Two days later.
Helios stood by the window of Merlin's cottage, arms folded, staring into the dark clouds that curled around the edges of Radiant Garden. His eyes were tired—not red-rimmed or heavy-lidded, but the kind of tired only certain people could recognize. The kind that came not from battle… but from babysitting.
Behind him, the faint creak of the wooden floor gave away movement.
"Clothes are on the chair," he called over his shoulder. "Don't forget to dry your hair this time."
No response.
Helios sighed.
It had been two days since Alira had awakened, and they'd passed in a fog of quiet compliance. She did what he asked—but only what he asked. He had to tell her everything. Everything.
"Time to wake up. Get dressed. Walk to the table. Sit. Pick up the spoon. Eat."
She wasn't helpless, exactly. Her body worked. Her eyes followed. Her voice, when used, was calm and clear. But her will was nonexistent.
And that unnerved him far more than if she'd been hostile.
"She doesn't fight," he muttered, voice low. "She doesn't argue. She just waits. Like a puppet waiting for strings."
He tilted his head toward the cottage. "And I'm the one holding them."
He stepped back inside.
Alira sat at the edge of the bed, her legs crossed at the ankle. She was still in the dark-toned version of the tunic and asymmetrical leggings Helios had pieced together for her. Her hair was still slightly damp from the bath he'd reminded her to take. Her eyes followed him across the room, but she said nothing.
Helios pinched the bridge of his nose. "I need to step out for a bit."
Alira blinked. "Okay."
"Just rest. Nap. Breathe. Pick one."
"…Okay."
He stared at her for another second.
Still nothing.
"Right. I'll be back."
The dark corridor spiraled open and swallowed him whole.
Radiant Garden was darker than it had been.
Even the skies—normally caught in gray overcast—now carried a slight sickly green tint. The corruption from the castle continued to spread, like mold from a forgotten corner.
Helios walked the path up to the spire again, cloaked once more in his dark form. The Emblem Heartless bowed their heads in silent recognition. None attacked. None even moved toward him. They had already accepted what he was.
One of them.
At the castle gates, the vines had grown thicker.
Inside, the throne room glowed with flickering emerald flame. The shadows curled like cats along the ceiling, retreating as he approached. The obsidian throne stood tall, veiled in smoke and arcane sigils.
And sitting upon it was Maleficent.
She did not rise.
But her smile curved sharp at the corners.
"Well, well," she said. "You do keep your appointments. I was starting to wonder if my little apprentice was still breathing."
"I'm not your apprentice," Helios replied, stepping into the light. "You barely taught me."
"Such a dull response."
"I nearly died whe you taught me to shapeshift remember?" he muttered, rubbing his neck.
Maleficent laughed once — a sharp, cutting sound.
"It suited you," she said. "You did not have the talent to learn any other way."
He smirked faintly. "Are you sure you're just not a bad teacher?"
Maleficent waved her hand with mild disinterest. "Then let's move on."
She reached to her side, and from the armrest beside her throne, produced a small bundle. She tossed it forward with casual grace.
Helios caught it easily.
Two hooded cloaks, black with a subtle shimmer of green and silver runes woven into the seams. They were long but archaic compared to the cloaks worn by those of the orginization.
They looked less like uniforms, and more like something out of an old legend. Something a cursed traveler might wear on a haunted path. Hoods deep enough to veil the face. Cloaks long enough to touch the ground. Little Red Riding Hood if the forest fought back.
"They'll keep the darkness off the wearer," Maleficent said. "For a time. But it cannot hold back the scent of darkness forever."
Helios tucked them under one arm.
"Thanks."
"Oh?" she raised an eyebrow. "So polite today. Almost pleasant. That's suspicious."
He looked up at her. "I'm not here to argue. I'm here to repay."
"Good," she said smoothly. "Because I'm calling in your debt."
He nodded once. "What do you want?"
She stood, descending the steps slowly, her presence towering.
"I've been thwarted in two worlds," she said. "Two. Because of your meddling. So I think it's only fair that you… make up for that."
Helios raised an eyebrow. "And how do you propose I do that?"
Maleficent smiled.
"Simple. You'll take two other worlds for me instead."
Helios didn't blink.
"Alright."
There was a pause.
Maleficent narrowed her eyes. "No retort? No quip? No conditions?"
Helios shrugged. "A deal is a deal."
She walked a slow circle around him, her eyes narrowing further with each step.
"You're hiding something."
"I always am."
She stopped in front of him, lips curling. "Well, well. This might be fun after all."
Helios gave her a cold smile. "You want conquest? I'll bring you fire. Just tell me which world you want burned."
Maleficent stepped back onto her dais.
"Very well. I'll give you the worlds in due time. But know this: I want them under my rule, not ruined."
"Done."
She paused once more, then grinned.
"Oh, I do hope you show me something spectacular."
Helios turned toward the exit, the cloaks tucked under one arm, his steps echoing through the throne room.
He smiled to himself.
"It'll be a sight to see."