Of Mice and (Proto) Men [Exemplary]

[Proto Man]

After all the gloom and darkness, it was so strange for Proto Man to find himself once again in the Tangled Green following a detour through the Nexus. As they drew closer to the Tangled Green gate, the preteen machine spotted Shang Tsung and Atelos entering ahead of them, but they were gone before Proto Man was close enough to shout ot them.

Once they were out of the Nexus, the preteen machine and his companion said farewell to their escorts and started away from the gate. As they had agreed to earlier in the month, they had returned to the land of forests and jungles to pay some respects for those who had been slain by the Blight. Before they left, Mireya said they should go meet with her ‘people,’ if only to let them know that the Blight was contained.

Once the Nexus was a few minutes behind them, they encountered an area now known as the Scorched Grove. Too many months ago, Wood Man had perished here at the hands of Mireya, Proto Man, and Snake Man. The sylvan Robot Master, originally in the verse to study its flora and fauna, had become another victim of the Blight when he was attacked by darkspawn. Despite the spreading infection, he had fought against it long enough to learn as much as he could and leave behind a record of everything he knew.

Proto Man had used that information to discover the origins and source of the Blight, which set into motion the series of events that led to Scylla being banished. On their way out of the Green, the group had been confronted by the blighted Wood Man, and after a vicious struggle, they destroyed the former Robot Master. In the process, Proto Man nearly burnt down the entire forest. Now all that remained of the machine so integral to the end of the Blight was a few square arches of blackened trees and soil.

Seeing the look on her friend’s face, Mireya placed a hand on his shoulder. “At least he is at peace. He would be happy knowing he helped to save so many lives. I’m sure Snake Man would feel the same way.”

Because he wore a helmet and a visor, Proto Man was able to hide the handful of tears that stung at the corner of his eyes. “I know...” He mumbled as he walked toward a charred tree and placed a hand on it. “It just sucks that they’re gone,” he added as his hand swung down to his waist. It was moments like these where he wished he was either fully human or completely lacked the near-sapience accidentally ‘gifted’ to him by Wily and Light. If he was a real boy, he could at least wholly understand the emotions he felt, and on the other hand, a machine with a simple AI wouldn’t be bothered in the least. Instead he had to deal with things he didn’t know how to really cope with or understand.

“Let’s keep goin’,” Proto Man finally said to break the silence. As the pair turned, they spotted someone shuffling about among the dead trees. When the figure realized it had been seen, it tried to slide behind a blackened husk. “I know you’re there. We’re not going to attack you.”

After a moment of silence, an anthropomorphic mouse about the same height as Proto Man stepped out from the tree. “Sorry, Fella, I can’t be too sure nowadays who is out to say hello and who wants to throw me in cuffs,” the mouse punctuated the remark with a hearty laugh that reminded Proto Man of a Saturday morning cartoon character.

“Trust me, we both understand what you mean,” Proto Man replied with a smile, and the robot was actually happy when Mireya nodded as well. “Who are you?”

“Me?” The mouse asked jovially as he placed a gloved hand on his chest. “I’m Mickey Mouse.” Seeing that he wasn’t being threatened by the preteen machine and his companion, Mickey strolled over to the pair and offered one of his big, four-fingered hands. Proto Man reached out with one of his own slightly oversized hands and shook with Mickey, who repeated the gesture with Mireya. “Who are you guys?”

“I’m Blues, and this is Mireya Vasquez.”

“I’m from here,” the half-night elf added as she pointed off in the direction of her old hunting grounds.

“Well golly, you probably know this place a lot better than me… I’ve only been here a few hours!” Mickey replied with a smile. “It’s not so terrible here.”

“You mentioned people who want to throw you in cuffs?” Proto Man inquired.

[Mickey Mouse]

Before this post.

Mickey Mouse was speechless.

Rarely had he seen such wanton devastation. Burnt down forest stretched out for several acres in front of his beady little black eyes. His mind raced back to the final hours of Dante’s Abyss, after the two dragon-riders had scorched the earth with their beasts’ flaming breath and a separate but equally vicious fire had ravaged the forest across the island. Flashes of the clinic bending and breaking beneath the sheer power of the finalists’ strokes flickered through his mind. The bruised face of the man with the electric blade; the blood seeping forth from the gutted space marine; Deadpool’s disease-stricken body huddled in a mass outside the ruined building.

For the first time since the competition ended, he could feel the slimy tendrils of the Orgosynth on his back again. Instinctively, he reached to pull the disgusting parasite off of him, but he found nothing. He released a sigh of relief before trying to avert his gaze from the scarred bits of earth that lay before him.

“Mickey?” Minnie Mouse piped up from atop their lion mount. “Mickey, are you alright?” She slid off of Simba’s back and took a few steps toward her husband.

He hesitated in his response. “Yes,” he nodded quickly once he’d gained the energy to do so, “Yes, I’m okay, honey.” He turned quickly from the sight of the burned-down forest and tried to focus on the literal greener pastures that they had already come through. Prior to now, the Tangled Green had been an absolutely splendid sight. Filled with all sorts of flora and freshly-sprouted life, the mouse had felt for the very first time like maybe he had found the one corner of the Omniverse untouched by horror. Obviously, he’d been wrong.

Behind him, Minnie’s eyes remained transfixed on the terrifying site that lay ahead of them. The King glanced over his shoulder at his hypnotized wife, her eyes sucking in all the death and destruction, and he immediately accepted his protective instincts and rushed to her, forcibly turning her away from the remnants of the forest fire. “Mickey, stop, I’m fine—”

“No, honey, you don’t need to look at that—” he struggled with her for a few seconds before she broke free, taking a few steps back from him.

“Mickey,” she spat, fists balled up at her side. The male mouse furrowed his brow at her as she let out a loud, frustrated scream. “Mickey, I am not some damsel in distress that you always need to take care of!”

The King scoffed. “Oh, yeah?” he shouted, angry for the first time since he had seen his wife’s beautiful face in this Omniverse, “Need I remind you who got themselves captured by a bunch of crazy, scary-looking terrorists, Minnie? That was you!” The lady mouse straightened up, taken aback that Mickey would yell at her—he’d never done anything of the like before—but her puzzled expression did not stop him. “You have no idea what’s in this Omniverse, Minnie,” he continued his tirade, “It isn’t like home. It isn’t just big, scary, obvious villains, Minnie. They’re everywhere! They’re hiding in plain sight, acting friendly right before they stab you in the back!”

His mind flashed to Deadpool, who had allied with the mouse before tricking him into breaking his one big rule, and then reveling in it. Hatred bubbled up inside the King as he remembered the spandex-clad man. “So if good guys can be bad here,” he sighed, his voice no longer at a shouting volume, “what the heckskies do you think is lying in an awful place like that, huh?” He stared at his wife for a second, barely even noticing the tears forming in her eyes. She fought to keep them inside. “Do you have any idea, Minnie? Do you?” He was yelling again.

“Sir…”

Mickey’s body turned violently toward Simba. The lion looked at him with concern, and then gestured to his wife. The male mouse turned back to Minnie, for the first time seeing the expression of hurt that now colored her entire face. Her fists clenched up, trying to hold back tears. His anger left him, replaced by regret.

“Oh gosh, Minnie,” he reached out, but she recoiled, “Minnie, I… I’m sorry.” He crossed to her and embraced her, and although she stood stubbornly still for a few seconds, eventually she relented and hugged him back.

“I wish you’d tell me what’s going on,” she sobbed into his shoulder. He swallowed nervously, and she looked up at his face, locking eyes with him. “I know something’s wrong, Mickey,” she shook her head, “I can see it in your face. You’re different, somehow.” The male mouse almost teared up himself as the words left her mouth.

“I’m still the same Mickey you fell in love with,” he assured her.

“Oh, I know,” she nodded, placing a hand on his chest and adjusting his shirt, mostly to find something to occupy her thoughts, “You’re still the same great, heroic guy I met back when I was a damsel in distress.”

Her words brought the King pause. “Maybe a little less heroic,” he admitted, the image of Delsin Rowe’s face plastered in his memory forever.

“I’m certain that’s not true,” Minnie looked up at him again, stroking his cheek gently, “Just a little angrier, maybe. Sadder, even. And I need to know why, Mickey. I can’t help you find your happiness again if I don’t know why.” She cupped his face in her hands, and he tried to smile, but couldn’t. He reached up, removing her hands and stepping away from her. Maybe she was right. Maybe he did need to tell her, to get better. But he couldn’t do it. The thought brought him too much shame.

He knew he couldn’t hide from her, though. With everyone else he could put on a happy face and he’d still be the same old King Mickey—but she would always be able to see him for what he was. The scarred little mouse that had watched his best friend get ripped apart by dragons.

“You have to go on to Ambrosia,” the King declared, facing away so that he couldn’t see Minnie’s face flash red with anger, which it did. “I’ll catch up with you, I just… need to see to some things first.” Minnie tried not to let her fury overwhelm her. She straightened her red, polka-dotted dress—she’d traded her royal clothes for a more casual outfit at some point in their travels—and harrumphed.

“If you insist, your Majesty,” she sassed him; he bit his lip.

“Minnie,” he exhaled, turning to face her.

“No, no, it’s fine,” she sighed, trying her best to calm down. After a few more frustrated grunts, she looked him in the face again. “I’ll go. Although I don’t know what you could possibly be looking for in a burnt-down forest, gosh.”

“I don’t know either,” Mickey shrugged, “But I’m hoping I’ll find it.”

This seemed to be enough for Minnie. She had grown used to this, after all—he always left her to go on some strange adventure into gosh-knows-where, to try and figure out something about himself, or some imminent danger no one else had ever heard of. The first time, he had come back with a bunch of magic spells, an oversized key, and a new fervor for his kingship. The second time, though, he hadn’t come back at all, and that was what worried her.

The couple embraced, Mickey kissing his wife one good time before preparing to send her off. She looked up at him after the kiss had been broken.

“Make sure you come back soon, alright?” she asked, and he nodded. She looked over to Simba, preparing to mount him and ride off to Ambrosia, but he shifted away from her as she got too close to him. “What’s the matter, Simba?”

“If you don’t mind, ma’am,” the lion king bowed his head, “I’d like to stay with the King.”

Minnie turned to Mickey. He didn’t really know what to say.

“It’s fine,” she smiled, her tone implying that it obviously wasn’t, “I don’t think Ambrosia is much farther, anyway.” She began to start off in the direction of the city of misfit creatures when a thought crossed her mind, and she turned around, looking at Simba. “Take care of my husband, alright? Don’t let him do anything stupid.” Her eyes flickered to Mickey and met his gaze.

He smiled at her. She couldn’t help but smile back.

* * *

The present.

“You know, sir,” Simba piped up after about a half-hour of silent exploration, “you really should go easier on her. She has no idea what you’ve been through.”

“Neither do you,” Mickey said curtly, breaking his way through some ashy brush.

Truthfully, he had no clue where this expedition was supposed to take them. The place had evoked so many memories for him that he thought maybe, if he ventured deeper within it, he would find something that would give him an idea as to how to get closure. Perhaps, he thought, all of these flashes of death and other equally horrific images would finally cease.

“The Earthshine makes me a part of you, sir,” the lion reminded Mickey, “I see what you see. I am, essentially, an extension of your power.”

“That’s creepy,” Mickey responded, waving off his trustworthy lieutenant. He supposed Simba could be called that, now—back in the Disney Realms, the lion had been one of the King’s most trusted nobles, ruling wisely over the Pride Lands after defeating the evil Scar. Here, he had no Pride Lands to rule over, so the mouse supposed he had transitioned into more of an advisory role; a bodyguard, a protector, someone to fight by his side. A small smile slipped onto the mouse’s face at the thought; it was almost like he was a king again, with subjects to follow him.

Well, one subject, he supposed. The word almost was key.

Simba had always been one of Mickey’s favorite subjects back home, to say the least. Bravery was something the mouse admired, and the lion king had no shortage of it—he had never been afraid to stand up for what he believed in, whether it was winning the Pride Lands back from the likes of Scar or challenging Mickey when he thought one of the King’s decisions was not the right decision to make.

Now, he crept behind the mouse, telling him things he already knew. Of course he had been too hard on Minnie. That much had become evident to the King the moment he’d seen her face, and the tears welling up inside her eyes. He always hated the thought of Minnie crying, and once he had seen it, of course he had stopped.

But she couldn’t understand. She really couldn’t. She had told Mickey, somewhere along their journey, that she had been abducted by the Organization before anything had happened with the Furby that Deadpool had accidentally activated. That meant, at most, she had seen his team’s encounter with that pink-haired fellow Samus had been forced to kill—she had no idea that the mouse himself had, eventually, spilled blood saving Deadpool’s rather worthless life. She had no idea that, in his desperation, he had let an evil, bloodthirsty parasite take root inside of him in exchange for the power to push through to the competition’s end.

That’s what Simba was saying though, wasn’t it?

She didn’t know. She couldn’t know. So why did he fault her for trying? He wasn’t going to tell her—he knew that if he did, if he admitted it to her, the shame would overwhelm him—so of course he should expect her to be frustrated.

“…you’re right, Simba,” he admitted, looking around the scorched earth, “I’m sorry. You’re absolutely right, I really should—”

“Your Majesty, shh,” the red-maned lion stopped in his tracks, “Look there.”

“Oh brother,” Mickey crept up beside Simba, placing a hand on the lion’s neck and looking out from behind a couple of wider trunks that had been slightly fazed by the fire but mostly just horrifically discolored. Just ahead, a little boy who couldn’t have stood much taller than Mickey himself and a woman with pale purple skin stood in silence. The mouse’s lips curled into a smile. “Someone my own size,” he chuckled, though that was not completely true; the armored boy still stood a couple of heads taller than him. “Do they look like they work for the Empire?”

“Hard to say,” the lieutenant narrowed his cat-like eyes, getting a closer look. The perks of feline vision, Mickey supposed. “His armor doesn’t look like the armor those guys who chased us were wearing,” Simba analyzed, “and she certainly doesn’t look like anyone we saw in Coruscant. But you can never be too sure, Your Majesty.”

The mouse King huffed, frustrated that they couldn’t get a better reading on the pair from afar. He supposed Simba was right—the boy’s armor was red instead of pearly white, and besides, he was just a young boy. The Empire seemed pretty terrible, but surely they weren’t hiring little boys nowadays? Though, the mouse considered, he could be a bounty hunter. Those types of guys were everywhere—wasn’t Samus one?—and it would be hard to judge who his allegiance was to if that was the case. But…

“I guess there’s only one way to find out, Simba,” the King decided. “Head over and flank them on the other side of the clearing. If it starts to look like trouble, come in and get me, okay?”

Simba nodded, and slunk off to follow his King’s orders. Mickey waited for the lion to get to the proposed position, and then made a little noise with the burnt-up branches at his feet. A little ways ahead of him, Proto Man and Mireya Vasquez caught wind of the mouse and called out for him to reveal himself.

Gladly, he thought.

* * *

Mickey froze up as Blues asked who was after him. These two seemed nice enough, so far, but he had yet to determine if they were Empire agents. Although, his experiences with the Empire led him to believe that if these two really did work for the big baddies, their first instinct would have been to raise their weapons at him, and that had yet to happen. Instead, their first offer had been one of peace. He’d risk it.

“Some nasty folks,” the mouse placed his hands on his hips, “Called the Empire, from this place called Coruscant. Heard of it, fella?”

Mireya glanced over at the preteen machine, who responded. “Yes,” Proto Man said simply, “Yes, I’ve heard of it. I live there, actually.”

“Oof,” the mouse scowled, “Sorry to hear that.” He chuckled a bit; for a moment, Blues and his half-night elf companion did not seem to get the joke. After a beat, though, Proto Man let out a tiny laugh, as well, and Mireya smiled ever so slightly.

“So the Empire’s after you?” Blues pressed the matter a little.

“Yeah,” Mickey nodded, “They kidnapped my wife. I had to rescue her. Some of their guys got in my way on the way out. I didn’t kill any of ‘em—I don’t do that—but me and her banged ‘em up a little bit. I’m sure they weren’t too happy about it.” Behind Proto Man and Mireya, something moved in the trees. The pair, caught off guard once again, spun around to see what the disturbance was. “Oh gosh, that’s nothing,” Mickey said, pushing past the two of them, “Just my guy. Simba, come on out! It’s safe.”

The lion stepped out of the charred brush; Proto Man looked intrigued, but Mireya’s skin went from purple to pale in seconds. “Blues,” she pointed, “That’s a lion.”

“I know, Mireya,” Blues glanced over at his companion, then at Mickey. “You say he won’t hurt us?”

“He’s a sheep in lion’s clothing,” Mickey smiled, bounding up toward his lieutenant. The mouse placed a hand on Simba’s face, and the lion king nuzzled him a little bit at the touch. “See? Absolutely harmless. He’s my buddy,” the mouse grinned back down at the two newcomers before reaching up and pulling himself up onto Simba’s back. He tapped the creature’s side with his foot, and the lion stepped down into the clearing, approaching Blues and Mireya, the latter of whom still seemed slightly anxious. “And he’s a real quick way to get from place to place. You guys want a lift somewhere?” Mickey held out a hand to help them up.

The unfamiliar pair cast another uncertain look in each other’s direction, but then, silently, made peace with the idea that this little mouse didn’t actually mean them any harm. Proto Man broke the eye contact with his companion and firmly grasped Mickey’s gloved hand, leaping up onto Simba’s back. Hesitantly, Mireya followed. “Alright, Simba, mush,” Mickey said, tapping the lion king on the back of his neck.

“…sir,” Simba sighed.

“…the lion talks?” Blues asked, wrapping his hands around Mickey’s tiny waist. Mireya followed suit, holding on to the preteen machine as best as she could.

Mickey looked back at Proto Man. “Um,” he wrinkled his brow, “of course the lion talks?” The mouse scoffed a little bit. Since when were there lions in the world that didn’t talk? He supposed he had heard of weirder things since arriving in this Omniverse, though. “Sorry, Simba,” the mouse refocused his attention on his lieutenant, “let’s go.”

Simba nodded his affirmation, much preferring this command than “mush.” He started off in the direction that he and Mickey had come from; the mouse glanced over his shoulder as his two new stowaways. “So where you guys headin’?” he asked, a smile on his face.

Facing his inner demons could wait a little while longer.

[Proto Man]

“We’re heading further into the Green,” Proto Man said as the trees rushed passed them. For a lion with three people on its back (one of them being made entirely of metal), Simba didn’t seem to sweat as he almost casually hopped over fallen logs and dipped around obstacles. “To Yggdrasil.”

“Yig-a-what?”

“It’s where the night elves live.”

Once more, Mickey shook his head. “You might as well be speaking a foreign language, Buddy!” He said, punctuating his question with a little lighthearted chuckle as Simba came to a lumbering halt. “What is it?” The mouse inquired as he leaned forward to try and get a better view of what was ahead of them.

“River up ahead.” The lion reported, glancing back at the trio. “None of you can smell that? The water has a very… strange scent.”

Mireya slid down from the lion’s back and nodded along with the speaking feline. “We’re probably near one of the Animus’ tributaries. Anytime it rains, the water picks up a lot of dirt and sediment and always has a really musty smell.” The half-night elf glanced over at her robotic companion. “Do you have the map for this area on you?”

“Yea,” Proto Man replied as he hopped down from Simba. Once he was closer to the woman, he activated his buster arm and aimed it at the ground as he shuffled through a bunch of files on his internal display. Mickey and his lion watched silently as Proto Man smiled and started to power up his hand cannon. In a flash of light, the Proto Buster projected a crude map made of grid lines, with four red dots near the center.

“Can’t you…” Mireya paused as she fumbled for the correct word. “You know?”

“The resolution,” Proto Man muttered as he increased the output settings to as high as they would go. In a few moments, the rudimentary map took on a much clearer identity as the green grid lines were overlaid with rendered grass and trees. Once the image was freshly rendered, Mireya dropped down next to it and traced the path of the nearby blue line on the map.

“We shouldn’t have a problem getting through this one,” she muttered, glancing up at the trio. “We’ll have to figure a way to get around the river proper though,” she explained as she traced a line from the other side of the nearby stream to a point that lay off the map. The hunter kept going, carving a soft line in the dirt for about another twelve inches. “The main body of the Animus should be here, about ten or so miles beyond the initial crossing. Once we figure out how to get across it, Yggdrasil shouldn’t be more than a few hours on foot.”

“What did you say you used to do, Mireya?” Mickey asked as he stared a little longer at the three-dimensional map. “And what exactly are you?” The second question was aimed at Proto Man, who smiled as he clicked off the display.

“Me?” Mireya asked as she discarded the stick. “I was just a hunter… that’s all the options you have when every other society doesn’t want you.”

“I’m sapient robot,” Proto Man responded in a very neutral tone that made it sound as if that should be common knowledge. When he saw the amused and somewhat startled look on Mickey’s face, the preteen machine grinned. “And you’re an anthropomorphic rodent with a talking lion... I think you’re the rarer case.”

Mickey chuckled, a hearty and jovial noise that made Proto Man smile. “Well let’s go, I heard we have a stream to get across.”

[Mickey Mouse]

“Stream is putting it mildly,” Mireya said, taking the lead in their trek. Mickey had no problem deferring to the night elf; she obviously knew this land better than he and Simba did. “The Animus River snakes throughout the entire verse. You can’t go a couple of miles without seeing one of its tributaries, at least.”

“Rivers are no big deal,” Mickey shrugged, “I worked on one back in my younger days. I was a crew member on a steamboat!”

Blues glanced back at him with a slight grin, but Mireya remained focused forward. The excitement of that story seemed lost on her, so the mouse decided to keep the rest of it to himself. Perhaps he would recount his adventures on Steamboat Willie some other time.

For a little while, they traversed the forest in silence. During the break in conversation, Mickey contemplated his new traveling companions. He had no reason to believe that the preteen machine and the night elf hunter were his friends in any way; in his experience, most people in this Omniverse were out to get him, anyway, between the mouse-hating humans of Camelot and the trigger-happy stormtroopers of Coruscant. Jaded as he’d become since Dante’s Abyss, the idea of trusting these two made the mouse wary. But he had agreed to come along with them to Yig-whatever, so he would fulfill that promise and see if he could find out anything new about them along the way.

Honestly, he didn’t even really know why he had decided to come. Under normal circumstances, that whole encounter in the Scorched Grove might have played out differently. He might have seen them, given Simba the signal, and quickly scurried away, content to never in his life come into contact with Proto Man and Mireya Vasquez. But something compelled him to reveal himself to them and offer his companionship on their travels. Perhaps, the mouse considered, new faces intrigued him. Perhaps something about Blues struck him as oddly familiar. Perhaps he figured he might be able to find some information wherever they were going; something to point him in the right direction.

Most likely, it was a mixture of all three.

“Here we are,” Mireya held out a hand, stopping the pack. She stood on the edge of a small cliff; not far down, the raging rapids of the Animus rushed loudly past them. The night elf glanced over her shoulder at Mickey. “You said you knew rivers?”

Mickey couldn’t tell, but he thought he heard a twinge of disdain in her voice. She underestimated him, maybe. A natural reaction; most people did. He was, after all—what had Proto Man called him?—just an anthropomorphic rodent. He shivered a bit at the r-word, and wondered idly what the long a-word meant. He took a few steps forward, joining Mireya at the cliff’s edge.

“I said I worked on a steamboat,” the mouse replied, looking down at the waters with just a bit of hesitation. He looked up at Mireya, who observed him expectantly. “So, uh… your Yig-a-whoosits is just a few hours away from the other side of this thingy?”

“Yes,” the night elf nodded, “And it’s Yggdrasil.”

“Right, Yig-dragons,” Mickey smiled, but then his lips quickly drooped. “Wait, there aren’t dragons here, are there? I’ve had some awful experiences.”

Mireya facepalmed.

“The point is, we’ve got to figure out a way across,” Blues stepped up, joining the pair. Water splashed up the cliff, wetting Mickey’s yellow shoes just a tiny bit. The trio looked around the area for some way across. They enjoyed little success. Mickey glanced back at Simba. If only the lion had wings, he could just fly them across, post-haste. As it were, though, he had no subjects capable of flight.

The King had to wonder, though, why Mireya didn’t have any better ideas—didn’t she say that she had been born and raised in this endless forest? Surely at some point, getting across this huge river would have come up in her hunter training, or at least in casual conversation… He supposed not, though, because the violet-skinned elf seemed as stumped as he.

Eventually, the hunter sighed, obviously a little frustrated. “Well, it’s getting dark anyway,” she pointed out. Mickey hadn’t really noticed—the canopy of tree cover in this area of the forest had made it difficult for him to discern the time of day. “I say we make camp and… and…” she sighed again, “…and figure it out in the morning.” She didn’t seem too happy with the delay, but the mouse and the boy machine knew that she was right—trying to cross the river at night would be exceedingly dangerous.

“Let’s make camp, then!” Mickey smiled. Blues returned his grin, but Mireya could not find cheer in the situation. The mouse did not know what, but something about this whole trek scared her half to death. He intended to find out what that was.

* * *

Mickey couldn’t sleep.

Really, none of the group could. Sometime during one of his various attempts to force himself into slumber, Mireya had escaped into the forest, presumably to do some personal contemplation of her own. Based on her demeanor during this short trip, Mickey supposed she needed the alone time. If it had been anyone else, the mouse might have gotten worried, but the hunter knew these woods better than anyone.

Meanwhile, Blues laid perfectly still on his patch of ground. His eyes were shut, but just the way he held himself suggested to Mickey that he had not found slumber, either. Really and truly, Simba was the only one that had managed to escape into dreamland effectively. The mouse envied him a little.

He sat on the edge of the cliff, his legs hanging down and getting splashed by the rapids as the waters raged below him. He’d been staring down into the river for the last several hours, trying his best to make heads and tails of his new situation.

Just being here around the river brought back memories of that huge, climactic battle at the diner. He remembered the aftermath, when he had dragged himself away from the fighting and sent the Master Sword down the river, having tied a piece of Erza’s skirt around it. That had been the last time he had seen Erza and Harry; Samus he had caught in the VIP room at the end, but so far he had seen no signs of Erza and Harry’s safety since Dante’s Abyss ended.

“Can’t sleep?”

The mouse turned. “Hey Blues.”

The preteen machine sat down next to him, hanging his slightly longer, red-armored legs next to Mickey’s. He looked expectantly at the mouse, as if ‘hey Blues’ wasn’t a satisfactory answer to his original question. “…yeah, I can’t sleep,” the King admitted, “Too much on my mind.”

“I understand,” Proto Man nodded, “Well, I mean… I don’t sleep anyway. But I have seen some things in the past couple of months that were… unsettling.” He removed his gaze from the mouse and looked off into the forest, as if having his own flashbacks. Mickey wanted to take a peek inside the machine’s brain, but he imagined that the boy’s troubles paled in comparison to the horrors of Dante’s Abyss.

Still, his curiosity would be sated. “Like what?”

“I defeated a Blight,” Proto Man shrugged. Mickey did not know what a ‘Blight’ was, but it certainly sounded terrible. “And I watched my friends get abducted by a crazy megalomaniac.”

“That’s awful,” Mickey looked over at the boy, acknowledging that his troubles were, at least, a little bit real. “What happened to them?”

“Well,” Proto Man started, “we were hunting. For this awful woman, named Cindy.”

Cindy. That name sounded familiar, but Mickey couldn’t place it.

“We tracked her to this competition—Dante’s Abyss,” he continued, and the mouse’s gargantuan ears perked up. Had Blues been another competitor? Mickey figured that he might have remembered the preteen machine’s name from the list of competitors that had perished before him; after all, he had only been survived by two others. So no, this boy had not been in the competition—thank gosh for that—but his friends had? “We showed up at the barracks to try and arrest her, but we failed… I got out somehow, but my friends got placed into the competition.”

But who were his friends? “Dante’s Abyss? Who were your friends?”

“Their names,” Blues turned to look back at Mickey, “are Samus Aran and Harry Dresden.”

“No goshdarn way!” Mickey exclaimed, “I totally knew—”

The mouse’s statement was interrupted by the all-too-close sound of a bow and arrow being strung. Mickey Mouse and Proto Man both heard it, and spun around to see a whole contingent of night elves dispersed throughout the trees surrounding their little campground, all with their bows aimed toward the pair of much shorter primes. “This is night elf territory,” one of the females growled, “Explain why you’re trespassing.”

“Stop!” the sound of Mireya’s voice echoed through the forest as she stumbled out of some nearby brush. Recognition flashed across her face as she confronted the speaker at the head of the group. “Elia,” the hunter scowled, “Long time no see.”

Elia lowered her weapon. A smirk laced with condescension appeared on her face.

“Mireya. So you’re alive.”

[Proto Man]

“I didn’t know I died,” Mireya responded after the joy seemed to drain from her features.

Proto Man knew that his companion had left night elf society after feeling like an outcast, but that was the extent of his knowledge. It didn’t even register with him that traveling to the same society where she’d been exiled might make her uncomfortable. I’m an idiot.

“Well half your squad got pulled down river, and let’s face it, it’s not like you were the crème of the crop.”

Mireya tensed up, her fingers clenching and unclenching as she stared at the other woman and her three companions. The night elf Elia was clad in a mixture of leather and metal armor that seemed perfectly molded to her lithe features. Various insignia on her shoulders and chest indicated that she was not only a member of the Sentinels (some kind of night elf defense force, per Dataverse search results) but an officer of some sort. “I seem to recall besting you in singles combat during training,” the half-night elf retaliated, prompting Elia’s smug grin to turn into a scowl.

“You’re encroaching into the night elf’s sphere of influence. What business do y—” The Sentinel officer’s gaze moved to the two much smaller companions traveling with Mireya. “You and your pint-sized friends have here?”

“We’re traveling to Yggdrasil,” Proto Man explained as he took a step forward and tried to defuse an escalating situation. “I—we—need to relay some news to someone called Tyrande Whisperwind. If I’m correct, she’s your leader, isn’t she?”

Elia nodded as she glanced down at the machine. “Lady Tyrande is, in fact, our ‘leader,’ but who do you think you are to demand an audience with the High Priestess?”

Proto Man knew that this woman was simply doing her job, but she was starting to grate on him with how abrasive she was acting. “I am an associate of a woman called Whirda Windstrom. She was tasked by your High Priestess to travel to the Pale Moors, find a man, and try to bring about an end to the Blight. My companions and I come in Whirda’s place to relay the results of our efforts in the Moors.”

“That name doesn’t sound familiar to me,” Elia remarked, still unable to trust the preteen machine.

“It’s not my fault that you’re ignorant of affairs of state,” Proto Man replied, eliciting a soft chuckle from his half-night elf companion. “We’re going to travel to Yggdrasil regardless of whether or not you offer your assistance, and while none of us here want to resort to violence, we’re not above defending ourselves.”

The scowl of the Sentinel officer grew deeper as she turned to glance at her companions. While she had the advantage in terms of bodies, she knew nothing about the two individuals who stood beside the deserter. Turning back to confront the red robot, she shook her head. “We won’t impede your travel, but we’ll have our eyes on you. If we catch any of you doing anything suspicious or destructive, we will deal with your accordingly.” With that, the group of night elves seemed to almost vanish into the darkness beneath the surrounding tree cover, leaving the trio to themselves once again.

“You have some nice friends,” Proto Man said as he turned to look up at Mireya.

The half-night elf scowled. “Elia was one of the worst…she couldn’t stand that an impure half breed beat her.” Mireya took a step forward and spat into the trees. “Puta.”

Mickey’s eyes widened a little as he turned to look at Proto Man. “Something tells me that wasn’t a happy word,” he said, ending with a soft chuckle as Simba seemed to materialize from the nearby brush. “Anything, Simba?” The mouse inquired.

“I can smell those women, but I can’t track them,” the lion said, his expression quizzically as he looked around at their surroundings. “Whatever they are, they are very skilled at concealing themselves.”

“They’ll always be nearby,” Mireya spoke as she looked up into the trees. “Night elves are like that… they can meld in and out of the shadows with relative ease. It has something to do with their relationship with their goddess.”

“I guess we ought to keep moving?” Mickey asked, trying to steer the conversation away from sore topics. “How do the night elves cross the Animus? Boats?”

Their resident ‘expert’ on night elves shook her head. “They rarely do so. Their heartland is on the other shore, but every now and again, they’ll send groups like that one to the other side to rattle their sabers. They make them swim.”

“Swim?” Mickey’s eyes grew wide as he recalled just how wide and turbulent the river was that he’d seen. “Something tells me there’s more to it than that.”

Mireya shook her head. “It’s usually considered a rite of passage for Sentinels. If you can survive the swim without being eaten, caught in the rapids, or pulled downstream to your death, you’re considered one of the very best.”

“Did you survive that test?” Mickey asked—a question that had just popped up into Proto Man’s head.

The half-night elf nodded. “My Crossing was at a point further to the west, where it wasn’t quite as terrible. Myself and two others had just started across when the others back on shore were attacked by orcs. We tried to turn back, but that caused us to get caught up in the current. We were separated, and when I made it to the other side, I decided not to look back.”

“…So swimming is out of the question,” Mickey replied glumly as he noticed Proto Man playing with a whistle he wore as a necklace. “Something on your mind, Blues?”

The robot nodded his head. “Yea, I got a solution, I think.” Placing the whistle in his mouth, the preteen sucked in a mouthful of air and blew. What came from the tiny device was a horrible sound that made Mickey stumble backward and clap his hands over his ears. Simba likewise let out a grunt and recoiled, leaving Mireya standing there with a confused look on her face as the sound died away and the whistle dropped to Proto Man’s chest. “What the heck was that for? You tryin’ to make my ears bleed?” He asked as he shook his head to try and dispel the ringing sound.

“I’m sorry,” Proto Man muttered as a column of white light descended from the sky and hit the ground behind him. “I didn’t think you’d be able to hear at that frequency,” the preteen added with a frown as he turned around to watch the mass of light fade to reveal a red robot dog.

“Hey, a pup!” Mickey said with a smile as he jogged forward and held out a hand for Rush. “Haha, he’s a metal dog too.” The mouse held out his hand for the metal mutt to sniff. After ensuring that Mickey didn’t smell terrible, Rush let out a bark and licked the side of the mouse’s face, causing Proto Man’s new friend to recoil with a laugh. “That’s pretty real though.”

“This is Rush,” Proto Man explained as he patted the dog on the head. “I got the idea and the name from my brother’s dog, but I like to think my version is way cooler.” Obviously concurring with the assessment, the robotic canine let out a pair of barks and dropped onto its haunches. “You ready to help us cross the river, Boy?”

“Bark bark!”

“Function Two is working, correct?”

“Bark!”

“Awesome!” Proto Man shouted, as if he’d just had a conversation with the dog seated next to him. “Active Function Two.” With a nod, Rush slid his front legs forward and laid down so his head was between his paws. In a flash of light, the dog’s various leg joints shot out some steam as they locked into place. A beat later, Rush’s rear legs flashed as they were replaced with a pair of thrusters that glowed to life. “We’ll have to take turns, but the Rush Jet should be able to get us across the river without having to risk life and limb in the process!”

Mickey let out a soft chuckle and glanced over at Simba. “You should take some pointers,” he said jokingly to the lion, who merely rolled his eyes at his friend’s attempt at humor.

[Mickey Mouse]

After a few trips across the Animus, Rush had successfully ferried all three humanoid members of the party to the other shore. Mickey had absorbed Simba back into the Earthshine gem to make travel easier, and for the moment decided to keep him there; though the lion king was a gentle beast, the mouse didn’t want to risk the night elves getting riled up by his presence. The creatures had already been not-so-friendly during the group’s last encounter with them.

“Good boy!” Proto Man gave the dog a few pats on the head before de-summoning him. As the dog dissipated, Mickey couldn’t help but be reminded a little bit of his own pup, Pluto, surely waiting somewhere back home for him. The memory of his trusty companion brought a smile to his face despite the sadness that lingered. “Alright,” Blues turned back to the group, “Yggdrasil shouldn’t be far now. Mireya, want to lead the way?”

Mireya scoffed. “I don’t want to, but I will,” she scowled, assuming her position at the head of their trio and starting off. The mouse hated to see Mireya so unhappy—if she didn’t want to return to her people, why in the world had she accompanied Blues at all?

Mickey and the preteen machine kept up the rear of the group.

“So you know Samus and Harry?” the King asked. He was obviously eager to continue the conversation they’d been having earlier in the evening, before Elia and her hunters had rudely interrupted them. Proto Man nodded. “That’s so cool.”

“Yea, they’re friends of mine,” the armored boy affirmed, “We’ve… been through a lot together, to say the very least.”

“I hear that,” Mickey sighed.

“Samus and Harry,” Proto Man exhaled deeply, thinking back on the last time he’d seen them, “I wish I knew where they went off to. You don’t have any idea, do you?” He glanced over at Mickey, a bit of hope flashing on his face. The mouse hated to disappoint him, but unfortunately he didn’t have any information the boy was looking for.

“Nope,” he frowned, “I’ve actually kinda been lookin’ for ‘em, too. I miss them. They stuck by my side all through Dante’s Abyss, almost.”

The tiniest bit of recognition colored Proto Man’s face. “Oh, right,” he said, almost to himself, “I must have seen you with them, on the TV. I watched a little bit of it before I left to… well, to take care of the Blight.”

“Not exactly ideal family entertainment,” Mickey shrugged, and Blues giggled just a little bit. The mouse smiled at the boy’s laugh.

He liked the preteen machine, he decided.

The journey didn’t last much longer; a few hours, like Mireya had projected. Eventually, the brush started to get less and less frequent, before finally the half-night elf led them through one last wall of trees and into a large, open clearing. Surrounded by some makeshift defensive structures, a large tree—like, literally the hugest tree that Mickey had ever even imagined—rose out of the ground. The mouse thought that it could have been one thousand times his size, maybe even more. So, he thought to himself, this is where the night elves live? Cooooool.

“So that’s Yig-a-dra-silly?” the mouse attempted to look for the top of the tree but he guessed he probably would never be able to see it, no matter how hard he tried.

“Well, I guess that’s closer,” Mireya said under her breath. The Keyblade wielder would never be able to pronounce the name of the World Tree, she guessed. “Yes, that’s Yggdrasil,” she nodded, looking back at her two pint-sized companions, “Home of the night elves. Home of my people.” The last sentence she said in a low voice, glancing once again at the tree. In the distance, a few night elf guards approached.

Once they got close enough, Mickey could see that it was the same group that had ambushed them in the forest earlier. At the head of the pack was Elia, the one who seemed to have taken a particular… well, she and Mireya had not hit it off.

The full-blooded night elf and her crew of hunters stopped a few yards away from Mireya, Proto Man, and Mickey Mouse. “So you made it across the river,” she smirked, “First time for everything, I guess.” The other night elves flanking her chuckled maliciously, their eyes shooting daggers at Mireya.

The half-night elf clenched her fist, but Mickey stepped in before things could turn ugly.

“Yes, we crossed the Animus and walked all the way here,” he started, placing himself between Mireya and her brethren, “and so now we’d like—er, well, they’d like—an audience with—uh, that lady—”

“Tyrande Whisperwind,” Proto Man helped him, moving to stand by his side and cut him off before he fumbled any more words, “We’d like an audience with Tyrande Whisperwind to report on the end of the Blight.”

Elia observed the pair of short humanoids with amusement. “We’ll see who gets an audience with the High Priestess,” she shrugged. She glanced up at Mireya, locking eyes with the half-night elf, and after a few seconds of strained silence returned her glance to Blues and the little mouse. “I suppose you may enter Yggdrasil,” she relented, “and we’ll see what the High Priestess would like to do with you. Neyla, go to her and see if she’s willing to meet with the deserter and her strange-looking friends.” One of the night elves spun around and followed her orders, sprinting back toward the World Tree. “Alright,” Elia sighed, “follow me, then.”

And with that, she began to lead the group towards Yggdrasil. Mickey leaned over to Blues.

“Well, that was easy!”

The preteen machine stifled a chuckle.

[Proto Man]

If he hadn’t been in the Omniverse for so long, Proto Man would have looked upon Yggradrasil with all the wonder of a child his age. While he wouldn’t deny that it was a wonderful place and something straight out of a fairytale, he couldn’t relax enough to enjoy the splendor of a society living amongst massive trees. From the moment they met up with the other night elves, he’d noticed how uncomfortable Mireya had become, and he knew that this was a massive mistake. Despite the fact that she was seemingly only some low-ranking member of their military force, the half-night elf took more than a few glares as the trio was ushered into the main ‘structure’ in town.

A few minutes later, the trio found themselves a few hundred feet above the forest floor. All around them, the antechamber was filled with attendants and petitioners—all of them hoping to receive an audience with the High Priestess or to simply bestow alms upon her and the other members of Elune’s inner circle.

After waiting for close to a half hour, the massive wooden doors swung open, and a pair of individuals crossed over the threshold. Unlike the rest of the night elves that filled the room, they stood out like a pair of sore thumbs—two clearly human men. They made it a few steps before they both noticed the mouse and the robot boy waiting for their audience with Tyrande. Once they stopped moving, Proto Man’s contacts app verified their identities.

“Hello, Shang,” Proto Man said politely to the sorcerer. Although the black-haired man looked to have shed a few years, he was still the same individual that the robot had encountered while separated from Mireya and Snake Man in the Pale Moors. “You’re looking very young.”

The comment elicited a smirk from the man with Eastern tastes but no discernable accent of any kind. “Some time off from the Pale Moors will do that to you, Blues,” he answered as he took a knee and reached out for a handshake. Proto Man obliged him, even though he was still undecided about the sorcerer and his Spartan associate. They were an odd twosome. Although Atelos was clearly the more physically impressive specimen, the preteen machine had watched the long-haired sorcerer manhandled people twice his size.

“Were you meeting with Tyrande?” Proto Man inquired as Mickey joined him.

The mouse waved gently to the pair and stuck out his hand, emulating his metal companion’s earlier gesture. “Name’s Mickey Mouse!” He shook hands with Shang Tsung, but when he swung his hand to point at Atelos, the Spartan merely grunted. “Nice to meet’cha both.”

“A pleasure,” Shang replied without standing back up. “And yes, we just met with the High Priestess. We found one of her… couriers out there in the wilderness being attacked by orcs. I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to come see such a wonderful place, so we escorted her here. We met some interesting characters in the meantime.”

“Oh?” Mickey and Proto Man both asked—their curiosity properly piqued by the sorcerer’s remarks.

“Yea.” Shang replied even as Atelos grunted and rolled his eyes. “Some green-skinned guy with antennae got into a fist fight with my friend here,” the sorcerer smacked a hand on Atelos’ shin pad, prompting the Spartan to shrug his shoulders.

“I still would have beaten that creature, Sorcerer.”

“Green guy with antennae?” Mickey inquired, rubbing his chin as his thoughts drifted to the past. “Did he have lots of muscles and an angry-looking sneer?” When Shang nodded his head, the mouse’s eyes widened just a little bit. “I met him…”

When Mickey didn’t offer any more information, the sorcerer simply turned his focus back to Proto Man. “Well it was nice to see you again, Blues, but Atelos and I have to return to Darkshire. Are you coming from there? How has it been?”

Proto Man shook his head and scowled beneath his visor. “There’s some stuff going on with the government and the military, but no one wanted to tell us anything. Mireya…” the preteen machine pointed to his half-night elf companion, who remained glued to the bench for the time being. “She and I were swept out of there like dust on a windowsill. I don’t know what to tell you,” he offered, eliciting a frown from Shang Tsung.

“Then it looks like we should hurry back,” the sorcerer replied as he stood up and shared a silent moment with Atelos. He then turned back to the pair of short primes. “It was nice to see you again, Blues, and a pleasure to meet you, Mickey. Now if you two don’t mind, we must be going.”

With nods, Proto Man and Mickey stepped to the side as the pair made their way out the antechamber. Once they were out of earshot, the robot turned to the mouse. “They’re a bit strange, but they seem like okay guys.”

Mickey shrugged his shoulder and pointed to the open doorway. “Let’s go,” he said with a smile as Mireya slid off the bench and followed them into the hallway that connected to the space where Tyrande spent many of her days. Once they were inside the room, the door was shut by a pair of armored soldiers who glared long and hard at Mireya.

“Hello,” a soft voice said from across the room. Proto Man lifted his head slightly to see a slender figure standing on a small platform before a large window. Tyrande Whisperwind looked like most of the other night elves, but there was something about her eyes and the way she carried herself that betrayed her role in the city. Turning away from her view of the settlement below, Tyrande descended a small flight of stairs and crossed the room to where he trio of new visitors stood. “It’s a pleasure.”

“We’re here on behalf of Whirda Windstrom,” Proto Man spoke, prompting the tall night elf to look down at him. “Do you remember meeting here? She told me she had an audience with you nearly two years ago.”

The High Priestess thought for a few seconds before nodding her head. “A slender woman… she had stern eyes, white hair, and could saw through a group of armed attackers with nothing but the wind at her shoulders and a pair of blades.”

“That’s the best way to describe her,” Proto Man replied with a soft laugh.

“What of her companion? She traveled with a dark-haired woman versed in fel magic.”

The android shook his head. “When I met Whirda, she was alone. She and I teamed up to investigate the source of the Blight, but we were sidetracked by a giant monster.”

“The Tarrasque.”

“Yes,” Proto Man responded enthusiastically as the woman smiled. “Whirda and I lost contact when we returned to the city, but I was able to stop the Blight by banishing the Archdemon responsible for creating it. I can’t say if the effects will ever go away, but we shouldn’t have to worry about it spreading any further.”

“That’s splendid news…” Tyrande paused and dropped into a crouch in front of the two primes. “I don’t think we’ve actually been acquainted yet,” she said with a chuckle. “I am Tyrande Whisperwind, High Priestess of Elune and leader of the Night Elf Sentinels. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

“I’m Blues,” Proto Man replied, feeling quite comfortable around the slender, beautiful woman. “And this is my new pal, Mickey Mouse.”

“Hiya!” Mickey replied with equal parts enthusiasm (albeit rooted in other reasons).

“And this,” Proto Man gestured up over his shoulder at Mireya. “Is Mi—”

“Mireya Vasquez,” Tyrande interjected as she rose to a standing position and looked upon the other woman. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

“Must have been the human blood,” Mireya replied, her expression like stone as she stared into the eyes of her former leader and ruler. For her part, Tyrande didn’t take the bait—the High Priestess merely smiled at the soldier-turned-nomad.

“You always have a home here in Yggdrasil, Sister.”

When Proto Man saw Mireya’s expression sour and her mouth twist into an unpleasant shape, he grabbed her shin and squeezed before she said anything stupid. Fortunately for the preteen machine, the half-night elf took the point and just nodded her head at her former leader. “Thank you.”

“Here,” Tyrande spoke as she turned around and vanished into a little alcove underneath an elevated balcony. When she returned, she handed Proto Man a small bag. “This is a small token from me to you.” The prototype Robot Master opened up the mouth of the bag and poured its contents into his palm. What he was looking at was a large sort of seed or nut. “It’s a seed. If you plant it, it will grow. You’ll have to figure out the rest.”

“Thanks!” Proto Man replied as he put the seed back in the bag and stuffed it into the larger pouch that he used to carry the rest of his random possessions.

Tyrande turned and looked down at Mickey Mouse. “I apologize that I have nothing for you, but all three of you may feel free to take these.” The night elf handed each of them a small little metal coin that bore a bizarre insignia. “That’s proof that you work for me, and with it, you should be able to get the best treatment possible while you stay here at Yggdrasil.” The last remarks she made seemed to be directed at the resident pariah in the room, but neither Proto Man nor Mickey Mouse looked up from the shiny trinkets they now possessed.

“Oh!” Mickey yelped as he pocketed the metal insignia. “Lady Tyrande, I was told to mention our friend, Samus Aran. She’s working on creating a network of individuals dedicated to justice in the Omniverse, and I’m certain you’d fit the profile.”

The High Priestess smiled softly down at the two child-sized primes. “Thank you for telling me that, Mickey Mouse. I’ll keep that in mind. Now I hate to say this, but I have many more people to talk with today before I head out on my evening ride with the Sentinels. If any of you wind up here in the future, you know where to find me.”

With that, the trio left the High Priestesses’ chambers and returned to the large antechamber. Turning to his big-eared companion, Proto Man smiled. “So now what?”

[Mickey Mouse]

“So now what?”

Mickey pondered that question for a moment. He didn’t really know, to be honest. He had sort of been following Proto Man and Mireya around with no semblance of a goal since he and Simba had stumbled upon them back in the Scorched Grove. He had wanted to explore that area, and maybe dig deeper into some of his own ghosts, but he had found two nice-looking people—something he’d grown to see as a bit of a rarity in the Omniverse—and had decided, on a whim, to tag along with them. So what was the next logical step?

Well, the obvious answer seemed to be returning to Minnie. He knew it had been a sore moment when he’d left her again to go explore the woods on his own, and sent her on her merry way to Ambrosia, and so the mouse found himself itching to get back to his lady love and win her forgiveness. Especially since he hadn’t even really found the solace that he’d been looking for. But would Blues and Mireya even be slightly interested in helping him find his wife?

“Um,” Mickey sputtered, “well, I should really probably get back to my wife. She’s expecting me any hour now, I’m sure.” He’d gauge the pair’s interest.

Mireya’s eyebrow lifted. “You’re… married?”

“Yeah?” Mickey responded, wondering why that question even seemed like a good one to ask.

“Cool,” Blues nodded, “where’s she at? Mind if we tag along, maybe?” Mireya shot a glance at her pint-sized friend, but he seemed not to notice.

“Last I know, she was off heading to a little city just past the gate called Ambrosia,” Mickey explained, “I’m sure she’s there by now if she didn’t run into any trouble along the way.” Blues looked at Mireya, who still wore a little bit of a scowl, but eventually sighed deeply and nodded, signaling her approval.

“Off to Ambrosia, then!” the preteen machine nodded. The trio turned and started to head out of Yggdrasil, but the pitter-patter of elven feet behind them quickly distracted them from their new goal. Turning, the sight of Elia quickly brought another disdainful expression to Mireya’s face. Mickey would admit that he wasn’t too happy to see the rude night elf scout, either, but he was intrigued as to why she’d run up to them so quickly.

She panted a little bit before speaking. “Lady Tyrande—wanted me to—catch you before you left,” she heaved. Mireya stifled a giggle.

“It took that much out of you?” Blues smirked.

Elia did not seem happy about the preteen’s mockery, but she continued on with her mission nonetheless. “Lady Tyrande wanted me to give you this,” she growled, holding out her hand. Sitting in the middle of her palm was a tiny green gem, glowing just a bit in the streaks of sunlight that slipped in the cracks of Yggdrasil’s exterior. Proto Man reached for it, and Elia jerked it back. “Not you,” she rolled her eyes, “Him.” She nodded toward Mickey, whose face immediately contorted with confusion.

“Me?”

“Yes, you,” Elia spat, clearly annoyed.

“Lady Tyrande had a gift for little old me?” he smiled, bounding past Proto Man and Mireya and snatching the emerald from Elia’s hand. She crossed her arms, launching into an explanation of what, exactly, it was.

“The High Priestess would like me to inform you that the crystal you hold is known as the Naturespark gem,” Elia started. “Inside of it is held the soul of an innocent secondary that the Lady saved from being ravaged by the less… civilized creatures of the Tangled Green. She committed to protect the secondary until someone more suited to caring for it came along, and while you stood in her grand throne room, Mickey Mouse, she began to sense that perhaps, that person was you. She suspects that you and the creature held inside the Naturespark may be from the same world.”

Mickey observed the tiny little emerald for a few seconds before reaching into his pocket and pulling out the Earthshine. He held the little orange crystal next to the glowing green one, and smiled.

Two soldiers, now. His kingdom, slowly but surely, was returning to him.

“Okay!” the mouse grinned, looking up at Elia, “Tell your Lady I said thanks! And thanks to you too, Elia.” The night elf harrumphed, and spun around, exiting herself from the situation as quickly as she could possibly manage. Mickey observed the little crystals one more time and then dropped them both in his pocket for safekeeping.

He turned to his companions. “To Ambrosia?”

Blues nodded. “To Ambrosia.”

“Mireya?” the mouse turned to look at the other night elf, whose gaze still remained on Elia as she walked away. At times like this, Mickey felt incredibly bad for Mireya Vasquez. After a moment, she met eyes with Mickey.

“To Ambrosia,” she surrendered.

And with that, the trio—along with Mickey Mouse’s newest additions to his kingdom, housed safely in the Earthshine and the Naturespark gems—went on their way to Ambrosia.

The trip would not take them long.

[Proto Man]

With the night elves behind them, the little trio seemed to have a little more spring in their step. Mireya, especially, seemed far more at ease. Despite the unpleasantness, the homecoming must have given the half-night elf some feeling of closure with part of her past. Once they were on the other side of the Animus, the trio continued toward the Gate to the Nexus. When they were within a few miles, Mickey took over guiding them toward their destination, and they veered off in another direction.

“Where are we going again?” Mireya inquired as they detoured through a little grove of fruit trees. The half-night elf snatched one of the low-hanging apples as they passed and took a bite out of it as she waited for a response from the mouse.

“The town is called Ambrosia,” Mickey explained, glancing once over his shoulder to make sure he had the woman’s ear. “They seem like some pretty nice people there.”

“They humans?”

The mouse thought for a moment before shrugging his small shoulders. “I think some of them are? I’m not sure, I haven’t really been there… I sent the wife, remember?”

“Guess we’ll find out together,” Proto Man said with a smile as the trio passed over another small river.

After a few more minutes, they found themselves walking out of the forest and staring at a rather large and rather awkward-looking building. It took the robot a few hard blinks before he realized he had to be looking at Mickey’s house, as there could be no other explanation for the structure that lie before him. Separated into various sections, the structure resembled parts of the mouse’s anatomy, with a giant version of his leg at one end and a large gloved arm at the other. In the center was a dome-shaped area painted like Mickey’s red trousers, and up from the center was a second floor shaped like his head, although luckily there weren’t any giant googly eyes looking down at the robot.

“The Clubhouse!” Mickey shouted ecstatically as he made his way passed Proto Man. “Aww, shucks, Minnie made our house!”

With the mouse out in front of them and enraptured by the adobe, Mireya and Proto Man shared a silent look that conveyed the mixture of amusement and discomfort they felt as they stood in the shadow of the ‘clubhouse.’ As they drew closer toward what was a giant version of Mickey’s boot, the door (because of course this was the front door) swung open to reveal a smiling female version of Proto Man’s newest pal.

Aside from large eyelashes and a slightly more feminine physique, Minnie Mouse was similar to her husband. Instead of Mickey’s layers of clothing, she wore a simple red dress with white polka dots. Atop her head was a large bow made from the same fabric, and her footwear was a pair of red shoes with slightly elevated heels.

“Yoo-hoo!” The female mouse said, waving a hand at her husband and his friends. “About time!” She added with a smile as Mickey rushed forward to scoop her up in a hug. After he set down his wife, she turned and looked at her husband’s new companions. She gave a polite smile to Proto Man before she had to crane her neck to look up at the leather-clad Mireya. “Oh my, you’re tall…”

“I… I like your dress,” Mireya replied, prompting a tittering laugh from the female mouse.

“If I find enough fabric, I can make you one just like it!” Minnie responded as she turned to look at her husband and the preteen robot. “Let me go put some tea on, and you can tell me all about where you’ve been.” Although the mouse had a smile on her face and her tone sounded upbeat enough, it was obvious that Mickey picked up on some subtext that Proto Man’s youthful disposition could not. As Mickey walked inside, Proto Man remembered his new pal mentioning that he had left his wife behind. She was probably curious as to what he had been up to… at least that’s what made sense in the preteen’s head.

The metal door was just tall enough to allow Proto Man to get through without having to stoop, but once he passed through, he turned around and found himself staring at looked at Mireya’s midsection. The nearly six foot woman dropped into a squat and scowled as she looked inside the house. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she mouthed as she stepped forward. Although she fit, she would have to permanently stoop down to fit inside the quirky little house.

Looking back over her shoulder, Minnie frowned. “Are you okay back there?”

“Just a little squeezed, is all,” Mireya replied as she shimmied her way through the room and the hallway until they came to a larger room in the center of the compound. Once she was through the doorway, the half-night elf let out a sigh as she was able to stand at her full height, although even here the roof was still just a few inches above her hair.

“You can take your helmet and your shoes off, you know,” Minnie said to Proto Man once they were all comfortably inside. Without waiting for a response, she threw a large switch that opened up a hole in the ground. A large gloved hand extended up and yanked a pull chain to turn on the large incandescent bulb which served as the room’s light. Once the hand retracted back into the ground, Minnie looked back at Proto Man. “Isn’t technology fun?” She laughed.

The robot smiled as he leaned down and knocked on the oversized armored boots he had. “I’m afraid these are permanent boots.” He responded before he reached up and popped off his helmet. Beneath the headgear was a mess of spiky brown hair and a pair of eyes hidden behind sunglasses.

“Have you been wearing those the entire time?” Mickey asked as Proto Man rested his helmet on an end table after getting a nonverbal okay from his hostess.

It took the machine a moment to realize the question wasn’t about his footwear. “These?” He asked, placing a hand on the side of his head until he got a nod. “Well yea, why wouldn’t I wear them? I need to protect my eyes from the sun’s UV rays.”

The comedic deflection elicited several chuckles from both mice, who turned to look up at Mireya. The half-night elf stifled a scowl as she dropped down and started to unlace her boots. Once she’d removed both her boots, the woman frowned at them and slipped them through the nearby window. “I’ll wash those later,” she muttered under her breath as the skin on her cheeks turned a little purpler.

“Now then,” Minnie said with a smile. “Who wants some tea?”

[Mickey Mouse]

“Oh ho! Me please!” Mickey Mouse chimed in. “Blues? Mireya?”

“Oh, I’m good,” Blues smiled as he took a seat in the chair Mickey gestured toward. Mireya nodded her head at the offer of tea and then she, too, sought out a place on the floor to sit; unfortunately, none of the chairs in the Mickey’s Clubhouse seemed to be her size.

Minnie Mouse disappeared into the kitchen, off to fetch three cups of tea. Mickey glanced from his guests to the doorway his wife had just crossed through, and with a quick smile to Proto Man and Mireya, he dashed off behind her. She stood by a counter pouring the first cup of tea when the male mouse caught up to her. Mickey approached her, reaching out and placing a hand on her shoulder. “Good to see ya, hun,” he said, leaning in and planting a kiss on her cheek.

“Mmmhmm,” Minnie forced a smile, obviously still peeved about earlier. He’d been afraid of that.

“I’m sorry, Min,” the former King frowned, trying to get his wife to make eye contact. She continued pouring the second cup of tea, not looking at him. “Minnie, come on,” he pleaded, leaning on the counter and essentially forcing his face into her peripherals.

“Mickey, go entertain your guests,” she replied shortly, “and let me make this tea. For gosh’s sakes.” She huffed a little and slid the cups away from her husband.

Mickey’s frown only got deeper. He turned, dejectedly, and began to walk back towards the living room when Minnie Mouse’s voice piped up one more time. “Mickey,” she started, as if she were about to ask him something. The male mouse could hear the hesitation in his wife’s voice, and already he dreaded the question. She poured the third cup, letting the sound of tea falling into her fine china hang over the room for a second. Mickey shuddered in anticipation; his wife turned around slowly, not yet meeting his eyes. “…Mickey, how long are you staying?”

It wasn’t the normal version of that question, though. Her eyes fell to the floor, and the King knew that she wasn’t asking because she was excited to know how long they’d be together—rather, she was afraid to find out when she’d have to start worrying about him day and night again. Truthfully, the mouse knew that his and Minnie’s relationship had been rocky recently. Heck, the whole reason they’d gotten sucked into this Omniverse in the first place was because he’d gone off on some wild adventure, and ever since they’d been reunited he’d done pretty much nothing but leave her out in the cold. Of course, she’d found her own way—just like he knew she would—but it still admittedly wasn’t very fair of him. They were married, after all. Time together was something she had a right to want.

And the answer to her question, the honest answer, was probably something she did not want to hear in the slightest bit. But he had to say it. It’d been in the back of his mind the whole trip here, after all.

“…probably not long,” he sighed. Minnie harrumphed and turned away from him, picking up the cups of china one by one and placing them on a tray.

He hurried over to her, placing a hand on her waist. “Min, I’m sorry—”

“You always say that, but nothing ever changes,” the lady mouse jerked away from her husband, and when she turned around Mickey could see that tears were welling up inside her eyes. He bit his lip, and pulled her into a hug. She sobbed just the slightest bit into his shoulder as he struggled to come up with something to say.

“But I always come home,” he assured her, “and I always will. Especially while we’re here. You know primes always respawn. That big fella killed me in Dante’s Abyss, and I woke up without even a scratch on me!”

“You can’t rely on that, Mickey,” Minnie said, unburying her face and looking her husband in the eyes. “Right now, you just show back up at the Fountain, but what if Omni changes his mind? What if he decides to change the rules on us?”

“We’ll be long gone before he does that, Minnie.”

“Oh, no we won’t,” the Queen broke the embrace and picked up the tray of tea cups, “We’re stuck here. You know it, I know it, we might as well just admit it. I’ve tried to make myself a life, Mickey. That’s why I built the Clubhouse here. We can stay. We can be happy.” She looked at her husband with a little bit of hope that her words had brought him closer to the dire reality of their situation.

“I can’t get behind that,” he shook his head, “I wanna go home.”

“Me too, Mickey, but I don’t know if that’s even possible,” she told him. “Why don’t we just try and make the best of this, and if a way home pops up along the way, we take it?”

Mickey pondered the idea for a moment. He didn’t want to stay here. He wanted to go home, to get back to his people and defend them. He could only imagine what was happening—the Heartless running amok, Donald and Goofy and Daisy trying their best to quell the chaos as the de facto leaders of the land in his and Minnie’s absence. And what of that new Keyblade wielder Yen Sid had told him about? Certainly that boy needed direction, and he wasn’t there to give it. The mouse shook off the thoughts; they frustrated him too much.

“If that’s the case then all the more reason for me to go find Samus,” Mickey piped up, “She’s starting something. Something that—if I’m gonna be here for a while—I really think I should help her out with. I think it’d do some good here, hun.”

Just then, the sunglasses-toting preteen machine peeked through the doorway. “Everything alright? Just wanted to check.”

Minnie responded first, and snappily. “Yes, everything’s fine—I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your name?”

Proto Man nodded. “Of course, sorry,” he smiled, “It’s Blues. And my friend in there is Mireya.”

“Blues, yeah,” Mickey placed a hand on Minnie’s shoulder, “Blues, I was just telling Minnie about Samus and MESH. And how that’s probably something that we should check out.” The mouse didn’t know if Proto Man had planned on sticking together following the excursion to Ambrosia—their conversation on the way from Yggdra-whatever to here had most just included stories about the Blight from Proto Man and Mireya and Dante’s Abyss from Mickey—but the call to arms Samus had sent them was something that the mouse felt needed to be answered. Yes, he wanted to go search for a way home, but perhaps Minnie was right; perhaps staying here would be their inevitable fate. And if it was, MESH was something that he felt he needed to get himself into.

The preteen machine, like Mickey, had exchanged some electronic letters (some people called them “e-mails” but Mickey didn’t really get that term) over the Dataverse with Samus during their travels. The pair had discussed Samus’ new organization with growing interest the hazier their next goal seemed. With the Blight ended, Proto Man had nowhere to go, and with his and Minnie’s Empire tail ditched, the only things Mickey had to worry about were his bad dreams.

“Let’s head into the living room,” Minnie deflected the conversation away from the subject, “I’m sure Mireya wants her tea.”

Indeed, the night elf seemed to be usually itching for her drink when Minnie arrived with the tray. The lady mouse sat it down on a table in the middle of the room and then passed Mireya her normal-sized cup; the former sentinel would admit that she was a bit surprised that the pint-sized house didn’t also have pint-sized tea cups. “So, Mireya,” Minnie started up conversation again, “Will you be staying in Ambrosia?”

The venom in her voice was evident to everyone in the room.

[Proto Man]

“I suppose so,” Mireya replied, shrugging her shoulders as she took a sip of the tea. She glanced over at Proto Man for a moment before returning her gaze to the female mouse. “All depends on whatever goes down next, you know? This one over here is prone to running off at the first sign of something that needs solved or fixed.”

“Hey!” Proto Man interjected after realizing that the woman was poking fun at him.

Minnie smirked before shooting a momentary glare in Mickey’s direction. By the time she was looking at Mireya, her expression had softened back to its normal, saccharine smile. “I know the feeling,” she responded as Proto Man and Mickey both shuffled awkwardly in their seats.

After allowing the silence for fester for a few moments, the preteen machine opened his mouth. “So, uh, is this Ambrosia? I figured there’d be more to it than trees.”

“Oh no, Silly,” Minnie replied before taking a sip of tea. “Ambrosia is a town nearby. It’s centered on a place called Pokute Palace, where it’s ruled by Princess Guu.”

Proto Man let out an ‘ahh’ that pulled everyone’s attention in his direction. “I remember her, from Dante’s Abyss. She’s the one who gave the producers a big ‘f u’ and used an item to remove herself from the competition.”

A grin spread across Minnie’s features as she took another sip of the steaming tea. “I, unfortunately, did not get to witness that.”

“Minnie was locked up, remember?” Mickey interrupted as he turned to look at Proto Man. The machine nodded his head and looked back at his new friend’s wife.

“The Empire, right?” In his naiveté, Proto Man failed to notice the scowl the female mouse gave her partner before flashing a nod and a smile at his young friend. “Why were they after you?”

It was Mickey Mouse that answered once again. “An organization was trying to use her to blackmail me into supporting their evil intentions. They kidnapped her to draw me to them, but we managed to show them a thing or two.”

Proto Man furrowed his brow and wondered what an imperial organization would want with a pair of humanoid mice. “They’re not nice people,” he quipped. “Did you meet the leader of their police force?” Both mice shook their heads, which gave the robot a small degree of relief. “He’s a piece of work, trust me.” The preteen machine kept the story of the Copper Eye to himself, knowing that it wasn’t something to talk about over tea.

Even so, images of the maimed and broken bodies flashed into his head. Despite happening nearly two years ago, Proto Man clearly remembered the image of the stone-faced judge and his Imperial Space Marines gunning down the warehouse full of unarmed men, women, and children. He didn’t need to be a machine to have those images scarred permanently into his record. Back then, Samus and he had begrudgingly accepted the Empire… Samus had since been driven from the city, and Proto Man had slipped away a long time ago. What would Judge Dredd and the Coruscant authorities thing of Proto Man now? He’d spent the last two years wandering the Omniverse, invariably helping their enemies more than their own interests. Would they gun him down like those starving idealists? Would he be forced to murder his way through the gate as Samus had?

Either thought brought a metaphorical chill to the machine’s nonexistent spine.

“You okay, Blues?” Mickey asked. “You seem a little lost in thought,” he chuckled. It took Proto Man a moment to realize it was a joke, since his eyes were concealed behind black lenses.

The robot nodded. “Sorry, I was just recalling some unfortunate events from Coruscant. You’d do well to avoid that place… the people in power aren’t nice.” That was something that both of the mice could agree on, and the two of them both nodded their heads in unison. Next to Proto Man, Mireya shuffled in her small seat.

“Kingdom ain’t much better,” the half-night elf muttered. “The pendejos that are supposed to be in charge just let all the little regional bureaucrats run rampant and roughshod over the peasantry.”

“The pen-whatsits?” Mickey asked.

Mireya smirked but otherwise avoided answering that question as she slipped into a mild tangent. “The villages I lived in were filled with cloistered bigots. I don’t care that the guy all the way in the glittery city fought hand-to-hand combat with Diablo. He doesn’t pay attention to the little people suffering outside the city walls, and that’s where he shows his character.” Mireya’s smirk had descended into a scowl, and the half-night elf cut herself off with a sip of tea rather than continue to work herself up about the issue.

“I’ve been to Camelot,” Mickey interjected, trying to shift the subject of the conversation to less heated topics. “There are some… disgruntled people there, but for the most part, it wasn’t a terrible experience.”

“Been there too,” Proto Man added. “Samus, Harry, and I fought a dragon alongside Eighteen and Ganondorf. You remember those two from the competition?” Mickey nodded his heads. The mouse recognized the names, but he couldn’t exactly attach them to faces. “Cindy was there… She hurt Samus real bad and ran off with one of the dragon eggs.”

“Dragon eggs?” Mickey asked, his thoughts going back—somewhat unwillingly—to Dante’s Abyss. He remembered Erza, his true friend, standing against dragons and falling in combat. He’d been unable to save her, to even fight alongside her, because Deadpool had got the best of him.

“Yea,” Proto Man replied, seeing the demeanor of his friend shift. “The ones in Dante’s Abyss… I’m glad Cindy lost that blood treasure, but I wish it could have been Samus and I taking it from her hands after throwing her behind bars.”

“You wouldn’t want to see her killed?” Mireya asked, pulling all eyes back toward her. “With that things that puta did to you and that armored lady, you should want to see her head roll.”

The preteen machine responded by shaking his head. “No use spilling more blood. I prefer justice, not vengeance.”

Mireya rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face said she wasn’t trying to insult or belittle her young friend. “Idealist.” She added as she finished her cup of tea and leaned to place it on the counter. “Thank you, Miss Mouse.” The half-night elf said, tipping an invisible hat to her hostess.

“You’re very welcome, Mireya,” Minnie replied as she turned to look at the two boys in the room. “Did you want to meet the princess? She's very approachable, so I'm sure she'd like to meet the three of you."

Proto Man nodded his head. “That sounds like a great idea.” He said as he slid off the chair and looked over at Mireya, who seemed more than pleased to be leaving what she considered to be a somewhat cramped little structure. “We keep meeting royalty, isn’t this fun?”

The half-night elf smirked as Minnie collected the remaining tea cups and deposited them in her sink for later. “I guess,” she shrugged as she went to go collect her shoes. “As long as this one doesn’t hate me because I don’t worship Elune or have mauve skin, I’ll be happy.”

“Hmm?” Minnie said from the other side of the clubhouse, prompting Mireya to glance over her shoulder at the little female mouse.

“That’s another story,” Mireya shot back as she strapped up her leather boots and slipped through the clubhouse entrance, leaving Proto Man and the two mice behind.

[Mickey Mouse]

Minnie Mouse did not appreciate the resolve in her husband’s eyes when he returned from his meeting with Princess Guu.

“So… how was she?” the lady mouse asked, noticing the absence of Blues’ night-elf friend from their party. The former Queen supposed that Mireya had found her way into some other section of the city following the meeting with Guu; she made a note to herself to go and visit the girl sometime later. Perhaps, if the departure of her husband and the preteen machine truly was inevitable, they could find something in common in the absence of the men—and she used that word hesitantly—that so often stood by their side in their travels.

Mickey, meanwhile, had grown increasingly worried as he and Proto Man had gotten nearer and nearer to the Clubhouse. His wife, he knew, had a temper that could not be quelled easily, and he had already made the unfortunate mistake of setting it off once since they’d been reunited… did he dare risk invoking her anger again?

The truth of the matter was that he had to. He hated it, but the compulsion to further explore these new locales overwhelmed him. He told himself that it was for their own good; that perhaps, in his travels, he’d find some clues about the nature of this Omniverse, and in those clues he’d be able to piece together a way back to he and Minnie’s own universe. Those hopes, though, stood on shaky legs. Minnie had seemed so certain that they had been sentenced for life to this particular prison—although, admittedly, she saw some silver lining in their abduction by Omni that Mickey could not find, no matter how hard he looked.

Certainly, the best thing that had occurred since his coming here had been his discovery of many people who, at the very least, wanted to spend their time and resources making the lives of this realm’s citizens better. Samus, Harry, Erza, and—most recently—Blues. Another hope he had—certainly the more plausible one, and the one he held onto harder—was that he would find one of his friends from the Abyss somewhere. That maybe… with enough effort… they could do something about the more awful things about this place.

Maybe, if some things could be fixed, he could convince himself not to be so down about spending the rest of his days here.

At the end of the day, though, all roads pointed out the doors of the Clubhouse. And he could see in his wife’s eyes as they reentered her presence that she knew that, and was not happy about it. But there really wasn’t any other option. Not that he could see.

“The princess? Oh, she was fine,” Blues piped up, noticing Mickey’s lack of response. He didn’t have the nerve to speak just yet. “Very welcoming.”

“Sounds like Guu,” Minnie nodded, sweeping further into the room. “Did she bestow any titles upon either of you? She named me a lady! Did I tell you, that, Mickey? Princess Guu named me a lady of Ambro—”

“We’ve gotta be goin’, Minnie,” the mouse looked up, making eye contact for the first time since they’d returned. Minnie’s fake smile immediately drooped into a frown, and her face flushed red, but Mickey couldn’t tell whether it was with anger or whether she was holding back tears. “I’m sorry, Min, but Blues and I have got to get on our way. You understand, ri—”

“Wahhhhhh!” The latter, then.

The lady mouse burst into a fit of sobs, and Mickey’s eyes grew wide as she fell to her knees on the ground, tears streaming down her furry cheeks. Proto Man stood idly behind the male mouse, not really knowing what to do about the girl’s sudden outburst of sadness. Mickey, though, knew exactly what to do. He rushed to her side, wrapping her in an embrace and letting her cry into his shoulder for a moment before even trying to say anything else to her. He knew it would’ve been futile during those first few unintelligible protests, muddled by her weeping.

“I’ll be fine, Minnie,” Mickey assured his wife, caressing the side of her face and looking her straight in her eyes, “And I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Don’t you worry a bit, Miss Mouse,” Blues chimed in, finally finding something to say, “I’ll make sure you get him back in one, extremely healthy piece.” The preteen machine placed an armored hand on Mickey’s shoulder; the former King glanced up at his new friend, and smiled. Something about these people he’d met since he’d been here—they all seemed to mesh together so well, that perhaps… no, not possible.

Well, maybe. Perhaps he had been meant to come here after all.

Minnie swallowed the rest of her tears with a large gulp, aching to get some understandable words out. “I don’t want you to go,” she protested, placing her hand on Mickey’s face, “but… I suppose you’re going to no matter what I say, huh?”

Mickey glanced at Blues, and then turned back to his wife and simply nodded. She nodded back and, much to both of the boys’ surprise, laughed a bit.

“You always were stubborn,” she shrugged, turning her gaze to Blues, “I’m trusting you, now. Don’t let anything happen to him.” The red-armored boy nodded and smiled at the lady mouse. “Alright, Mickey—come back soon, okay?”

The mouse nodded, standing up and helping his wife back onto her feet. He looked up at his companion, and with a silent nod, they both knew it was time to head out. They hadn’t exactly made any concrete plans about what to do next—go to Camelot, Mickey supposed, where Samus had said she was, and try to find her, perhaps?—but the mouse had a pretty good feeling about the adventure.

Blues slipped through the doorway, but Mickey took one last glance at the love of his life.

“I love you, Minnie.”

“I love you, too.”

[Proto Man]

Although he had watched Princess Guu compete in Dante’s Abyss, Proto Man had still been taken aback by the girl. For someone who didn’t look old, she certainly had a certain air around her that betrayed what had to certainly be unique origins. Of course, Proto Man himself was a sentient machine masquerading as an almost teenager, so he didn’t dwell on it too much.

Despite it being a first meeting, Guu was extremely welcoming to both of them, offering them the freedom to come and go from Ambrosia as they pleased. Apparently, Proto Man’s exploits and accomplishments had become known information while he wasn’t paying attention. Guu had plenty of questions about the nature of the Blighted Dell. He promised the girl that he would send her his files (technically Wood Man’s) on the nature of the Blight, which seemed to please her, although it was hard to tell). When she brought up a possible connection between the Blight and the Scorched Grove, Proto Man feigned ignorance, not wanting to go into detail about the corruption and death of his sibling.

While the meeting was pleasant and took on a very personal tone in a matter of minutes, it wasn’t long before Princess Guu was being summoned to deal with issues within the city limits. After quick farewells and promises to meet again ‘soon,’ the three primes went their separate ways.

Proto Man figured something was up when Mireya stayed behind to have a few closing words with Princess Guu. By the time the half-night elf exited the room, Mickey had already wandered off, allowing the pair of old friends to speak among themselves.

“I’m going to stay here,” Mireya stated bluntly as she glanced out the nearby window. “Guu is okay with me building a little place out in the woods.”

The robot furrowed his brow behind his visor. “What do you mean ‘stay’? You’re just going to go back to hunting in the woods?”

Mireya shook her head. “Not this time… something a little more fixed, I think.” The woman frowned slightly. “Maybe I’ll have a little garden? It’s nothing against you, Blues, I just think I need to take some time to relax.” The woman pushed up a sleeve to reveal a variety of scars and partially healed bruises. “I’m not like you, I bruise,” she said, smiling despite the defeated look on the android’s face.

“I understand,” Proto Man muttered, knowing that the woman who stood before him was made of flesh and blood. If she bled too much, she would die, and unlike the growing number of primes in the Omniverse, she would not reappear at the fountain. She’d be gone, and he’d only have himself to blame for dragging her along on all his gung-ho/somewhat bullheaded schemes to right the variety of wrongs in the world. “You should keep in touch with Mickey’s wife… I think she’d like the company.”

The half-night elf snickered. “I guess I should get use to the taste of tea then.”

With a smile, Proto Man held out a hand. Mireya chuckled and shook hands with the preteen machine. Before either could speak, the half-night elf undid the necklace that hung around her neck and handed it to her friend. “Keep it.”

“Thank you,” Proto Man replied as he secured the necklace and readjusted his scarf. The little piece of bone had been part of some monster from the rivers of the Green, and while he didn’t know the entire story, he was aware that Mireya usually wore it all the time, even when she slept. Whatever it was, it was important to her, which made it all the more important to him. “I’ll be back soon.”

At that, Mireya snickered once more. “We’re not Minnie and Mickey… you don’t have to make promises you know you can’t keep,” with a final smirk, Mireya made her way off in another direction, leaving Proto Man alone in the hallway. The preteen machine was only left with his thoughts for a few moments before Mickey Mouse came walking up behind him.

“You’re all by yourself,” he replied as he glanced around the hall for a sign of their taller companion. “Where’s Mireya?”

Proto Man turned around and tried to put on a good front for the mouse. “She said she had a lot of business to take care of elsewhere in this verse.”

“So she won’t be coming back to the clubhouse with us?” Mickey asked, his shoulders sagging slightly when he saw the frown on his friend’s youthful visage. “Awwww, I hope it’s nothing too dangerous.”

“I don’t think so,” Proto Man replied before gesturing toward the door. “We should probably head back.” With that, the two started to make their way out of the palace. While both the mouse and the machine were usually quite chatty, they made the journey back to the Clubhouse in near silence. They only shared a brief exchange over the fact that both had spoken with Samus Aran, who was in Camelot. Although neither of the came out and said it, they both knew where they’d be heading in the near future. Even if they didn’t find the somewhat elusive bounty hunter, the pair were both resolved to keep ‘on the road.’ For Proto Man, he knew he wasn’t ready to return back to Coruscant, despite the years of travel, and while Mickey loved his wife and their home, he was perpetually consumed by the urge to explore this massive and strange world.

Mickey’s Post

With the Clubhouse vanishing into the forest behind them, the pair made their way toward the gate that would usher them into the Nexus.

“You think she’s still there?” Proto Man asked, glancing over at his mouse companion.

“Huh?” Mickey replied, some confusion in his big eyes as the pair plodded toward their next destination.

“You still think Samus is in Camelot?”

The mouse, understanding the question, gave a smile and a quick nod. “I’m sure she is!” He replied, his disposition a little brighter than when they first left the Clubhouse. “And if not, I’m sure that we’ll discover something just as exciting.”

Proto Man smiled as well. “Yea, I’ve heard some neat things about Minas Tirith… they have a floating city or something.”

“I heard wizards.”

“Yea! Harry Dresden lives beneath these old ruins near the city… we should see if he’s around somewhere too!”

Mickey grinned as they passed through the Scorched Grove. Just a few days ago, the location had marked their first real meeting, and while they had dropped from four to two, the pair of undersized primes had all the more enthusiasm as the trekked toward unknown objectives and limitless adventure.