Little Mouse in the Big City

[Mickey Mouse]

Coruscant thrilled Mickey. The fast pace of this new, weirdly futuristic verse overwhelmed the little mouse, hypnotizing him more effectively than the serene locales of Camelot. Sure, the grassy fields and high battlements of the medieval realm painted a glorious picture, but what was he supposed to do with pictures? The city satiated his newfound thirst for adventure much more readily; after all, within his first moments here he found himself smack dab in the middle of a high speed chase.

In the end, he had lost the Twi’lek girl—that’s what Riku had called her, Twi’lek—and been left to deal with the boy, who claimed to know Mickey from their home world. The mouse, for his part, had never in his life met the boy, and dismissed his supposed “memories” of the Heartless invasion as one of Omni’s ploys—though, perhaps, he would admit, the matter deserved further thought.

That could come later, though. Now, he wandered around the many top tiers of Coruscant, busying himself with the different attractions. They literally had everything here—he had spent hours going up and down in a contraption called an elevator, pored over several books in a big tower called the Library of Coruscant, and even, at last, gotten that cheesecake from the factory place he had passed before getting caught up in that alien girl’s escape. For the record, it tasted even more delicious than he had ever imagined it could. This big city proved to be quite the excursion for the mouse, who had been looking for something more fun and relaxing ever since leaving the heck-hole that was Dante’s Abyss.

Tier 1 stretched out before the mouse, looking altogether like his big, shiny playground. He scurried down the roads, in and out of alleyways, looking for his next big adventure.

It turned out, however, the adventure was prepared to come to him.

“Stop right there,” a mechanically-altered voice spoke up behind him. The King turned to see a small squadron of white-armored soldiers—stormtroopers, he’d heard them called—clanking their way toward him. One of the soldiers tightened his grip on his futuristic rifle. The mouse’s nerves suddenly went through the roof. He hadn’t broken any laws or gotten into any trouble, really—what did they want with him?

“You talkin’ to me?” the mouse asked, though his inflection was much friendlier than that of the more famous utterance. A few meters away, the squadron stopped, looking like they wanted to keep a safe distance. Silly stormtroopers, Mickey giggled inwardly, I ain’t gonna hurt ya. “Whatsa matter, fellas?” Mickey squeaked, taking a step toward them.

The anxious trooper yanked his gun up, aiming it straight at the mouse’s gargantuan head. Almost automatically, Mickey’s hands shot up. The soldier in front—the leader, Mickey supposed—lifted a hand, signling the other trooper to stand down. “B-but—” the nervous one stammered, “they said he’s dangerous, captain.” Mickey’s brow furrowed—who said he was dangerous? And why the heck would they think that? He supposed he had showed off a good display of power in Dante’s Abyss, but these guys had nothing to fear from him; they were just enforcing the law.

“Stay calm, soldier,” the leader held his gesture firm, and the scared guy lowered his weapon. The captain turned back to Mickey. “Mickey Mouse, under the authority of the Empire and its great leader, Emperor Palpatine, you are hereby placed under arrest.”

Mickey waited for the punch line.

“…alright, I’ll bite,” he shrugged, chuckling, “what exactly am I under arrest for? I haven’t done nothin’ wrong.”

“The Empire has the authority to place individuals it deems particularly dangerous under arrest,” the captain explained, and Mickey blinked a few times, puzzled. “The policy is in place so that our researchers may study you and discover how much of a threat you pose to us—if you pose a threat at all.”

“Whoa, wait just a goshdarn minute,” Mickey halted the man’s explanation. “You’re tryin’ to arrest me so you can turn me into a lab rat?” The mouse lowered his gloved hands, taking a few steps away from the contingent of pearly-white soldiers. The captain raised his hand again, and immediately the squadron’s rifles went up in unison, almost like perfectly-practiced choreography. Now, they all aimed for him. “Well, there’s absolutely no need for that,” the mouse rolled his eyes.

“Or, at least,” he continued, “there wasn’t.”

Shots rang out, and the King launched into a backflip. Red lasers scorched the ground where he stood as he maneuvered out of the way, and immediately ducked down a side alley. The clinking of the stormtroopers’ white armor followed him into the alleyway, and so the mouse broke into a sprint.

In his right hand, his Keyblade materialized, and he spun on his heel, bringing the blade up in front of him just as one of the blood-red energy bolts sped toward him. It bounced off the blue metal of his Star Seeker blade, along with several other bolts Mickey quickly deflected. “The more you fight,” the leader said, “the worse this is for you.”

“Actually,” the mouse shrugged, “the more I fight, the worse it is for you.” He aimed the Keyblade for the anxious soldier and shot off a Pearl, which collided into its target post-haste. He stumbled backwards, dropping his rifle on the ground with a thunk. When the piece of black metal slammed into the metallic ground of Coruscant’s top tier, it fired off another shot, which sped toward the mouse.

Mickey flipped clumsily out of the way, stumbling over the tier’s edge and plummeting off the side of the platform into the city’s lower levels. High above, the stormtroopers rallied around their injured comrade.

[Mickey Mouse]

The fall felt like it took forever.

Tiers swept by the mouse as he screamed bloody murder. Within seconds, the pomp of Tier One had all but disappeared, the levels passing by him seeming rougher around the edges. After he’d spent about twenty seconds tumbling, a platform below approached him at incredibly fast speeds, and he quickly conjured one of his Bubble shields around him, bouncing harmlessly off of the metallic surface.

The shield dissipated as he regained his footing. He stood in the middle of a small bridge between two larger platforms, each populated with huge, skyscraper-like structures. For all intents and purposes, he might have still been on Tier One, were it not for the fact that the upkeep of these buildings had sort of fallen to the wayside.

Despite their decrepit-looking appearance, the buildings on this tier lit up with bright lights. Various signs illuminated the streets that seemed to be shrouded in a perpetual nighttime, including one that towered over the street reading “WELCOME TO TIER FOUR” in big, blue letters. So, the mouse thought to himself, Three levels down. His eyes turned to look up, but the ledge on Tier One that he had slipped off of had long been obscured by whatever stood between this and the very top of Coruscant. Those stormtroopers would not be able to find him here—not for a while, at least.

The mouse contemplated, for a moment, trying to make his way back up the levels, but in the end, that seemed like folly. For one, the moment, he stepped onto one of the more affluent tiers, the Empire’s guards would surely be upon him. And another thing: he didn’t really know exactly how to get back.

Why had those troopers attacked him, though? The thought resurfaced as the memory of the attacking, white-armored soldiers rushed back into his mind. He hadn’t done anything against the law; far from it, in fact: he’d actually tried to help the Empire capture a fugitive. So why had those guys seemed so dead set on bringing him in and locking him in the slammer? The question puzzled the mouse.

Mickey stepped tentatively off the bridge and into the concrete jungle that made up Tier Four. Around him, the denizens of this area seemed to mill in and out of seedy-looking establishments with a certain level of discreetness, and it immediately became clear to the King that all the rumors he had heard about this level were true. This was not a place of wealth, like the top levels of Coruscant. Rather, this tier thrived on something altogether unlike the pageantry he had become used to in his days on Tier One. Here, there seemed to be no illusions of grandeur. Things were tough, and people were going to be tough to get what they wanted. It all of a sudden seemed very uninviting to the mouse, reminding him just a bit of Dante’s Abyss.

Don’t get him wrong, though—at the end of the day, this place still held on to civilization much easier than Karl Jak’s island. Mickey had heard some nasty stuff about the lower levels of Coruscant, and he would much rather be stuck in the seedy underbelly of Tier Four than travel down to those lawless places.

Unfortunately, he had absolutely no idea which direction to turn. Thrall had sent him to Coruscant to find answers, but thus far, he had come up with absolutely nothing. He had paraded around the city for a few days now, hoping that he would just stumble upon something that would lead him to the answers he sought. Of course, that had been a terrible idea—it wasn’t like someone was just going to walk out of the shadows and offer him the chance to learn more about that yellow energy beam he had somehow managed to conjure, or even more information on how to get the heck out of the Omniverse and back to his lady love.

And that was when he saw it.

“BREAKING: Camelot Dignitary Reported Missing.”

“…what the heck?”

The news report droned out, echoing over the many other whirrs and whizzes of the city surrounding him. “According to reports from friends, the female, non-human Minas Tirith citizen disappeared a little over a week ago. At first, the ladies thought their little friend had just gone on a short trip, but when they could not make contact with her after a week, they reported her missing, believing her to have possibly been abducted for unknown reasons. Here is a picture of the missing person, whose name we are not at liberty to disclose.”

On the screen, the video of the newsman dissolved away to reveal the picture of the possible kidnapping victim. The mouse’s eyes went wide. Big ears, a red dress, and a glimmering golden tiara. Mickey stared at the monitor, and Minnie Mouse stared back at him.

[Mickey Mouse]

Minnie.

The male mouse’s jaw hit the floor. He had spent so much time searching for a way home so that he could get back to his lady love, and all the time, she had been right here—in the Omniverse—under his nose? How long had she been here? And how in the world had she gotten here? Had Omni summoned her, too? Was she a secondary? No, she couldn’t be a secondary… who would have brought her here but him? It had to be the real Minnie.

Mickey refused to let that go so easily, though; he had been roaming around Coruscant for almost a week now, and had been parading through Camelot for a few days before that, and somehow he had missed his lady love? He supposed, then, that she had been abducted during his time on that awful island. Dante’s Abyss kept racking up negatives—not only was it a crazy murder game that challenged any sense of morality its contestants tried to uphold, but now it had distracted his attention enough that he had failed to notice his own wife roaming about the Omniverse. The bottom line: Karl Jak’s game was not one of Mickey’s favorite things.

But he couldn’t focus on that anymore—now, he finally had a purpose. He had been wandering aimlessly through Coruscant for weeks, searching for a way to find answers to his many questions about this place.

What exactly was the Omniverse? How could he get out and make it back home, to the Disney Realms? And what were these new powers that flowed through his little mouse veins? He had yet to find a single lead on any of these, but now, seeing his wife’s face flashed up on the giant television screen, he might finally have a chance.

The only problem? He had no clue where to start looking for her.

The news report continued to flash overhead, describing reports by some ladies in Camelot that their mouse friend just up and disappeared one day. To be honest, Mickey didn’t think that sounded all that weird for Minnie; she would often abscond for a few days at a time back home, to go spread her queenly hospitality throughout the kingdom. The King had always striven to be as dedicated to their subjects as his lady love. Of course, he loved them just as fervently as she did, but he found it much harder to ease into his role as ruler than she did—she just seemed born for it, to be honest. Perhaps that was why he loved her so much.

His eyes flittered back up to her picture as it reappeared on the screen; he could not keep his eyes off of her. Of course, he’d had the photograph that he had conjured at the start—and even now, his gloved fingers slipped into his pocket to touch it—but this image, splayed across a giant television in the middle of Coruscant’s Tier Four, was more than just a visual representation of the girl he had fallen for so many years ago.

This picture gave him hope. He had started to resign himself to the fact that for the foreseeable future, he would have to make a life here in the Omniverse—away from anything familiar. Seeing his Queen’s face—knowing that she was here—sparked a fire deep within him that made him think he might be able to carve out some sort of life here, with her, at least until they managed to get back to the safety of their castle.

“Like what you see?”

The mouse spun around. A few yards away, a familiar face leaned against one of Tier Four’s older-looking buildings. Mickey’s eyes narrowed a bit as he stared into the face of the silver-haired boy who he’d met very briefly before Dante’s Abyss. The boy smirked, removing the hood of his long, black robe for the first time since the mouse had met him, and straightened himself up, placing his hands in the pockets of his robe and approaching Mickey. One of the King’s gloved hand rested on his keyblade. He would not be caught unawares.

“No need for that,” the boy chuckled, “I’m not going to hurt you, little mouse.” The silver-haired boy swished his hair to one side, moving some of it out of his face. He looked a little like Riku, but something was different about him… something was off.

“How did you know I was here?” the mouse frowned, taking a few steps back just as the boy took a few steps toward him.

“Lucky guess?” the kid smiled. He laughed a little bit, and Mickey glared at him—the mouse did not find this situation very funny. “Like I said,” the taller figure shrugged, “I’m a big fan, Mr. Mouse. We all are. Good to see you’ve decided to use your real name now, too. We were hoping you might.”

Mickey’s eyes narrowed. There was no way in the world this kid could just know everything that he seemed to know about him; although, he didn’t really know if it should surprise him anymore, since it seemed everyone knew much more about him than he had first expected. From Harry Dresden’s intimate familiarity with the mouse’s early history to that ninja doctor immediately recognizing him on sight to Deadpool’s obnoxious tirades about him during their travels together, it seemed that Mickey had made himself into quite the celebrity without even realizing it. He gripped the keyblade tighter, despite the boy’s reassurances. “Who the heck even are you?” he asked, swallowing nervously.

“Oh, of course, I haven’t told you my name,” the boy realized, scolding himself for being so impolite, “My name is Xehanort.”

[Mickey Mouse]

Mickey stared at Xehanort. Something about him struck the mouse as terrifyingly familiar.

Silence filled the air between them as the grey-haired boy’s smirk grew on his face. The mouse supposed that thus far, he had no reason to distrust the black-robed figure, but he couldn’t help it. Call it animal instinct, perhaps, but deep inside his little bones, something about this whole situation struck the mouse as very, very wrong.

“I suppose that’s not enough,” Xehanort straightened up, taking a few steps toward the mouse, “My name, that is. There’s no reason for you to take me sharing my name as any sign of goodwill, especially not… here.” The King narrowed his eyes. “My name is Xehanort,” he repeated, “and I am a secondary. Let’s get that out there, first. I’m not a prime, like you.” Mickey felt his grip on his keyblade instinctively loosen; as far as he knew, secondaries were nowhere near as dangerous as other primes. “I am, however, like you in a sense,” the boy continued, squatting down to be at eye level with Mickey, “…I’m from your world.”

The mouse doubled back a few more steps. This boy would not get too close to him. “You’re from the Disney Realms?”

Xehanort laughed, looking off to the side and shaking his head. “You know, for a King, you know very little about your kingdom,” he said, and Mickey shot him a violent glare. The mouse did not appreciate the man’s snark. “There’s so much more to your kingdom than the talking animals and fairytale princesses you rule over, King Mickey.”

Mickey’s brow furrowed. His frustration was apparent.

“Allow me to explain it to you, if you will?”

“A king does not need his subject to explain his kingdom to him,” Mickey spat. Xehanort simply smiled, seemingly not moved by the mouse’s hostility in the slightest.

“Oh, but King Mickey,” the silver-haired boy cocked his head to one side, “I am not your subject. Like I said, you rule over such a limited part of our universe—talking beasts, dainty princesses, a few outlandish worlds that have little to do with the rest. Hell, one of the worlds you count as part of your kingdom is the stomach of a whale. But farther off than that—farther than you have ever reached in your gummi ships—are worlds of a far different color, with much different people, and limits. Worlds you have yet to master.

“It is in these worlds,” Xehanort explained, “that the Heartless first took root.”

The Heartless. Mickey’s mind had not dwelled on those creatures since… well, he could not really remember. Dante’s Abyss and the various other events of his brief stay in the Omniverse had… distracted him. All of a sudden, the worry he felt for his world in his absence—and now, it seemed, Minnie’s—began to wash over him once again.

“Now, there’s something that ties us all together,” Xehanort pressed on in his monologue, despite Mickey’s unchanging expression. If nothing else, Dante’s Abyss had helped the mouse learned how to stay his ground. Xehanort’s smile grew further, this time expanding so far across his face that the mouse thought it might burst forth from his countenance. What in the world did he have in store?

“What?” the mouse pushed, “What ties us all together?”

Xehanort chuckled. “Oh, now he’s interested.”

“Tell me,” Mickey growled, unsheathing Star Seeker and aiming it at Xehanort. The man did not move; the mouse’s threats did not faze him whatsoever.

“Kingdom Hearts, of course.”

The words sounded all too familiar as they left Xehanort’s lips, but Mickey still could not place them. Why did they sound like something he should know? He felt like the term should conjure up an immediate image, but he had no image to match the feeling the phrase evoked.

He was afraid to ask the question. “…what is that?” he finally relented after a moment’s hesitation, slowly dropping Star Seeker to the ground. No matter how much he tried, the very mention of Kingdom Hearts somehow eased any doubts he had about Xehanort’s trustworthiness, though he had no idea what they were.

“Why, the life-force of our world, Your Majesty,” Xehanort grinned.

The mouse’s eyes widened as memories flushed through him. He saw a giant, blue moon, but it was not shaped like your everyday moon—no, rather, this moon took the shape of a heart, and glowed brighter than any star the King had ever seen grace the night sky. The mouse lifted his hand, and without warning, a yellow aura similar to the energy he had released during Dante’s Abyss enveloped it, humming lowly. Somehow, Kingdom Hearts had to be connected to the energies he had been able to control during the games, but…how?

“And the best part, King Mickey,” the silver-haired boy smiled, “is that I have created it here.”

Mickey did not hesitate.

“Show me.”

[Mickey Mouse]

The pair weaved their way through the alleys of Coruscant’s Tier Four.

“I should mention,” Xehanort spoke up after several minutes of silence, “I am the leader of a group… we call ourselves Organization XIII, for our thirteen members. That’s what this black cloak signifies—it is our uniform, you see.”

The mouse could not shake the increasing confusion that washed over him as Xehanort continued to explain the ever-changing situation to him. “A group?” he asked.

“A… coalition,” Xehanort expanded, “working toward a common goal.”

The next logical question escaped Mickey’s mouth without much hesitation. “And what exactly is that goal?” Something told him he didn’t want to know—but his penchant for noble action in the face of evil made him want to know exactly what he was dealing with. If Xehanort was working toward something the mouse judged was wrong, he would have no choice but to deal with it accordingly.

Xehanort paused, trepidation washing over him. “Well,” he started, seeming to struggle to put it correctly, “…well, it’s Kingdom Hearts of course. Creating it. Keeping it alive. Utilizing it correctly and making sure others utilize it correctly.”

“And how exactly do you think it should be utilized?”

“That would be telling.”

Mickey scowled. He didn’t like the silver-haired boy’s enigmatic answers, but he knew he would get nowhere by pressing, so he chose not to. Instead, he followed the boy to a large warehouse in one of the darker sections of Tier Four. The place towered over the mouse. He could not help but feel a certain sense of dread creep up his spine as Xehanort led him inside.

Once they crossed the threshold of the warehouse, though, all of Mickey’s doubts seemed to disappear. Inside the huge chamber, a fantastic yellow light illuminated everything. Just ahead, a circle of twelve men—dressed in black robes similar to the one Xehanort sported—stood in a semi-circle around a huge, glowing heart, yellow in color. Energy pulsed through Mickey Mouse’s hands as he found himself drawing nearer and nearer to Kingdom Hearts. He could not keep his thoughts inside for long. “What… how did you do this?”

Xehanort chuckled. “Well, that’s top secret information, Your Majesty,” the silver-haired boy scoffed, quickening his pace. “Gentlemen! May I have your attention, please?” The twelve other members of Organization XIII turned to face Xehanort. Almost, immediately, however, their eyes all fell to Mickey. “I have done what I have promised, and brought you all the only known Keyblade Master in the Omniverse,” Xehanort smiled, “or certainly the most powerful one.” Mickey’s brow furrowed at his companion’s little speech. “Your Majesty, forgive me for skipping the pleasentries with my twelve compatriots,” Xehanort turned back to Mickey, “but we’ve really got to be moving. You see, we’ve been waiting a long time for you. Ever since I first saw you in the Dante’s Abyss pre-show compound, in fact.”

“Waiting… for me?” Mickey stammered, confused. “I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t,” Xehanort shrugged, “I haven’t answered your questions yet. How did I create this Kingdom Hearts, you wonder? Obviously it isn’t the same as the one from our homeworld.”

Mickey nodded. That much was evident.

“You see, Kingdom Hearts requires the life force of… well, hundreds of people to survive,” Xehanort’s grin widened, “And it is my job—our job—to acquire that life force. We have spent a lot of time finding exactly enough Omnilium to create this, Your Majesty, but we found a way to… expedite the process. You see, it requires a lot more omnilium to create a secondary than it does anything else.”

Things began to get clearer for the mouse the more Xehanort talked. “So you used them to your advantage,” Mickey continued, guessing at the black-robed boy’s game. “You murdered a bunch of innocent secondaries and used the huge amounts of omnilium in their bodies to quickly make yourself this… thing.”

Xehanort nodded. “Exactly.”

“That’s awful,” Mickey scowled.

“I figured you might say that,” the silver-haired man sighed, “But alas, it doesn’t matter—it’s already done, and a… benefactor of ours, a prime, of course, has constructed this device for us, which can provide immense power to anyone who can wield its energy.”

“Which, I’m guessing, is your plan,” the mouse spat back, “Wield the energy to do something terrible. Conquer the Omniverse. What have you.”

“That all depends on your definition of what terrible is,” Xehanort replied, “but I suppose—in your very naïve point of view—our methods could be considered… less than moral. I assure you, we’re only looking out for the good of the Omniverse. We just have different ideas about what that means.” Xehanort lifted a hand, and a few of the Organization XIII members scurried off, for reasons unknown to Mickey. “Unfortunately,” the silver-haired boy continued, “we’ve run into an issue. Only a Keyblade Master can truly harness the power of Kingdom Hearts, at least in this world. Which is why—”

“—which is why I was able to do it in Dante’s Abyss,” Mickey interrupted.

“Yes, essentially,” Xehanort smiled, content that the mouse seemed to finally be on the same page. “Which is why we need you, Your Majesty. You can control our Kingdom Hearts… and if you aren’t prepared to join us, we’re prepared to try to take that power from you.”

If Mickey had eyebrows, he would have raised one at that idea. Take that power from him? What in the world did that mean? Did they want his Keyblade? Or did they have some method of taking his primeness away from him and transferring it to Xehanort? Perhaps, the mouse thought, he could be bluffing—but certainly they could incapacitate him. If the mouse was gone, then nobody in the entire Omniverse could control it, and they could figure out how without any potential interruptions. That must have been it, then—they planned to get rid of him if he refused to comply.

Certainly they must have come prepared, then, because his answer had been written from the very start.

“You can try,” he lifted his chin, unsheathing Star Seeker once again.

“Oh, but your Majesty,” Xehanort smirked, “I forgot to mention what was in it for you.” The black-robed boy waved his hand, and the mouse’s attention refocused on a shuffling behind the huge, yellow heart-moon. A familiar squeal erupted from behind there, and seconds later, a trio of similarly robed men emerged from hiding, escorting a very unhappy looking prisoner.

“Get your hands off of me this instant,” Minnie Mouse scolded her captors, trying her darndest to jerk away from their grip. “I refuse to be treated like this! I am a queen!”

“Minnie!”

The word escaped Mickey’s lips almost involuntarily, and the mouse queen looked up from her struggle and, for the first time in what seemed like forever, met eyes with her husband. She relaxed immediately, and the Organization XIII members took this moment to jerk her forward, carrying her to Xehanort’s side. Two of the men fell back as one held her next to the ringleader, presenting her to the Keyblade-wielding mouse.

For a few seconds, Minnie and Mickey just stared at each other, trying their best to convey with only their eyes the weeks of love they had missed. “You know what?” Xehanort smirked, the evil Mickey had seen from the start oozing out of his pores, “Let’s let them have a little reunion. Let her go.” His black-robed henchman released his grip on Minnie, and without another word, the Queen picked up her red dress and sprinted across the distance separating her and her husband, diving into his arms. He pulled her into a sweet embrace, planting a light kiss on her little mouse lips as finally, after weeks and weeks of searching, he was reunited with his lady love.

“What are you doing here?” Minnie separated from him, looking her husband up and down.

“Now or before?” Mickey asked with a smile.

“Now?” the Queen asked, a slightly puzzled expression washing over her face.

Mickey scoffed, as if the answer was obvious. “Rescuing you, of course, dollface.” Minnie smiled broadly, throwing herself into a hug with her long lost husband.

Mickey broke eye contact with his wife, and returned Xehanort’s glare, who had begun to stare at them. He shuffled Minnie behind him; the Queen kept a tight grip on his arm, not wanting to let him go now that she’d finally gotten him back. The silver-haired boy lifted another hand, and the other twelve members of Organization XIII lowered themselves into combat stances. Mickey lifted Star Seeker up once more.

“So I’m taking that as a no, then?” Xehanort quipped.

“You betcha.”

[Mickey Mouse]

Mickey lunged at Xehanort.

The mouse grunted as he swung Star Seeker down, slashing through air as the black-cloaked leader of Organization XIII swept to the side, out of the way. The silver-haired man let out a sinister chuckle, waving in reinforcements; the other twelve members of the coalition converged on him.

“Get away from my husband!” the female mouse burst into the fray, swinging a golden scepter she had summoned out of thin air and smashing it into the face of another, red-headed Organization member.

Mickey’s eyes grew wide. “You’re a prime, honey?”

“Who the heck would’ve summoned me?” Minnie shot back. Mickey couldn’t help but let a smile cross his face—he sure had missed her. “Now be quiet and fight, Mickey!” she yelled, launching her scepter once more into the face of another enemy. Mickey turned his attention to Xehanort, who had begun to laugh once again.

“Hey, what’s so funny, bub?” the mouse asked, stepping away from where his wife had begun to handle the rest of Organization XIII.

“Oh, nothing,” Xehanort hissed, “you two are just… adorable.” The last word dripped with acid, and Mickey’s smile drooped. He leapt at Xehanort again, once again slashing Star Seeker through empty air as the silver-haired boy proved he was too quick for the mouse. “Too slow, Your Majesty,” his opponent chortled, reaching into his cloak and pulling out a sword of his own, “Now let’s get you set straight, eh?”

Xehanort rushed the mouse, and Mickey ducked, rolling underneath the silver-haired man’s attack. Mickey’s keyblade swiped at Xehanort’s legs, connecting for the very first time and sending his opponent into the air with a shout. The black-cloaked man landed on the ground with a resounding thump, but just as Mickey thought he might gain the upper hand, he heard a squeal from behind him. He spun around to see one of the Organization XIII members grab Minnie by the collar of her dress and lift her up in the air.

“Take your hands off my wife!” he shouted, aiming his keyblade and shooting a Pearl. The little orb of white energy smashed into the chest of Minnie’s captor, knocking him back.

“There’s too many of them, Mickey,” Minnie called out to her husband, swinging her scepter at another nameless black cloak, “we can’t take them all by ourselves!” The male mouse growled, frustrated that Organization XIII had the numbers advantage.

For a few seconds, Mickey fumbled around in his pocket, hearing Xehanort groan behind him. A quick glance showed that the silver-haired boy was picking himself up off the ground once again, trying his best to find his sword while regaining his focus. The impact of the warehouse ground had hit him hard, it seemed. Finally, the King’s fingers closed around Earthshine, and he pulled the stone out of his pocket.

“What do you have there, Your Majesty?” Xehanort sighed, standing up to his full height again and leveling his sword at Mickey.

The mouse smirked. “Backup.”

He dropped Earthshine, and the stone hit the ground, exploding in a grand display of light. Out of the light, a giant, red-maned lion emerged; it pounced at Xehanort, who let out a blood-curdling scream as Simba pressed him to the ground.

“Ha,” Simba spoke, in perfect English, “pinned ya!”

“Come on,” Mickey shouted to the lion, and Simba quickly removed himself from the leader of Organization XIII and bounded toward his new master. Mickey reached with one of his gloved hands and seized on to a tuft of Simba’s fur as he passed, pulling himself up onto the animal’s back. The pair hurried toward where Minnie had started to become overwhelmed by Organization XIII’s fighters, and swiftly, Mickey reached out, offering a hand to his wife, which she took. He lifted her up onto Simba’s back and the lion made a bee-line for the warehouse’s exit. The black robe-clad fighters might have the numbers advantage, but they would not win the day.

Simba raced out of the warehouse and into Coruscant’s Tier Four, right into a squad of stormtroopers that seemed to have set up an ambush just outside the doors of the place. The lion skidded to a halt.

“What the heck’s going on here?” Mickey shouted to the group of white armored soldiers, who had all trained their laser rifles on the trio of talking animals.

“You really thought I was going to let you get away?” Xehanort’s voice came from behind them. The trio swiftly spun around, seeing the black robed members of Organization XIII circling up behind them. So, Mickey thought, these sons of guns are allied with the Empire. Mickey didn’t exactly know why the Empire had such a problem—well, maybe it would be better to say an interest in him, but with everything that had happened over the past few hours, it started to become a little bit clearer.

“Mickey Mouse and Minnie Mouse,” one of the stormtroopers called out, his voice mechanized and cold, “you have been mandated to Empire custody for an indeterminate amount of time, until Empire officials decide how you may best serve Emperor Palpatine.”

“That doesn’t sound too great,” Minnie sighed quietly in her husband’s ear.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Mickey grasped his wife’s hand, holding on tightly, “They aren’t ruining our reunion. Not on my watch.” The King tightened his grip on Star Seeker, leaning down into Simba’s fur. “Alright, buddy,” he whispered into the animal’s ear, “Let’s get out of here. Take no prisoners—but don’t kill ‘em.”

“You got it, boss,” Simba nodded. The lion sprinted forward, away from the Organization XIII members in the back and right into the squad of stormtroopers ahead of them. Energy bolts fired off from their blaster rifles, but the lion was too quick; he dodged and weaved through the ones that didn’t basically miss automatically. The lion king collided with one of the stormtroopers’ barricades, bursting through it and knocking down some of the soldiers on the other side. Minnie squealed a little bit again, wrapping her arms around her husband’s waist for safety as they hurried past the guards and up into the streets of Tier Four.

The clinking of the stormtroopers’ armor made up the soundtrack to the chase as they sprinted off behind Simba, Mickey, and Minnie. The lion’s speed way outmatched them, but the trio did not find themselves in an inconspicuous role in this chase; as they traveled up through Coruscant’s tiers, more and more stormtroopers became aware of their presence, whether through radio communication through the Empire’s ranks or just from seeing a lion racing through the streets with two anthropomorphic mice on its back.

Eventually, Mickey and Minnie found themselves back on the top tier of Coruscant, racing for the gate to the Nexus. They took a detour into an abandoned-looking alleyway once they’d lost most of their stormtrooper tails.

“Alright, Simba,” Mickey nodded, “see ya later!” The lion dissipated, returning to its form as a tiny, orange-colored gem. Mickey swiped up Earthshine and stuffed it in his pocket, turning his attention to his lovely wife.

“It’s so good to—oh,” he was interrupted as Minnie planted another kiss on his mouse lips.

“Good to see you too, handsome,” she smiled, holding her husband’s gloved hands for the first time in forever. “Now, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do, but first, let’s get the heck out of here, okay, buddy?”

Mickey nodded. You always were the smart one.

Mickey and Minnie headed for the gate to the Nexus, and once they decided the coast was clear, they crossed the threshold and left Coruscant behind.