he got the feeling that he was on the verge of being dropped. He sat down on the sand on his own terms, crossing his legs. “What am I gonna do now?” he muttered. Then he looked up to Rosalina, pretending to only realize who she was for the first time. “Wait…Rosalina? Hey, what a coincidence!”

            “You turned to the forces of evil?” Rosalina said with concern.

            “What, guilty because you gave an interdimensional criminal a lift on your space station?” Deymos replied. “Don’t be. Actually, no, you probably should be, because right about now, I’m pretty sure my life would’ve been better off if I’d just gotten lost in the Gummi ocean.”

            “Well, aren’t you having a convenient little pity party,” said Bayonetta.

            “What are you accusing me of?” Deymos asked.

            “Hmm…not sure yet,” said Bayonetta, “but my Luce seems to think there are more to your motivations than you’re letting on.”

            “Motivations?” Deymos threw his hands out to either side. “I just got kicked out of the WHAM ARMY! All I got was a butt-kicking and a head start, and the next time I cross paths with any of those guys, I’m – “ He sliced a finger across his neck, making a gruesome sound effect in his mouth. “So in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not really MOTIVATED to do much of anything! I don’t even know what there is to be motivated to do now!”

            “Why would the WHAM ARMY have thrown you away?” Rosalina asked.

            “And why wouldn’t you go crawling up to Maleficent for help first?” Aqua asked.

            “Maleficent?” Deymos was genuinely confused. “Why would I – “

            Oh. They didn’t know about that part.

            “Wait. You’re behind on the lore, aren’t you? There’s two of me. No, it’s not a Heartless/Nobody thing, it’s a time duplicate. The Overtaker one is the one that’s originally supposed to be here, and then Mozenrath’s guys went back and picked me up so they could have one of me on their side.”

            “Is this one truly so talented as to be that hotly contested?” Bayonetta asked Aqua.

            Aqua and Deymos said “No” at the same time.

            “But apparently, they thought I had something to offer,” Deymos said. “I guess the first me is a whole lot more confident or something. But I’m not him, and I have no idea why HE turned out so competent. It hardly tracks.”

            “Something happened,” Rosalina said. “Something that caused them to turn on you.”

            “Stella,” Bayonetta warned. “Be careful.”

            “Please, ‘Lina,” Aqua whispered.

            They both knew that Rosalina had a tendency to try and see the good in others. Not as much as certain skeletons or air monks they knew, but still enough that it was possible for her to put too much trust in the wrong person.

            “Yeah,” Deymos grumbled. “Something happened, all right. I realized just how in over my head I was. You don’t need to know the details. Just that they had an evil scheme brewing, and I underestimated how evil they were willing to get. Or maybe I overestimated how evil I was willing to get.”

            He had a backstory locked and loaded, but he knew better than to give it all at once. It would sound incredibly scripted. Because it was. No, the details had to come out slowly, one at a time, at the proper moment.

            “What happened to you?” Rosalina asked.

            “Not in the mood to talk about it,” Deymos grumbled. “After all, contrary to what some people here might think, it’s not the pity party hour.”

            Bayonetta rolled her eyes.

            He wasn’t surprised that they didn’t trust him. Truth was, he wasn’t even laying it on as thick as he could have…and that was also part of the point. Too drastic of a switch and they’d never believe him. He had to make it look like something the “Demyx” they knew would still do and say.

            “Wait a minute!” His eyes widened as he pretended to only get the idea for the first time. “They’re gonna kill me if they find me…but you guys can protect me! Right? You can keep them away!”

            Aqua, Rosalina, and Bayonetta all looked between each other. Then Aqua said “We would always protect the innocent who needed it…but…”

            “You want me to offer something in return?” Deymos babbled. “I’ll give you anything you want! Information! The whole roster of who’s on WHAM! A layout of the lair! I could probably sneak back in and grab an item or two! Actually, wait. Bad idea. They’ll up their security system big-time to recognize me. But I could tell you what they WOULD go after next! …Mostly banks and world government centers, which you probably figured out on your own…”

            That changed the game. Even if Aqua and Bayonetta didn’t yet trust Deymos, they did know better than to just turn away a source of potential information without vetting it first.

            “How would we know that what you’re saying is the truth?” Aqua asked.

            “I swear!” Deymos replied. “I swear on my mother’s grave! And on my dad’s! They’re both dead, so I can double-swear for double the honesty!”

            “It looks like we at least have to take this into consideration,” said Bayonetta. “If he isn’t a plant to feed us false information, he could give us something useful.”

            “…We did give Isa a second chance,” Aqua said. “And probably the only difference is that he had Lea to vouch for him.”

            “I PROMISE I’ll behave,” Deymos said in a perfect replication of desperation. “I’ll be the good guy! I’ll do charity work! Community service! I’ll fight Heartless for you! Big ones! …Medium ones. Make it medium ones. But anything, just so long as you stop them from finding me!”

            “We can’t just abandon him,” Rosalina said.

            “If he is telling the truth,” Bayonetta agreed, “then walking away would be rather horrible, wouldn’t it? Against Cinnamon code.”

            “Okay,” said Aqua. “But you have to understand that you’re…hard to trust, given the circumstances.”

            “I get it!” Deymos said. “I totally get it. But you guys are my last hope! And…honestly…” He sighed. “I’m tired of it, okay? All the big evil stuff where people get hurt and die and suffer. I thought it was worth getting what I wanted, but it’s just not. I could just live out my days as a petty thief in Twilight Town. Or, y’know, not even steal anything. I could just mind my own business.”

            The reference was intentional, to get them all thinking about the faction of petty thieves in Twilight Town that they were on good terms with. To plant the idea in their heads that Deymos really was no worse than Harley Quinn or Giovanni Potage.

            “If you really have changed your heart,” Rosalina said, “then we would welcome you with open arms.”

            “But we need the proof in the pudding first,” Bayonetta said sternly.

            “I getcha completely,” Deymos told her.

            “I just…have a hard time believing that the young man I found hitchhiking in the stars would ever be given to harming others,” Rosalina said.

            She’d been wrong then. She was wrong now. And Deymos couldn’t laugh about it externally without blowing his cover.

            “But we’ll have to be gradual about this,” said Aqua. “I think…you should stay here until further notice.”

            “Ah – you JUST said you wouldn’t abandon me!” Deymos argued.

            “We wouldn’t be abandoning you,” Rosalina clarified. “Did your employers drop you off here intentionally?”

            “Nah, I got thrown into the void,” Deymos said. “Basically played world roulette. They have no idea where I am, nor do they care unless they happen to see my face again.”

            “Then this galaxy should be relatively safe,” said Rosalina. “I will give you a means of communication to contact me directly. If the safety of this galaxy is compromised, then don’t hesitate to use it. I can be here in a mere instant.”

            “It’s gonna be so much safer to know you’re in my pocket,” Deymos told her. “Your phone, I mean.”

            “And this little world is practically paradise,” Bayonetta told him. “Perfect weather more often than not, all the pleasures of the seaside…”

            “And the penguins for company,” Rosalina added. “They can help you to find shelter.”

            Deymos’ smile froze. He really wasn’t looking forward to having penguins for roommates. They looked so cutesy and annoying.

            He quickly found his voice: “The penguins? Aww, they look so cutesy and endearing!”

            “This world being relatively rural will mean it’s a perfect sanctuary,” Aqua agreed.

            “Yeah,” said Deymos. “So, uh…I take it I’m not trusted enough yet to actually live next to you guys on any of the civilized worlds, huh?”

            “Not in the slightest,” Bayonetta affirmed, and Aqua shook her head along with her.

            “Eh…it’ll work.” Deymos shrugged. “So, uh, do you three have to get going already, or…”

            “I’m quite curious to know what sort of information you have,” Bayonetta told him, “but I’m not certain we’re at the stage to trade it.”

            “Well, uh…” He looked to Rosalina. “What’ve you been up to since we split up, huh? I bet you come here a lot with the gal pals.”

            He knew they were far more than friends. But he didn’t want to tip his hand. As a reconnaissance expert, he knew far more about all three of them than they could suspect he knew.

            “Gal pals!” Bayonetta laughed. “Oh, dear, I think you misunderstand!”

            “We’re in a relationship,” said Aqua. “All three of us.” She blushed a little as she smiled – back home in the Land of Departure, neither the idea of dating multiple people nor of dating someone of the same gender would have been smiled upon. Here, so far away from that, she was free to pursue who she loved, and she felt blessed that two such women had come into her life.

            “Ooh, score,” Deymos said. “So, like…childhood friend trio-to-lovers or what?”

            “Well, Aqua and I met first,” Rosalina explained. “I accompanied Sora on a voyage to the Realm of Darkness to rescue her from her slumber in time.”

            “Then we ran into Bayonetta when we had to go back into the Realm of Darkness again for a different incident,” Aqua said.

            “I was there quite by coincidence, but I’m glad I was,” Bayonetta stated. “Apparently, these two, already going strong and steady, BOTH walked away with a little crush on me. And who was I to say no to a date? Now I couldn’t even think of getting too far from my Stella and my Luce.”

            “Star and light,” Deymos translated. “Nice. Anyway, you three are some lucky girls. Especially the suspicion squad here.” He gestured to Aqua and Bayonetta before looking back at Rosalina; “This isn’t relevant to anything anymore, but I did think you were pretty while we were traveling together. I’m just saying.”

            They didn’t need to know that his attraction scope didn’t include women at all, nor that he found Rosalina’s aesthetic completely trite.

            She laughed. “I’m flattered. And I know there’s a special someone out there waiting for you, too.”

            Yeah, Deymos thought. His name’s Vexen, and I’m going to have so much to dish to him the minute you three leave.

            “Why don’t we take this conversation back to the beach?” Bayonetta asked.

            “Yeah,” said Deymos.

            “You probably need to dry out,” Aqua pointed out.

            Deymos stood and flicked his hands outward; the water that had soaked through his rocker-inspired clothing left the fabric in a shower of droplets that flew their way back into the ocean. “Good call,” he said.

            “Impressive,” Bayonetta complimented.

            They returned to the sands, sitting in as much of a circle as you could make with four people. “We know you as Demyx,” Aqua said. “Is that the name we should call you now?”

            “No,” Deymos said without missing a beat. “You know the whole Organization anagram thing. …It’s ‘Myed.’”

            (Demy, Ydem, Medy, Dyme, Myde – he’d used every combo of them that could be unscrambled during his trips across the worlds. Made him less easy to track. “Deymos” was the real one, but you wouldn’t know that unless he trusted you immensely or you knew just a little bit too much about either Atlantican history or the failed successors of the Goblin King. Of course, “Myed” wasn’t one he was particularly proud of, since it sounded a bit awkward, but it was the one he’d given Rosalina, and he needed to maintain continuity.)

            “I remember now.” Rosalina smiled. “Tell me – what has happened to you since we parted ways?”

            “I mean, I spent a couple years being pressed into service by evil organizations that practically tortured me until I wanted out.” Deymos sounded sincerely grave about this. “But who hasn’t?”

            “Mmhmm.” Aqua’s tone betrayed that she still doubted him. As she should. Deymos was expecting her to be the last one to let down her defenses.

            “But enough about me,” he said. “I wanna know about you. What’ve you been up to since the good old days, huh? Road tripping through the stars?”

            “Why, actually, a lot has happened,” Rosalina laughed. “You see…”

            Then she began to launch into what, to Deymos, was a very boring story about some out-of-work plumber who’d traveled a hundred galaxies in order to stop a giant lizard from blowing up the multiverse or something like that. By the time Rosalina mentioned convergent timelines, he realized he should’ve been listening to that part, because that might’ve been cool, but it was too late, and he zoned back out as she got into the part of the story that involved rabbits and some curse taking over her body and a sassy British robot. And apparently now that home repairman was on some quest involving a rainbow crown and a bunch of absolute losers. (Wait a minute, hadn’t he heard some reports from the WM Dark, home to the WHAM ARMY’s Atlantean contact, about something like that? Surely the WHAM ARMY had the more interesting intel on file back home.)

            And then the three women were telling the story of how they got together, and they were obviously more interested in telling it to each other than to Deymos based on how they laughed and met each other’s eyes while practically ignoring him. And then, finally, Rosalina was done yapping about her backstory.

            “That was SO interesting!” Deymos replied. “I can’t believe any of that happened! I mean the part when – and then that one thing – and the rabbits? Wow. Just wow!”

            “Rabbids, with a D,” Bayonetta told him. “Were you even paying attention?”

            “Uh, duh.”

            “I’m just ribbing you.” She gave him a light shove. “Don’t take everything so seriously. If you’re going to run with us, that’s a must.”

            Her strength must have been superhuman, because that light shove actually left a bit of a bruise. Deymos was reminded of exactly what kind of powerhouses he was dealing with here. If they caught on to his true plan, he was sure he could expect to be on the receiving end of 100 megatons of iron maidens and hair demons.

            Except these heroes had sworn an oath not to kill. Which wouldn’t stop Bayonetta. She’d just find a way to do it and make sure he survived. Which was arguably worse.

            “So what do you do for fun around here?” Deymos asked. “Sand castles? Surfing? Do the waves in this puddle even get good enough for surfing?”

            “Now hold on,” Bayonetta told him. “We’re not on good enough terms – “

            “Bayonetta,” Rosalina said softly. “The way to get to those better terms may be to nurture his spirit after all he’s been through.”

            Bayonetta and Aqua looked to one another and sighed. No way could they refuse Rosalina when she had that sparkly-eyed expression.

            “We do have shell races,” Aqua said tentatively. “You know, take the discarded Koopa shells that are lying around here and let them propel you through the water. Everyone takes a green or a red to make sure there’s no cheating.”

            Deymos already knew that red shells had far more propulsion power. “Uh-huh. Sounds fair. You know, I could REALLY use a chance to unwind.”

            “Then a race it shall be!” Rosalina declared. “I say three laps around the perimeter.”

            “Last one in’s a rotten Koopa egg!” Deymos was immediately on his feet and bolting toward the nearest green shell.

            He was counting on Bayonetta and Aqua being so competitive – and Rosalina being so immersed in the fun of the competition – that they would get tunnel vision toward grabbing their own shells. They dove into the clear water, bearing bright green shells that started to act as propulsion engines using magical energy, while Deymos lagged just a step behind.

            Deymos let the green shell fall out of his hands and kicked a blazing red one up into his grip. Then he dove in, ready to smoke the competition.

            It was nice, getting to lap the trio with the faster shell when they didn’t have time to examine what he was holding. (Though Aqua and Bayonetta did notice he was rocketing along twice as fast, and that caused them both to wonder.) For most of the course, he was in the lead and reveled in it.

            That would have to be the laurels he rested on, because just before the finish line, he let the shell slide right out of his hands and shoot off into the center of the bowl-shaped ocean. He made a pantomime show of frantically searching around for a replacement, but made no move to actually grab one. Bayonetta caught up to him and passed the finish, then Aqua, and then finally Rosalina. Only then did Deymos use his water power to bring a shell to him in less than a second before blasting across the finish line.

            The sun was only just beginning to set, a light watercolor streak of pink in the sky. The four of them laughed as they exited the water and slopped up onto the sand, falling back into place in their four-point, squarish circle. “Aw, man!” Deymos said between laughs, trying to strike a perfect balance between frustration and being a good sport. “I really thought I had ya there!”

            “And you almost did!” Rosalina giggled. “I guess we’ll just have to try again sometime.”

            Bayonetta and Aqua exchanged looks again, clearly still not won over and clearly suspicious of the events that had taken place during the race.

            “Look,” Deymos sighed. “I know you still don’t trust me. I get it. I wouldn’t trust me either. I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust.”

            “That’s what worries me, darling,” Bayonetta said condescendingly.

            “I know you’re about to ask us to take you to one of our strongholds to use as a safehouse,” Aqua said. “But that’s a risk we just can’t take.”

            “I mean, do you have any…midpoint safehouses?” Deymos asked. “Someplace you could stash me without having to let me all the way into your house.”

            Of course, if they could loosen up enough to bring him to the goods right away, that would be the best possible outcome, but he knew it was also the impossible one.

            “Hmm…” Rosalina thought about it. “Actually…this beach.”

            “Really?” Aqua asked. “I mean…that would work. He already knows it’s here, and it’s out of the way. Nobody tried to follow him here, so it doesn’t look like any of his fr – his assoc – of his enemies know where he is.”

             “So, what, I sleep on the sand?” Deymos asked flatly.

            Aqua sighed. “I guess you need this more than me, so…”

            She got up and started walking over to her beach bag, a bright aqua canvas number that could hold far more items on the inside than it looked like. “I can give you a camping set. I have a few too many anyway. I kind of overstocked.” Did he really need to know that? She cursed herself out mentally for getting too friendly. “It’ll be a comfortable place to spend the night.”

            “Actually, you didn’t have to get up!” Rosalina was already rushing toward her own bag, which was smaller and sparklier, but still had the same magically extended amount of space on the inside. “I’ll give him one of mine. I have Starling-made tents, which are invisible from the outside. If someone tracks him here, it could buy him time or even keep them from finding him at all.”

            “Good old ‘Lina!” Deymos cheered. “I knew you’d come through for me!” And a Starling-made tent? Compared to a Keybearer-standard camping set, that was practically a five-star accommodation!

            “For the record,” Bayonetta said, “I wasn’t opposed to the ‘sleep on the sand’ idea. It could be far worse, you know.”

            “Thanks a whole lot,” Deymos said sarcastically. “Small wonder how a kind, loving, pure cinnamon roll like you ended up with those two.”

            “If you’re attempting to guilt me over something, I hope you know that I’m already well-self-aware and don’t care,” Bayonetta replied with a satisfied smile.

            Rosalina and Aqua came back with the rolled-up tent, which was Rosalina’s signature turquoise-bordering-on-aqua color. “Thanks,” Deymos said as he took it into his hands and cradled it like it was his whole world. “…No, really, I mean it.” His tone got quiet. “Don’t get me wrong, I was gonna try everything in the book to get you to stick your necks out for me, but you really don’t have to, and I really, REALLY don’t deserve it after everything I’ve done. You three really are the good guys. Honestly makes me feel like a load of trash.” He stared down at his tent. “Not even sure I should accept this, but let’s be real: I want to live. So…thanks for letting me.”

            (The next time Quentin Beck held the Mysteri-Oscars ceremony for the best actors in the WHAM ARMY, Deymos felt, he should definitely win one for this.)

            “Oh, you don’t have to get all weepy,” Bayonetta groaned. “Of course we’re not going to let someone in need get left behind. Provided you’re telling the truth, but there’s hardly enough evidence one way or the other just yet.”

            “We want to make sure you’re safe,” Rosalina said sweetly. “After all, everyone deserves a second chance.”

            Aqua was quiet, looking off over the sea. Deymos guessed she was actually starting to feel guilty, herself, for not immediately wanting to trust him. “And more importantly,” she muttered, “we’re not sticking out our necks. This is the least risky plan for you AND for us.”

            “You’re right, ‘Lina,” Deymos said. “Everyone does deserve a second chance. After all, it’s way easier than you think to fall to Darkness. Sometimes, we just need a light to lead us back out.”

            Aqua flinched.

            His choice of words had been very curated. She thought he didn’t know about Terra. Well, he knew everything. Including the altered state Terra had come back in when she’d finally found him. He knew it had to haunt her, every day, that it had happened on her watch.

            “…You’re right,” Aqua said softly. “I won’t let anyone else get lost in the Darkness. Not again.”

            “Again?” Deymos pretended to be clueless. “Did something happen before or – actually, not my business. Anyway…you three should probably get back to collab with the council about what comes next.”

            “Be assured we will,” said Bayonetta. “But there won’t be pulling the wool over the eyes of some of our more seasoned leaders.”

            She hated to admit that the silly, unkempt Merlin had the edge on her in several respects, but she knew that in this case, he’d be better at judging Deymos’ character.

            “Stay safe,” Rosalina told him. “Farewell.”

            Then the three of them were gone, hitching rides with sparkly little Lumas that whisked them up, up, and away, leaving Deymos behind. The first thing he did was pitch his newly acquired tent, which did in fact turn invisible the moment it was set up. Not that he needed it to. So he marked an X in the sand right outside its entry flap before walking inside.

            Like the beach bags, this tent was much bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside. (This wouldn’t have been the case for Aqua’s camping set.) Instead of a sleeping bag, it contained a miniature bed, plush and purple, almost a replica of the one in Rosalina’s master bedroom back on the Observatory. There were also a nightstand, a truncated vanity with a mirror, and an assortment of throw rugs and pillows. Star-shaped lamps cast cozy light on the inside of the tent. It was a tiny slice of paradise, built for the ultimate sleeping experience when away from home.

            “I could get used to this,” Deymos said with a grin.

            Then he re-emerged onto the beach, getting a look around at his new…roommates. Galaxy-mates? The penguins. They were hard at play, splashing around here and there, one of them surfing on the back of a manta ray, several of them diving and swimming in synchrony under the watchful eye of the largest penguin. Was that one in charge? Deymos made a mental note to stay away from him, just in case.

            Of course, the longer he looked, the more it seemed like that penguin was less of a tribe leader and more of a sports coach, but better safe than sorry.

            “Hey!”

            Deymos flinched before turning around. One such penguin had waddled up behind him. “New friend!” the penguin greeted, raising a flipper to wave.

            Deymos wanted to make it very clear where he and this penguin stood, but this penguin would report on anything mean he did or said when Rosalina came back, so he forced a smile. “Hi there…buddy.”

            “What’s your name?” the penguin asked.

            Yeah, the more people he got acclimated to this alias, the better. “Me? I’m – “

            “Where’d you come from?” the penguin continued. “Why did you come here? Do you like swimming?”

            “Well, if you’d let me answer the – “

            “Are you friends with Mama Rosalina? Do you know Bowser? What’s your favorite kind of coconut – “

            “HEAT STROKE!”

            Deymos’ rage had been building and building. And it was pretty hard to get him mad, but these incessant questions in the most annoying, squeaky little voice he could image were doing the job. But he knew he couldn’t just blow up on Rosalina’s little informants. So instead, he yelled, “I’m totally having heat stroke! I gotta get to the shade! Sorry, REALLY loving this conversation, but gotta go!”

            He scurried far further up the beach, plopping down in the shadow of an elongated, crooked palm tree. “Finally,” he sighed, summoning his sitar into his hands in a rush of bubbles. “Now the only noise I have to worry about is what I make.”

            He began to play a jaunty little tune, vowing to make the most of this exile in paradise, when all of a sudden, the penguin returned, and brought friends, all of whom were babbling excitedly –

            “NEW FRIEND! NEW FRIEND!”

            “HOW DO YOU KNOW MAMA ROSALINA?”

            “WHERE’D YOU LEARN TO PLAY THE UKULELE?”

            “WHAT SONG WAS THAT?”

            “CAN YOU PLAY A THEME SONG FOR BEACH BOWL GALAXY?”

            “HAVE YOU EVER KISSED A PENGUIN?”

            “DO YOU WANNA – “

            “AaaaaAAAAGH!” Deymos leaned over and faceplanted into the sand, hoping that if he kept his eyes buried and couldn’t see the penguins, that would mean the penguins weren’t there. “Do you pester Rosalina this much?”

            He then heard a chatter of concerned penguin noises. Then, footsteps that were obviously being made by something much larger than your average penguin. Deymos chanced a look up to see who had approached.

            It was, in fact, a larger-than-average penguin.

            “I’m sorry, really,” Deymos muttered, “but I’m all tired out from running for my life and I do NOT have the time to answer all your questions. I’m gonna need to take a rain check…like…Idlesday the 9^th!”

            Joke’s on them. Idlesday could only ever be a date divisible by five. Idlesday the 9^th didn’t exist.

            The large penguin put up a flipper to wave away his smaller minions, and they backed off respectfully. Deymos recognized the penguin as the one he had earlier pegged as some kind of penguin sports coach. He decided to internally refer to this penguin as “Coach,” which was good, because that was actually his name.

            “Sorry these fellas were botherin’ ya,” Coach said. “They’re slackin’ off from training, too! All right, everybody, back in the water! We have drills to run if we want to be the best aqua-athletes in the water galaxies!”

            The penguins all grumbled as they obeyed.

            “And by the best,” Coach clarified, “I mean the ones that have the most fun. How can we have fun with aquabatics if we’re pestering someone who’s clearly annoyed?”

            “I’m not annoyed!” Deymos said, because of course he was worried about this getting back to Rosalina. Except he was very obviously annoyed, so that wasn’t going to work. “Okay, fine, I’m a bit annoyed. Maybe.”

            “You know, if you need fun to take your mind off everything goin’ on, you’re welcome to join us,” Coach said. “Or you could stay here and play your ukulele.”

            Deymos’ hackles went up at the second mention of the word “ukulele.” “I’m…good. Thanks.”

            “Well, let me know if ya change yer mind.” Coach began to waddle back down to the water. “Might get ya less uptight, y’know.”

            “UPTIGHT?” Even when Deymos was at his most conniving, he never liked to be thought of as anything but lax, go-with-the-flow, without a care in the world. This was now beyond what Rosalina thought of him; he needed to change what these penguins thought of him. And luckily, he was pretty good at wearing different faces. “…Yeah. You’re right. I could stand to unwind, actually.”

            He got up and trailed after Coach, his posture less straight and his gait slower. “What kind of sports do you do around here, anyway?”

            “Well, there’s shell racing,” Coach said. “Oh, and there’s ray surfing, too.”

            Deymos had already been shell racing. “What’s ray surfing?”

            “Why, I’ll show ya, pal!”

            Deymos followed Coach to a sandbar off the coast, and Coach made a particular trill, putting up a wing to wave. It wasn’t long before a deep purple manta ray with a saccharine smile bobbed up from the waters below. Its tail was long and wagged like a dog’s. Deymos wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

            “This here’s Ray!” Coach introduced.

            “How original,” Deymos snarked. Then, realizing he was supposed to be in character: “No, really, that’s SO original! It’s…self-referential and ironically unironic! Love it!”

            “Now, when you wanna surf, you step out on his back,” Coach said. “Don’t worry; he’s pretty strong!”

            Deymos shrugged before kicking off his shoes and stepping onto the manta’s back. As with most manta rays, Ray’s skin was squishy and soft, like one of those gel insoles that Deymos lined his shoes with daily to avoid feeling any wear or tear whatsoever.

            “Now, you just lean the way you want him to go,” Coach went on.

            Deymos tilted his weight to the left. Ray sensed it and turned to match his whim. Pretty simple. “So…if I were to do this…”

            By leaning ever so slightly in the desired directions in sequence, Deymos spurred Ray to make a loop in the water, breezing by Coach so fast that the large penguin found himself splashed with water. Coach laughed; all in good fun. “You’ve got it down! Why don’t you do a couple laps around the bay?”

            “You got it, boss!” Deymos saluted. “You should go check on our teammates to make sure they’re actually sticking to the practice regimen!”

            “Right,” Coach realized. “I should!”

            Deymos and Ray zoomed all around the bay as the sun went down, bathing Beach Bowl Galaxy in a star-studded night. Actually, ray surfing really was fun, and Deymos appreciated the chance to reconnect with his element. He especially appreciated it when the penguins packed up for the night and moved to the shore to turn in for the night.

            Ray, however, was practically tireless. Deymos steered him here and there, feeling the splash of the water misting up onto his skin, sighing as the sea breeze washed over him –

            Then, all of a sudden, something in his path. A Corridor of Darkness through which a very familiar shape slithered. Feminine, curvaceous, and bearing a host of slithering black tentacles.

            Upon the sight of Ursula the Sea Witch, a known enemy, Deymos was bowled over, losing his balance and falling completely off Ray with a scream. Into the water he plunged, realizing he couldn’t show vulnerability in front of one of the most high-ranking Overtakers. He had to right himself, and he did, calling his sitar into hand –

            “Oh, darling angelfish,” Ursula taunted as Deymos resurfaced, ready for combat. “Is that any way to greet an old friend?”

            “Yeah, ‘friend,’ sure,” Deymos growled. “That’s one word for it. Look, whatever you have going on with my double, it doesn’t involve me, okay? And what I’m doing right now? Does NOT involve you.”

            “Oh, I think it has plenty to do with me,” Ursula replied slyly. “How about I explain my involvement to make it of-FISH-ial?”

            Deymos paused. That slip wasn’t lost on him. “…Of-FISH-ial? Really? REALLY? She wouldn’t pull a line THAT corny.”

            “Yes she would!” Ursula retorted. “I mean – yes I would!”

            “So you went with Ursula for the con,” Deymos said with a grin. “Good choice.”

            “The ONLY choice!” The person who wasn’t Ursula argued. “Hang on – there’s really no point in being in character if you’ve already figured out the plot twist – “

            The holographic façade of Ursula melted away, leaving behind the true sight of Quentin Beck reclining in a swim ring. Wearing the most garish purple-and-green shorts, of course. The swim ring, by contrast, was the black-and-purple palette of the witch he’d been impersonating.

            “I mean, the holographics were spot-on,” Deymos said. “If you hadn’t made that awful dad joke, I wouldn’t have even caught on.”

            “How could you think ANY other enemy but Ursula would work for this con?” Quentin ranted. “Not only are the Overtakers mutual enemies of ourselves and the local spice rack, but Ursula is KNOWN for her deals with the Devil! It’s the perfect way to manipulate them – we collect on a ‘debt,’ you wash up to save them, and suddenly, they owe YOU the favor.”

            The only thing that Deymos had known about the plan was that they were going to have one of their own impersonate a mutual enemy. “It sounds like you made this a little more complicated. I’m listening. I feel like this is gonna be good.”

            “I’m just saying…what if you struck a deal with the sea witch at some point and traded away something you just couldn’t LIVE without?” Quentin went on. “They wouldn’t have to know it was an act, of course. Then we’d see how much they’d be willing to trade to save your life, which is practically a contract written in blood, you know. And then – the most fun part – when you do battle with the sea witch and bring back EVERYTHING that was traded away, negating the deal. A happy ending for all! You’re the selfless hero, the one who they realized they actually care enough about to save, and who went to such lengths to save them! And I get to turn in the performance of the century!”

            “Wait, are we ACTUALLY staging the whole fight?” Deymos asked.

            “I didn’t spend hours with Dmitri, Jean-Baptiste, and your paramour cataloguing ALL of her most commonly used attacks and designing practical effects to mimic them, you know,” Quentin sighed. “Oh, and also, we’re building a set. I’ll give you the coordinates before I leave. You’ll need to bring a witness, and that witness should be CONVINCED they’re where we say they are. Oh, and also, I don’t think anyone told you this is a monster movie now. We’re also staging an attack on this beach, Pacific-Rim-style – “

            “Okay, WHAT did you come up with while I was here sweet-talking everyone?”

            “Actually, why don’t we go over the script step by step?” Quentin grinned. “That way, you’ll have all your lines down pat.”

            “And you get to hear feedback about how great your writing is the whole time you explain it, right?”

            “Yes, unless you were planning on being stingy with the praise,” Quentin replied.

            “No, I’m actually really, REALLY curious to hear how you’re blending these elements,” Deymos said. “Impress me and I’ll be real about it.”

            Quentin already had his scroll up, fetching a digital document. “Page one,” he began. “Enter the Sea Witch.”

            Deymos conjured himself up a chair made of water that held its shape and was able to bear his weight. He leaned back in it, already aware this would take a while.