Darkness pooled like liquid velvet across the obsidian floor of the throne room. The two figures lay bound at the center of a grand, circular mosaic—one rotund and sea-born, the other angular and desert-cloaked. They were remnants left by Helios, one unconscious and the other disgraced.
Maleficent stood above them with the calm of a conductor readying her orchestra.
With a casual flick of her wrist, the chains of darkness binding them unraveled like smoke. The metallic groan of dissipating magic echoed briefly before vanishing into silence. Her staff tapped once, sending a pulse of emerald energy into the room.
"Sleep," she whispered, and Jafar's eyes fluttered, then shut tight. Ursula remained unconscious, her chest rising and falling like waves under a storm.
"Now… let's do something about those cluttered little minds."
Her eyes glowed a deep, poisonous green. Raising both arms, she cast a twisting hex of sleep-forged memory—the tendrils of her spell split in two, latching onto their temples. Cursed and primal energy drifted into the air like falling leaves, etching new truths into their dreaming thoughts.
"You never met Helios. You never lost. You met me and I made an offer. You refused my first offer and tasted defeat at the hands of those in your world. Now I've invited you two here to give you a second chance at accepting my offer."
The spell locked in place with an audible snap. Maleficent's heels clicked sharply as she walked back to her throne, her staff tapping the floor with the rhythm of her satisfaction. She turned slowly, and with a lazy wave of her hand, lifted both bodies into the air, draped in shadow like puppets held aloft by strings of void.
Then, with a snap of her fingers, wake.
Ursula's eyes shot open first, wild and gleaming with confusion. Jafar followed, blinking hard as the chamber came into focus.
"Where…?" Ursula rasped.
Jafar scowled, looking from side to side. "You…"
Maleficent smiled like a snake stretching its jaw. "Welcome back. These portals of darkness can be slightly disorienting. Now I trust you're ready to hear my offer?"
Ursula hovered upright, her tentacles curling beneath her, sluggish but alert. "You're still holding a grudge about such a thing?"
"No," Maleficent said smoothly. "I came to you. And I offered you power—before you spat in my face. However, I'm a bigger person. I saw that you both recently suffered quite the defeat."
Jafar rubbed his temple, murmuring, "I was just careless. That is all. Soon, my enemies will fall to ruin. I just need more competent minions."
"Precisely," Maleficent purred, descending the steps from her throne. Her long, sweeping cloak trailed behind her like a living shadow. "I can give you the ability to win."
Ursula narrowed her eyes. "What do we get for accepting your little 'offer' this time? I don't see any minions here."
Maleficent waved her staff toward the walls of the chamber. Shadows coalesced like smoke, and from the darkness, Heartless poured in—silent, orderly, countless. Soldiers, Armored Knights, Bandits, Screwdivers—all kneeling, bowing their heads.
Jafar's eyes widened.
"Like I proposed, you'll gain an army," she said, "not of men, not of slaves—but of pure darkness. Creatures of instinct and hunger, loyal only to me… and to those I appoint. I'm sure you've controlled a few, but those will attempt to steal your heart. These will obey you without any risks."
Ursula hissed in awe. "You'd give us control of these?"
Maleficent smirked. "On loan, of course. You will be my field generals—commanders of your worlds. Succeed, and you may keep what you conquer. Fail…" Her gaze turned sharp. "And I will recover my assets."
Jafar's lip curled. "I've no need of your shadows. I am the vizier. A sorcerer. A—"
"A fool who seeks a lamp to gain power," she interrupted, voice dripping with venom. "Do not mistake your ambition for ability. If you had what you claimed, you would not be here—at my mercy."
Jafar's fists clenched, but he said nothing. Because in Maleficent's words was a veiled threat, meaning if she didn't get a satisfactory response, they might fall to these heartless.
Ursula, meanwhile, moved forward, tentacles rippling. "Why help us at all?" she asked, suspicious. "You're powerful enough to take the worlds yourself."
"Because," Maleficent replied, voice silky and dangerous, "I am not interested in ruling one miserable ocean or a sunburnt palace. I seek dominion over everything—but I do so through strategy, not sweat."
She leaned closer, emerald eyes burning. "You are my opening moves. My knights. My kings. I raise you now, so that when I do make my play… the board is already mine."
"You want pawns," Jafar said, disdain in his voice.
"I want tools," she corrected. "Sharp ones. Useful ones. Ones who know when to cut, and when to kneel. Besides, am I not also a tool for you to use?"
Ursula's tongue flicked over her lips. "And what would we have to do?"
"Conquer your worlds. Subjugate their protectors. Eliminate those who would oppose us. And when I call—you answer."
She turned slowly and sat upon her throne again, raising her hand to admire the clawed tips of her gloves. "Simple, really."
Jafar scoffed, still bitter. "And if we refuse again?"
A single raised hand was all it took.
The Heartless surrounding the room surged forward in perfect silence. Dozens of them—an overwhelming tide of black, clawed, mindless forms.
Then, with another gesture, they stopped mid-step.
Frozen like statues.
"Consider this a glimpse of the alternative," she said, tone flat. "If you reject me, I might be unable to stop them quickly enough a second time."
Silence hung between them. The sound of Ursula's breathing echoed faintly off the dark marble.
Then Ursula smiled—a slow, wicked, calculating smile.
"I accept."
Maleficent's eyes gleamed.
Jafar hesitated. His pride warred with his pragmatism.
Finally, he lowered his gaze. "Fine. But I answer to no one."
"You answer to power," Maleficent corrected, her smile returning. "And power now answers to me."
She rose again and clapped her hands once.
The Heartless retreated, swallowed back into the shadows.
"Good," she said, walking between them. "Then we begin." She tapped her staff to the floor. "You will return to your domains. Start small. Gather influence. Let them think you've broken free. And when the time is right... we strike."
Ursula gave a low chuckle. "A second chance. I won't waste it. The trident will be mine."
Jafar merely turned away, cloak billowing. "I will not be outdone again."
Maleficent stood at the center of the now-empty room, shadows dancing along the walls, eyes alight with pleasure.
"My dear acquaintances," she whispered to herself. "Let the games begin."