The palace corridors dimmed as Helios and Alira silently retraced their path, slipping away from the throne room and deeper into the heart of Agrabah's stronghold. The shimmer of Helios' concealment spell still clung to them, warping the edge of sight, but even so—he moved more cautiously now.
Too many eyes and people moving about so they had to move carefully.
As they passed a mosaic of intertwined peacocks and lotuses, he paused beside a set of sealed golden doors—their intricate latticework gleaming under torchlight. The air here felt heavier, hushed.
A disused wing. Closed off. Forgotten.
He stared at it for a beat too long.
"She doesn't need magic to command," Helios murmured. "She'd make kingdoms kneel with a whisper."
Alira tilted her head slightly. "You mean that woman?"
"Yes."
He stared at the stone beneath his feet. "I wonder if Jafar kills her. Because she limited his power and influence."
Alira's eyes lingered on the door. "She reminded me of another calm woman whose face I forget."
Helios didn't answer. He only turned away. Those might be Pocahontas' memories of her own mother.
They resumed their descent, slipping through side halls until they emerged near the edge of the east tower, where the marble changed to black stone, and a strange hush choked the air. Here, lanterns dimmed of their own accord, and guards avoided the path without speaking.
Helios grinned faintly.
"Found it."
A hidden stairwell descended into a curved hall, every brick carved with runes in a language long forgotten. A blank wall waited at the end.
Then—footsteps. Sharp. Measured. Rhythmic.
Jafar.
The Grand Vizier strode through the corridor, cloak sweeping, cobra-headed staff ticking against the floor like a heartbeat. He didn't even glance at the wall as he approached it.
Instead, he raised his hand and spoke a word—not in the tongue of Agrabah, but in something older.
The illusion shimmered—and broke.
A circular door of obsidian rippled into view, outlined in red light. It slid open without a sound, and Jafar stepped through into the darkness.
Helios waited two full seconds, then followed.
They passed through the threshold as it sealed behind them.
The chamber within was massive, its ceiling lost in shadow. Strange shelves hung midair, floating on invisible chains. Scrolls fluttered between crystal spheres and suspended tomes. At the center was a long black desk, where an unfurled map of Agrabah pulsed faintly with enchantment, pinpoints of red light flaring like embers.
Behind it hung a wide mirror, its surface warped and smoky.
And near the corner—resting in a shallow pedestal of silver and ash—was half of a golden scarab.
It glowed faintly, its magic older than anything else in the room.
Alira stared at it.
"What is that?" she whispered.
Helios' voice was low. "A key."
"To what?"
"To everything I need."
He stepped closer, and his eyes swept across diagrams of celestial bodies, references to deep sand, guardians, and the Cave of Wonders. Notes were written in his own hand but hastily copied, filled with uncertainty.
Helios narrowed his eyes.
"He doesn't even know what he's holding." Helios shook his head. "This version of him hasn't found the other half yet. That's when things begin to change."
He paused. "So… we give him a reason to find it."
Behind them, the room flickered.
Helios blinked.
Then—
Crack!
A red beam of energy arced across the room like a spear of lightning.
Helios' instincts fired instantly. He turned and summoned Equilibrium, the black-silver keyblade flashing into his grip.
He swung it up—CLANG—and the beam shattered against a glowing arc of light, scattering sparks like embers into the air.
The concealment spell collapsed.
Their forms shimmered into full visibility.
Across the chamber, Jafar stood with his staff raised, the cobra's eyes glowing red.
His own eyes widened slightly. "You—who dares break into my sanctum?!"
Helios stood calmly, blade held loosely by his side. "You startled me. That was rude. You should always politely greet guests."
Alira stepped slightly behind him, her eyes watching Jafar without emotion.
Jafar's voice was a hiss. "How did you get past the wards? My mirrors saw no intruder."
Helios tilted his head. "Then perhaps your mirrors need polishing."
Jafar snarled and pointed his staff. "Who are you?"
Helios gave a faint smirk. "Think of me as… a helpful little shadow."
"You are no shadow."
"No," Helios agreed. "But we want the same thing so I'm helpful regardless."
Jafar's hand twitched, magic beginning to charge again.
Helios raised his blade, just enough.
"If I wanted you dead," he said evenly, "you'd be sprawled across that desk with your staff broken in two. I've been here for quite a while. But I didn't come here to kill you."
Jafar narrowed his eyes, calculating. "Then speak, before I change my mind."
Helios let the silence stretch for a beat.
Then: "You want more power than this city can offer. But you've hit a wall. Your relics lie. Your maps contradict. You've heard rumors of a cave that appears only to the worthy."
Jafar hesitated.
Helios continued. "What you don't know—yet—is that you already hold the first half of the key. The scarab."
The vizier's lips parted slightly.
"You feel it, don't you?" Helios added. "Like something just out of reach."
"…Go on."
Helios turned, nodding toward the pedestal. "You're looking in the wrong direction. The other half lies far outside these walls. It's not buried in sand. It's moving. Always. Following no path but its own."
"And you know where it is?"
"Not exactly. But I can lead you closer. And in return, I want to see what happens when you open the cave."
Jafar sneered. "And why would I allow an intruder to live—let alone assist me?"
Helios smirked. "Because your pride will always outweigh your fear. You'd rather win with my help than risk losing without it."
The cobra staff lowered an inch.
The two men stared at one another — one coiled in gold and ambition, the other cloaked in shadow and intent.
At last, Jafar spoke.
"Then let us see if this shadow has any value."
Helios nodded, flicked his keyblade away — and it vanished in a shimmer of light.
Alira stepped closer. She still hadn't spoken, but her eyes lingered on the half-scarab.
Jafar noticed her then.
"And the girl?"
Helios turned.
"She's... of no importance to you. Don't worry about her and focus on the scarab."