The dark corridor peeled open in the heart of a kingdom that was no longer whole.
The air of Radiant Garden was different now—thicker, more oppressive, filled with the presence of the Heartless that swarmed its broken streets. The proud city had been reduced to a hollow shell of its former glory, its grand spires fractured, its cobblestone roads cracked and overtaken by shadow. What little light filtered through the sky was dim and sickly, as though the world itself shied away from looking upon what it had become.
From that swirling vortex of darkness, Helios stepped out first, his boots hitting the stone floor of what remained of the castle's throne room. The place was both familiar and foreign—parts of the original Radiant Garden architecture still stood, but the rest had been twisted, reshaped by dark magic into something alien and predatory.
At the far end of the hall sat Maleficent.
She was not on the throne. Instead, she was seated at a table that could not possibly have existed here before—a table that looked as though it had been conjured by her will alone, perfectly placed as if it had always belonged. The table was long and elegant, its surface black as polished obsidian, etched with curling green runes that seemed to writhe faintly like living vines. Beside her, Jafar poured tea into delicate cups as Ursula reclined in her chair with a smirk, watching the newcomers with the lazy disinterest of someone who assumed they already knew how the game would play out.
Maleficent turned her head at their arrival, and a slow smile curved her lips. Her voice came in that honeyed, motherly tone she so often wore when addressing Helios.
"Well, well… if it isn't my wayward child," she said warmly, though her eyes gleamed with something far sharper than affection. "Welcome home."
Helios didn't even slow his stride as he crossed into the chamber. His voice was flat, cold.
"Drop the act, Maleficent."
The sorceress laughed softly, an almost musical sound that made the shadows in the room stir. She rested her chin lightly against the back of one hand, still smiling as though his irritation were the most charming thing in the world.
"My dear boy," she said, "you wound me. Must we always greet each other like this?"
Helios's gaze didn't waver.
"Yes."
Her smile widened at that, the edges sharpening into something predatory. "How delightfully stubborn." She gestured with a graceful sweep of her hand, and two chairs materialized at the table—one beside her, one across from her—formed of the same black, material as the table itself. "Come. Sit. It's been far too long since we last shared a cup of tea together."
Helios slid into the seat without hesitation, his movements deliberate. Hades, who had followed him through the corridor, grumbled under his breath but sat as well, clearly only doing so because Helios did. The god of the underworld, still chained, folded his arms, already scowling at the company, but neither Helios nor Maleficent spared him so much as a glance.
"Jafar," Maleficent said, her voice still velvet-smooth, "pour some tea for our guests."
The sorcerer in red and black paused, his lips pressing into a thin line as though about to refuse. But then Maleficent turned her head ever so slightly toward him, her smile still perfectly in place but her eyes narrowing with a glint of frost. The air seemed to still between them, and whatever defiance Jafar might have been holding onto dissolved instantly. Wordlessly, he obeyed.
Maleficent's gaze slid back to Helios as Jafar poured, her expression softening once again into that mock-affection she wore like a mask. "So," she began, "what brings you to me so soon? Surely this isn't just a social call. Or did you really miss me?"
Helios leaned back in his chair and pointed his thumb toward Hades. "Please, of course I didn't. I need two favors from you," he said evenly. "And he's the payment for one of them."
A ripple of amusement crossed her face. She reached out with one long, elegant hand and let her fingers trace lightly along Helios's cheek. "You never fail to surprise me," she murmured. "Always so resourceful… using other people to pay off your debts. It's one of your more… intriguing qualities. Never lose it."
Helios's hand twitched, and he was clearly ready to flick her touch away, but she withdrew before he could. She always stayed one step ahead in moments like these—never letting him feel like he'd taken the initiative.
"I accept," she said lightly. "And the other favor? What will you offer me for that?"
Helios's voice was calm, almost too calm. "I'll owe you one."
Maleficent chuckled, low and warm, though her eyes glittered with the satisfaction of someone who had just nudged a piece into place on the board. "How very generous. It's always such a pleasure to see you… and every time, you manage to leave me with another debt to collect."
She leaned back, taking her cup from Jafar as though the conversation had been about nothing more serious than the weather.
The tea was steaming, faintly fragrant, and Helios knew better than to assume it was harmless. Still, he lifted his own cup when it was placed before him. Maleficent took a sip, her expression one of serene enjoyment, as if they were all old friends sharing a quiet afternoon.
But Helios could feel it—her mind was working behind those calm eyes, already calculating how best to use him, how to turn his visit into something that tipped the scales in her favor.
He set the cup down slowly. "I'm not here to play games, Maleficent."
She smiled over the rim of her cup. "My dear boy… everything is a game. You must simply learn the rules, and you will rule the board."
Hades muttered something into his drink, but Helios ignored him.
Maleficent's gaze lingered on him for a long moment, studying, dissecting. There was always something vaguely unnerving about the way she looked at him—like a craftsman inspecting a blade they'd been sharpening for years, deciding whether it was ready to be used.
The room seemed to grow quieter, the shadows leaning in, as if the Heartless themselves were listening to their exchange.
Finally, she set her cup down with a soft clink. "Very well," she said. "You shall have your favors. But know this—debts to me are never forgotten, Helios. One day, I will collect… and I will not be refused."
Her tone was still velvet, still that feigned maternal warmth, but beneath it lay iron.
Helios met her gaze without flinching. "I know."
For a heartbeat, there was no movement—only the silent clash of wills across the obsidian table. Then Maleficent smiled once more, satisfied for now, and lifted her tea again.
The Heartless outside the throne room shifted restlessly, as though sensing the currents of power moving between their mistress and her "son." The ruined kingdom stood silent around them, a monument to what happened when Maleficent's will went unchallenged.