Day 5 Morning

[Mickey Mouse]

Pre-F2F with Sasuke, Orihime, Victor, Trunks, and Amaterasu

Death. Such an ugly word. Mickey made a point not to associate with the concept; it made him feel queasy in his stomach just thinking about it. Vivid memories rushed back to him of the pig man and Gilgamesh ripping Erza apart with their dragons, or of the sinking feeling that washed over his body when Karl Jak had announced Samus’s name among the dead. Following Dante’s Abyss, he had tried his best to steer clear of death whenever possible—he’d only ever killed once, on accident, and he wasn’t about to repeat that.

Of course, letting death hang over him like a big dark cloud in the Omniverse probably wasn’t incredibly necessary—as far as Mickey knew, unless you got banished, dying was temporary. There was a certain amount of safety living here, if you could be comfortable in immortality. Death was impermanent. That took out some of the sting—or it should have—right?

And yet, his heart still dropped when he laid eyes on her.

“No.” That was the first word that escaped the mouse’s mouth. A blanket denial of whatever he was seeing. A moment passed as he stared at Belle’s crumpled, broken form, still clutching the Shield of Perseus. And then he broke into a sprint. “No, no, no, no, no,” he muttered as he ran, sliding down onto his knees next to her.

He pushed her onto her back, placing a gloved hand on her neck and feeling for a pulse. Nothing—but maybe it was just hard to feel there. He leaned down, pressing an ear to the redheaded girl’s chest.

No heartbeat. No breath. No anything.

“Wake up,” he pleaded, overlarge fingers wrapping around her shoulders as Mickey tried to shake the life back into her. “Wake up, dammit,” he cursed in desperation, shaking and shaking and shaking until he was afraid he might rattle her brain if he shook her anymore. That is, if the litany of head injuries she’d suffered hadn’t done that already. Blank eyes stared up at him. A bitter acceptance washed over the mouse as he reached up and shut her eyelids.

She was dead. And he hadn’t been able to stop it. Tears welled up inside his tired eyes as he lifted her up and slung her haphazardly over his shoulder. She might have been a small girl, but relative to him, she was unwieldy. He picked up the Shield of Perseus and began to drag it along behind him.

He’d failed her. Just like Erza. Could he ever make sure they would be safe? Or would they still die no matter how much he worked to save them?

Back to Blues, he supposed. To finish this nightmare.

Post-Warlock Battle

“…is it over?” Mickey spoke up first.

The prime with the music gun, Crowley, held Teucer’s helmet in his hands, the disintegrated body of the Warlock at his feet. So that was that, then. The man had literally been transformed into dust.

Mickey let out a deep, relieved sigh, and crumpled against Belle. The two of them had been tossed out of the main conflict near the battle’s end, landing together just outside of the goat-like man’s range. Before they’d had a chance to get back up, the purple-haired prime and Crowley had managed to subdue the Warlock for good. Now, all that remained of the evil magician had begun to be swept up by the wind.

“Comfy?” the mouse asked his friend.

“Kind of,” she answered. Mickey didn’t think this entire situation could’ve been described any more accurately than in that brief exchange.

Belle wrapped her thin arms around Mickey, pulling him close. The mouse’s ear pressed against her chest, this time he could hear her heart beating loudly and quickly. The rapid percussion was a welcome sound, and it forced a smile onto the King’s dirtied face. Finally, after almost five days of relentless battle, they could return the relics to Teucer and go home. Well, back to the Omniverse proper, anyway—back to his quest to find his way back home.

Where would he go, anyway? He supposed a trip to Ambrosia was in order. Reuniting himself with Minnie would be the natural course of action. He’d been gone so long, and now that he’d been out of reach even through his communicator or over the Dataverse for several weeks—between the Battle of Nippur and this excursion into what seemed to be something of a Hero’s Graveyard—she would undoubtedly be even more worried about him than normal, if that was even possible. Yeah, it seemed like the best idea would be to make his way back to the Clubhouse and let her know he and Blues were safe and sound.

Something pulled him away, though. A nagging feeling that tugged at the back of his brain that maybe, his work in Nippur wasn’t quite done. He and Blues had slipped out unnoticed in the aftermath of the battle, but something told him his work in the desert city wasn’t done. After all, most of the people who lived there were innocents; merely normal citizens, who lived under Gilgamesh’s thumb and now had no direction and no leader to show them how to go.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sensation of Belle sliding out from beneath him. In the silence, Blues and Link had made their way over to the pair, and had taken seats on either side. Without a word, the redheaded girl marched over to where the Warlock had disintegrated and began ripping sections of his robes away.

“…what’s she doing?” the Hylian asked, leaning over to the mouse.

“I… I’m not sure,” Mickey responded honestly. He moved up onto his knees, trying to get a better look at what his companion was up to. Briefly, he shared a confused glance with Link, and in that moment decided that despite all the trouble they’d gotten into early in the game, this boy was someone that Mickey could count on. That he could trust. He liked knowing that, now—too few people in the Omniverse were trustworthy. He needed to hang on to as many good ones as he could.

Belle, meanwhile, had begun to make her way over to the blue-haired man (who looked rather worse for wear) and his friend, who now cradled him on the ground, the Helmet just a little ways away. They exchanged a few words, but the trio of boys couldn’t hear any of them.

“What’s she saying?” Blues asked.

“I dunno,” Mickey shrugged.

“Listen!” Link waved an arm, leaning forward.

Their most spitfire companion snarked at Crowley, and then made her way over to the Warlock’s ruins again and picked up the rest of his clothes. Mickey’s evil senses began to tingle, but nothing happened, so he remained silent.

Moments later, she’d returned to them and begun ripping off what remained of her shirt. Mickey reddened almost immediately and turned around; Blues did the same, and after some prodding, so did Link. When they had permission again to look, Belle wore the Warlock’s clothes as a sort of dress that, apparently, served its purpose but—to quote the girl—“smelled like ass.”

“I thought he was a goat.”

“Right.”

Mickey rose to his feet, grabbing the Shield of Perseus and holding it out for examination. A quick glance around and a little bit of thought led Mickey to believe that t the relics were all accounted for. The sword remained with the redhead who’d tried to best them for the defibrillator and then again, later, with the ninja he’d fought at the end of Dante’s Abyss. Crowley had two of them, Teucer’s helmet and his greaves. And then, in their company, the shield, a pair of bracers, and a breastplate which Link wore over his emerald-green tunic.

“So what now?” Link asked, glancing around.

“We get this shit back to Teucer,” Belle answered curtly, crossing her arms and looking around their surroundings. “Back to the temple, I guess.”

“Yea,” Blues nodded, “That seems like the best course of action. Maybe once we get everything safely back to him, he’ll send us home.” Mickey once again cringed a little bit at the word choice—home wasn’t anywhere in the Omniverse, but he supposed heading back to the Dunes was better than staying on this island any longer. The place was literally coming apart at the seams.

“Alright,” Mickey Mouse said, “Then let’s get going, right?” The group took a deep breath—yep, off to the Temple. That should be their next goal.

“Hey everyone!” Mickey called to the group of primes scattered across the site of the final battle. “We’re gonna go give this stuff back to Teucer, okay? Come with us if you want!” He smiled, waving an ungloved hand at the group and then spinning around and beginning to march toward the cave’s eastern entrance, his trio of companions not far behind.

“Hey, you guys,” Link spoke up from the back of the group, “Thanks for letting me join you all, back there.”

“No prob,” Mickey grinned, and turning back, “It’s hard to find friends in this rotten place, I know—we’ve got your back, pal!” Blues and Belle nodded in agreement.

“Besides, you’re the Hero of Time,” Belle added, “you’re, like, super cool.”

Link quickened his stride so he was next to Mickey, and leaned over into the mouse’s ear. “…does this happen a lot?”

The mouse’s brow furrowed. “I mean, sorta,” he squeaked, “I’ve had some people say some weird stuff to me before like she does. But nothing as extreme as that stuff she said to you! Honestly, I think the head injuries are just making her a little loco if you know what I mean! Play, Boy said to watch out for that.”

“Loco?” Link questioned.

“¿No hablas español?” Mickey chuckled. “Crazy! Means she’s crazy.”

“I’m right here, assholes,” Belle scowled behind them. “Whispering doesn’t work when you’re like four steps in front of me.”

“Sorry!”