Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A few rays of light broke through the small window, illuminating the room. Louie was still lying in his bed, quietly sobbing from distress. Usually a lazy boy, today he had no energy at all.

"What's the point of getting up?" the child asked himself quietly.

The whole night had passed in a fog for him. Every minute the duckling pondered whether he had done the right thing by hurting his mom. "I just wanted to get rich sooner, I didn't want it to happen like this." His heart betrayed him with a painful sting, as if hinting at the right answer.

After a while, his empty stomach made itself known. The duckling climbed out of bed, his feet barely feeling the wooden floor. Leaning against the doorframe, Louie breathed heavily. He really didn't want to see any of the adults right now.

His hesitation ended when a pleasant and wonderful aroma reached his beak. The familiar smell pulled the green-eyed duckling downstairs. Peeking into the kitchen, the duckling entered with a smile.

Exactly, that was it! They were his favorite pancakes. "Did Huey make these for me? Weird." Of course, his older brother knew what his triplet adored, so Louie had no doubt the dish was meant for him. He was about to grab a couple of the still-warm pancakes when someone sharply snatched the plate away.

The duckling looked up apprehensively. In any other situation, Louie would have been happy to see his brother, but not now.

"Huey? I just wanted to take some. Are you really that stingy?" the green duckling said with annoyance. No answer came. The older one simply walked away with the plate in his hands as tears welled up in the boy's eyes.

Since last night, Louie had gotten used to his family ignoring him. They only talked to him when they wanted to make a snide remark. The duckling refused to blame himself, but each time he felt his heart was being torn apart. The triplets, so dear to the child, treated him with contempt and distrust.

Sighing, the youngest realized he had no choice but to make a quick breakfast for himself. He made a sandwich and headed to his room, swallowing the food on the way. Going up the stairs, Louie heard his brothers and friend discussing a trip to Funso's, as if nothing serious had happened between the kids.

Out of desperation, Louie decided to join them, hoping his family would finally understand and accept him.

"Hey, it seems like you're discussing going out? Can I come too? I was just..."

But without letting his brother finish, his family simply walked out, leaving him alone. The boy felt more pain than ever before. Louie realized the triplets had chosen the one they'd known for only a few months. Tears began to flow from his green eyes again. More than anything in the world, he wanted his family to pay attention to him again, but he couldn't bring himself to admit his mistake.

When evening came, the ducklings returned home. Noticing their brother waiting for them, the kids once again walked right past him. Louie didn't intend to give up.

"Hey, I thought you might want to have some fun. I prepared some games, come on, yeah?" the boy suggested, hoping for a positive answer. But it was all in vain. His family just walked away without even looking at him.

The youngest's patience had run out. All the pain he had felt over the last day was building up inside him.

"Enough! Why are you treating me like this? I didn't do anything wrong to you. I... I..."

"You didn't do anything wrong? You hurt Mom, which means you hurt all of us! You're a terrible brother and a terrible son!" Dewey interrupted him. The green duckling recoiled in horror. He had gotten what he wanted: an answer, but not the one he wanted to hear.

"You don't even understand you did something wrong, you could have at least apologized!" Huey supported his middle brother.

"That's not how you act in a family, but you're different, you're evil!" Webby added, shocking the boy. A strange conversation flashed in his head. "I noticed you're different from them... You're different, you're like me..."

His family's words only fueled the duckling's anger more.

"I'm evil?!" the boy paused, thinking, "Have you always thought of me that way?"

"Have you ever done anything good?" Huey snapped, tired of the argument.

"You never listen!" the youngest's patience was fading. It was painful to hear such things from his own brothers.

"If you don't like it, you can leave," Dewey added in a serious and stern voice, causing the youngest's heart to seemingly stop beating.

"What?.. But I... I mean... You don't understand," Louie finally said. Anger won out in him, "Fine, think I'm evil, whatever. I don't need you! I don't need a family like this!"

This time, Louie left them and ran to his room. Mentally, he cursed himself for those words, but he wouldn't apologize for anything in the world!

---

A day had passed since the duckling had been alone. His family was so close, yet so far. Sadness was replaced by anger. A resentment had appeared that couldn't be soothed. The final straw was when they didn't take him with them and locked him in the house. The calls from his family felt like nothing but mockery.

The duckling felt like he was in prison. He couldn't leave the house. He couldn't even relax. Every feather on the boy felt the tension. The closed space was pressing down on the dejected child, not letting him catch his breath.

"They got me a robo-nanny, as if that's going to stop me!" the youngest exclaimed in a fit of another rage.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up as a thought raced through Louie's head. Approaching the bed, he pulled out a box from under it. In the small cardboard box, the boy kept important things his brothers weren't supposed to know about. The duckling removed the lid and took out a card with a phone number. A sly grin shone on the child's beak.

"What was it you said, Mom? 'If you want to be part of this family, stop scheming'? Well, fine, but I just don't want to be part of your family anymore!"

Louie started dialing the numbers on his phone screen. He was nervous, but he understood that from now on, he would live as he pleased. No reproaches, no worries.

And then, the coveted dial tone sounded. Someone picked up on the other end. The grin widened.

"Dad, I accept."

Chapter Text

A few days ago

Darkness all around. It seemed like no one could live here. Everything felt abandoned. And only one little duckling was walking down the street. He was afraid of every rustle, but kept moving forward, as if hoping for something. Cursing himself, the boy snorted and looked around.

"Why did I even come here? Fell for an ad. That was stupid. I'm going back, there's no gold here!" the frightened Louie exclaimed. "Okay, which way is the exit? I can't see a thing!"

It was true. No matter how hard the duckling tried, he couldn't make out where he had come from or where to go. A chill ran down his spine. That familiar feeling of fear had returned. His feathers stood on end, and his breathing quickened. Louie ran forward, hoping to see an exit. For a long time, nothing changed. The boy no longer knew how long he had been trying to leave this cursed place, but the darkness only grew thicker.

"No, no, NO! I can't die so stupidly. I will get out, just... just need to go a little further," Louie tried to calm himself, but after numerous attempts, he began to lose faith. Tears streamed down his already wet cheeks. "Why did I come here? Why is there no signal?" Soon his phone died, and with it, the flashlight went out. The duckling sobbed harder, fear completely overwhelming him. He couldn't see far, but he tried to walk, stumbling and falling. It was as if a nightmare had caught up with the boy, making him suffer.

Suddenly, Louie saw a few points of light in the distance. "Are they looking for me? I knew my family wouldn't abandon me," he thought and cried again, but this time from happiness. They were here. They would help.

He ran towards the light, sure his terrible dream was over.

"Stop... how did they know I was here..."

As if in answer, three figures emerged from the darkness, growling and sniffing. Their eyes glowed with a red fire, and their fur was completely black as pitch. The wolves weren't huge, but to the frightened boy, they were enormous, with sharp claws and fangs.

The duckling felt his breath catch. He tried to retreat quietly, but the predators pricked up their ears. The wolves' eyes fixed on him; Louie suppressed a scream and bolted back. Hearing the danger following him, the boy cursed the stupid ad, the predators, and himself.

The child ran like never before in his life. His heart was beating so hard it seemed it would soon stop from the strain. Louie never liked running; he was lazy and preferred to rest. So his poor stamina and the lack of light were not in his favor.

His foot caught on a tree root; the duckling fell and cried out in fear, which was consuming him more and more. The wolves were already close; Louie rolled over and put his hands over his head to protect himself, though he knew such an action wouldn't save him.

Paralyzed with horror, the boy went numb, tears streaming from his exhausted eyes. The wild dogs were getting closer. The duckling froze, staring at his inevitable doom.

Like salvation, Louie heard a loud shot and glanced toward the danger. The frightened wolves whimpered and began to retreat. The child felt relief but couldn't fully relax.

He felt strong arms pick him up. In a normal situation, Louie wouldn't have let anyone but his family do that. But from exhaustion, the duckling just cried as the stranger led him somewhere.

Louie was brought into a lit house, so the boy could get a look at his savior. It was a broad-shouldered adult drake in an elegant green jacket, with an expensive-looking haircut, in the duckling's opinion. His bright green eyes reminded Louie of himself. The stranger placed the child on a sofa.

"Are you okay, kid? Does anything hurt?" the man's voice was calm and seemed familiar. Louie nodded, unable to speak. His leg hurt, and he was scared. The drake's eyes still intrigued the boy, but he was afraid to ask questions.

The savior took out a strange blue pill and handed it to the duckling. Louie didn't want to take anything from a stranger, even if he had just helped him. The drake noticed the child's confusion and smiled.

"Don't be afraid, it's fine. The pill will help with the pain. I won't harm you," the man sounded very convincing, and out of helplessness, Louie swallowed the medicine despite all his worries. A moment later, the pain subsided. A strange feeling appeared inside, one the boy couldn't resist.

"Whoa, it works fast. Um, I wanted to... well... thanks for saving me, but... how did you end up here and why?" the boy had many questions; he wanted to ask as many as possible but worried he might scare his interlocutor.

"I was here on business. And I will always help my son," a kind grin appeared on the drake's beak.

Louie was speechless. He shook his head as if disagreeing with this information. Besides, trusting a stranger was a stupid idea.

"But you're mistaken, my dad is dead..."

Everything Donald had said about their father was that he had died from an illness. Louie hadn't asked for more. This drake looked like him, but the duckling couldn't believe him.

"So that's what they told you..." the man's face became thoughtful. "As you can see, your family lied."

"I'm sorry, but I can't believe a stranger. You have no proof!"

Of course, Louie wanted it to be true; he saw their resemblance. On the other hand, such a meeting seemed strange.

"Well, why not?" the drake held out a photograph. In it, Louie saw Della and this stranger. They were holding hands and seemed in love. The boy looked up at the mysterious drake again.

"Hmm, she really does look like Mom... But it could be a fake. Why did they tell me you were dead? Why did you never come? Don't you love Mom anymore? Why..."

"Whoa, you're quite curious," the man interrupted him, "that reminds me of me. But answering your questions would take a lot of time. Let's start with this: my name is Derek. You can consider me a friend.

"I-I'm Louie," the shocked boy replied.

"Oh, kid, I know."

"Oh, but how?" Louie's heart was beating very fast; he was nervous, as if he might faint.

"If they forbade me from seeing you, it doesn't mean I didn't keep track of your life," Derek answered with a laugh.

"You... you kept track of us, but I don't remember you. A-and why were you forbidden to see us?" Louie's voice became more and more agitated.

"Tell me, kid, what do you know about the Continent of Evil?"

Louie's heart beat faster. He looked into the stranger's eyes while every particle of his body screamed.

"Th-that only villains can live there..."

"Yes, you're right, but that's not all... Oh, don't worry so much, you look scared. I won't hurt you, I promise," the drake smiled a sweet smile. His voice sounded so soft and so kind.

"So, you're a villain?" Louie asked with annoyance, afraid to hear the answer.

"Yes, I bear that title, but don't worry, I won't do anything bad to you or your family."

A new feeling overwhelmed Louie. A feeling of resentment. His relatives hadn't told him his father was alive. Because he was a villain? But he hadn't done anything wrong, right?

"You don't look bad... but why are you considered one then?"

"That's... hard to explain. You know," Derek's green eyes studied the child carefully, "I noticed that you're different from them... you're different, you're like me."

At these words, Louie felt a bit happy, which surprised even himself.

"Maybe... the family really... does think I'm evil..."

The duckling didn't want to believe it, but he remembered everything. How his brothers called him the "evil triplet Louie," how they yelled at him for his "difference" from others.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid you got more genes from me... Hm, you know what? Would you like to join us? Clever ones like you are useful on the Continent of Evil," Derek's face became brighter.

Louie was surprised by the question, even happy, but soon he slumped, realizing he wasn't ready.

"Thank you for the offer, but... I can't. They are my family, I love them, no matter what."

The boy didn't know if he was doing the right thing, but he couldn't just trust a drake he was seeing for the first time. Especially a villain, whether his father was to blame or not.

"I understand, but if you change your mind, you can call," Derek handed the duckling a card with a number.

Louie took the card and was surprised at how beautiful it was. The engraving was golden.

"Are you, by any chance, rich?" Louie asked automatically and mentally kicked himself for it. Derek just laughed.

"Well, you could say that. Let me take you to the exit, or your mom will go crazy. Won't she?"

"I'm not sure about that, but yes, I want to go to my family!" Louie had always loved his family, even if he didn't show it much, "But you will answer my questions, right?"

"Of course, as soon as you call me, but please don't tell anyone we met. Your uncle Donald doesn't really like me," the father winked at the boy. Louie smiled; he suddenly felt warm inside.

"I promise!"

---

"Ready to go?" Derek asked his thoughtful son.

Louie looked back at the mansion. He understood he wouldn't return here, but the duckling had absolutely no desire to see his family. The boy lowered his head, but a moment later, he nodded confidently to his father.

"Yes. Ready."

Chapter Text

Louie couldn't wait to finally see the Continent of Evil. All his life he had been scared of this place, but now the boy felt that only there would he find salvation.

"I didn't know you had a private jet!" the duckling exclaimed excitedly to his father.

"There's a lot you don't know about me, kid. But we'll fix that. I'm very glad you agreed. I'm sure you'll like your new home," Derek replied in his gentle voice and ruffled his son's bangs.

"Thank you..."

The boy became thoughtful; he realized there was no turning back now. For a second, sadness overwhelmed him, but remembering how his relatives had treated him, he just gave a weak smile.

"You're worried, aren't you?"

Louie was surprised again by how kind and pleasant his father's voice was. The boy looked at the drake and slowly nodded.

"A little. What if everyone treats me badly? They're all villains! I don't think they're all as nice as you... A-and you still haven't said why you're considered bad."

The duckling couldn't hold back his emotions; he sincerely didn't understand why his family hadn't let his father near him. The Duck family history had always been strange and confusing, but could they really hide something like this from him?

"Believe me, kid, no one will dare to hurt you," at these words, Derek's face became a bit more serious, but a smile still held on his beak.

"That sounds reassuring, but..." before he could finish, Louie felt his father take him by the shoulder and lead him to the plane window. The boy saw a beautiful landscape. Mountains and a wonderful dark blue sea.

"Can villains really live in such a wonderful place? The inhabitants outside the Continent of Evil aren't much better than those here. They didn't accept our ideas and new views. We are not like them, which is why we live here. But is that so bad? We can be whoever we want. No one will judge us for it," Derek became sterner, but his voice was still calm. Louie listened carefully; he was glad he had met his father. They were so similar.

"So, you're here because my family didn't approve of your plans?" the duckling paraphrased what he himself had experienced. Derek looked at his son, and the smile spread across his beak again.

"No, at least not entirely. When your mom and I met, I was already here. In fact, I've lived here my whole life. Society doesn't accept people like us very well," Derek seemed to want to continue, but something stopped him. Louie noticed it but didn't get a proper answer.

"So, Mom left you when she found out you were a villain?"

"Well, almost. They always knew who I was. Donald and Scrooge were always against me, only your mom loved me. But... we had our reasons..."

Derek's face changed again. He became even more serious. The boy understood now was not the time to ask for details. Sighing, the duckling looked at the view outside the window, still wanting to know the truth.

"Okay... So is everyone on the Continent of Evil kind?"

Louie wasn't sure he understood the ominous place, but he wanted to understand everything. His father's phrase: "they won't dare harm you" — was still spinning in his head.

"What? Hm, I see why you thought that. You can't trust the inhabitants of the Continent. They are different... You can't call them kind. We are only united by our ideas. But villains will always be villains."

Louie listened to his father; he didn't fully understand, but all he knew was that all villains did bad things. Despite this information, the duckling wasn't scared but felt he was in the right place. He didn't want to commit crimes, but here he would be accepted. He could be himself.

"You're right... they're almost no different from the citizens of Duckburg. You can be a thief there too," the boy muttered. He wanted to believe his father was good, but he didn't know what had happened between him and Della.

Many thoughts raced through Louie's head. So many mysteries. It angered him that his family had never told him anything. Suddenly he wondered: his brothers didn't know either and probably never would. Louie felt sad realizing this, but he wouldn't go back for those who had betrayed him. The memories of the triplets made the child's heart ache. The triplets had always been together, but now the duckling was someone special, someone significant.

"But how..."

"Sir, we've arrived," the pilot interrupted the boy, not letting him finish.

"Well, kid, congratulations on your new life," Derek smiled and nudged his son toward the exit.

Louie didn't know what to expect, but what he saw was amazing. It was a land completely surrounded by water. The place was simply huge. The duckling noticed a large building. It was majestic, oval-shaped, with many balconies and windows with dark glass on every side. Part of the building hung over the water, which only added to its beauty. There were many cars, planes, and boats everywhere. Beautiful trees grew all around. Everything was perfect, only clouds filled the wide sky.

Louie's eyes burned with an enthusiastic gaze. He wanted to shout with joy, but his breath caught.

"Is this... this is the Continent of Evil?" was all the boy could squeeze out.

"Oh no, this is just our island. The Continent of Evil comes later. Welcome home, kid," Derek invited. The duckling was completely speechless.

"An... island? You own it?" the shocked Louie persisted.

"Well, I told you I was rich. I command the 'Black Army'... Are you okay? You look really scared," Derek finally looked at his son.

"The 'Black Army'? That's one of the most dangerous guards. I heard their ruler is the villain of all time. So, you're that villain?"

At that moment, fear gripped the child's body. He couldn't tear his bright eyes away from his father, feeling the air becoming scarce.

"Hm, sounds good, but I wouldn't call myself the 'villain of all time.' I'm higher in status than many, but there are many such armies; we are all equal," Derek tried to calm his son.

Louie believed him. How could his father lie? He had always been so good.

The drake led the boy to the entrance. When Louie entered, he saw roughly what he expected. A large number of fighters walked around in the same uniform. Some held weapons, but everyone was busy with their tasks. Many corridors with automatic doors. Boxes were everywhere. It was a completely different world, not at all like the one the boy lived in. Several soldiers glanced at the child, but because of their masks, Louie couldn't make out their emotions.

"Come on, kid, I'll show you the most important thing," Derek pushed the duckling and signaled for him to walk alongside.

As they headed to the place the drake was leading them to, Louie marveled at everything around him. After many corridors, the pair entered a room where two adult soldiers were already standing.

"Sir, you're back! We need to discuss a few things," the first one began. Louie understood they were ordinary worker-soldiers. Only the second drake was silent and looked at the boy with an unkind gaze, which made the duckling uncomfortable.

"We'll deal with that. Where are they?" Derek asked, making Louie flinch, as he didn't understand what "they" meant.

"They're on their way," replied the first soldier.

"I was thinking... maybe I can take a different name?" the child asked unexpectedly.

"You don't like yours?" Derek was slightly surprised by the boy's sudden decision.

"Well, I don't want to have anything to do with the Ducks anymore. And the name 'Dewford' is just awful!" Louie's face reddened with anger. He had never liked his full name.

"Okay, kid. What do you want?"

"Richard? No... Maybe Nick?"

It wasn't right. Nothing came to the child's mind. So the duckling puffed, trying to come up with something that would suit him.

"How about Frederick? I always wanted to name my child that," Derek suggested and smiled softly.

"Yes... Yes! I like it!" Louie found the main advantage of this name: it didn't remind him of his former family.

At that moment, two ducklings entered. They looked alike. Almost the same height, same eye color, only of different genders: a girl and a boy. They seemed to be twins.

"Father, you called for us? Did you finally decide I will inherit the island?" the boy asked with a malicious grin. The girl just rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, snorting. The twins threw a puzzled look at the unfamiliar duckling.

"F-father?!" Louie repeated and recoiled.

"Ethan, Amanda, meet your older brother—Fred."

Derek put a hand on the green duckling's shoulder.

The children stared at each other. Shock mixed with horror froze on their faces. No one could say anything. After a minute, Amanda couldn't stand the silence.

"Brother?! Father, tell me you're joking. He couldn't have just appeared out of nowhere. He... he's not our real brother, is he?" the girl looked both angry and sad.

"No jokes, he is your half-brother. And I ask you to treat him well. Teach him everything necessary."

An awkward and tormenting silence hung in the room again. Louie was no less surprised than his new brother and sister.

"But, Father!.." Ethan tried to object.

"Take him to his room. That's an order," Derek's voice was still kind but now with a note of anger.

"Okay, Father..." the twins replied in sync, agreeing sadly.

"Let's go!" Amanda ordered her newfound brother. Louie looked at his father with hope, but he only signaled for the boy to follow the children.

When the ducklings left the room, the soldier who had been glaring menacingly at Louie the whole time whispered:

"So, the new heir..."

The soldier hurried to the exit. Only one worker remained in the room with the villain.

"Sir, do you really need a third? Two are enough for the plan," the soldier said in surprise.

"Oh no, two won't be enough for us. The more of them, the better the result. Besides, he's not just my son. He's Della's son... Let them get used to each other for now. Soon they'll have other things to worry about. By the way, tell Ayden to return: I have a job for him."

Derek's grin no longer seemed kind but rather sinister. Laughter erupted from his chest.

"It will be done, sir," the soldier nodded, not daring to disobey.

---

While the duckling was getting used to his new life, his first family returned to Duckburg.

"Louie, don't be sad we didn't take you, we brought..." Dewey didn't have time to finish before everyone saw the broken robot lying in the middle of the room.

"Oh no, where's Louie?" Della got scared and ran to the nursery. Not finding her son there, the girl looked nervously at the billionaire.

On the younger brother's bed, Huey noticed a note left by the green-eyed duckling.

"Mom, Uncle Scrooge... it seems Louie is gone."

The boy handed the note to Della. The triplets exchanged worried glances, not believing the youngest could have run away.

Hello, former family. I've made a decision. Being with you is torture for me. I found someone who accepts me for who I am. And I'm sorry you never told me about him. Goodbye.

Yours, Louie.

Horror froze on Della's face. She couldn't believe her youngest son was with him. Scrooge took the note from his niece's frozen hands to read it himself.

Dewey understood: it was his fault. He had told Louie to leave. He had given him a reason. Huey and Webby exchanged sad glances, holding hands.

"We'll get him back for sure!" Scrooge assured and hugged the worried adventurer.

But Louie didn't need that. He had started a new life. A life where he felt good. A life he needed to get used to.Louie couldn't wait to finally see the Continent of Evil. All his life he had been scared of this place, but now the boy felt that only there would he find salvation.

Chapter Text

The three ducklings walked in silence, only occasionally exchanging distrustful glances. Louie looked at the children but couldn't quite determine their age. The twins were slightly shorter than him. Ethan had messy bangs. Amanda, on the other hand, could boast fluffy little ponytails that barely touched her shoulders.

Louie noticed that he somewhat resembled the twins. All three of them had incredible green eyes. So bright they seemed to glow in the dark. Their clothing was identical but different from the other soldiers', indicating the children's special status. While the workers had simple black suits with hoods, the heirs had patterns on certain parts. The sleeves, legs, and collar were adorned with stripes of golden fabric.

"We're here," the boy said irritably, pointing to an iron door which he soon opened to let his "kin" through.

It was clear the ducklings were unhappy with the whole situation, but no one dared to disobey their father.

Entering the large room, Louie first noticed a huge window on the wall opposite the door. Bookshelves were arranged all around the room. A long white sofa sat in the middle. A red carpet lay beside it. A large TV stood opposite.

"Wow, it's nice in here, but... it looks more like a dorm room."

Louie didn't understand why he'd been brought here. Hadn't his father said to take him to his room? His room? There wasn't even a bed here.

"You can live outside if you don't like it," Amanda snorted, rolling her eyes.

"For ones like you, let me explain," Ethan began with sarcasm, "see those three doors? One of them leads to your room. The one in the middle. Make a handprint so no one can enter. And remember: don't you dare go near my room!"

"Yeah, and mine either!" his sister chimed in, crossing her arms.

"Oh, um, okay..."

Louie followed the younger brother's instructions. He didn't quite understand why they were treating him like this, but he had his suspicions.

"Oh, right! Your new clothes are in there. Yours look ridiculous. Green? Seriously? Who even dresses like that?" Ethan continued trying to taunt him.

"We do, idiot! Green is our family color!" the girl exclaimed, frowning.

"Shut up, Amanda. For once, try to act like a smart heir."

"Hey, guys, I think... our meeting didn't start off on the right foot... maybe we could be friends... probably," Louie tried to be as friendly as possible. Even though he already didn't like these kids, he understood he'd have to live with them now.

Feeling a shove, Louie fell to the floor with a quiet cry. The duckling looked up to meet the eyes of his attacker.

"You think you're our brother? I want to be the only heir. You and Amanda are just mistakes. I deserve to be the ruler!" Ethan protested loudly. Louie looked at him incredulously, wanting to object, but the younger girl beat him to it.

"And why should you be the ruler? I'm much better than you!"

The two children turned on each other, forgetting the reason for their argument—Louie. While the twins fought, the older brother didn't want to join in, so, skillfully slipping past the angry ducklings, he calmly entered his room and quickly looked around.

The room was magnificent. Just like the common room, it had a huge window that could be hidden behind thick dark curtains. A large wardrobe took up half a wall. Paintings adorned the other three. The bed was white and very soft. It was better than any Louie had had before. Without a second thought, the duckling flopped onto it.

"So this is the new life..." the boy exhaled.

He didn't particularly like his new brother and sister; they immediately seemed mean and annoying to him, but for now, that was the only downside. He could live with that problem.

Louie looked at his hoodie. "What's wrong with it?" He snorted and walked over to the wardrobe. Opening it, he saw lots of clothes. All sorts. The duckling chose a suit like the twins wore. Trying it on, he became thoughtful.

"That's strange... it's my size."

Louie looked at the other clothes. They also fit him perfectly. The green-eyed duckling was surprised by this but quickly pushed the strange thoughts from his head.

But what to do with the hoodie? He certainly didn't want to throw it away. As Louie was pondering, his phone unexpectedly fell out of the pocket. The boy quickly picked it up and turned it on. He breathed a sigh of relief: the device was working. The duckling noticed the notifications. The screen was lit up with missed call alerts. His entire family had been trying to call him. His brothers and Webby had even sent text messages.

"They've already seen my note," Louie thought and grinned. A feeling of bitter victory came over him. He didn't even feel sorry for his former family. Skimming through the messages, he frowned and threw the phone onto the dresser, switching it to silent mode.

The boy looked at the electronic clock sitting nearby. It glowed a pleasant green.

"Ten-thirty..."

Surprisingly, he wasn't sleepy at all, but he also didn't want to leave his room. Seeing Amanda and Ethan wasn't the most pleasant prospect.

The duckling lay down on the bed; it was so soft he instantly fell into a deep sleep.

In the morning, the boy was awakened by loud knocks on the metal door.

"Why aren't you up yet, idiot?" Amanda's voice sounded even angrier than usual. Louie looked at the same clock. Only five in the morning. Startled, the boy wondered why he'd been woken up so early. But the shouts of his angry sister left him no choice. The older brother hurried to open the door.

"You could have come at three," Louie complained, yawning. He was a bit surprised by the younger girl's intrusion.

"Oh, sorry I woke you... I guess you're right..." Amanda began with fake sweetness.

"It's okay, I—"

"Do you even realize that because of you, I'm late too?! I don't care if you want to sleep or not!"

"You said I was right," the boy was both scared and confused.

"Ugh, you don't even understand simple sarcasm. Whatever. Get ready quickly, we're going to train you. You're so weak any soldier could kill you," Amanda replied emotionlessly this time.

"Wh-what do I need?" Louie was starting to fear his own sister. The younger girl noticed the fear and calmed down a bit.

"Well, um, never mind. You're already in uniform, so we can go."

After a few minutes, they entered a room that was obviously meant for training soldiers. There were many traps and punching bags around. And on the stairs, sitting with his cheek propped on his hand, was Ethan, looking bored. Noticing the entering ducklings, he lazily raised his head.

"I thought I'd go gray before you got here."

"You didn't have to come; I can train him myself!" Amanda hissed and pulled Louie by the hand.

"You? No offense, but you're weaker than me. Though, why no offense? I'll teach him to fight better. You can go," Ethan started the argument again.

"What makes you think you're stronger than me?!" the little girl flushed with anger.

"I don't want to interrupt, but maybe—"

"Shut up, Fred!" the twins yelled in unison.

Louie had no choice but to obediently sit on a bench and wait. He'd learned yesterday that interfering in these two's arguments was a lost cause.

"Father said he needs to know how to fight in a week. And you'll mess it up, as usual."

"As usual? Aren't you the one who ruins everything?"

The two ducklings were ready to tear each other apart. Louie realized this must happen every day. Remembering his own arguments with his triplets, the boy sighed discontentedly.

"ENOUGH! Why did I get up at five in the morning? Both of you train me, or I'm leaving. And we'll see who ends up disappointing Father!"

Louie didn't expect such sharpness from himself, but his patience had run out. The twins stopped; they were as surprised as the older brother.

"Fine, you start, Ethan," Amanda rolled her eyes.

"Hm, excellent. So, Fred, come here."

Louie followed the instruction without question, but something immediately threw him forcefully against the wall. The duckling hit his head. It started spinning, and the back of his head throbbed with pain. A ringing sound appeared, making him nauseous. A groan escaped the boy's beak.

"Here are a few of your mistakes. You fell for it. You weren't watching, and an enemy could approach the same way. You didn't fight back," it seemed the younger one enjoyed mocking his brother.

Amanda approached Louie, who was sitting against the concrete wall, breathing heavily. He couldn't get up; he needed a breather. His sister offered a hand, which only surprised the older one more.

"Let me give you some advice. On the Continent of Evil, trust no one."

Louie couldn't tell if she was helping him or mocking him. But he didn't refuse the help.

After two hours of beating up the poor duckling, Amanda and Ethan received an order to take their brother to their father. Relief washed over the boy. At that moment, Louie noticed unusual bracelets on their wrists. "Can they communicate through those? Like a phone, but on the wrist," he guessed.

The older brother was led into a familiar room; he'd been here before when he first met his brother and sister.

"Rather quick. Amanda, Ethan, you're dismissed," Derek said. The children nodded and silently left. Their faces were sad but serious.

"You needed me?" Louie had no doubt yesterday's conversation would continue, but a sense of anxiety still didn't leave him.

"Yes. We need to finish a couple of things."

As soon as Derek said this, a soldier unexpectedly grabbed Louie and sat him in a chair. A sharp cry escaped the duckling. Making it worse, one of the boy's arms was fastened with automatic straps. A frightened gaze was fixed on his father.

"Don't worry, it will only hurt for a few seconds," Derek's somewhat indifferent look scared Louie, but his voice still sounded soft, paralyzing the child's will to resist.

At that moment, the boy felt a burning, unbearable pain in his right arm, which wasn't tied down. Tears streamed from his frightened eyes. He wanted to scream, but he couldn't manage to open his beak. Just as the drake had promised, the pain subsided. Louie looked at his arm, where a design had appeared. The image of a black sword, wrapped in a ribbon with the inscription "Balcom."

"I told you it wasn't scary," Derek encouraged, and the familiar kind grin appeared on his face. Only Louie couldn't boast such a good mood. The pain was almost gone, but the fear remained.

"Wh-what is this? A tattoo? Why B-Balcom?" the poor boy still couldn't calm down, stuttering.

"It's not exactly a tattoo, but it's easier to agree with that concept. A sign of belonging to the family. Only famous villains have these. And Balcom is our last name. Frederick Balcom, how do you like it?" Derek awaited an answer from his son.

"I-I like it!" muttered the almost calmed-down Louie. In truth, the name "Frederick" felt unfamiliar to him.

The boy flinched as his second arm was freed. The duckling hurried to get up from that ominous chair, standing next to his father.

"Yes, one more thing. Do you have your phone with you?" Derek asked a second question.

"Yes..." Louie took out the device and showed it.

"You don't need it anymore."

The drake handed his son the very same bracelet like the ones Ethan and Amanda had.

"Wow, but how does it work?" Louie immediately put the jewelry on his wrist.

"Nothing complicated. Press the button and that's it. Then it's the same as a regular phone."

Indeed, a hologram appeared before his eyes. He could swipe through it, press various icons. Louie was delighted. The new gadget was much more convenient than his antiquated phone. He didn't even notice he'd placed the old device on the table.

"And lastly. Every Balcom has their personal advisors. Those closest to us. Since you're one of us now, you'll have a secretary too. You can go to her now, and she'll explain everything else," Derek smiled encouragingly.

"Okay, but how do I find her?"

"Just type the location of room 376 into your bracelet's GPS; she should be there."

"Um, okay... and thanks for the gift," Louie waved his hand awkwardly and hurried to leave.

Derek walked over to the table and picked up the boy's phone. Turning it on, he saw many missed calls. The drake threw the device on the floor. The phone couldn't withstand the impact and shattered to pieces.

"Sorry, Della, I don't think he'll be back anytime soon," this time, an evil grin spread across Derek's face.

The soldier just sighed quietly and returned to work.

Louie walked quickly through the endless corridors. He was pierced by contemptuous glances. All the soldiers he passed on the way looked at him. The duckling felt out of place, so he tried not to look back at them.

"Okay, here's the right corridor. 374, 375... and here's 376!"

Louie swung the door open. He expected to see an adult woman, but instead noticed only a girl who seemed to be his age.

"Um, hi. I'm Lo... Fred," the boy hurriedly corrected himself. The girl looked up from sorting papers and raised her head. She walked closer to the child.

At that moment, Louie could get a better look at her. She was a bit shorter than him. Her eyes were large and blue, like sapphires. Long hair was tied into a fluffy ponytail. A small strand fell onto her forehead. Her clothing was like that of a regular soldier, but a golden stripe adorned her right forearm.

"I guessed as much..." her voice was gentle and kind, but her face expressed indifference.

"So you're... my advisor? What does that mean? Will you carry out my orders?"

The duckling was nervous, though he didn't understand why. The girl's face became a bit angrier, making Louie wary.

"You could say that... but it doesn't mean I'll fulfill every stupid whim that pops into your head. If you think I enjoy being in the company of anyone from the Balcom family, you're mistaken. I was just forced to serve you, but I can stand up for myself!"

"Does everyone here hate me?" flashed through the boy's mind.

"Um... oh... okay, but can I ask a couple of questions?" Louie kept his eyes on his secretary the whole time.

"Of course..." the girl replied with a sigh.

"First, I'd like to know your name. Second, Father said you'd explain things I don't know."

"I'm Emily," her face became a bit friendlier.

Louie even caught a slight smile. His question had clearly flustered the girl.

Grabbing a thick folder from the table, she handed it to Louie.

"This is the dossier on your squad," Emily continued.

"My squad?" Louie even choked on his surprise.

"Well, yes. All the Balcoms have their own squads. The ruler's are adults, and his children's—that is, yours—are teenagers and kids. Since you're the oldest, I was ordered to redistribute Amanda and Ethan's squads so that you have more soldiers," Emily became serious again.

"What? You mean... wow... my own squad..."

"I wouldn't be so happy in your place. As far as I know, your brother and sister aren't too fond of you. Imagine what will happen to you when they realize you've taken their soldiers?"

After these words, Louie flinched with anxiety. They were already threatening him; what would happen next?

"Oh, no! This is bad, bad, bad!"

The duckling found it hard to breathe. Emily was surprised by his distress.

"You're not like them... you're different..."

Louie had heard something similar from his former family and his father. But from the Ducks, it was only accusations of malice. "But Emily... Does she think I'm good?" the boy asked himself.

"What?" escaped from Louie. The girl was flustered again but decided to answer.

"Well, you... you're scared? You're not striving for leadership..." she wanted to continue, but her face began to blush slightly, "I... I have to go!"

Emily grabbed another stack of papers and quickly ran off. And Louie was left alone. He looked at the documents and didn't want to return to his room. But gathering his courage, he trudged back anyway.

"I have a feeling there's going to be a lot of yelling..."

Chapter Text

The door to Emily's room slammed shut with such a thunderous crash that the wall seemed to shudder. The girl leaned against the cool wooden surface, her heart pounding wildly, echoing like a deafening drum in her ears. She slowly slid down to the floor, wrapping her trembling arms around her knees.

"Stop it, stop it!" the girl whispered to herself, pressing her palms into her closed eyelids to force out the intrusive image, "He's one of them! He's a Balcom! He must be as bad as they all are... but..."

Her face burned with embarrassment. The memory of his eyes surfaced in her mind—confused, sincere, nothing like Ethan's prickly, arrogant gaze or Amanda's cold haughtiness. Hating all the Balcoms was her rule, her shield. But this one... this Fred... he was breaking it, and that scared her more than any threat.

---

Louie crept down the hallway, trying to blend into the shadows. He'd just survived one confrontation and didn't want another. But the moment he stepped into the common hall, a hand roughly slammed him against the cold stone wall, knocking the wind out of him. Louie didn't even need to see his assailant—he recognized Ethan instantly by the infuriating, familiar feeling of being overpowered. Amanda stood a little further away, watching with her arms crossed and an expression of venomous displeasure on her face.

"Maybe I wasn't clear enough," Ethan hissed, "But how am I supposed to take this?! The squads! My squads!"

"L-listen... I didn't... I didn't want to..." Louie struggled to push the words out. The pressure on his chest increased, dark spots beginning to flicker in his vision.

"Let him go, Ethan! You're going to strangle him!" Amanda interjected sharply, a hint of concern even appearing in her voice, but she instantly corrected it to anger.

Ethan shoved Louie forcefully to the floor. He hit his elbow on the stone slabs but was infinitely grateful for the gulp of cold, dusty air that flooded his lungs. He gasped convulsively, coughing.

"What were you even thinking?!" Amanda shrieked at the older boy, her voice ringing like a blade, "Do you know how long Ethan and I fought to get those squads? Years!"

"I can imagine, but no one asked me!" Louie defended himself hoarsely, rubbing his bruised arm, "Father made the decision himself! He put most of them under my command!"

"You know nothing about tactics!" Ethan exploded, "And he chose you! I'm more suited for that role! I was born here!"

"Ugh, I hate you both!" Amanda shouted, her face contorted in a grimace of anger, "You only think about yourselves and your ambitions!"

Louie scrambled to his feet once his lungs finally started working normally. The anger that had been building all these days—anger at his new life, at the constant reproaches, at this cursed place—suddenly erupted like scorching lava.

"And you have no idea how sick and tired I am of ALL of you!" the former Duck's voice, ragged and hoarse, sounded unnaturally loud in the high hall, "I'm the eldest! And you WILL listen to me! Enough of this 'unworthy' or 'not from here' nonsense! From today, I'm in charge here! Understood?!"

In the ensuing silence, only the duckling's own heavy exhale was audible. Louie himself was shocked by his outburst. Amanda and Ethan looked at him with frank astonishment, for the first time robbed of speech. Not waiting for an answer, the boy turned sharply and, trying not to betray the trembling in his knees, walked out of the hall.

Locking his bedroom door behind him, Louie leaned against it with his back and exhaled.

"Oh bad, bad, BAD. What have I done? What's going to happen now?.. Okay... okay... maybe I'll get away with it?.."

"Act first, think later" had always been the duckling's life credo. Sometimes it worked. But sometimes his impulsiveness led to serious trouble.

To distract himself, Louie began studying the bracelet his father had given him. The device, unlike any Duckburg technology, was intuitive and incredibly functional. At first, it was fun to press all the buttons, watching holographic interfaces and schematics appear. But it soon grew boring. The entire world of villains lay at his feet, and he was sitting alone in his gilded cage of a room.

Back home, his peace was constantly disturbed by his brothers—with shouts, arguments, proposals for some adventure. Now he had everything: a luxurious room, a new name, a new life. But he didn't have the most important thing—someone who would knock on his door for no reason. Sighing, Louie got up from the bed and looked around helplessly. His gaze fell on the stack of documents Emily had given him. Emily...

At the memory of the girl with the big blue eyes, new questions swarmed in his head. Why did she hate his family so much? Why did she run away then?

Deciding to find answers, Louie headed to the very room where they had met. Entering, he saw not Emily, but an adult drake in military uniform. "I've seen him somewhere before..." flashed through the child's mind.

"Hey, hi! Do we know each other, by any chance?" Louie asked awkwardly.

The drake turned around. Cold, blue eyes, a contemptuous smirk. It was the same soldier who had looked at him with hatred during his introduction to the twins.

"Frederick," his voice sounded sweet and poisonous, "What a amusing meeting. Are you enjoying it here?"

"Yes... but something's not ri—" Louie began and didn't get to finish.

The boy was yanked forward violently and pinned against the wall again, but this time the blade of a knife, cold as ice, was pressed to his throat. Absolute, piercing fear shot through the duckling's entire body. His heart pounded, betraying his terror.

"I'll say this once, so absorb every word," the drake's voice was quiet and searingly icy, "If even the slightest trouble happens to Emily, if a single hair falls from her head because of you—this knife will end up in your heart. Crystal clear?"

Louie could only nod slowly, very slowly, afraid to move. And at that moment, a frightened but angry cry rang out.

"Logan! Let him go immediately! You're scaring him!"

It was Emily. The drake shoved Louie away from himself with force but stood between him and the girl, not lowering his weapon.

"That was a warning. And it applies to you too, little sister. Stay away from him."

"It's my job!" Emily retorted, frowning. Her determined look seemed to affect her brother, "I'll decide for myself who I spend time with!"

Logan gave them both a grim look, put the knife away, and left, slamming the door. Emily turned to Louie with a guilty and confused expression.

The green-eyed duckling was shaking. He didn't understand this sudden protectiveness, nor this rage, nor why everyone here seemed to be waiting for a reason to finish him off.

"Please forgive him, Fred," Emily's voice became soft and caring again, "He's... just overprotective. He always gets so nervous about me."

"I think I'm starting to get used to everything here," Louie forced out, rubbing his neck where the blade had left a mark.

"Are you hurt? Why did you come back? How did the meeting with the twins go?" questions poured out of the girl.

"Everything's... relatively okay. Feeling... alive and well. I came back because..." Louie hesitated. He couldn't explain what he himself didn't understand—his strange attraction to this girl, the only friendly face in this entire gloomy fortress.

"Hm, I thought they'd finish you off after that power redistribution," Emily smiled, and her smile was so radiant that the room seemed to brighten, "But since you're here, it can't be all bad."

Her glowing face seemed to Louie the cutest thing he'd seen in days. Especially against the backdrop of constant threats.

"You... you're one of the few who treats me normally. Why?" Louie asked, finally voicing the main question.

"Oh..." the girl was embarrassed, looked away, "It's just... you're not like them."

"What?" Louie didn't understand.

"You don't seem evil," Emily repeated quieter, "Not like all of them."

"Um... thanks, I guess?" the heir was confused, "It's nice to hear. But... what did he mean? Your brother? He said nothing should happen to you..."

"Oh, yeah..." the girl's face became serious again, "Logan is my older brother. I love him very much, but sometimes he can be..."

"Too quick-tempered?" Louie suggested.

"Yes," she sighed sadly. The boy noticed her gaze dim.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's alright. If you don't mind, I have a question too. Why are you here? In this... family? I didn't know Mr. Balcom had another son."

"It's... a very long story," Louie gave a bitter smile, "I didn't know my father was alive either."

An awkward silence hung in the room. The two ducklings avoided looking at each other, lost in their heavy thoughts.

"So... how old are you?" Emily finally asked to lighten the mood.

"Eleven. And you?"

"Really? Me too! My birthday is on the fifteenth of July."

"And mine is on the twentieth of April."

"Oh! So you're three months older than me!" the advisor's face lit up with a smile again. Louie caught himself liking to look at her immensely. He had finally found someone he could just talk to without fearing for his life.

"And how old are the twins?" Louie asked, not just out of interest but to keep the conversation going.

"They're ten, a year younger than us," Emily winked at the heir, and they both laughed like old friends.

---

All week, Louie pushed himself through grueling training. Every day ended with aching pain throughout his body and fresh bruises. But there was progress—he could now somewhat stand up for himself, though by the twins' standards, it was still catastrophically little. Ethan and Amanda still treated him with cool hatred, though a tinge of uncertain respect had begun to show through it.

He spent almost all his time with Emily. By the rules, an advisor was supposed to be near their "master." Louie began to hate the moments when they had to part. She was the only one who understood him and didn't frighten him.

Sometimes, in the silence of his room, the green-eyed duckling remembered his old life. He missed his triplet brothers the most. They had always been together, since birth. But Louie fiercely brushed these thoughts aside, branding them "traitors," and tried to immerse himself in his new reality.

Once, resting after the morning training sessions he jokingly called "morning beatings," he heard a sharp knock on the door. Opening it, he saw Amanda.

"We're going to the Continent of Evil. You're coming with us," the younger girl declared without preamble.

"Really? Of course!" Louie was delighted.

"That wasn't a question," the girl said indifferently and, turning around, walked away. Louie was already used to her barbs.

Soon the ducklings were sitting in a closed, speedy boat on autopilot, racing them toward the continent. Louie was burning with impatience to see the place that, for the rest of the world, was a symbol of horror and vice. The journey took no more than half an hour. When the boat docked at the port and Louie stepped onto the pier, his beak dropped.

The sky was covered with low, dark clouds, because of which the boy hadn't seen the sun for a week. Amanda, Ethan, and Louie stepped out onto a wide avenue, and the eldest froze, gazing at the huge skyscrapers hung with neon advertisements, countless clubs from which a thumping beat emanated, and shops with provocatively luxurious windows. A motley crowd moved through the streets. Some were in uniforms of various armies and clans, but most were ordinary townspeople hurrying about their business.

Louie's eyes burned. He immensely liked this place! It breathed energy, danger, and freedom. Everything he'd heard in Duckburg about the Continent of Evil—fairy tales about a backward village inhabited by savages. The reality turned out to be amazing.

"So... what are we actually doing here?" the duckling finally asked, snapping out of his contemplation.

"Father tasked us with signing a contract with Mr. Francis's family," Amanda answered in the same indifferent, monotonous voice. She walked, staring at a point in front of her like a programmed robot.

"Right... and who is Mr. Francis?" Louie inquired, continuing to look around in delight.

"A friend of Father's. And why do you even care?" Ethan responded this time.

"I don't know... Just curious."

A short but thick pause hung between them. It seemed even the twins were tired of the constant tension.

"I'll go on alone," Amanda suddenly said, "You two go buy a batch of daggers for the new soldiers."

"Why do we need daggers?" Louie flinched again.

"Ugh, Fred, maybe stop asking stupid questions?" Ethan rolled his eyes.

"It's like we're here for apples, not weapons!"

"Fred, we're on the Continent of Evil," his brother answered with feigned patience in his voice, "What did you expect? I don't know where you're from, but definitely not from around here. Here, a kid can buy a couple of grenades with their pocket money!"

Ethan snorted and, without another word, dissolved into the crowd.

"Okay, okay," Louie muttered sheepishly. It was unpleasant to be made out to be a child who understood nothing again.

Lifting his head, the duckling realized with horror that he had lost sight of Ethan. The streets were packed. Louie rushed in the direction where he thought his brother had gone.

Time passed, and the heir ran through unfamiliar alleys, peering panic-stricken at the faces of passersby. He mumbled encouraging words to himself under his breath, but inside he clenched with fear. Not looking where he was going, the boy ran full speed into something solid and fell onto the cool road. His arm burned with pain, but worse was the whole crowd of villains now staring at him.

"Hey, watch where you're going?!" an angry voice boomed over him, but upon seeing the child, its owner toned it down a bit, "Wait a minute... Are you from the Balcom island?"

The face of the stranger, a teenager of about fifteen, changed. A malicious, smug smirk spread across it. Louie felt an icy lump of fear in his stomach.

"Y-yes... sorry, I didn't... I didn't mean to..." the green-eyed boy stammered.

A crowd was already beginning to gather around them, whispering and pointing fingers at the heir. Louie felt like an actor on a stage being watched by hundreds of eyes.

"So you're the little stray Balcom took in!" the guy fake-smiled. The word "stray" stung Louie painfully.

"No! I'm his real son!" the boy objected, trying to stand up and preserve some dignity.

"How are you real?" the teenager snorted and roughly pushed him back to the ground, "No one's ever heard of you before. And for a Balcom offspring, you're kinda... scrawny."

Fear and rage mixed inside Louie into a cocktail that took his breath away.

"Shut up, Nolan!" a sharp, familiar voice rang out from the crowd.

Louie turned around and smiled with relief. It was Ethan.

"And how am I wrong?" the teenager playfully spread his hands.

"He's my brother! My half-brother! So shut up before I shut you up for good!" Ethan barked. He helped Louie up and threw such an icy glare at the offender that he involuntarily took a step back.

Not wanting to continue the altercation, Ethan roughly pushed Louie forward, clearing a path for him through the parting crowd.

Once they reached a deserted alley, Louie could finally catch his breath. He looked at his brother in amazement, who walked silently, staring straight ahead.

"Um... thanks. That guy... he's just a psycho."

Ethan just rolled his eyes and snorted.

"If I helped you out, it doesn't mean we're friends. We're still enemies. It's just that jerk Nolan annoys me even more than you do!"

Louie hmphed. The familiar sarcastic Ethan was back. But deep down, a tiny hope flickered. After all, he had stood up for him. Why? Wasn't it in his interest to leave Louie to be torn apart by the crowd?

A couple of minutes later, Amanda approached the brothers.

"Well, did you get them?"

"Yeah," Ethan threw out shortly, avoiding his sister's gaze.

The entire way back to the island, the children were silent. Returning to his room, Louie flopped onto the bed. A heavy, melancholy wave washed over him. He remembered his brothers. The triplets. Without Dewey and Huey, the world seemed empty and lonely.

"I wonder if they miss me?" the boy whispered quietly into the silence.

Louie remembered that in the pocket of his old hoodie, lying in the closet, was an old photograph he'd taken just in case. The duckling reached into the wardrobe, rummaged on the farthest shelf, and pulled out the picture. Dusty, slightly crumpled at the corners. The heir sat on the bed and examined it. It showed everyone who had once been dear to him. His brothers, Webby, Uncle Scrooge... and Mom.

A heavy drop fell onto the paper surface of the photograph. Then another. Louie didn't want to go back. He hated them for the lies. For the betrayal. But he missed them so much it hurt his chest. The duckling covered his face with his hands and lay down, burying his face in the pillow. And at that moment, a quiet signal sounded on his bracelet. It was a message from Emily: "Come quickly!". Wiping away his tears, Louie jumped up and rushed to her.

Chapter Text

Louie sprinted through the endless, cold corridors of the base, barely dodging soldiers at the turns. His heart pounded wildly from the frantic run. Emily's message had been urgent and frighteningly brief. The text had the duckling trembling with worry. "Is she in danger? Is she hurt? What if she was attacked?.." — the boy pushed away the worst thoughts, but they swirled in his head like a whirlwind, making him run even faster.

The heir screeched to a halt at the familiar door, almost crashing into the frame, and burst inside. The first thing that caught his eye was the overturned heavy filing cabinet, then he saw Emily herself, on her knees with trembling hands, trying to gather the shards of broken glass bottles.

"O-oh, Fred, thank goodness you're here!" her voice shook, "I-I don't know what happened. I came in, and it was already such a mess. T-the problem is, important documents got soaked with the contents of these bottles," Emily jerked her head towards the puddle spreading across the floor. Her gloves were soaked and sticky. Thick, multi-colored, pungent-smelling liquid was spilling onto the pristine white sheets of paper. The girl herself was shaking all over and speaking in an almost crying, lost voice.

"Okay, don't panic! We'll fix it!" Louie, trying to sound more confident than he felt, rushed to his friend. He braced his shoulder against the side of the overturned cabinet. The wood was incredibly heavy, the muscles in his back and arms strained, but adrenaline did its job—with a crash, the furniture righted itself. When the heir finished, he turned to the girl with a relieved smile, feeling a flash of pride.

"B-but, the documents..." Emily uttered, looking at the hopelessly ruined papers. Her eyes shone unnaturally with welling tears.

"It's okay, the main thing is you're safe," Louie tried to reassure her. He picked up one of the sheets, but the ink had bled into purple and blue streaks, the text completely illegible.

"Oh my god, your father will be furious," the girl whispered and quietly sobbed. She covered her face with her hands, not wanting her friend to see her tears and fear.

"It's not your fault. If anything, I'll say I did it. He won't do anything to me!" the boy declared with some confidence.

Louie put his arm around Emily's shoulders to comfort her, but his gaze fell on a few scarlet drops on the gray floor near her feet. His heart skipped a beat. Louie gently took his friend's hand and removed the soaked glove. The girl's palm was crisscrossed with small but deep cuts, from which blood seeped, mixing with the multi-colored liquid and staining her feathers a painful red.

"What happened?" Louie said, though the reason was obvious.

"Ah... I cut myself cleaning up the glass. It's fine, it's nothing," Emily tried to sound calm, but her voice betrayed the pain. She didn't want to bother her friend over what seemed like such a trivial matter.

"I don't think so! This needs to be treated!"

Louie went to a wall cabinet where he found a first aid kit. From the drawer, he pulled out a sterile bandage and a bottle of antiseptic. Gently taking the girl's hand, the heir carefully poured the clear liquid onto her palm. Emily sharply inhaled and frowned slightly—the antiseptic burned with a searing pain across the fresh wounds. Finished, Louie deftly, like his brother Huey used to, wrapped her hand with the bandage.

"There, all done. Not so scary, right?" the boy gave an encouraging smile and looked at his friend. Her face was flushed.

"Y-yes, thank you so much..." the advisor noticed the duckling's intense gaze and turned away, trying to hide her blush.

"You're so cute..." slipped out of Louie involuntarily, almost a whisper. Realizing what he'd done, the green-eyed boy coughed embarrassedly and looked away, feeling his cheeks begin to burn.

"Ah, thank you," Emily whispered, her voice quieter than the rustle of paper. The children fell silent; an awkward but sweet silence hung in the air. The advisor broke it first to lighten the mood.

"I didn't know you were so good with wounds."

"Yeah... My brother taught me..." Louie shared with a sigh, looking somewhere off to the side.

"Really? How long have you and Ethan been such friends?" Emily asked, surprised.

The heir flinched. Of course, he meant Huey, who was always ready to patch up the bumps and scrapes from their family adventures.

"I wouldn't say we're friends..." Louie muttered with a bitter smirk, "The twins are still too sarcastic!"

"But why did you then..."

"I have to reprint the documents!" Louie interrupted the girl sharply, almost hastily, to avoid answering dangerous questions, "Call me if you need more help!"

Fortunately, Emily decided not to press, though her look made it clear she'd noticed his discomfort and suspected something.

"Okay... And thank you again. You really saved me today."

"I didn't do anything special," Louie waved it off sheepishly and, saying goodbye, ran out of the room while Emily thoughtfully examined the neatly applied bandage, pondering everything that had happened in the last few days.

Letting out a sigh, the advisor headed to her own small room in the soldiers' wing. When Emily opened the door, she immediately flopped onto the soft bed. Her friend's words wouldn't leave her head, making her heart beat faster. She'd heard compliments from her small family and other villains, but from Fred, they sounded different—sincere and genuine.

"Ugh, what are you hoping for, you silly girl?" she whispered into the pillow.

Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted by a quiet but persistent knock on the door.

"Em, is everything okay? You came back early," came a soft, familiar voice.

"Oh.. yes, everything's fine!" the girl said, trying to sound more confident.

"Then you don't mind if I come in?" asked the same voice.

"Yes, of course..."

A duckling-teenager, a couple of years older than Emily herself, entered the room. They were strikingly similar—the same big blue eyes, the same snow-white shade of feathers. His gaze was full of calm concern.

"So... what happened?" the duckling asked softly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Nothing, Rain, it's fine," the advisor lied.

"Em, you can tell me. I promise I won't tell Logan everything if you're afraid of that," the boy's voice was so kind and sweet it could melt ice. This was another similarity they shared.

"Well... do you think the Balcoms can be... kind?" Emily was anxious but trusted her brother more than anyone in the world.

Rain was a bit surprised by the question, but his gaze became understanding, as if he knew this conversation would happen one day.

"Of course, why not? Villainy is a job. It doesn't cancel out other qualities."

"Don't you think they're terrible?" Emily looked at him questioningly.

"That they are powerful villains is true, but the Balcoms aren't terrible. I can say for sure about Amanda. In the time I've been her advisor, I haven't seen real cruelty in her. She's, you know... a normal, sweet kid. Of course, when Ethan isn't around," Rain's face became a bit more serious, but kindness was still written on it.

"I guess you're right..."

"Why did you bring this up?" the duckling smiled softly, noticing his sister's cheeks pinkening again.

"Oh, nothing... I just..."

"You like Fred, don't you?" a kind and playful grin lit up Rain's face.

"What?! No, what makes you think that?" Emily exclaimed and covered her face with her hands, feeling her entire face burn.

"Really? Admit it."

"Well, maybe just a little bit," the girl whispered, completely burying herself in the pillow.

"I'd like to get to know him better. Does Logan know?"

"Oh, no, no, and no! He doesn't know, and I hope it stays that way. Otherwise, Logan will kill Fred on the spot. And that's not a metaphor!" Emily said, a bit sadly, making Rain laugh quietly and kindly.

"Well, you're probably right about that. He is... overly caring."

The girl smiled, but soon her face became gloomy again.

"It doesn't matter anyway, he's the heir, and I'm... just a soldier. Fred won't look my way..."

"Just a soldier? Sweetie, you're the personal advisor to Frederick Balcom himself! And the cutest soldier on the entire Continent!" Rain winked at his sister, making her smile.

"Hah, thanks... you're the best big brother!" the girl got up and hugged the duckling tightly.

Rain reciprocated but, noticing the bandaged hand, whispered quietly in her ear.

"I'm happy for you, but if this Fred ever hurts you, I'll personally carry out all of Logan's fantasies on the matter."

"Rain!" Emily pulled away from him, putting on a serious face.

"Joking, joking. But what happened to your palm?" the teenager's look became worried.

"Ah, I cut myself a little while cleaning up the shards. Fred helped treat it and bandage it."

Rain listened to his sister, and his face became thoughtful. He was worried about her. The duckling believed the heirs weren't monsters, as he'd known Amanda for a long time, who deep down was just an ordinary, lonely child. But he couldn't fully trust the rest of the Balcom family, especially the ruler. In his world, trust could cost a life.

---

Another two weeks passed living on the Continent of Evil. Louie had almost gotten used to waking up before dawn. He slept at most four or five hours, and even that was a restless, fitful sleep. Every day his body ached with fatigue, but during the daily training sessions, Amanda and Ethan didn't give him a second's respite. The older brother was beaten, kicked, forced to fight until he was drenched in sweat, until his muscles screamed, until his consciousness began to drift away.

The heir detested the evening ritual of taking off the black uniform. Purple bruises covered his body and arms. Examining his haggard, gaunt face and the dark circles under his eyes in the mirror, the boy sighed wistfully, understanding that his former carefree life was gone forever. Lately, it was even hard for Louie to just get out of bed, but the little pills his father gave him worked wonders, almost instantly relieving the pain and granting a phantom vigor. The mental anguish about his former family also gradually faded, dissolving into the new reality.

"So, Fred, today you'll undergo the most important training!" Amanda exclaimed, perking up mischievously. She gave a predatory grin and roughly pushed her older brother forward.

The children were on a high training platform, which they'd had to climb via an endlessly long, almost vertical ladder. After the first dozen steps, Louie was cursing everything under his sun.

There was enough space at the top, but carelessly glancing down, the boy felt the ground vanish beneath his feet. The height wasn't extreme, but a fall promised at least serious injury.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Louie said anxiously, stepping back from the edge and turning to his sister.

"Ugh, don't be such a boring coward! Time to move to the next level. Real fighters aren't afraid of heights!"

"O-okay... what do we do here? There are no traps, just emptiness."

"It's simple. You'll fight me!" Amanda giggled, adopting a fighting stance. She was already anticipating an easy victory and another chance to humiliate her brother.

Louie's heart clenched with cold fear. He hadn't yet had to fight for real, seriously. And especially not with his sister. He'd seen her fury and knew full well the younger one would try to hurt him as much as possible.

"I-I'm not sure, I'm not ready! Give me a little more time!" Louie tried to beg off.

"Stop whining! I've been putting up with you for three weeks now, so you have to manage!" Of course, Amanda didn't believe her own words. Her sly, contemptuous look frightened the duckling even more.

Louie realized there was no retreating. The sooner he started, the sooner this nightmare would end.

"Fine!" the boy agreed through gritted teeth.

His sister threw him a training sword. Seeing his surprised face, she hurried to explain.

"Don't worry, they're not real! I decided to spare your pathetic life for now! It won't hurt... probably," Amanda smiled meaningfully.

"Great..." Louie muttered with deadly sarcasm and hesitantly grasped the hilt. The weapon was heavy and cold. It was almost impossible to distinguish from a real one. The boy carefully ran his finger along the blade—it was blunt. A wave of relief immediately washed over him.

Louie wanted to say something, but at that moment his sister rushed at him. She managed to swing, and the duckling instinctively jumped back, barely parrying the blow. His heart pounded. Amanda snorted in annoyance and attacked again. Louie retreated, defended, dodged.

"What's wrong with you?!" the girl shrieked in anger, "We're here to learn to fight, not play tag!"

"Yeah, yeah, sorry... reflex," the frightened brother muttered, feeling his knees trembling treacherously.

After many unsuccessful attempts to attack somehow, Louie was exhausted. Amanda, however, moved lightly and gracefully, as if fatigue didn't touch her. Finally, she performed a sweep and knocked the older one off his feet, pinning him to the very edge of the platform.

"You're such a nobody!" the younger one exhaled with contempt, standing over him, "Are you really our brother? A weakling like you is a disgrace to the whole family!"

It hurt Louie deeply to hear this, but he couldn't find the strength to object.

Suddenly, slow, sarcastic applause sounded. They both turned their heads and saw a smirking Ethan. He was sitting on a high metal beam attached to the wall, legs dangling, watching them with the air of a critic.

"Ye-eah, amazing," the boy drawled mockingly, "You beat the weakest. Should we get you a medal? Or build a monument?"

"Enough already!" Louie shouted, getting up, "I'm not that weak!"

The younger ones just laughed louder at his pathetic attempt to defend himself. At that moment, something inside Louie snapped. All the accumulated anger, humiliation, and pain of the weeks burst out. With a low growl, he made a sharp lunge forward, delivering an unexpected blow. Amanda recoiled to dodge but, forgetting about the edge, slipped on the smooth floor. Her leg suddenly went into the void, and the girl fell with a piercing, horror-filled scream.

Louie's face turned white. In all his time on the Continent of Evil, he had never been so afraid. What had he done?

"O-ho-ho, well, look at you!" Ethan praised with unconcealed surprise and even approval, "Didn't expect that from you, Fred! Respect!"

Ignoring his brother, the older one rushed down the stairs, jumping over steps. He prayed to all the gods that Amanda was okay. But no miracle happened. Descending, the boy saw his sister sitting on the concrete floor, clutching her right knee. Tears streamed down her cheeks, leaving dark trails on the dusty floor. She tried to hold back sobs, biting her lower beak, considering it a sign of weakness, and didn't lift her head at her brother's desperate calls.

"Oh God! Amanda, sorry, sorry! It's my fault!" Louie shouted in panic, falling to his knees before her. He didn't know what to do. "What will happen if Father finds out? He'll kill me!" spun in his head.

At that moment, Ethan descended too. At first, he just watched condescendingly and occasionally giggled, but seeing his sister's wound, he abruptly stopped smirking and fell silent, his face becoming serious. Amanda, gritting her teeth, tried to move her leg and stifled a new cry of pain. Louie vainly tried to examine the injury.

"Why are you so insensitive?!" the older one turned to Ethan, "Your sister just almost got killed! Maybe stop laughing?!"

"Yeah, I'm here..." Ethan hesitated, looking at his sister's suffering face, "Alright, sort it out here, I need to... finish something," he threw out with unnatural haste and practically ran away, slamming the door.

"Okay, Amanda, let me look," Louie hurried, reaching out his hand, but she roughly shoved it away.

"L-leave me alone! I'm fine! See?" the younger one tried to stand on her feet, but the injured knee buckled, and she collapsed to the floor with a new, heart-wrenching cry of pain, no longer able to hold back the tears.

"Amanda, this is important! Let me take you to the infirmary! It'll be better!" Louie pleaded. He didn't have tender feelings for his sister, but the sight of her helplessness and pain evoked acute sympathy in him. She looked like a shot bird.

The little girl finally gave in and nodded weakly, sobbing. Louie carefully, trying not to touch the sore leg, picked up his sister. He ran through the corridors, not feeling her weight—after weeks of training, he was used to heavy loads. Amanda, besides the piercing pain, felt burning embarrassment. She didn't understand why her brother, whom she had tormented so much, was helping her.

Finding the right door, Louie pushed it open and laid his sister on a hard medical couch. He excitedly, incoherently began to explain to the doctor what had happened. The doctor, after a silent examination of the leg, diagnosed a fracture. Hearing this, Amanda burst into even louder tears, and Louie was ready to sink through the floor from guilt.

"I must inform your father," the doctor said impassively, turning to leave.

"N-no, p-please, d-don't!" Amanda's voice broke into a shrill, pure-terror screech.

But the doctor didn't even turn around. When he left, Louie approached his sister and sat on the edge of the couch.

"Don't worry, Father won't punish you," the older one tried to calm her, "It's not your fault."

"You don't understand anything..." the younger one groaned, turning away.

"I know him. Not as well as you, but I..."

"No!" Amanda interrupted her brother, raising her tear-streaked face, "I'm already the most useless in his eyes! Now even more so!"

A heavy silence hung in the room. The girl started crying again. Louie looked at her, not understanding.

"What are you talking about? Father loves us all. Doesn't he?"

"Maybe just you and Ethan. Fred, do you even know how command of the army is passed down in our family?" the girl asked, sobbing.

"Well, no," Louie admitted, "Don't we get an equal share?"

"The eldest heir gets almost the entire fortune and command of the troops," the heirress forced out, "The remaining, smaller part is divided among the younger ones, mostly the sons. And as you can see, I'm the youngest. And a girl, too," Amanda whispered the last words so quietly he could barely hear them.

"I'm not sure that's true. And even if it is... you're strong. You're smart. You deserve more!" Louie tried to comfort her.

His sister realized the duckling was speaking sincerely, and a weak, grateful smile flickered across her face.

"Thank you... but I'm afraid in our world of villains, ancient and stupid rules decide everything."

Amanda had felt inferior to her brother since childhood. Ethan constantly pointed out her "flaws" and "weakness," convincing her she would never be his equal. Louie's appearance had only worsened her fears.

"Why did you help me?" suddenly burst out of her.

"Well, it's my fault. I shouldn't have pushed you. I just..."

"Tired of our constant bullying?" his sister finished for him.

Louie just nodded silently, looking at the floor.

"Sorry," Amanda said quietly, "You... you're much better than I thought."

"Good to hear," the boy smiled uncertainly.

Louie wanted to ask another question, but the door swung open, and Derek entered the room. His face was calm, but a slight concern was readable in his eyes. The girl shrank, but Louie silently took her hand. Both ducklings felt a strange connection—after so many days of hatred, they suddenly understood each other.

"What happened, sweetie?" Father said in his velvety, soft voice.

"We were just training, and there was an accident!" Louie answered quickly, ahead of his sister, "It's entirely my fault!"

"Well, in our difficult trade, accidents happen," Derek remarked philosophically, "Sweetie, does it hurt badly?" he turned to his daughter, and his gaze became piercing.

"A little..." Amanda whispered, lowering her eyes.

Derek took a familiar pack of pills from his inner jacket pocket and handed one to his daughter. She swallowed it without a second thought. Almost instantly, the tension on her face eased, the tears dried.

"Thank you, Father..."

"The sharp pain will pass, but discomfort will remain," Derek warned, "You'll be able to walk, but be careful."

Amanda obediently got to her feet and took an uncertain step, limping slightly.

"You'd better rest in your room. Fred, could you escort your sister?" Derek turned to his son.

"Yes, of course," Louie agreed immediately. As a farewell, he discreetly slipped a pack of those same pills into his pocket, offered his hand to Amanda, and they slowly left the infirmary.

In the common hall, Ethan was already waiting for them, leaning against the wall with an air of complete indifference.

"Alive, how nice," the boy tossed out, not even looking at them.

"Ethan..." Louie growled warningly, stopping.

"Calm down, hero. And, Amanda, I'm glad you're more or less intact, of course. But don't think I suddenly consider you family or some nonsense," the heir corrected himself, trying to look cold.

"Um... thanks?" the sister said uncertainly, looking at him with slight surprise.

Entering Amanda's room, Louie glanced around. The room was almost an exact copy of his own—the same strict furniture, the same view from the window. It was distinguished only by small details: a few posters of bands he didn't know, scattered jewelry on the table, and a tattered book in a leather binding lying on the pillow. He carefully moved it to seat his sister.

"Stop! Give it back!" Amanda suddenly shouted sharply, and genuine panic sounded in her voice.

"Whoa, okay. Do you really need it right now?" Louie was genuinely surprised. After such an injury, thinking about reading?

"Yes," the sister answered shortly but very firmly, snatching the book from his hands and pressing it to her chest.

Louie made sure Amanda didn't need anything else and went out into the common hall. Ethan was still standing there, clearly pondering something.

"Just a question. Don't think I'm really interested, but how is she?" the younger one asked, not looking at Louie.

"Ah... seems okay. Just guarding some old book like the apple of her eye. Weird..."

"Right. It's not weird," Ethan answered.

"Then explain, since you're such a know-it-all," Louie really didn't understand. An image of Huey with his well-thumbed encyclopedia surfaced in his memory, and his heart grew bitter.

"It's the only thing left of our mother."

Chapter Text

Louie looked at his younger brother in amazement. The latter just snorted mockingly, sprawling on the back of the snow-white sofa, while the former Duck tried to cope with the overwhelming shock. Ethan's words hung in the air, thick and significant, like smoke after an explosion.

"What? Your mom?" Louie repeated slowly, as if tasting the words. He had wondered before about the whereabouts of the mother of the two aggressive ducklings. But the topic was hidden—the children never brought it up first, and the older one, absorbed in his own problems, hadn't asked. Now curiosity overcame caution.

"Well... yeah," Ethan began uncertainly, but a spark of pride flashed in his eyes, and a rare, almost unfamiliar smile appeared on his beak, "She was a powerful sorceress. The strongest I know. And her beauty knew no bounds!" his voice rang with admiration, and Louie was struck by this change.

But many questions still remained unanswered.

"But what about her now? Where is she?" the older one asked quietly.

"Mom was gone when we were just three months old," Amanda interjected softly. She had come out of her room, drawn by the voices, and now stood in the doorway, clutching that same leather-bound book to her chest. This was a topic that concerned the girl more than anything in the world.

"Oh... I'm sorry..." Louie muttered, genuinely feeling sorry for the twins. His own story about his mother was no less tangled and painful. Now he himself had cut ties with Della, feeling no guilt.

"We don't know the details..." Ethan averted his gaze, crossing his arms over his chest, and his voice became prickly again, "Father just said she was gone, that's all."

His brother's words echoed in Louie's soul. Uncle Donald had spoken about Della in exactly the same way. The same evasiveness, the same pain masked by concern.

"She left me this book," Amanda said quietly, running her fingers over the worn leather cover, "It's her diary. Mom wrote down all her spells, rituals, everything she knew about magic. I sometimes think... maybe there's a spark of her in us too?" the girl's eyes, bright green like emeralds, shone with welling tears.

"Stop talking nonsense!" Ethan suddenly shouted, losing his temper, "You know perfectly well magic doesn't work that way!"

"I know! But I don't want to do it that way!" his sister retorted, her voice trembling.

"Do what exactly? What are you talking about?" Louie clarified, completely losing the thread of the conversation.

"It doesn't matter..." Amanda whispered, turning away, "We just... we want to see her. Even for a glimpse. That's why we've been collecting moon crystals all our lives," the heirress carefully opened the book to a pre-marked page adorned with drawings of intricate gems and showed it to her older brother.

"It says here they can help resurrect the dead or heal any wound..." Louie read, and his blood ran cold, "But for that you need... a body..." horrifying images flashed through his mind.

"Yes, but that's not what we need," Ethan interrupted him hastily, "Read on. It says that with their help, you can summon the spirit of the deceased. They'll return to our world as a ghost for a short time. Just for one night."

"And... how many crystals do you have already?" the older one asked, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Two," Amanda admitted sadly, "We need a whole five. And they're incredibly difficult to get. They're too... rare."

Louie didn't know what to say. He hadn't expected that beneath the mask of cynicism and cruelty, the twins hid such deep, childlike pain.

"That's... terribly sad. And it reminds me a bit of my story..."

"Yeah, since it's our night of revelations," Ethan looked intently at his brother, "maybe you'll tell your truth? Where are you really from? Why are you here?"

The older one sighed heavily and leaned back against the sofa. He didn't want to reveal all his cards, but the twins had shared their deepest secret. That had to mean something.

"How to explain... I really wasn't always a villain. I used to live in Duckburg. It's... nothing like the Continent of Evil. My mom... she was lost on the Moon many years ago. And my uncle raised me and my brothers..."

"Wait, wait! Brothers?!" the astonished twins exhaled in unison, their eyes wide with surprise.

"Yeah, I have triplet brothers," Louie nodded, and images of Huey and Dewey surfaced in his memory—their shared mischief, laughter, arguments, and reconciliations. And that bitter resentment that still hadn't let go.

"Oh, horror!" Amanda snorted, crossing her arms, "Will I ever have a sister? Why am I surrounded by brothers?"

"Ugh, I hope not! One of you is more than enough!" Ethan rolled his eyes.

Throwing an angry look at him, Amanda still turned to Louie, her whole demeanor showing she was waiting for the continuation.

"A couple of years ago, we moved into our great-uncle's mansion. Mom came back. And I... I couldn't accept it. The whole family took her side, not mine. I couldn't live like that anymore. So I left with Father to come here."

Louie didn't know what reaction to expect. But he felt unexpectedly lighter after this confession. Amanda and Ethan were looking at him wide-eyed, and their gazes held not judgment but understanding.

"You've had it rough too," Amanda said quietly, "But... how did you live there? I mean... everyone outside the Continent of Evil hates the Balcoms."

"Like any other villains," Ethan added with venomous malice.

"And I wasn't a villain. I was always known as Louie Duck," the boy admitted.

And then the duckling saw the twins' faces change with shock and disbelief. The ground seemed to vanish from under their feet.

"Duck?!" Ethan exclaimed, recoiling from the older one as if from someone infected with a deadly virus, "You're one of them? They're our sworn enemies!"

Amanda silently took a step back, her gaze full of confusion and fear.

"What? Enemies? Why?" Louie didn't understand.

"What, you don't know? They... they... always ruin everything! All our plans!" Ethan blurted out, not finding specific accusations.

"You don't even know why yourselves?" the older one raised an eyebrow in surprise, guessing.

"Yeah..." the twins admitted almost in a whisper, embarrassed.

"Father said so," Ethan shrugged, trying to regain his confidence, "And ask anyone on the continent, no one is thrilled about that family."

Louie was even more surprised. Didn't Father speak well of the Ducks? He had helped them in the past himself.

"Oh, well... I'm not with them anymore..." the duckling mumbled, lowering his head.

"So your real name is Louie?" Ethan clarified, his voice softening when he saw his brother's dejection.

"Yeah, Llewellyn Duck!" the boy said this with involuntary, residual pride that he still felt for his name, "But everyone just called me Louie."

Amanda smiled a little, and an approving purr sounded in her throat.

"Hmm, I like 'Louie' much better than that 'Fred.' Why did you change your name?"

"I didn't want anything left in common with that... previous world."

"I agree with Amanda," Ethan muttered reluctantly, "Well, then... it turns out you're not such a nobody as we thought."

The twins exchanged glances and giggled quietly. But this time their laughter wasn't mean or sarcastic—it sounded kind, genuine.

"Thanks, I guess," Louie snorted, "And I didn't know you could smile without trying to humiliate someone."

"You know..." Amanda began thoughtfully, "We are family after all. A strange one, but family. We shouldn't fight each other. And I'm sure the inheritance will be enough for everyone. We're rich! Well... more precisely, Father is rich," She resolutely stepped forward and held out her palm. After a moment's hesitation, Ethan placed his hand on top of hers. Louie, with a wide smile, completed their impromptu handshake.

---

Two months had passed since Louie settled on the Continent of Evil. In that time, he had gotten to know his siblings from a completely new side. They still sniped and teased each other, but now it was more out of familiar attachment than real hatred. The children had definitely become a family that many would want to have.

Training was no longer so agonizing. Under the guidance of Amanda and Ethan, when they weren't arguing, Louie, to his own surprise, had practically turned into a warrior. He had mastered the basics of hand-to-hand combat, learned to handle a sword fairly well, and even became a decent shot. The former slacker was less recognizable—the duckling still loved to sleep and eat well, but now there was discipline in his life.

Although, food on the Continent of Evil was a problem—it was nutritious but tasteless, functional. Louie often missed Mrs. Beakley's fragrant pies and understood that food without pleasure was just fuel.

He spent more and more time with Emily. Her older brother Logan still threw threatening glances at Louie, but the duckling himself felt more confident in the skin of Frederick Balcom with each passing day.

Most inhabitants of the Continent of Evil now treated the boy with marked respect, even fear. The authority of the Black Army and the Balcom family was unquestionable. Even among powerful villains, they were the elite. At first, people gave him sidelong glances, but soon the most incredible rumors about the mysterious eldest heir spread across the continent. Eavesdropping on them, Louie just chuckled and later told the twins what was true and what was fiction. He quickly understood how to use his new status. And Amanda hadn't lied—they were incredibly rich. His childhood dream had come true, but somewhere deep down there was still a void that neither money nor power could fill.

"Good morning. What's the plan for today?" Louie asked, yawning sweetly and stretching.

"Father asked us to come to his office. All three of us," Amanda said, and a slight anxiety was heard in her voice. Usually, such general meetings meant something very important. Or very unpleasant.

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go!" Ethan commanded, trying to sound cheerful.

The three ducklings headed down the familiar cold corridors. Before, they would have walked in silence, lost in their thoughts, but now their path was accompanied by cheerful chatter and teasing. Reaching the massive office door, the chicks suddenly hesitated, glancing at each other uncertainly.

"Okay, it's like always. It's nothing," Louie said encouragingly, mostly trying to convince himself.

The ducklings entered. Derek was sitting at his desk, but upon their arrival, he stood up and greeted them with a wide, impeccable smile. However, something heavy and unfamiliar shone in his eyes.

"So, I assume you've grown up enough," the drake began, sweeping his piercing gaze over the children, "It's time to take the next step."

"In what sense?" Louie asked warily, understanding from the pale, tense faces of his brother and sister that they suspected something terrible.

"You will participate in the game 'Heroes and Death.' Starting next month."

A dead silence fell. As if someone had turned off the sound in the room. Louie saw Amanda and Ethan's faces turn absolutely white, their feathers standing on end. A shudder ran down their backs.

"W-what? Father, we're not ready, please, don't..." Ethan's voice broke into a shrill, childish whisper, full of pure horror.

"Please, it's too cruel. We can't," Amanda supported her brother, and her hands trembled helplessly.

Louie looked at them, and icy horror slowly began to fill him too. He didn't understand what this game was, but the twins' reaction made it clear—nothing good awaited them.

"Wh-what is that?" the older one forced out.

"Ethan and Amanda will explain everything to you later," Derek replied, watching the panicked children. He came closer to them and carefully hugged them, "Calm down. Every self-respecting villain on the Continent of Evil goes through this. It's terrible, but you'll be fine."

The ducklings stood as if rooted to the spot, paralyzed by fear. Derek's voice was soft and soothing again. He handed the children three small objects, similar to pendants made of dark, almost black metal with a dull stone in the center.

"Take them. This will help you gather your first magic. It will come in handy."

Louie automatically took the pendants. Their metal was icy to the touch. Without a word, the trio hastily left the office, flooded with unnaturally bright light.

Returning to the common living room, the ducklings silently collapsed onto the sofa. A slight tremor emanated from Amanda and Ethan. Louie, suppressing his own growing fear, mustered the courage to repeat the question.

"So... what the hell is that?"

"'Heroes and Death' is not a game," Amanda whispered, staring at a point in front of her, "It's a hunt. A hunt against the Aetherials. Only, not all hunters return home..."

"Against whom?" Louie didn't understand, frowning. He had heard this word in villains' conversations but never delved into the details.

"Aetherials are bores and upstarts!" Ethan grumbled, twisting his beak into a grimace of disgust.

"Creatures covered in the finest, golden pollen-like scales," Amanda began to explain quietly, monotonously, as if reciting a lesson, "Their skin shimmers with cold metal, and their eyes shine with an even, soulless golden light. They always look arrogant, aristocratic, and devilishly rich."

"And why do we hate them so much?" Louie persisted with questions, feeling goosebumps run down his spine.

"Because they hate us first!" Ethan snorted, crossing his arms.

"Aetherials feed not on matter, but on emotions, memories, souls," Amanda continued, her voice sounding detached, "They believe the value of any life lies in its unique emotional experience. After... 'collection'... the creature's experience is stored forever in their 'Great Archive,' achieving a pitiful immortality as a memory. They themselves hardly experience emotions, seeing in us, in our passions, fears, and rage... merely a valuable resource."

Louie sighed. The chilling picture finally came together.

"So, villains fight them to... save themselves? To not become their dinner?"

"Well... yes, you could say that," Ethan drawled, looking at the floor, "Long ago, our ancestors and the Aetherials made a pact. Sometimes games are held. Their outcome decides everything. If we win—they leave us alone for many years. If the Aetherials win... the losers become their 'collection.'"

"They take us to a neutral, abandoned territory—a former battlefield," Amanda's voice trembled, "And release them against us. The strongest survive. The rest..." she didn't finish, but it was clear anyway. Her gaze finished the sentence more eloquently than any words.

The older one recoiled, his heart pounding wildly. He didn't want to believe it. Could their own father really send them into such a thing?

"This can't be!" Louie cried out desperately.

"Father is right about one thing," Ethan stated lifelessly, "Sooner or later, our time had to come. Every villain of the highest echelon goes through this. It's... a test of strength. The price we pay for our power and position."

"That doesn't make the game any better!" Amanda almost shouted, clenching her fists.

"And what are these pendants for then?" Louie asked, opening his palm and looking at the three dark, cold amulets lying on it.

"Do you know how to get magic if you're not born with it?" Amanda began to explain quietly, almost in a whisper, "When you... take the life of another being... its essence, its energy is released. This pendant..." the girl pointed to the gloomy stone, "...it absorbs it. Like a sponge. That's how power, foreign magic, accumulates in you. And when there's enough of it... the amulet won't be needed anymore. You'll become its new source. It's the only way to quickly gain strength capable of opposing them."

Louie leaned against the cold wall, feeling his legs give way. The only thing preventing him from fainting was a weak, hysterical hope that such monstrous "traditions" on the Continent of Evil were commonplace, something everyone accepted as a given.

The next day, the ducklings spent in oppressive, crushing silence. Fear hung in the air, thick and sticky like smog. But when in the evening they, like zombies, took their usual "vitamins" from their father, the anxiety strangely receded, replaced by an unnatural, almost narcotic calm and even slight excitement. The heirs understood that something was wrong with the pills, that it was a deception, chemical confidence. But they didn't dare argue with their father. They had to go through with it. There was no other way.

Chapter Text

"Louie, focus! Try harder! The hunt is tomorrow!" Amanda's voice cut sharply, like a whip crack, echoing in the spacious, cold training hall. The girl watched with irritation as her brother's wooden sword once again scraped off the training dummy's armor without leaving a scratch.

"I'm trying. Honestly!" the older one defended himself, his voice trembling. His gloved palms were sweaty, gripping the hilt. He was nauseatingly scared to participate in a fight to the death, but there was essentially no choice.

It seemed that since the day the boy was declared a villain, his life had turned into an endless performance according to someone else's rules, where his own desires meant absolutely nothing.

"He's ready," Ethan stated flatly, without emotion, from the sidelines where he was leaning against the cold stone wall.

"No! It has to be perfect! One mistake—and we become part of their 'collection'!" the sister didn't calm down, clenching her fists. Her feathers were slightly ruffled from nervous tension.

"To win, we need to... kill all the Aetherials?" Louie decided to clarify, looking at the training weapon with disgust. Every day the duckling postponed this conversation as long as he could, to not feel like future prey. The mere thought of what was to come filled him with soul-chilling horror.

"No," Ethan answered sharply, almost cutting him off, "Killing them all is impossible. They're not alive in our understanding. Our goal is to hold out until the end, activate the evacuation beacon, and survive. And the number of 'collected' Aetherial essences determines your status and... the strength of the magic you'll receive," The twins were not pleased that their older brother still hadn't bothered to thoroughly study the rules of the game where he could die.

"Why would anyone agree to this? It's disgusting and horrible!"

"Because we're on the Continent of Evil, silly!" Amanda snorted, crossing her arms over her chest, "These are the traditions here. This isn't your Duckburg, where all problems are solved with hugs and pies!"

Louie wanted to object, since the girl had no idea about the real differences between the worlds, but he decided now wasn't the best time for ideological debates.

"Okay, let's continue," Ethan suggested, trying to somehow defuse the tense, prickly atmosphere.

---

That evening, Louie tried not to move. His whole body ached and buzzed from overexertion, every muscle screamed in protest. The boy just lay there and aimlessly scrolled through the news feed on his bracelet, trying to distract himself. Out of curiosity, the duckling decided to check what was happening in Duckburg. Due to the endless adventures of his famous family, tons of new gossip and sensations appeared online every day.

Typing the name of his hometown into the search engine, the heir was surprised to find nothing. Not a single line related to Duckburg.

"Ugh, what's wrong?!" the child whispered, a barely audible but irritated hiss.

Louie tried to search for information again and again, changing queries, but it was all in vain. In despair, the boy threw the bracelet on the blanket and fell onto his back, staring at the gloomy ceiling. Relaxing was completely impossible. Thoughts of tomorrow's hunt, like sharp thorns, dug into his consciousness, piercing through. After a couple of minutes of unsuccessful attempts to forget, the duckling gave up and trudged off to ask Ethan and Amanda for help.

The twins were sitting in the common living room. They were whispering about possible plans for tomorrow, about what else they could do to save themselves. Louie approached them uncertainly, interrupting his sister's anxious monologue.

"Listen, do you, by any chance, have any device that can... well, spy on someone from afar?"

The children just exchanged glances, then stared at their brother with a silent question in their eyes.

"Um, probably, there is," Amanda finally answered, not taking her bright, piercing eyes off the former Duck, "But why do you need it?"

"Oh, nothing... just curious. Doesn't matter."

"Snooping on others isn't nice, Llewellyn," a sly smirk spread across Ethan's face. At the mention of his full name, the older one just rolled his eyes.

"Okay, I'm just dying to know what's happening in Duckburg right now! Why can't I find a single news item about it? The network is full of information, but it's like everything connected to life outside the Continent of Evil has been erased!"

"Why do we even need to know what's happening on those backward lands?" Amanda picked up on the twin's mood and smiled.

"They're not backward! They're just... different!" Louie objected, and his feathers ruffled again.

"Okay, okay, I was joking!"

"I had one long-range surveillance camera," Ethan admitted reluctantly, "Just dictate the exact address to it, and voila! You can see even Antarctica in real time!"

"And the camera won't be visible?" Louie clarified.

"Well, of course not! It has a camouflage field!" Ethan was already losing patience with the pointless questions.

"Can you lend it to me?" the duckling was already getting happy, but then he noticed his brother's face light up with a cunning, calculating grin.

"Hmm, well, I don't know, Louie... What if you break it... It's expensive..."

"What do you want in return?" the older one interrupted the boy with a heavy sigh. He knew these games of his half-brother.

"Bring us hot dogs!" Ethan almost shouted. This proposal left Louie completely stunned, while his younger sister, on the contrary, squealed with delight.

"Are you serious?" the young villain asked gloomily, shuddering at the mere memory of the taste of that dish.

"Louie, it's all tasteless synthetic stuff here! You've tried the local food yourself. And I heard hot dogs are something incredible! Their taste is so amazing, it's incomparable!"

"Yeah, I also dream of trying something real, not this tasteless food from the Continent!" the sister supported her brother with enthusiasm, her eyes shining.

"Of all the gastronomic variety, you chose hot dogs? I've never eaten anything more disgusting in my life!" Louie grimaced. The boy almost felt sick just from the memory.

"Okay, then what do you suggest?" Ethan asked, and his grin became even wider and more cunning.

"Anything! Duckburg is full of normal, tasty food. Pizza, juicy burgers, crispy fries!"

From this simple listing, the twins' eyes flashed with real greed. They had only heard snippets about how delicious food could be "outside," but they had never tried it themselves.

"Then it's decided!" Amanda exclaimed, clapping her hands, "We're going to Duckburg!"

"What? No! No way!" Louie cried out in response, feeling his legs give way.

"What's there to be afraid of? They won't even recognize us there!" Ethan sounded surprisingly convincing and cheerful.

"I-I can't... I'm there..."

"But we can!" the sister interrupted the older one, "The choice is yours: either you come with us, or we go alone!"

Louie imagined with horror what these two could do in his hometown on their own. The twins knew absolutely nothing about life outside the Continent of Evil. Their ideas consisted of stupid stereotypes and rumors. Plus, they could accidentally reveal their affiliation with the Balcom clan at any moment. What would they do with two little, lost villain ducklings in a city that so disliked the Continent of Evil and its inhabitants? So Louie had no choice.

"Okay, okay, you damn provocateurs!" the duckling exhaled tensely.

"Let's also celebrate our upcoming victory in the hunt!" Ethan smirked smugly.

"Are you that confident?" Louie and Amanda asked almost in unison, doubtfully.

"Well, of course. Being winners is in our blood," Ethan paused for a second, as if remembering something, "So we'll manage. Definitely."

"We have no choice, as always, so... we'll do everything we can," Louie sighed hollowly and turned to go to his room. At first, the boy wanted to take the camera, but now it was unnecessary. If they somehow survived tomorrow, instead of spying, a full-fledged trip to Duckburg awaited him. Against the backdrop of current problems, this idea no longer seemed so crazy to him.

---

The next day felt like the last of their lives. All night the ducklings tossed and turned, not closing their eyes, watching the relentless movement of the clock hands and helplessly wishing morning would never come.

"Ready? Did you take your pills?" came Derek's surprisingly calm, even voice.

"Yes..." the ducklings answered tiredly, in unison, to both questions. The feeling of fear was dulled by the medication, but it was replaced by a heavy, oppressive apathy and a sense of complete hopelessness.

"Excellent. You must not lose. Everything will be fine, kids," the drake's face softened but remained serious. The ducklings just nodded silently and entered the dark, cold preparation room.

The children silently dressed in what felt like suffocatingly tight Black Army suits, pulled up hoods and masks that hid their expressions. Under the uniform, on each of their chests, lay that same pendant, cold to the touch. With trembling hands, the children took the issued weapons—icy, uncomfortable, alien—and froze in anticipation with pounding hearts.

The commentator's voice, booming and amplified many times over, announced the countdown. When the last number sounded, the massive doors grated open, and a stream of fighters poured onto the field. It was frighteningly huge and represented an abandoned, dead place of an ancient battle, shrouded in a strange, shimmering, almost tangible fog. The air rang with concentrated magical energy and smelled of ozone after a thunderstorm and cold, icy metal.

Louie looked bewildered at the gloomy ruins before him. He shifted his gaze to the camouflaged figures of his brother and sister. Ethan gestured abruptly in the direction they needed to move.

Each team started from different platforms, scattered far apart across the giant arena. Louie clearly understood that thousands of spectators' eyes were watching their every step, and this thought made him even more anxious and nauseous. Communication with the group was only possible through a miniature earpiece.

"Let's start... remember: reach the beacon at any cost!" Ethan whispered, and his voice trembled slightly in the microphone. Louie and Amanda silently, barely noticeably, nodded.

"Sounds so reassuring..." the older one muttered sarcastically under his breath.

"Main thing—try not to get spotted by the Aetherials," the younger one said, addressing Louie specifically. She still wasn't confident in his training, so she just blindly hoped for the best.

For the first while, all three moved together, trying not to lose sight of each other. Their already accelerated heartbeats quickened even more from running. Soon the ducklings ran into an area where the fog thickened into an impenetrable milky veil, dancing with golden sparks. Visibility dropped to almost zero, and only the crunch of stones and rubble underfoot reminded them they were still on this terrible field.

"Hey, guys, where are you?" Louie asked fearfully into the microphone, horrified to realize he was completely alone.

"Where the fog is..." came Ethan's whisper, overlaid with static.

"Me too. Fog everywhere," Amanda responded, and the same anxiety was heard in her voice.

"Then we get there separately!" Ethan commanded, already sternly, gathering his will, "No delays! If anyone gets in trouble—scream!"

Louie ran, almost blindly, guided only by instinct. He had always feared the unknown, and now that fear was tenfold. "Why don't I have any device to see through all this fog! Webby wouldn't be lost right now!" flashed through the boy's mind. His friend really could have helped him. Pushing the wistful thoughts of the past out of his head, the heir continued on his way.

After a couple of minutes, Louie finally ran out into a small clearing where the fog had thinned a bit. The duckling noticed an old chest covered in faded runes and, on impulse, ran to it hoping to find something useful. The lid creaked open, and a blinding golden light burst from the box, a binding beam enveloping the duckling's hand, pinning it to the stone. His hand went numb and ached as if plunged into ice.

"What the?!" the boy cried out in fright, jerking. Louie tried with all his might to tear his hand away from the magical bonds, but he failed.

From the thick fog, a tall, incredibly slender figure materialized silently. The boy thought someone his own age stood before him. An Aetherial. Its skin shimmered with cold bronze metal, and its eyes shone with an even, utterly soulless golden light, exactly as Amanda had described. It hovered above the ground, and the finest scales covering its body scattered in the air like golden pollen. Its serene gaze was full of cold, scientific curiosity.

"Oh, a fledgling. Lost and so... frightened," its voice sounded melodious but was completely devoid of emotion, like the chiming of crystal bells, "Your fear... it's so rich, tasty. A valuable specimen for the Great Archive."

Louie's heart pounded, ready to jump out of his chest. He cast a frightened glance around in a vain hope of finding help. Out of the corner of his eye, the duckling noticed his pistol, which had flown off a short distance. There was no way to reach it quickly. The Aetherial would attack sooner. And then Louie remembered his knife, engraved with suppressing runes.

"Why are you doing this?" the duckling whispered tensely, trying to buy precious seconds. With his free hand, he began to stealthily reach for his belt, where a sharp knife hung.

"We preserve value. Your brief, fleeting life will gain eternity in the memory of the Great Archive. That is more than beings like you generally deserve," came the impassive response.

The Aetherial slowly floated forward, extending a graceful, long hand. Its fingers began to glow with a blinding golden radiance. But Louie made it! With a sharp motion, he cut the beam with the knife. The runes on the blade flared with a piercing blue light, and the beam went out. The duckling tumbled towards the pistol. Picking it up, the boy, without aiming, shot at the shining eyes. A quiet, clear, high-pitched sound rang out, as if a crystal glass had shattered. The creature flickered and began to disintegrate into myriads of golden, sparkling dust particles.

"Did I do that? Me?.." spun in the shocked child's head. His breath caught and hitched. Goosebumps prickled piercingly all over his body.

The child's stupor was interrupted by the commentator's loud, triumphant voice, which made all his feathers stand on end.

"A lower-order Aetherial neutralized! A point for Team Balcom!"

Louie, overcoming the trembling in his legs, ran to the spot where the now lifeless creature lay. Looking at the shot head from which golden blood oozed, the duckling felt nausea in his throat. A faint, fading glow still hung in the air, like a cloud of sparkling dust. The boy, with a trembling hand, took out his pendant.

"Come on... As Amanda taught..." Louie muttered under his breath, trying to calm his frantic heartbeat. He recited a short, memorized spell. The remnants of light, like shining pollen, were drawn to the dark stone of the amulet, which responded with a warm, living pulse for a moment. The duckling hid the jewelry on his chest again. As if an inner voice commanded him, Louie resolutely stood up and ran forward again.

His run was accompanied by the commentator's voice, every now and then announcing the names of those "collected" by the Aetherials. Each time, the child froze, afraid to hear familiar names. He believed in his brother and sister more than in himself, but even that didn't allow him to relax for a second.

Amanda, at this time, was in another part of the field, where ancient ruins were melted and blackened from long-ago, mighty magic. She was making her way forward, trying to pass this cursed place quickly, but suddenly the air in front of her thickened, and another shining figure materialized. The Aetherial hovered before her, its soulless gaze studying her, scanning.

"A strong specimen. Anger, rage, determination... a delightful cocktail," the same melodious, emotionless voice sounded.

Icy goosebumps ran down Amanda's back. She physically felt her own emotions being pulled out, leaving behind a freezing emptiness inside. The girl instantly, on reflex, drew her knife and with a low cry rushed forward. The blade, blackened with obsidian, cut through the radiance like fabric. The Aetherial emitted a high-pitched, unbearable sound. Without hesitating for a moment, she plunged the weapon into its chest.

The creature instantly fell to its feet. Covering her beak with her hand, Amanda trembled. She felt not disgust, but the deepest, all-consuming existential horror of the process itself. It had to be finished. The heir, trying not to breathe, carefully took out the pendant to absorb the dissipating energy.

Ethan, during this time, had quietly disposed of several lower Aetherials that tried to block his path. Unlike his brother and sister, he was psychologically prepared for this. The boy confidently ran towards the finish line, all the while hoping that his recently found family was okay. He had genuinely become attached to them in this short time.

Almost all teams were busy with their own survival, so the ducklings encountered not each other, but other hunters much more often than they would have liked. Each time, the children survived only thanks to blind luck and reflexes drilled into them during training. With each new encounter, acting became a little easier, but the heirs couldn't forget that metaphysical, universal horror. They weren't just killing; they were "collecting," and this realization was many times more terrifying.

Louie continued to run, jumping over deep cracks in the ground, climbing over half-destroyed arches, sometimes freezing and hiding in secluded niches. It was unbearably hard for him, but the boy understood he had to make it to the end. He hated these rules, this hunt, and this world with all his soul.

After what seemed like an eternity to the children, the ducklings finally met at the foot of the beacon—a tall, slender tower emitting a pulsating blue light. A weak, exhausted smile of relief appeared on each face for a moment: they were alive. All that remained was to activate the system. Together, they fought off the last attacking shining creatures and finally launched the evacuation protocol.

The children were met with deafening, joyful cries and blinding camera flashes. It seemed the entire Continent of Evil had gathered here to greet the tired, frightened, and devastated children.

"The first team has activated the beacon!" the commentator triumphantly shouted.

Accompaniers in uniform immediately invited the ducklings to a separate room. The wary Balcoms silently followed them, unable to bear the admiring glances of the crowd any longer.

The room was brighter, quieter, and cozier. Large mirrors hung opposite. Each duckling mechanically approached them and froze in horror. Their clothes were covered not only in their own blood but also in gold. Their eyes, ringed with dark circles, were full of emptiness and unhealed shock. The boys barely held back approaching tears, but the younger one couldn't take it. She fell to her knees and began to sob loudly and hysterically, while her brothers tried to comfort her. They felt unbearably bad themselves, but they tried to be strong for their sister. The ducklings' bodies ached from both wounds and a strange internal numbness, as if a part of themselves had been irrevocably scooped out.

Glancing in the mirror one more time, Louie covered his beak with his hand and ran to the restroom, where he finally threw up. He had held on with all his might throughout the hunt to avoid doing it right on the field.

A couple of minutes later, their father entered. A self-satisfied smile shone on his face, but the children were not up to it. They were exhausted, drained, and morally crushed.

"Excellent work! I knew you'd activate the beacon, but to be first... And to collect so many essences! I am infinitely proud of you! Your pendants are simply bursting with power now!"

The children silently looked at him with extinguished, sad eyes. The calm, almost triumphant tone of their father confused and hurt them even more.

"Alright, you need to pull yourselves together. Go take a shower," Derek said in a softer but still serious tone. The ducklings silently obeyed. Their father's voice was soothing, but after all they had been through, the heirs were scared.

Washing off the sticky, shimmering golden residue, Louie wept silently. The hot water washed away the blood but was powerless against the feeling of deep inner emptiness and all-consuming horror. Were the Ducks right? Had he really become a true villain? No, no, he wasn't like that! He didn't want this!

Finished, the ducklings came out into the room again. The guard silently showed them the way forward. The children walked, almost not thinking about where, moving on autopilot. Nothing mattered to them anymore. Hugging his own shoulders, Louie desperately wished for this nightmare to end soon.

The heirs were led to the main platform, where they saw other teams that had made it to the end. To the former Duck's surprise, there were quite a few of them. The Balcoms were again surrounded by journalists, bombarding them with questions.

"How would you describe your brilliant victory?" a microphone was shoved right in front of Louie's beak.

"Cool... I guess..." the green-eyed one answered quietly and absolutely indifferently, staring into space.

"So, our undisputed winners are Frederick, Ethan, Amanda Balcom!" the main host trumpeted. He gestured for the children to come to the microphone. Derek, encouraging them, was already standing nearby. He smiled proudly, looking at his children.

"Come on, don't be shy, tell the entire Continent of Evil how you feel at this great moment!" another host asked, easily pretending nothing terrible had happened.

"We, I don't..."

"None of us ever doubted for a second that we would be winners!" interrupting his stammering brother, Ethan lied loudly and confidently, forcing a smile.

"Y-yes, we trained very long and hard..." Amanda supported the twin mechanically, barely audibly, not raising her eyes.

Derek hugged his children. A grin didn't leave his face, while the ducklings lowered their eyes to the floor, unable to look at the jubilant crowds. This glory, these congratulations—none of it was for them. It was someone else's victory.

---

When the Balcoms finally reached their island, each of the heirs silently, without looking at each other, went to their room. Louie collapsed on the bed and covered his face with his hands. He was tormented by just one question: who was he now? The boy had saved villains from Aetherials but had appropriated someone else's essence for himself.

That night, none of the children closed their eyes. They were haunted by vivid, nightmarish memories of what had happened. They were simultaneously scared and disgusted by themselves, by that cold, alien, living-its-own-life force that now pulsed in their pendants, reminding them of what they had done.

Who would have thought that this hunt would not be the most terrible thing the heirs would have to experience in the future?

Chapter Text

After what happened, Louie tossed and turned in bed for a long time, unable to close his eyes. Horrible images frozen in golden dust, seen the day before, floated before him like on a screen. His hand still remembered the icy numbness of the magical bonds. Swallowing another sedative pill, the duckling finally felt a viscous wave of apathy washing over his consciousness, dulling his memory. The nightmares gradually receded, granting the heir a few hours of oblivion. Soon, overwhelming fatigue won, and Louie fell into a heavy, unnatural sleep.

But there was no peace there either. Now nightmares pursued the boy even in the world of dreams—golden, faceless shadows reached out to him, and the melodious, soulless voice sounded right in his ears. The green-eyed one couldn't take it for long and woke up with a quiet scream, covered in cold, sticky sweat, his heart pounding wildly.

The glowing clock dial showed barely two in the morning. "A wonderful time for sleep," Louie would have sarcastically replied to himself a couple of days ago, but now he felt absolute terror at the mere thought of closing his eyes again. Trembling, the young villain leaned against the cold wall, and treacherous, hot tears rolled down his beak. He spent that night in vain, staring into the darkness with wide-open eyes.

In the morning, Louie met the twins at breakfast. Their pale faces and dark circles under their eyes made it clear that similar nightmares had visited not only him. They silently poked at their plates, unable to swallow a single bite.

After the game, the children no longer felt alive. There was almost no sleep, so the ducklings looked lethargic, apathetic, incapable of any work. They spoke little, only to the point, in short, clipped phrases.

After several such sleepless nights, the older one, overcoming his own apathy, decided he had to cheer up his small family. The twins had become truly family to him, and Louie felt responsible. The heir had to do something for them. Now he was the big brother, which meant he had to help his "kids," just like Huey had once helped him. Taking his example, the boy decided to become the best support for the twins.

Louie definitely didn't want to do what he had planned, but he knew it was the only thing that could bring at least a shadow of a smile to the ducklings' faces, a smile the young villain hadn't seen for an eternity. Approaching the half-asleep, tired children, the heir sighed heavily, but it didn't attract their attention.

"I was thinking..." Louie began, forcing himself to sound cheerful, "Which of you still wants to try those famous hot dogs?"

The effect was instantaneous. Ethan and Amanda perked up as if electrocuted. They heard the cherished words. Due to constant pain and anxiety, the children had completely forgotten their dream.

"Really? We're going to Duckburg?" the girl squealed, and for the first time in a week, a real, lively spark flashed in her eyes.

"Yes," Louie nodded firmly, surprising himself with his determination, "I think we all need a change of scenery. It will help... distract us a bit."

"Do we need to disguise ourselves?" Ethan clarified, and a weak but still smile trembled on his beak. It seemed the mere possibility of an adventure temporarily pushed the nightmare into the background.

"No, only me. In Duckburg, no one knows what Black Army soldiers look like. But your... uniforms will have to be changed too. You'll have to wear something... ordinary."

The children exchanged glances, then their eyes fixed on Louie. The older one nodded his head encouragingly towards their rooms. Squeaking with sudden overwhelming happiness, the ducklings jumped up and ran to change. The former Duck snorted with relief, seeing his plan work. He went to his bedroom, where he pulled on a simple black hoodie. Finished, Louie sat down on the sofa in the common room, waiting for the children.

"How do I look?" came Amanda's voice from behind. The heir turned and froze with his beak open. The younger sister was dressed all in pink. So bright, acid pink that it hurt the older one's eyes.

"Well... um... why pink?" Louie forced out, trying to be tactful.

"What? It's the world of good there, I wanted to fit in!" the girl explained joyfully, spinning in front of the older one.

"I wouldn't announce that so loudly... Duckburg is hardly a 'world of good.' And with that look, you'll only attract unwanted attention, like a neon sign."

"Oh," Amanda was upset, "Then I don't know what to wear."

At that second, Ethan emerged from his room, dressed in an expensive, perfectly fitting jacket. He proudly strutted around the room as if on a catwalk. Louie just rolled his eyes.

"Don't say anything, I know. I look impeccable! Let everyone see that a person of high society has arrived in the city!"

"Rich people don't eat fast food in diners!" the older one objected, "You'll attract even more attention than Amanda."

"Well, I don't know. Is food for rich people that tasteless synthetic stuff?" Ethan snorted, skeptically crossing his arms.

"Okay, I'll choose everything for you myself," Louie sighed resignedly, getting up from the sofa, "Show me what you have in your wardrobe. We'll find something suitable."

First, the trio went into Amanda's room. The older one, rummaging through the closet, picked out a modest but cute outfit for her: a long purple hoodie and a dark blue skirt. For Ethan, he found a simple dark green sweater.

"The jacket was much cooler!" the younger brother grumbled, reluctantly accepting the clothes.

"Are you going to a fashion show or just to eat?" Louie retorted tiredly.

"I like it!" Amanda exclaimed, already pulling on the hoodie, "We'll be like real locals! Tell me, in Duckburg, to pay for something, do you really have to hug?" she clarified as the trio headed to the landing pad.

"What? No!" Louie almost choked, "Duckburg isn't as friendly as you think. I'll pay. With money. Regular money."

In the transport, the heirs used autopilot, acting quickly and stealthily. They were convinced Derek would never allow them this adventure.

"The fact that you're dressed all in black won't hide your appearance," Ethan remarked slyly, examining his brother.

"You're right," Louie agreed, "But what if we do this?" the boy, with a cunning grin, pulled the hood deep over his forehead and put on large dark glasses.

"Oh, yes, that changes a lot..." Ethan drawled with exaggerated sarcasm.

"Come on, it should work!" Amanda supported the older one, trying to be an optimist.

---

The flight didn't take as long as the twins expected, and soon the ducklings were walking the streets of the painfully familiar city to Louie. For him, this "trip" was strange and anxious; every corner reminded him of his past life. But, looking at the enchanted, shining faces of the children, the boy pushed away the gloomy thoughts. The younger ones kept breaking ahead, examining shop windows, unusual signs, and buildings. Sometimes Louie had to literally pull them back by the hand, as the townspeople began to cast astonished glances at the strange trio.

"Wait! It's so beautiful here!" Amanda squealed when the older one dragged her along again.

"Agree! Just look at this sun! It's the best thing I've ever seen in my life!" Ethan supported his sister with genuine delight.

"We don't have time for this," Louie said firmly but without malice, "And please, try to behave... inconspicuously. We're already attracting too much attention."

"Where are we going anyway?" Amanda clarified, finally listening to her brother.

"How about Funso's?" Louie suggested, smiling at the younger one.

"Sounds exciting! But what is it?" the twins asked in unison.

"An arcade. There's fast food, rides, and game machines. You should like it!"

"Great!" the children rejoiced, their eyes sparkling with excitement.

Louie momentarily remembered how he and his brothers had blown Uncle Donald's pocket money on these same machines and mountains of junk food. Had the drake himself been thrilled about it? Unlikely. But he never deprived the triplets of this little fun, happy that his nephews were spending time together.

"Here we are!" Louie announced proudly, stopping in front of the colorful, noisy building. Ethan and Amanda looked at it, and their eyes filled with such delight that it seemed sparks would fly. Louie couldn't help but smile. He had long realized that the twins were just children forced to hide their true selves behind masks of stern heirs. Their jokes might sometimes be sharp, but now there was no former malice in them.

Entering Funso's, the young villains were in complete ecstasy. Amanda immediately, like a puppy, rushed forward towards the sounds of the arcade machines, and Ethan, his eyes gleaming, slipped through the crowd towards where the appetizing smell of food was coming from. This was not part of the older one's plan at all.

"Amanda! Ethan! Stop!" Louie shouted, trying to push through the crowd of children. But it was too late. The twins had dissolved in this sea. Deciding to find his brother first, Louie swam against the current.

Ethan was importantly examining the rows of arcade machines, already assessing which one to invest the first coin in. But Louie grabbed his hand.

"Hey, what is it?" the younger one objected.

"I asked you not to run off! We'll come back to the games later, now we need to find Amanda!"

Together, the ducklings went searching and soon found their sister in a nook where a young musician was performing. She, mesmerized, watched the boy deftly pluck the strings of his guitar. The older brother gently but insistently led her away, and finally all three sat down at a free table.

"So, what would you like?" Louie asked, handing his brother and sister a colorful menu.

"Everything that's here!" Amanda blurted out without thinking.

"Half of that wouldn't physically fit in you," the older one laughed softly.

"I'll have pizza!" Ethan declared confidently, poking his finger at the picture.

"Great, and I'll take the fries and that famous hot dog!" Amanda decided, her eyes shining with anticipation.

Hearing the orders, Louie nodded.

"Okay, I'll catch a waiter now."

The wait became real torture for the twins. The sweetish, appetizing smell of fried oil and spices drove them crazy, fueling impatience. But, as if on purpose, their order kept not coming.

"Ugh, when will it be already?" Amanda drawled with anguish, slumping helplessly on the tabletop.

"Patience, it's still being prepared, sweetie," Louie soothed his sister. He liked this new feeling—being the support, the big brother, even though it was sometimes too hard.

"This is unacceptable! We are the children of the greatest villain of all time! Why don't we get first-class service?" Ethan was indignant, watching as trays of food were carried past them to other tables.

"Because no one should know who we are!" Louie hissed, throwing a warning glance at his brother, which the latter, however, didn't see because of the dark glasses.

"Ah, yes... You're right," Ethan muttered sheepishly.

Suddenly, a bright ping-pong ball hit their table with a ringing clatter, making all three jump. Amanda jumped in place from surprise. The children turned in unison towards the source of the noise, and Louie's heart clenched into an icy lump. His breath caught.

"Oh, no, no, no," the green-eyed one whispered, instinctively pulling his hood even lower and turning away. The twins instantly understood—his triplets, his brothers, were approaching them.

"Oh, sorry, please! I didn't mean to!" Dewey said in a guilty tone, running up to their table. Huey and Webby followed him, looking tired but tense.

"I told you not to play ball indoors!" Huey scolded his triplet, "What if you hit someone in the face!"

"Are you all right?" Webby asked concernedly, addressing the trio of Balcoms. Her gaze was full of sincere sympathy.

"Yeah-yeah, everything's fine!" the young villains answered almost in unison, with unnatural cheerfulness.

"I'm Dewey, and this is my brother Huey and our friend Webby," the culprit of the incident introduced himself.

"Nice... to meet you," Louie forced out with difficulty, feeling Amanda elbowing him in the side.

"Your voice! Change your voice, they'll recognize you!" she hissed through her teeth.

"And what are your names?" Webby asked with a kind smile, always happy to meet new people.

"I'm Ethan," the younger brother responded quickly, "and this is my sister Amanda and our... um... older brother, Frederick."

"And why are you wearing such dark glasses?" Dewey asked with sly curiosity, peering at the disguised figure, "You can't see anything in them!"

"I... recently had eye surgery," Louie began to stammer, feeling goosebumps running down his back, "The light is now... too bright and unpleasant for them."

"Nice to meet you!" Huey smiled, "I haven't seen you around here before."

The red duckling glanced at the twins' bright eyes. He frowned, as if suspecting something.

"We're not here for long," Ethan interjected quickly, seeing Louie's confusion, "We just came to relax in Duckburg. Heard the food here is great," the boy lied only half, and Louie was immensely grateful for this quick thinking.

"Cool... Hmm, did you know you look exactly like an acquaintance of ours?" Dewey chuckled, examining Louie.

The green duckling under the hood instinctively shrank.

"And... like whom?" the young villain squeaked, trying to distort his voice beyond recognition.

"Yeah, you're right, Dewey," Huey picked up, looking at the children more closely, "The behavior, the eyes... Sorry, you remind us a lot of our younger brother."

"Younger?!" the twins exhaled in unison, unable to contain themselves. Louie threw them a reproachful look but again covered his face with his hand to avoid looking at his former family.

"Sorry, but I am, after all, the eldest in the family," the green duckling said with feigned dignity, "And besides, I don't know you."

"Yeah, he's right," Webby agreed with slight sadness, "Louie... is different."

"In what way 'different'?" Amanda persisted, the twins' eyes burning with curiosity.

"Doesn't matter, there are just differences," the girl answered evasively.

Ethan giggled quietly, but catching the older brother's stern look, he abruptly turned the laughter into a coughing fit.

"Yeah, and now he's off who knows where!" the blue duckling grumbled, crossing his arms with an offended look.

"Dewey, enough!" Huey said warningly.

"What?" the Balcoms asked, making surprised faces.

"Louie... He... ran away from us," Webby exhaled quietly, sadly, lowering her eyes.

For a moment, the young villain genuinely felt sorry for her, but then Dewey spoke again.

"His own fault! And now we have to search for him all over the world!" the boy exclaimed, and his voice sounded angry and loud.

Louie's breath caught. Fear instantly gave way to resentment and anger.

"Maybe he had good reasons!" the runaway couldn't hold back, and his voice broke into its familiar timbre for a second. It hurt to hear this.

"He hurt everyone! Especially our mom! And just ran away like a total coward! Thinks he's so special!"

"Dewey, stop it!" Huey ordered sternly.

Amanda, meanwhile, tried to hold her older brother's hand, feeling him tense up.

"People don't do that without serious reasons!" Louie argued heatedly.

"Fred, calm down!" Ethan whispered fearfully, understanding they were about to be exposed.

"Okay, we have to go," Webby said hastily with an awkward smile, taking Dewey's hand, "It was nice to meet you! Hope to see you again!"

Huey, nodding goodbye, led the grumbling triplet away.

"I hope you find your brother!" Amanda unexpectedly called after them. The boys looked at her in shock.

"What?" Ethan asked indignantly.

"Well, what? That way we look less suspicious. Probably..."

"Ugh, that was awful," Louie leaned back in his chair, feeling the trembling gradually subside, "I didn't think they... that they blame me for everything. Although... I'm guilty too, of course, but to such an extent..."

"It went better than it could have," Ethan tried to cheer up his brother, forcing a smile, "We weren't exposed, after all."

At that very moment, a waiter finally approached their table with a large tray full of food.

"Well, that's great. Dig in," Louie said with relief, arranging the plates.

At first, the twins ate slowly and cautiously, warily tasting the unfamiliar food. But after the first few bites, their doubts evaporated. They began to devour the food as if it were divine ambrosia, not simple fast food. Their eyes widened with delight.

"Ha-ha, calm down, don't choke," Louie laughed, watching the great heirs of the Continent of Evil fight over a piece of pizza.

"This is incredibly delicious!" they exhaled almost in sync, their mouths full.

Louie took a bite of his burger, and the long-forgotten taste caused a wave of nostalgia. All the food on the Continent of Evil was tasteless, like cardboard. In that moment, he returned to those days when he was part of a noisy, loving family.

"I knew the food here was different, but to this extent!" Ethan stated with reverence, finishing the last pizza crust.

"Agree one hundred percent! Can we take something to go? You still have money, right?" Amanda asked hopefully, looking at her brother with big eyes.

"We are the children of the Lord of Darkness himself," Louie proclaimed with some pride, pulling out his wallet, "Of course, I have money!"

The duckling mentally repeated this loud name that everyone called his father. It still grated on his ears and seemed inappropriate for Derek, but now the boy used it as a shield.

After the meal, loaded with bags of takeout food, the ducklings decided to return. It was already getting dark, and the risk of exposing their adventure grew with every minute.

In the plane, Amanda, beaming, approached her brother.

"So, you are the youngest after all?" the girl asked with a sly smile.

"Well, yeah," Louie sighed, already anticipating where this was leading, "Huey and Dewey are a few minutes older than me."

"Ha-ha-ha! Baby Louie!" the twins laughed in unison, pointing their fingers at him.

"But I'm still older than you!" the duckling tried to preserve the remnants of his dignity, though he was already starting to smile himself.

"Of course, of course, sorry..."

Chapter Text

Even a month after Louie's departure, a oppressive, heavy atmosphere hung over Scrooge McDuck's mansion, as if the air had filled with lead dust. The cheerful chaos that once reigned here had been replaced by a ringing, frightening silence, broken only by muffled footsteps and whispers.

Every inhabitant of the house carried a burden of guilt, sifting through the memories of the last days before the escape in search of that fatal mistake that had provoked the runaway. Laughter, which once echoed through these walls, now seemed like inappropriate blasphemy. Everyone spoke in hushed tones, their voices sounding flat and colorless, and any accidental phrase inevitably returned to the single, painful topic.

Without their younger brother, Huey and Dewey felt incomplete, as if a part of themselves had been torn away. At night, muffled sobs came from their room, and then the one who was slightly stronger that night would approach the triplet's bed to silently hug his shoulders. The worst part was the complete uncertainty. There was no letter, no hint, no news from Louie. The ducklings couldn't know for sure if their brother was still breathing somewhere under this same sky.

Webby did her best to be a support for her friends, to be the anchor that kept them from completely falling into despair. It was unbearably hard for her too. She had only known Louie for a couple of years, but in that time she had become deeply attached to his witty jokes, infectious laughter, and that special spark that burned in his eyes when the boy was hatching another scheme.

To distract themselves somehow, the children tried to play board games. But these attempts often resulted in new pain. Every roll of the dice, every game piece on the board evoked memories: "Louie would have taken a different path last time," "He'd definitely cheat right now," "Remember how he made everyone laugh with his move that time?" The game would freeze, and the mood would hopelessly plummet into an abyss.

Every day, the Duck family made new attempts to find any clue. Scrooge spared no expense, placing missing person ads on the front pages of all newspapers and in every news broadcast. Soon, the entire country knew about the missing duckling, but this only spawned a wave of fraudsters. There were those who, hiding behind sympathy, extorted money from the desperate family; false "witnesses" pointed to non-existent addresses. Della personally checked every such lead, and each time her heart shattered into a hundred new pieces when the deception was revealed. She clung only to the faint hope that her son was alive and not somewhere wounded and alone.

Della had memorized the text of that ill-fated note. The piece of paper left by Louie had become her main torment and only comfort. She reread the letter in the morning, getting out of bed, and in the evening, before trying to sleep. The paper was swollen from endless maternal tears.

The girl, who had spent long years separated from her sons, had now lost one of them again. Scrooge, seeing her suffering, tried to find words of comfort, but they all seemed empty and useless in the face of such grief. Della cried often and bitterly, and her quiet sobs, coming from behind the bedroom door, were worse than any scream.

Donald, who always relied on action rather than words, supported his sister with silent strength. He hugged her in the evenings when the adventurer's shoulders began to shake again from silent tears. He had raised the triplets since birth and loved them as his own, and the pain of losing one of them was almost as sharp for him.

"Where could he have gone?" burst out from the girl again and again, like a broken record, as she clutched the fateful note in her trembling fingers.

"Della, dear, sit down, have some tea," Scrooge coaxed her softly, pushing a cup towards her, "We'll find him. I won't spare a single cent."

"What if he's in trouble?" Della's voice dropped to a whisper full of horror, "What if he's lying somewhere wounded? Or... or worse..." she couldn't finish, and a new wave of sobs overwhelmed her. Donald silently hugged the girl tighter.

"He'll be fine! It's Louie," the drake tried to convince himself more than his sister, "He's cunning as a fox, always could wriggle out of the toughest situation."

"Yes, he reminds me of... him..." Scrooge inadvertently let slip and immediately regretted it when he saw his niece's face contort with old pain. Her breath caught.

"No! Derek is a crazy murderer! Louie isn't like that!" Della cried out, and tears streamed down with renewed force. The comparison itself was a knife to her heart.

"No, no, that's not what I meant!" Scrooge hurried to correct himself, catching Donald's warning glance.

"Uncle Scrooge meant that Louie, like his... father, has a strong character and the ability to survive," Donald explained, struggling to find the words. Saying anything positive about Derek was torture for him, but he saw how these words slightly calmed Della.

The thought of her former fiancé made the girl nauseous. She bitterly remembered how she had once defended him to her brother and uncle, how blindly she had believed in his good nature. Back then, she didn't yet know the full depth of his fall.

The only bright legacy from Derek, everyone in the family considered, was the arrival of the triplets. The news of the pregnancy initially shocked and frightened Della, but her family's support helped her accept and love her sons with all her heart. And in each of them, she recognized her father's traits with trepidation and horror. But Louie... Louie was special. He had the same cunning, the same stubborn determination, the same eyes.

Sometimes Della caught a smirk or a bright glance on her youngest son's face that painfully reminded her of Derek, and her heart clenched with a terrible premonition. The thought that Louie might follow in his father's footsteps shattered her soul to pieces. Over the years, Donald and Scrooge had also seen these alarming similarities, but, like Della, they loved Louie with all their hearts and hoped until the last that his good nature would prevail.

---

The ducklings, however, had their own secret methods of searching. After sifting through mountains of magical encyclopedias and ancient books from Scrooge's library, they looked for mentions of lost artifacts.

"Here! Look! This compass is supposed to point the way to any living being!" Webby exclaimed, pointing a hopeful finger at a yellowed page.

"Hmm, but it says here that for it to work, you need a personal belonging of the person you're looking for, or... a drop of their blood," Huey remarked gloomily, closing the book in disappointment. They had neither.

"And are we just going to keep wasting time on this useless junk?" Dewey said with sudden bitterness in his voice. The children exchanged puzzled glances.

"What? We need any help we can get!" Huey replied anxiously.

The blue duckling just rolled his eyes irritably and snorted.

"What's the point? We've tried everything already."

"Dewey, what's wrong with you? What are you talking about?" Webby grew wary.

"We've read tons of these books! Do you think another dusty artifact will help?" Dewey sharply crossed his arms over his chest and flopped onto the bed, staring at the floor.

"We can't just sit around doing nothing!" Huey objected, not understanding this sudden change.

"If Louie wanted to be found, he would have let us know by now!"

"What if he's in trouble and can't?" Webby's voice trembled with emotion.

Both ducklings looked at Dewey with confusion and hurt. Seeing their faces, he sighed heavily and decided to explain.

"I'm sure he's not. Louie has only himself to blame. We didn't kick him out. If you recall, he started this feud! He abandoned us! He had no right to treat Mom like that!" Dewey's voice broke, "You thought so too at first! So why are we still trying? Mom cries every day, and he apparently doesn't care! Do you think anything bothers him besides his own benefit? Ha! It's Louie!"

Webby and Huey were speechless with shock. They exchanged helpless glances, unable to find the words.

"He's your brother! Your own brother!" finally burst out from Huey. He was seized by rage—not so much at Louie, but at Dewey for these cruel words. However guilty the younger one was, family should stick together.

"Dewey, you can't say that," Webby said quietly but firmly, "No matter what Louie did, we have to try to understand him. Maybe he's grieving and afraid to come back now?"

"Ugh, I see how everyone is suffering! If we just accept this, it'll be easier for everyone! He could come back anytime, but he doesn't! Not because he's afraid, but because he doesn't need us! It's time to admit it!"

"What's gotten into you? You were sitting with these books yourself just yesterday!" Huey lost his temper. Yes, Louie had acted terribly, but he was their blood, their triplet.

"It's been a month already! It's pointless! His leaving has only caused problems! Even if Louie comes back, I won't forgive him for this!" Dewey blurted out, and tears glistened in his eyes. He missed his brother terribly, but the sight of his suffering mother tormented him even more. This pain bred anger in him.

"Dewey, you don't really think that..."

"Yeah, yeah, you'll understand soon enough!" Dewey sharply interrupted his friend, jumped up, and ran out of the room, slamming the door.

---

After the confrontation at Funso's, the ducklings returned home in oppressive silence, each digesting what had happened. Dewey walked ahead, immersed in his gloomy thoughts, while Huey and Webby tried to get through to him.

"What if they don't want to come back here now because of you? We don't even know them, and you were already rude!" Webby chastised her friend.

"Good! That guy with the glasses shouldn't have stuck his nose where it didn't belong! They're not our family!" Dewey snapped.

"Stop it, they were right," Huey said tiredly, "And that guy... he really did remind me of Louie a bit. His mannerisms, maybe..."

"Maybe we should invite them over?" Webby suddenly suggested as the ducklings approached the mansion, "That way we can get to know them better."

"Yeah, great idea!" Huey supported, hope flashing in his eyes.

"Uh-huh..." Dewey grunted, pretending to agree, and quickly headed for the front door, not wanting to see anyone else.

Huey and Webby, without thinking twice, ran back to Funso's. But upon returning, they found no one there. The strangers had disappeared. Deep disappointment gripped their hearts.

"We should have suggested it right away..." Webby whispered sadly.

Huey nodded silently. A strange feeling wouldn't leave him—something about that disguised duckling was painfully familiar.

"It's okay," the Junior Woodchuck sighed, "They probably wouldn't have agreed anyway. Maybe we'll meet again."

"I hope so..."

Meanwhile, Dewey, going up to his room, took an old, tattered photo album from the shelf. The duckling flipped through the pages, looking at pictures of the three of them together: him, Huey, and Louie—the inseparable trio. Treacherous tears slowly rolled down his cheeks. Yes, the boy was angry with his brother, but this anger was just the other side of insane longing. Quietly, so no one would hear, he whispered: "Come back, just come back..."

Deciding to find something to do, Dewey left his room. Passing by Scrooge's office, he froze, hearing snippets of an agitated conversation and a familiar name.

"If Louie is really there, we need to get him back immediately!" That was Scrooge's voice, sounding unusually serious.

"Easier said than done, Uncle Scrooge!" Donald objected, "All routes there are either forgotten or heavily guarded."

"We need to find a way! And as soon as possible!" Della said in a trembling voice, "If he's with... with him... Louie is in danger..."

Dewey, hearing this, felt the ground disappear from under his feet. The blood drained from his face, his fingers turned cold. He shot out from behind the door and rushed to his room, where a worried Huey and Webby were already waiting.

"G-guys... Louie... he's in trouble!" Dewey exhaled, out of breath.

"Oh, and this is coming from the one who recently suggested we 'accept it'?" Huey remarked sarcastically but immediately fell silent when he saw the horror on his brother's face.

"I'm not joking! I overheard the adults talking! They said Louie is in terrible danger if he's there!"

The three ducklings froze; an icy chill ran down their spines. Their heartbeats quickened.

"There? What does 'there' mean?" Webby whispered fearfully.

"I don't know! But it sounded... creepy!"

"Then let's ask them directly!" Huey suggested.

"They won't tell us anything! They never tell us anything!" Dewey exclaimed with desperation in his voice.

"Unfortunately, you're right," Huey agreed grimly with his triplet.

"What should we do?" Webby asked in despair.

"We'll watch them," Huey declared firmly, "We'll listen. Sooner or later, they'll let something slip."

The others nodded silently; a glimmer of determination appeared in their eyes.

For practically all the following days, the children stayed near the adults, lingering in the living room or office under any pretext. But, as if on purpose, the adults became incredibly careful with their words. The topic of Louie was carefully avoided. Della, unknowingly, tried to cheer up the ducklings by offering ice cream or walks, but the only thing that could truly comfort the children was the truth that was being so stubbornly hidden from them.

The adults, in turn, couldn't bring themselves to tell the children the truth about Derek. They were afraid that knowing their real father was a powerful villain would break the children. It was too heavy a burden for young shoulders.

Despairing of getting honesty, the children began their own investigation. They tried to piece together fragments of phrases, hints, meaningful glances from the adults. But the mystery that Della, Donald, and Scrooge were hiding was a tough nut to crack. Besides those frightening words Dewey had overheard, there were no clues.

"Maybe we should just ask Mom?" Dewey suddenly suggested, "It can't get any worse."

"She won't tell us. And if they suspect anything, they'll hide everything even more carefully," Huey said with sad certainty.

"As if we're too little to be allowed to know anything! They always have their secrets!" Dewey snorted with bitter resentment.

"Someday they'll tell us everything," Webby tried to comfort everyone, but it sounded unconvincing.

"Yeah, in about ten years! Or better yet, twenty!" Dewey exclaimed gloomily.

The ducklings sighed heavily. They missed their brother, felt that trouble was brewing over him, but were powerless to help. All that remained was to blindly hope that everything would work out and Louie would return to them safe and sound. But that hope grew more ghostly with each passing day.

Chapter Text

Louie quietly pressed the button to lower the iron door, plunging the room into near-total darkness, and joined the twins sitting on the thick carpet in the center of the common hall. The ghostly light from a couple of candles, fixed in massive candelabras, cast giant, dancing shadows on the walls, barely illuminating the pages of the diary Amanda held on her lap. The girl, hunched over the yellowed pages, was intently studying her mother's notes. Louie silently watched her, watching her brow furrow in the flame's light, and gathered the courage to ask.

"Are you sure that's..."

"Shh!" Amanda sharply interrupted the older one without even looking up from the book. Her fingers traced the strange symbols. Louie obediently shrugged and turned his gaze to Ethan. He was sitting with his legs tucked under him, tensely watching his sister, nervously fiddling with the fringe of the carpet.

Noticing his brother's gaze, Ethan abruptly stopped and tried to look carefree, but only managed an uncertain, strained smile. Louie grinned back and stared at Amanda again. She was feverishly turning page after page, muttering something under her breath.

"Here! I think I found it!" the younger one exclaimed, but immediately caught herself, replacing her excitement with a serious, almost solemn expression. The brothers moved closer, peering over her shoulder.

"'The Magic of Death and the Return of Essence'... Sounds promising," Louie read aloud skeptically.

"Don't take the name literally," Ethan said quietly, as if afraid to scare away the silence, "Just remember where we got this power from..."

Louie found no answer and just sighed heavily, feeling a cold lump in his stomach.

"Did everyone bring their pendants?" Amanda asked matter-of-factly, giving the brothers a stern look.

Ethan and Louie silently pulled out the metal amulets, warm from their bodies, from under their clothes. In all the time since the hunt, the ducklings had hardly dared to touch them, and now the pendants lay in their palms like hot coals. The children weren't afraid of mixing them up: each had its own color. Louie's stone was dark green, swampy, which didn't surprise the boy. Amanda's was a deep purple, and Ethan's was bright orange, like flame.

"Ready?" Amanda's voice trembled, betraying her own fear. The brothers silently, almost mechanically, nodded.

Following the girl's instructions, the ducklings joined hands, forming a tight circle. Their palms were cold and slightly damp. Amanda began reciting a spell in an ancient language unfamiliar to Louie. The words sounded alien and sinister; the girl became focused and detached. After repeating the incomprehensible phrase three times, she closed her eyes, continuing to mumble the text from memory. The boys exchanged glances, their faces showing complete confusion and growing anxiety.

On the fourth repetition, a sudden, icy breeze rose in the room, which seemed frozen in anticipation, making the candle flames flicker and tossing the ducklings' hair. The candles hissed and went out simultaneously, plunging the room into pitch blackness. The children gasped in fright, but a strange glow now emanating from themselves allowed them to vaguely make out each other's outlines.

Amanda fell silent. In the ensuing silence, only their rapid breathing was audible. The younger one was waiting for something. Louie was about to ask if it was over when suddenly the pendants around their necks flashed with a blindingly bright, almost white light, forcing all three to squeeze their eyes shut in pain. A dry, sharp crack sounded—like bones breaking. The amulets shattered.

And then agony washed over the ducklings in a wave. It wasn't physical pain, but something worse—a feeling as if something living and alien was being torn out from their very core, from the depths of their souls. The very essences of the Aetherials they had captured and absorbed passed through them, now being forcibly expelled. The process lasted only a few seconds, but each one felt like an eternity. Hot, involuntary tears streamed down Louie's cheeks, but he had no strength to scream—only a silent, convulsive groan.

When the ducklings could open their eyes again, their pupils flashed with a bright green, unnatural light for a moment, illuminating their faces from within with an eerie glow.

The next moment, an invisible force threw all three apart. The candles relit by themselves, their flames now burning steadily and calmly. The ducklings lay unable to move, their bodies pierced by a deep, exhausting ache.

"That was... horrible..." Ethan exhaled with difficulty, trying to catch his breath.

"I knew it would be unpleasant, but not to this extent..." Amanda whispered, looking at her brothers with wide eyes.

Louie strained to raise his hand and touched his chest. The pendant crumbled into fine, lifeless dust in his fingers.

"I take it... something did happen," the older one stated hollowly.

"I hope it was worth it," Ethan groaned, not even wanting to think about repeating that nightmare.

With great difficulty, helping each other, the heirs rose to their trembling, weak legs. The sensation was as if an electric current had been passed through them.

"Here, take this," hiding his own trembling, Ethan handed Amanda and Louie each a small vial of a cloudy, dark liquid, "Always carry it with you."

"If you feel your mind starting to drift, that your thoughts are becoming alien... drink it without thinking," Amanda added, though the brothers already knew the purpose of this potion.

The twins had already told Louie about the "evil persona"—the dark double that would now pursue him. Louie awaited meeting his own with fear and strange curiosity, but the main rule was memorized: under no circumstances should he yield to its influence or allow it to take over his body.

"So... we have magic now?" Louie felt a strange mixture of fear, emptiness, and interest, "What can I do now?"

"I'll show you now!" Ethan scanned the room for an object. His gaze fell on a forgotten soda can brought from Duckburg. The boy concentrated, closed his eyes, stretched his hand forward. He strained, but the can only jerked and lifted slightly off the floor. Ethan grunted with effort.

"Impressive," Louie couldn't resist sarcasm.

Suddenly, the can jerked, shot into the air, and exploded with a deafening pop, dousing all three in sticky, fizzing soda.

"Oops... a little mistake... I meant to hand it over," Ethan muttered sheepishly, looking at himself, his brother, and sister. They stood covered in droplets, their clothes soaked through with sweet water. Their reproachful looks spoke for themselves.

"Well done, brother," Amanda sneered, shaking the sticky splashes off her hands in disgust, "A real ceremonial fountain."

"And... will it always be like this?" Louie asked in horror, imagining a future full of unpredictable explosions.

"No, of course not!" Amanda snorted, "Magic is a tool. You need to learn to control it, like a muscle. But remember: every time you use it, you feed your evil persona. The risk increases. So—only in case of extreme necessity! And now," she wiped her face with dignity, "I'm going to wash off this sticky horror."

The boys exchanged glances and followed her example.

Louie entered his bedroom. He reached for a towel in the closet, and an old photograph silently slipped out from behind it and fell to the floor. The duckling didn't notice and headed to the bathroom. He mentally thanked fate for personal space. On the Continent of Evil, he didn't have to fight for the shower with his brothers like in the old days at Scrooge's mansion or on Uncle Donald's houseboat.

Returning, Louie stepped on something papery. That same photograph. Louie picked it up. In the picture, he, Huey, and Dewey were laughing, hugging, with the rest of the family nearby. A shadow of pain crossed the boy's face. Old feelings washed over him with renewed force. He sharply, almost threw the photo back into the closet and slammed the door, as if trying to lock away the past. Thoughts of confessing to the Ducks visited the child, but the memory of Dewey's angry words at Funso's made him push them away.

Entering the hall, Louie discovered that the sticky puddles of soda covered not only the ducklings but also the floor and part of the wall. With a heavy sigh, he set about cleaning up. When the work was done and the twins emerged, clean and tired, Louie suggested finishing the fast food brought from Duckburg. The idea was met with enthusiasm. The children settled on the sofa, and several hours flew by in light conversation, deliberately avoiding topics of magic, the game, and the anxious future. They laughed, and for a while it seemed the heavy stone on their souls had shifted.

---

That night, Louie had a strange, restless dream. He was wandering through a dark, silent forest where the wind howled long and mournfully. The boy walked forward, seeing no goal, hoping only to wake up.

Suddenly, the ground gave way beneath his feet, and Louie fell into a black, cold abyss with a cry of horror. He landed on his back, squeezing his eyes shut from the pain. Getting up, the heir looked around. Darkness reigned everywhere, but the outlines of the room were painfully familiar.

"Is this... my old room?" the duckling whispered, and icy fear gripped him. Everything was in its place, but the setting was lifeless and frighteningly lonely.

"Almost," a voice sounded behind him.

Louie turned sharply. He was standing face to face with himself. But not the real one. This one was dressed in a perfectly fitted Black Army soldier's uniform, and his eyes burned with a cold, confident green fire. A sinister, smug grin played on his face.

"W-who are you?"

"I am you!" the double retorted, his smirk widening, "The one you were meant to become."

"Wait... You... that evil persona? The one Amanda talked about?" Louie's voice trembled, but at the same time, the boy was terribly curious.

"You can call me Fred. I am the true face of Frederick Balcom!"

"But that's not true!" Louie tried to object.

"You are a spineless weakling. A nobody unworthy of the Balcom name. You disgrace our family!"

"Not true!" Louie shouted, feeling anger boiling in him, mixed with fear, "I won't let you take my body! Never!"

Fred stepped forward sharply, grabbed Louie's arm forcefully, and pulled him so close that their beaks almost touched. His face was contorted with a grimace of hatred.

"We are one, fool. You will make a mistake, you will weaken, and I will not miss my chance. Your life will turn into hell. You will fear every step you take, every thought, you will tremble for your new 'darlings.' You know why?" the double hissed these words right in Louie's face, "Because if I kill someone you love, my power will increase a hundredfold! Their soul will become a feast for me! The medicine you drink is only a temporary measure. It won't save you, Llewellyn!"

The evil persona shoved Louie away forcefully, and he fell to the floor. Fred burst into a soul-chilling, loud laugh. Louie stared at him. His breath hitched; he couldn't respond, just looked at the double's smug grin.

The boy woke up with a sharp gasp, covered in cold sweat. The clock showed "2:00". He leaned against the cold wall, and sobs burst out again. That night, the duckling did not close his eyes again.

---

In the morning, the heirs went their separate ways. Louie, overcoming fatigue, entered the office where his advisor was already waiting.

"Hi, Em..." the green-eyed one's voice sounded lifeless.

The girl turned around, and her face immediately showed concern.

"Hi... You look awful. What happened?"

"Just didn't sleep well," Louie waved it off, trying to smile.

Emily looked at him with unconcealed worry. She saw how he had changed recently, how his former spark had dimmed.

"Fred," Emily sighed, pausing, "did you participate in 'Heroes and Death'?"

The duckling instantly flinched.

"Y-yes... Is it that obvious?"

"Everyone is talking about it. And you... you seem unlike yourself."

"Oh, it was a nightmare," Louie couldn't hold back; he desperately wanted to talk, "And now... now Fred is haunting me..."

The boy immediately regretted his words, fearing his friend's reaction. But instead of fright, he saw only bewilderment on her round face.

"Fred? But... that's you."

The heir hesitated, but realizing there was no turning back, gave in.

"I... I'm not entirely Fred. My real name is Louie. And Frederick... that's a cover. To be different from... from my past life."

"From your past life? But why? You are Mr. Balcom's son, right?" Emily was definitely confused.

"Yes, he's my father. And before, I lived in Duckburg. That's outside the Continent of Evil... But here... here is my place. And there, all they did was reproach me for not being like everyone else!" the child's voice grew quieter, "And now this Fred, this evil persona... he says he'll take my body, and I..."

Louie couldn't continue. Emily, without thinking, walked over and hugged him.

"Thank you for telling me... I'm so sorry..."

"Thank you," the boy took a deep breath, pulling away, "You're the best."

"I'll always be here if you need help. And... can I call you Louie? That name... it seems more real."

"Of course!" the duckling smiled sincerely, but remembering his "little plan," tried to pull himself together, "What were you doing?"

"Oh, nothing much... sorting papers. The boring work of an advisor," the girl smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

"I... I wanted to give you something," Louie reached into his pocket and pulled out a chocolate bar bought in Duckburg. His face flushed, "This is for you!"

Emily took the gift in surprise.

"Thank you... but why?"

"Just try it!" the green-eyed one insisted, turning away.

Emily, touched by the gesture, broke off a piece. When the chocolate melted in her mouth, her face changed. It showed surprise, then pure delight.

"Wow! This... this is incredible! What is it?"

"Chocolate. Real chocolate. Not like what they eat here."

"You've been outside the Continent?" her eyes widened with worry, "If your father found out..."

"I'd explain somehow," Louie waved it off, though he understood the risk himself, "The twins wanted to try something... real."

"It's truly wonderful!" the advisor hugged her friend again, and this time the hug was tight and long.

The children were interrupted by a call on Emily's bracelet. Her older brother Logan's stern face appeared on the screen.

"Emily, what are you doing?"

"Work stuff, as usual."

"I hope that Balcom is somewhere far away," the drake's voice sounded contemptuous.

Louie instinctively retreated into the shadows. He definitely didn't need problems right now. Emily frowned.

"He's not here right now."

"Remember what I told you," Logan added, softening, and the connection ended.

"Why does your family... well, why does almost everyone here hate me?" Louie asked bitterly.

"Not everyone. Raine and I are on your side," the girl winked, "Raine, my second brother, he's Amanda's advisor."

"Your whole family are advisors?" Louie smirked.

"Seems so. And yes, we... are a bit above regular soldiers. I don't like to boast, but I enjoy working with you."

"But why Logan... why does he treat me like that?" the child's voice became serious. Emily sighed.

"It's not about you personally, Louie. You're just... a Balcom. He hates your family."

"But why?"

"Do you know how soldiers usually end up in the armies?" Emily looked at her friend with sad eyes, "Three ways: be born into a military family, be kidnapped... or volunteer, undergoing a memory wipe procedure to eliminate the chance of betrayal."

"And you... how did you end up here?" Louie asked and immediately regretted it when he saw her face darken.

"There were five of us. Me, Logan, Raine, and our parents," the advisor's voice trembled, "One day, Black Army soldiers broke into our house. Father had old scores with them... They killed my parents. Killed them in front of us... I was only a year old, I don't remember, but Logan and Raine... they saw everything. The soldiers didn't expect to find children... They didn't kill us, but took us with them to raise as their fighters..."

Emily couldn't continue; her shoulders shook with silent sobs. Louie, shocked to the core, stood silently, but daring, hugged his friend, feeling goosebumps run down his own spine.

"Sorry... I didn't know..."

"You... you're not to blame..."

The heir sat the advisor on the sofa and sat down next to her, holding her hand in his. Soon the girl's breathing evened out, and from exhaustion and worry, she fell asleep, resting her head on his shoulder. Louie didn't wake her. A few minutes later, his own heavy eyelids closed.

---

The child had another nightmare. This time, he was wandering through the dark, lifeless corridors of the McDuck mansion. Everything was gray and frozen.

"Strange... it used to be so noisy here," Louie whispered and ran into the room he once shared with his brothers.

The duckling froze on the threshold. Huey, Dewey, and Webby stood in the center of the room, looking at him with empty, indifferent eyes. Louie's heart clenched with pain.

"Guys!" his voice broke, "I know I acted horribly, but I'm so glad to see you!"

The boy took a step forward, but the children, as if on command, pushed him away. He fell to the floor, looking at them in complete confusion.

"You... what? Okay, you're angry, I understand... but..."

"Does someone think we want to see this whiner?" Dewey's angry voice rang out.

"Do you really believe that after everything you've done, you have a place here?" Webby added coldly.

"You're a monster! Forget the way to this house!" Huey shouted.

A tear fell down Louie's cheek. He couldn't believe what was happening. The younger one tried to get up, but his brothers and friend advanced on him. In panic, the young villain retreated and bumped into someone. Turning around, he saw Scrooge, Donald, and Della. There wasn't a drop of pity in their eyes.

"You don't belong here!" Scrooge roared.

"You're not a Duck anymore!" Donald tossed out indifferently.

"Get out and don't come back!" Della's broken voice sounded.

A circle of his former family closed around the duckling, and a barrage of accusations fell upon him from all sides: "Murderer!", "Traitor!", "Villain!". Louie covered his face with his hands, curling into a ball from unbearable pain. Tears fell on the cold floor.

And suddenly everything fell silent. The boy found himself in an empty, dark room. He slowly lowered his hands from his wet eyes.

"Well, how did you like it?" a mocking voice sounded. Fred was sitting on his bed, smirking.

"Why did you do that?!" Louie screamed in rage.

"I just showed you your possible future. Plausible, don't you think? You believed it."

"You're a sick freak!" Louie was ready to lunge at the double.

"Calm down. Don't want to suffer? Give me your body. It'll be easier."

"Never!"

"Don't worry. Everything will change soon," Fred's voice sounded ominous. He laughed loudly and snapped his fingers.

Louie woke up from his own scream, jumping back on the sofa. His breath was ragged; tears streamed down his cheeks.

"Hey, are you okay? What happened?" Emily asked fearfully, already awake.

"Everything... everything's fine!" he tried to lie.

"Louie, I can see it's not! Is it him again? Fred?"

The green-eyed one silently nodded, pressing his hands to his temples.

"It's so stupid... to be afraid of your own dreams..."

"It's not stupid!" Emily took her friend's hand, "Everything will be okay."

The ducklings sat in silence until a call on Louie's bracelet interrupted it. He looked at the message and jumped up sharply. "Training. You're late."

"I have to go," the boy said a quick goodbye and shot out of the office.

Running into the training hall, the older one found Amanda, Ethan, and their father there. Louie tried to steady his breathing.

"Fred, just in time!" Derek said in his even, soft voice.

"Yes..." Louie muttered, approaching closer.

"So, how's the magic progress?" a spark of interest flashed in the drake's eyes.

Ethan decided to answer first.

"It's... there. But it's hard to control. I... exploded a soda can."

A flicker of slight agitation passed over Derek's face, but he immediately replaced it with an encouraging smile.

"Well, a start has been made. But you need to train hard!"

The ducklings exchanged anxious glances.

"But... Father," Amanda began timidly, "if we use magic, our evil personas will get stronger! They could take us over!"

Derek just smiled reassuringly.

"Don't worry, sweetie. Just remember to take your medicine," the villain handed his children several new pills, "And everything will be perfectly fine."

The ducklings reluctantly took the medicine. Louie caught a shadow of something elusive, some hidden calculation, on his father's face but dismissed the thought.

"Yes, Father," the chicks answered in chorus.

"Ah, yes, important business. Tomorrow you are going to a dinner party at the Blackwell mansion. You'll need to sign some documents. I'm leaving for a couple of days, so you can manage on your own?"

"Of course!" Ethan answered cheerfully. Amanda and Louie nodded silently.

"Excellent!" Derek turned and left.

"On the bright side: these dinners always have incredible food!" Ethan rejoiced as soon as the door closed.

"What makes you think that?" Louie frowned in surprise.

"The Blackwells pamper important guests! And finding someone more important than us on the Continent is no easy task!"

"So there is decent food here after all?"

"There is! But not for everyone. And only on special occasions."

"Like on Christmas?" Louie asked.

The twins stared at the older one in complete bewilderment.

"Christ... what?"

"Well, Christmas... a holiday at the end of December. Santa Claus brings presents..."

"Ah, you mean the Day of the Bloody Star?" Amanda clarified, "On the twenty-fifth of December, we give gifts to those we value. And bad children are taken by the evil spirit Krampus!"

Louie looked at them with mild shock.

"Well... almost. Why do even the villains' basic holidays have to be... like that?"

The twins just shrugged. The question hung in the air, and they began their training, trying not to think about the dark doubles lurking in the depths of their consciousness.

Chapter Text

Louie slowly ran his hand over the racks of expensive suits in the massive walk-in closet, the squeak of the hangers shattering the oppressive silence of the room. The endless rows of clothing were dazzling, but for a dinner party as a representative of the Balcom clan, an impeccable choice was required. The child's gaze settled on a stern black jacket made of expensive, soft fabric, perfectly paired with an emerald silk tie.

Without a second thought, the duckling took it off the hanger and quickly dressed. Approaching the massive, gold-framed mirror, Louie carefully smoothed his ruffled head feathers with a brush.

Then the young villain remembered his father's gift—a heavy gold watch with the family crest. The boy retrieved them from the depths of the dresser, clicked the leather strap shut, and noted with satisfaction how the dark green stone on the dial shimmered in the light of the crystal lamp.

"Hmm, not bad," Louie muttered, turning in front of the mirror and assessing his reflection. A proud smile touched his beak for a moment, "So this is the rich life! A true Balcom must be seen in worthy attire."

But the euphoria faded instantly, replaced by familiar anxiety. His hand instinctively reached for the bedside table, where a small glass vial of cloudy liquid lay. Louie stuffed it into his jacket's inner pocket, feeling the familiar cold of the glass against his chest.

The heir didn't part with the sedative for a minute. The nightmares, in which his grinning double chased him, were becoming brighter and more horrifying, and the feeling of fear was growing like a snowball. The medicine only helped temporarily muffle the voice in his head whispering: "Everything will change soon." Louie didn't understand what those words meant, but an icy premonition suggested—nothing good.

Finished getting ready, the duckling went out into the living room but didn't see the twins there. He glanced irritably at the dial of his gold watch: they had less than five minutes before departure.

"Amanda, Ethan, I'm not going to..." the older one began, but his angry tirade was interrupted by a jubilant exclamation.

"Tremble! For I, Ethan Balcom, the most irresistible heir on the Continent of Evil, have arrived!"

Ethan stood on the threshold, beaming with pride. He struck a pose, clearly expecting admiration. Louie looked him up and down skeptically. His brother was dressed in a similar black jacket, but instead of a tie, he sported a white bow tie that fluttered slightly with his energetic movements.

"You like it?" Ethan asked hopefully.

"Yeah, just cut the 'performances'," Louie grumbled tiredly. Ethan just smiled wider in response and nodded happily.

At that moment, Amanda emerged from her room. She wore an elegant black dress sprinkled with tiny sequins that shimmered with every movement. A hair clip with an artificial rose of the same charcoal shade was woven into her fluffy feathers. Unlike usual days, she had let down her ponytails, and now wavy strands softly brushed her shoulders.

"Wow, that suits you even better," Louie praised sincerely, though with some surprise. Ethan, studying his sister carefully, nodded solemnly, completely agreeing with his brother.

"Oh, thank you!" Amanda was even embarrassed by the unexpected compliment. She was used to constant arguments and rivalry, so such kindness from her brothers was still new to her.

"Alright, we're late, so let's go!" Louie commanded sternly and decisively marched towards the exit. The twins, without a second thought, obediently followed him like ducklings following their mother duck.

---

In the private jet's cabin, the children were vigorously arguing about what treats awaited them at dinner. The ducklings, starved for normal food, would have accepted any option, but each passionately defended their favorite dish. Louie initially watched the twins' bickering with a slight smile, but soon became thoughtful. It was strange and a bit amusing to realize that these restless chicks were now his family, and he was responsible for them.

When the plane landed, the heirs were greeted by the sight of a stunning estate. Beyond a high, wrought-iron fence stretched a manicured park with a huge turquoise pool, and in the distance, a garage with a collection of luxury cars was visible. The main mansion, in light tones with marble columns and a dark marble roof, inspired awe. An elderly stork in an impeccable tailcoat, the butler, immediately approached the children and, with a respectful bow, escorted the ducklings inside.

"I like it!" Amanda whispered ecstatically, clenching her fists from overwhelming emotion. The brothers nodded silently, also impressed. Although Louie thought his Uncle Scrooge's mansion was more magnificent, this place had a special, resort-like atmosphere that he definitely liked.

Entering the spacious hall, the ducklings froze, examining the room: marble statues stood everywhere, ancient portraits in gilded frames hung on the walls, and a tall fountain played in the center of the hall. The windows were adorned with heavy red velvet curtains, and many interior details glittered with gold.

The children were about to proceed further when their path was blocked by a girl duck who looked about the twins' age. She was beaming with a smile and, before Louie could open his beak, joyfully exclaimed first.

"Hello! I'm Jessica, but you can call me Jess!"

The girl seemed incredibly excited by the green-eyed ones' arrival. Jessica wore an exquisite sea-green dress, making her bright feathers seem even more vibrant.

"Hello, nice to meet you!" Ethan instantly beamed, reciprocating her enthusiasm. At that moment, the rest of the family approached.

"We are incredibly happy about your visit! I hope you enjoy our humble dinner," the head of the family said with a warm smile.

"Of course!" the twins exhaled in unison, and Louie tugged at them, quietly taking their hands to calm them down a bit.

"I'm Katherine, this is my husband Andrew, our eldest son Liam, and you've already met Jessica," the woman introduced everyone with a slight gesture of her hand.

"And we..." Louie began.

"Oh, don't trouble yourselves, we know perfectly well who you are!" Andrew interrupted him with a friendly chuckle. The eldest heir was momentarily taken aback but quickly mustered a polite, though slightly strained, smile.

"You're the spitting image of Derek! Just as charming," Katherine giggled and hugged all three. The children felt incredibly warm inside from this comparison—they always loved being compared to their father.

"I think we should proceed to the table," Andrew suggested, gesturing for the guests to enter the dining room. The ducklings nodded with relief.

Once everyone was seated at the huge oak table, the adult Blackwells immediately launched into a lively conversation with the heirs, treating them as equals. Jessica was cheerfully whispering something in her brother Liam's ear. Everyone was seated so that the families faced each other.

"We saw the reports of your victory in 'Heroes and Death.' Honestly, it's impressive!" Katherine remarked, throwing a meaningful glance at Louie.

"Y-yes, thank you... we tried," the child muttered sheepishly. Memories of that game were painful for him, but the Blackwells spoke of it with such sincerity that he felt awkward.

"Any other outcome was impossible. Those with Balcom blood in their veins have an innate talent for such... enterprises," Andrew importantly supported his wife.

The ducklings were momentarily at a loss for words, but Katherine rejoined the conversation.

"I even remember when Ayden played for the first time. Wasn't he, by any chance, the one who taught you your fighting style?"

Louie frowned—the name meant nothing to him. The twins, however, perked up.

"Yes, it was him! But we taught Fred ourselves!" Amanda exclaimed proudly, but her face immediately clouded, as if remembering something sad.

"Very much like him," Katherine said softly, almost tenderly.

"Father said we needed to sign a couple of contracts. What are they about?" Ethan hurried to change the subject. Louie quietly whined in frustration. He still hadn't found out who this mysterious Aiden was.

"Ah, just about a joint venture to build a restaurant chain. We want the Balcom brand to participate in its promotion. I'm sure with your name, it will become incredibly popular," Andrew explained thoroughly.

The ducklings almost physically felt the tension ease. They had involuntarily feared some trick hidden in the contracts.

"That's... not difficult. How long have you known our father?" Ethan inquired cautiously. The Blackwells exchanged warm smiles.

"We've known Derek since childhood. Our families have been friends for many generations," Andrew replied proudly.

"You have a lovely mansion," Louie added out of politeness to keep the conversation going.

"Thank you, Frederick, our ancestral home is almost five hundred years old!" Katherine boasted with unconcealed pride.

Ethan noticed that Jessica kept glancing at them with an interested smile. Catching her eye, he smirked mysteriously in response.

Soon, all the papers were signed. Louie, following his Uncle Scrooge's teachings, meticulously studied every clause. Finding nothing suspicious, he signed with a sprawling signature in relief.

Dinner began to be served. It consisted of many exquisite dishes. The adults were served red wine, the children fresh juice. Amanda and Ethan's eyes lit up when the main course—an aromatic meat stew—was placed before them. Louie had always loved it, and the smell momentarily transported him to the past, to the kitchen of the mansion in Duckburg, where Mrs. Beakley used to cook for him and his family. A faint mask of sadness crossed his beak.

"To a successful partnership!" Andrew proposed a toast, and crystal glasses clinked loudly over the center of the table.

Starting to eat, the ducklings were initially ecstatic. After long deprivation, any normal food seemed divine to them. But tasting the stew, Louie detected a slight, strange aftertaste. The dish resembled what he had eaten before, but there was an alien, unfamiliar note in it. The boy couldn't pinpoint what exactly was wrong.

"Wonderful! Very tasty!" Amanda exclaimed delightedly.

"Yes, only... the meat has a strange taste..." Louie finally dared to remark, pinpointing the source of his doubts.

"Oh, you noticed!" Andrew's face lit up with a good-natured smile, "For such important guests as you, we used a special product—only the best townsfolk."

The Balcoms froze in horror, as if struck by lightning. An icy chill ran down the children's spines, paralyzing them.

"What?" Louie asked, refusing to believe what he had heard.

"You kill residents?!" Ethan cried out in a voice choked with horror.

"Oh, don't worry," Katherine replied calmly, as if nothing was wrong, "This meat isn't from the local residents of the Continent of Evil. It's imported from other, neutral lands. A special delicacy."

Louie felt his body begin to tremble with fine tremors, and a lump of nausea rose in his throat. He looked at his brother and sister. The twins were pale as sheets, their eyes frozen in shock, their hands cold.

"You're c-cannibals?!" Louie exclaimed, but in a quiet voice, still hoping it was some monstrous joke.

"Oh, dear me, no!" Katherine gently soothed him, "We only use this... ingredient on special occasions, for the most honored guests. But, to speak plainly, yes. Why have you gone so pale? As if you've seen a ghost..."

Louie felt dizzy, and his hands trembled treacherously. He grabbed the edge of the table to hide the shaking. Amanda covered her beak with her hand, feeling nauseous. Ethan looked at his plate with disgust and fear.

"E-everything's fine! We just didn't think we were so i-important to you," Louie forced out, trying to sound firm.

"How sweet and modest you are! Of course, you are special!" Katherine cooed affectionately.

"For representatives of your... status, this should be commonplace," Liam remarked with mild surprise, watching the guests' reactions closely.

The ducklings just silently, like puppets, nodded. Amanda couldn't take it; she stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over her chair.

"Excuse me..." the girl whispered and, pressing her hand to her mouth, shot out from the table towards the restroom. Louie and Ethan watched her go with horror and confusion.

The Blackwells watched the little one leave with sincere concern.

"Is something wrong?" Katherine asked, her brows furrowed with worry.

"She just... has an allergy to that kind of meat," Ethan quickly thought up.

"Oh my God, we didn't know! We're so sorry!" Katherine's face became truly distressed.

"It's okay..." Louie mechanically reassured the woman, though he himself needed comfort far more.

When Amanda returned, she was pale, her feathers ruffled, and her hands still trembling.

"We should probably go," Ethan said quietly but firmly and rose from the table. Louie immediately followed his example and went to his sister to support her.

"Yes, of course. Amanda, we are very sorry again. We couldn't have predicted your allergy," Andrew said sympathetically.

"Allergy?" Amanda asked in confusion. She looked at her brothers, but they nodded, signaling her to agree, and she gave in, "Ah, yes... An unpleasant situation..."

"She'll feel better soon!" Louie assured everyone with a strained, perfunctory smile and put his arm around his sister's shoulders.

---

In the plane's cabin, the children sat silently in the soft seats, staring into space. The air pressure outside seemed like a metaphor for their state. After several minutes of heavy silence, Ethan mustered the courage to break it.

"That's a bit too much adventure for one week..."

"I think I'll hate stew for the rest of my life now. Especially meat stew," Louie said with unconcealed disgust.

"At least you didn't disgrace yourselves there," Amanda blurted out with a sudden flash of despair, crossing her arms and sinking deeper into her seat.

"If it weren't for your 'allergy,' we'd still be stuck at that table!" Louie shouted, as if trying to calm his sister.

"They're kind of... suspiciously nice," Ethan said thoughtfully, looking out the window at the passing clouds.

"Everyone is suspicious to you!" Amanda retorted indifferently.

Louie felt tension rising between the twins. He didn't want it to escalate into another argument.

"Maybe we should go somewhere? Cheer ourselves up?" the older one suggested, trying to sound cheerful. His brother and sister looked at him in surprise.

"Are you serious right now?" Ethan made a puzzled face.

"Why not? We need to switch gears somehow. Any suggestions?" Louie chuckled uncertainly. He tensed up when he saw the twins exchange glances, and identical sly grins spread across their beaks. They turned to him in sync.

"You know one place we'd really like to go?" Amanda asked in a sweet voice. Louie became wary. He sensed trouble.

"I'm not sure I'll like it..."

"Oh, come on! We mean Funso's! You promised we'd go back to play the arcade games!" Ethan exclaimed.

"What?! Are you crazy?!" Louie's voice trembled with fear, "Last time we were almost recognized! I don't want to go back there!"

"Well, your brothers can't be on duty there every day! The chance is too small!" Amanda began to persuade the older one.

"But it exists!"

"What are you so afraid of?" Ethan asked with genuine interest, "Even if they do recognize you, so what? They're your family! They're not going to kill you in the end!"

"You don't understand!" Louie cried out desperately, and his voice broke. The twins immediately fell silent, seeing the former Duck's beak tighten and tears glistening in his eyes.

"Okay... you're right. Sorry," Amanda said quietly, genuinely repentant.

"It's nothing..." Louie replied hollowly, wrapping his arms around his head and burying his beak in his knees. Ethan and Amanda felt a pang of shame for driving the heir to such a state.

"So... why are you really afraid?" Ethan asked cautiously, "Because one of your brothers thinks you're... bad?"

"Not exactly..." Louie wiped his eyes, "I don't think they'd be happy to see me... I'd give anything to talk to them again, to hug them... But, knowing who I've become, will they forgive me? Or hate me even more? I don't want to know the truth. It would hurt too much..."

The twins silently moved closer to the older one and hugged him from both sides. Louie felt their warmth driving away the icy fear. He was grateful for this new, strange family, but the pain of losing the old one hadn't gone away.

---

"Look what I found!" Dewey exclaimed triumphantly, running into the room and handing his family an old, patina-covered bronze amulet.

"Wow! Where from?" Webby asked in surprise, carefully accepting the heavy object.

"You could say I won it in a very... risky game! But that's not important! With this, we can find Louie?"

"Theoretically, yes," Huey sighed, carefully studying the amulet, "But we need a piece of the person we're looking for. And we have nothing."

"Seriously? Ugh, all my heroic efforts are in vain!" Dewey exclaimed with a dramatic snort.

"You tried very hard..." Webby consoled her friend, patting his shoulder.

Dewey snorted again, but suddenly his eyes lit up with a new idea. He jumped up.

"Huey! Would one of Louie's feathers work?"

"Yes, it should... But where would we get one?" the older brother asked skeptically.

Without answering, Dewey ran to the closet, pulled out a pile of his younger brother's clothes, and dumped it on the floor with a determined look.

"There's got to be something here!" the blue duckling assured and began meticulously sorting through each item.

"Great idea!" Webby supported the boy and joined the search.

Huey, snorting skeptically, nonetheless knelt down beside them. Minutes passed with no result.

"This is useless..." Huey began, but Dewey interrupted him again.

"Aha! Here it is!" the middle triplet triumphantly held up a small, almost weightless white feather that had caught on the sweater's roughness.

"Excellent!" Huey carefully took the find and placed it in a depression on the amulet.

"Now we need to say the activation words from this book," Webby explained, flipping through an old encyclopedia of magic.

The children stood in a circle, placed the amulet on the floor, and chanted the ancient spell in unison. With the last word, the artifact flashed with a blinding light, and a ghostly flame erupted from it. The ducklings recoiled, though partly expecting something like this. A blurred image of the runaway hovered in the air, but instead of a clear silhouette of Louie, the picture shifted to only vague shadows and static.

"Where is he?" Webby whispered with despair in her voice.

"I don't know, the amulet can't break through! Let me try to boost the signal!" Huey reached out his hand, but at that moment the artifact abruptly went dark. Opening it, the ducklings saw the feather had turned into a handful of ash.

"Oh, no! What do we do now? We have nothing else!" Webby's voice trembled.

"I'm afraid nothing..." Huey exhaled with bitter defeat in his voice and kicked the amulet into the corner.

"But at least we know Louie is alive!" Dewey tried to cheer everyone up.

"But why was the signal so weak? Where is he?" Huey exclaimed with frustration in his voice, clenching his fists.

The pain was unbearable for the oldest. He loved his brother, no matter how difficult he was. The red duckling blamed himself for realizing too late how much Louie had needed his support. Huey sank onto the bed, dropping his head into his hands helplessly.

Dewey and Webby silently approached him and hugged him. They too suffered from the loss of someone too dear to them.

"We have to find him! He's our brother!" Dewey said with sudden fervor, "The power of brotherhood is strong!"

This time, tears streamed down the ducklings' beaks silently. But determination burned in their hearts. As long as Louie was alive, they would not stop searching. The Ducks had to bring him home.

Chapter Text

Thirteen years ago...

"Hey, Uncle Scrooge, what are we even supposed to find?" shouted Della, her voice barely audible over the roar of the Comet's engine, her gloved hands resting confidently on the steering wheel.

"A dragon sphere, my dear!" Scrooge, setting aside a yellowed map, looked at his niece. "They say it will grant any wish, but only to the most worthy duck!"

Donald, leaning against the side of the plane, snorted.

"And you, of course, think this sphere will grant your wish?" the drake said with unconcealed sarcasm, crossing his arms.

"Of course!" Scrooge tapped a self-satisfied rhythm on the floor with his cane.

"Donnie, don't be difficult," Della gently scolded her brother, not taking her eyes off the endless ocean of clouds outside the window. Scrooge grinned triumphantly at Donald. The latter just clicked his tongue in irritation, adjusted his sailor collar, and walked over to his sister.

About an hour passed. The monotonous drone of the engine was starting to get on their nerves. Donald was aimlessly fiddling with ropes in a corner, Scrooge was muttering something while checking the map, and Della felt her shoulders growing stiff from the strain. Suddenly, her fingers tightened on the wheel—it had become unnaturally heavy and lifeless.

"Uncle Scrooge! I've got a problem here..." the girl's voice, usually so confident, trembled.

"What is it?" Donald perked up, looking at his sister.

Suddenly, the instrument panel flashed with an alarming crimson glow, and a piercing, deafening siren wail made all three of them flinch.

"I don't know... Everything just stopped working!" Della cried out, desperately pulling levers, but the plane, like a wounded bird, began to rapidly lose altitude.

"Can you land it?" Scrooge, trying to mask his panic, made his voice deliberately soft and calming, though his palms had turned icy.

"I'm not sure, it's all water around here... Wait, there's land over there!"

The ducks all looked forward in unison. Indeed, in the middle of the turquoise ocean expanse, a huge island was visible. Gritting her teeth, Della used her last ounce of strength to try and level the falling machine, directing it towards a narrow strip of beach.

"Hold on!" the adventuress commanded in a clear voice.

The landing was not smooth. The plane hit the ground with a deafening screech, bounced, and, after plowing a deep furrow in the sand, came to a halt. The Ducks felt themselves thrown forward. When the dust settled and a ringing silence fell, the family, with trembling hands, climbed out to assess the damage.

"Oh no, the plane is completely wrecked!" Della's voice quivered with resentment and grief as she saw the dented fuselage and the torn-off wing of her beloved Comet.

Donald was about to hug his sister, but he didn't have time to take a step. From behind the trees, like shadows, figures in black uniforms emerged. The next instant, all three of them were forcefully shoved down onto the hot sand. Rough ropes bit into their wrists. When the ducks, catching their breath, managed to lift their heads, they saw the faces of soldiers in masks above them, and the cold metal of pistol barrels pressed against each Duck's head.

"Strangers! How did you get here?" one of the warriors growled.

"By accident. We're leaving now!" Scrooge, trying to maintain his dignity, attempted to negotiate, but his voice betrayed an inner tremor.

"Oh no, you're not! Do you know what we do with strangers?" hissed the soldier. The Ducks, exchanging glances, frantically searched for a way to escape, but then someone's authoritative and calm voice rang out, sounding like a verdict.

"Stop!"

As if by magic, the soldiers stepped back, forming a neat line. The adventurers, slowly getting up, saw before them a tall drake in an impeccably fitting green jacket. His posture betrayed an innate authority.

"You may release them."

The warriors, without a word, silently cut the ropes. The stranger waited for the soldiers to disappear into the trees, then with a light, gallant bow, offered his hand to Della to help her up. Their eyes met, and the girl saw his bright, piercing green eyes. A slight, inexplicable tremor ran through her.

"Thank you... Sir," Della muttered uncertainly, still in shock.

"Don't worry! Forgive such a... warm welcome. It's the custom here," replied the drake, and his smile widened, his eyes flashing with a green fire. The Ducks looked at their savior with frank wariness.

"Tell us, where are we?" Scrooge's voice was firm and stern. "Our plane lost control, which is very strange. As if for no reason."

"Oh, that's probably because you're on the Continent of Evil. I assume you are not villains yourselves."

The adventurers froze, as if turned to stone. The heavy, unreal words of the stranger hung in the air.

"No... we're from Duckburg," admitted the astonished Della, unable to look away from the mysterious drake.

"That's what I thought. My soldiers can repair your plane in no time. Ah, yes, I completely forgot to introduce myself. My name is Derek Balcom," the drake once again gallantly extended his hand in greeting.

"Della Duck!" the girl said quickly and was about to shake her savior's hand, but her brother sharply pulled her behind him.

"So, you're in charge here?" asked Donald, his gaze distrustful, his hand protectively on his sister's shoulder.

"You could say that. This army has been passed down through generations in my family for many generations!" the drake said proudly, adjusting his perfect tie knot.

"If we're on the Continent of Evil, and you own the army, does that make you a villain?" Scrooge concluded skeptically, almost sarcastically. They couldn't trust this well-groomed aristocrat.

"Technically, yes, but not all inhabitants of the continent are evil," the stranger replied with a slight smile, understanding the fear of the "guests."

"And how can we be sure you're 'good'?" Donald chimed in again, and his voice sounded challenging.

"We can fix our plane ourselves. So thank you for the offer, but we'll decline," Scrooge stated categorically, crossing his arms over his chest. Della looked at her family with slight bewilderment and resentment.

"Oh, come on. Forgive them, they're a bit distrustful. This is my brother Donald and our uncle Scrooge!" the adventuress hastily introduced them, smiling sheepishly. She didn't understand this instant and rude hostility towards someone who had just helped them.

"Oh, it's quite all right. I understand. The Continent of Evil doesn't have the best reputation," Derek averted his gaze, still maintaining his smile.

"And we would be grateful if you helped us!" the girl said confidently, almost challenging her relatives.

"What? Della..." Donald tried to object, but she just shot him a determined look.

"You don't know how to fix the plane, and I can't do it alone. Besides, you yourselves want to leave here as soon as possible," Della cut off. The girl's voice was confident. This unknown frightened her, but she didn't want to be ungrateful.

"Fine... but as soon as it's fixed, we fly away!" Scrooge reluctantly agreed, his heart heavy.

"Excellent!"

Derek stepped away a few paces, giving quiet, clear orders to the soldiers, while the Ducks stood by their crippled plane, feeling trapped.

"Della, stop being so nice to him. He's a villain! We can't trust him. The Continent of Evil isn't called that for nothing!" Donald whispered, leaning towards his sister, his face contorted with anxiety.

"Donnie, he said himself that not everyone here is evil! Derek decided to help us, isn't that enough for you?" the girl whispered back, looking into the distance at their savior.

"His words don't mean the pure truth. We'll stay here until the plane can fly again," Scrooge tried to reassure his niece, but he couldn't hide his own worry.

"Okay... but you be more polite too. He did help us, after all," Della sighed, and at that moment Derek himself approached them.

"So, everything will be ready within an hour!"

"Wow, pretty fast!" Della genuinely expressed surprise, knowing how long such repairs usually took.

"Would you like to take a walk around my estate in the meantime? I'm sure you'll find something you like!" the drake offered with a broad gesture.

Scrooge and Donald had already opened their beaks to refuse, but the girl beat them to it, cheerfully agreeing. The ducks weren't about to let her go alone with the villainous drake.

"So, have you always lived here?" Della asked as the ducks walked along the well-kept paths of the flower garden. Donald followed her closely, holding his sister's hand.

"Yes. My family has been known for owning the Black Army. But don't worry, the soldiers are harmless unless I order them otherwise," Derek replied, and a playful glint flickered in his eyes for a moment.

"That's what we're afraid of," Scrooge muttered under his breath.

The ducks emerged into a sunny clearing where a huge tree towered. Its trunk was so wide that six people couldn't wrap their arms around it, and its crown was lost high in the sky, dotted with thousands of soft pink, almost glowing buds.

"This is the Tree of Life. Every flower symbolizes an inhabitant of the Continent of Evil. If one dies, the bud withers," Derek explained, watching as the Ducks gazed spellbound at the giant.

"It's so beautiful!" Della exclaimed, and at that moment, a new, fragile flower quietly bloomed near her shoulder. The girl gently touched its petals, and a smile bloomed on her beak.

"This is the only thing on the Continent of Evil that looks good," Donald quipped sarcastically and immediately felt his sister elbow him in the side. Derek just laughed, showing Della that he wasn't offended by the sharp remark.

The villain showed his guests the most picturesque corners of the island. The Ducks were amazed by the exotic plants and unseen animals flitting through the foliage. Della, bombarding Derek with questions, glowed with interest. Her uncle and brother only grew gloomier, seeing this, and tried to stand between them. But by the end of the walk, tired and having relaxed a little, they had almost resigned themselves.

The ducks were informed that the plane was completely repaired, which Balcom happily told the Ducks. On the way back, Della and Derek inadvertently ended up ahead—the girl was tired of being literally led on a leash.

"It's great here! I wouldn't say we're in villain territory," the girl praised sincerely.

"These aren't all the beautiful places. There are many more on the actual Continent."

"Really? It's a shame I won't be able to see them..." Della's face darkened. She understood they wouldn't be coming back here.

"If you want, we could visit them together. With me, you can travel across the continent without fear of other villains. They don't like strangers here."

Della's heart skipped a beat at the offer, but then sank. She knew her family would never let her go in a million years.

"Unfortunately, I can't. Uncle and Donald would definitely be against it..."

"My offer will always stand. So, if you decide, you can call," Derek said with a light, encouraging smile and, with a deft movement, while Scrooge and Donald were hotly discussing something, slipped Della a small business card with a phone number.

"Oh, okay," the girl cheered up again and, glancing around furtively, quickly hid the card in her pocket.

Meanwhile, Donald and Scrooge walked behind, their faces sullen.

"I don't like this Derek..." the nephew hissed through his teeth.

"Yes, me neither... It's very strange that he's behaving so nicely. A villain is a villain!" Scrooge agreed, gripping the handle of his cane.

The drakes were infuriated that Della had so easily succumbed to the stranger's charm, but the girl just tossed her head proudly and quickened her pace.

On the plane, Della was overjoyed. The Comet was working even better than before. In response, Donald just snorted and muttered something unintelligible about a "wolf in sheep's clothing."

"Oh, come on, Uncle Scrooge. He's not that bad. Why else would he help us?" Della tried to object as they approached the mansion.

"I don't know, but that doesn't mean he didn't have bad intentions!" the rich drake replied firmly. The girl sighed quietly, realizing it was useless to argue.

That same night, Della stood by the window of her room, examining the business card in the moonlight. She didn't want to quarrel with her family, but the forbidden dream of visiting the Continent of Evil, which had tormented her since childhood, called and beckoned.

"No, no... they're right! You can't trust a stranger!" the adventuress tried to convince herself and put the card aside on the table. But, remembering Derek's piercing green eyes, his calm confidence, she doubted. There was something special about him, alluring and dangerous at the same time. — On the other hand... What's the worst that could happen?

The girl's fingers reached for the business card again.

---

"Glad you agreed!" said Derek, his smile seeming even more dazzling in the night as they walked through the mysteriously lit park.

"I just thought I ought to see the perks of living here," Della replied, looking down in embarrassment.

"Hmm, probably not as many as in Duckburg, but... there are some," the villain said with the same playful smile.

"Oh, I didn't mean that!.." the girl tried to justify herself, but Derek just laughed. Della felt a blush spreading across her cheeks.

"I understand. What would you like to see first?"

"I don't even know... What do you recommend..."

The drake led the girl through the night city. It was a different world. All the buildings blazed with neon lights, signs flashed in all the colors of the rainbow. Well-dressed townspeople in suits and dresses embroidered with glowing threads crowded everywhere. Strange fireworks exploded with a roar in the sky.

"It's so beautiful! Is there some holiday today?" Della exclaimed enthusiastically, trying to drown out the noise and music, watching the fire dancers.

"Yep, every year we just have fun. It's a day when we can forget our worries and just relax. You're lucky you decided to visit the Continent of Evil today," Derek explained, looking in the same direction as his new acquaintance.

The girl suddenly felt awkward in her simple flight suit amidst these sparkling outfits. Derek noticed her embarrassment. While Della, mesmerized, watched the show, he plucked a blue flower with large, velvety petals from a nearby bush, which glowed with a soft blue light in the dark.

"You know, I think it matches your eyes!" the drake said and gently wove the flower into the adventuress's bangs. Della blushed again, but this time she was overcome by a new, warm, and tremulous feeling.

"Thank you!" whispered the Duck, and her smile became shy.

"I know a place that's even better," Derek suddenly announced and, taking her by the hand, led her away. Della, without thinking, allowed him to lead her.

The ducks climbed a high hill covered in soft, plush-like grass. The noise of the celebration barely reached here. Della walked to the very edge. Before her, like scattered treasure, lay the night city, and overhead, in an unusually black sky, millions of steady stars burned. The girl sank onto the grass, allowing the cool wind to play with her hair. She closed her eyes, inhaling the freedom and this dazzling beauty. Derek sat down beside her.

"I like it here. I would never have thought the Continent of Evil was such a beautiful place!"

"You're the first to say that, not counting the locals."

Della wasn't surprised. Since childhood, she had heard that this continent was a den of vice. Uncle Scrooge repeated it as an axiom. But the heart and soul of the adventurer yearned for this bright, alive, and alien world.

---

In the morning, Della, like a shadow, crept into her room through the window, trying not to creak the floorboards. Sleep was beckoning her, but there was very little time until breakfast. She carefully placed the glowing flower in a crystal vase with water, catching her tired but happy reflection in the glass. Collapsing on the bed, the girl instantly fell asleep.

The duck was awakened by the persistent ringing of an alarm clock. Sleepy, with a heavy head, Della went down to the dining room, where Donald and Scrooge were already waiting for her.

"Good morning," sounded almost simultaneously.

Sitting at the table, the girl felt her eyelids sticking together but tried her best not to show it.

"Dear, is everything alright? You look tired," Scrooge noticed with a slight concern in his voice, putting aside the newspaper.

"Yes, everything's fine. Just had a nightmare, so I couldn't sleep half the night," Della lied and attacked the pancakes with redoubled energy. Donald shot his sister a brief, distrustful look.

After breakfast, the family, as usual, gathered in the living room. Della and Donald settled on the sofa in front of the TV, while Scrooge, settling into an armchair, immersed himself in reading a financial report, only occasionally glancing at the arguing nephews. Suddenly, the cheerful music of the series was interrupted by the sharp beeps of an emergency alert. An agitated news anchor appeared on the screen.

"Emergency alert! Citizens are disappearing all over the country. No one knows where! The police cannot find any leads. 'As if they vanished into thin air,' reported one of the detectives. Stay vigilant, do not go outside without good reason!"

"How awful!" Della cried out, interrupting the announcer.

"What happened to them?" Donald asked quietly, almost to himself.

Scrooge just sighed heavily, and his gaze became sharper. He was worried about his family, but he knew his nephews could take care of themselves.

---

Three months later, Della and Derek began to meet in secret. She hid it from her family, knowing their disapproval. But her heart, given entirely to the drake, did not allow her to give up these meetings. The girl became an escape master, slipping out of the house almost every night to rush to the Continent of Evil.

Della began to be recognized on the streets; she even met some local "celebrities" from the villain world. Derek showered her with gifts—curious trinkets, strange artifacts that she hid at the bottom of a box, afraid Donald or Scrooge would find them. The constant lack of sleep and nervous tension did not escape her brother's attention.

One day, Della, as usual, returned at dawn and was about to step over the windowsill when a sharp voice sounded in the darkness.

"Where have you been?!" Donald asked angrily. His sister saw him sitting on her bed, his face stern and reproachful. This infuriated Della.

"None of your business, I was just taking a walk!"

"At night?"

"Yes, I don't see a problem. You shouldn't be spying on me!" she retorted indignantly, jumping onto the floor.

"You were with him?!" it suddenly dawned on Donald, and his eyes widened in horror and anger. Della felt the ground disappear from under her feet.

"Well... I... Yes! But that's my business!" the sister tried to go on the offensive, raising her voice. Scrooge appeared in the doorway, awakened by the argument.

"What's going on? Your shouting can be heard on every floor!"

"Della's been sneaking out to see Derek!" Donald blurted out, and Scrooge's face became serious.

"What?! With that villain?!" the rich duck's voice thundered like a clap of thunder.

"So what? He's good! I love him! You can't forbid me from seeing him!" Della shouted back, despair and rage rising in a lump in her throat. The drakes froze in stunned silence. Unable to bear it any longer, she ran out of the room, slamming the door loudly.

For several days, an icy silence reigned in the McDuck mansion. Della decided not to go to the Continent of Evil, torn between longing for Derek and the fear of completely ruining her relationship with her family.

Scrooge, seeing his niece's suffering, persuaded Donald to make peace. The drakes still believed Della's choice was a mistake, but acknowledged her right to it. So, after waiting a week, they knocked on her door.

"Della, sorry we said those things..." Scrooge began but didn't finish because the girl rushed into his arms and then just as swiftly hugged her brother.

"I forgave you long ago. I understand you worry about me, but... Derek is really good!"

The Ducks exchanged glances, and their looks showed uncertainty but also a desire to believe.

"Okay, we can live with that. Maybe he's really not so bad," Donald forced out with great effort, and a timid, grateful smile bloomed on Della's face.

---

For several months, Della openly traveled to the Continent of Evil. Scrooge and Donald still had doubts but kept their word and did not interfere. A couple of times they encountered Derek, and those meetings were limited to icy nods and sharp remarks. Della saw this and suffered, torn between her love for her family and her love for Derek.

"Dear, maybe you shouldn't? You know what times these are..." Scrooge gently stopped his niece at the door, hinting at the increasing cases of disappearances.

"It's fine. I'll just make a quick trip to Derek's. I have a surprise for him!" Della replied joyfully, adjusting her bag. Scrooge and Donald exchanged glances again, and the same anxiety was visible in their eyes. But, suppressing a sigh, they silently watched her go.

Arriving on the island, Della began looking for Derek. The soldiers, who already knew her by sight, pointed the way. Following their directions, she entered one of the offices in his residence. The room was dark, smelling of old wood and ink.

Clicking the light switch, the adventuress found no one. She was about to leave, but her gaze fell on the desk, cluttered with a disorderly stack of papers. Curiosity, always her weakness, overpowered her. For a few seconds, Della fought with herself, but in the end, she approached and began shuffling through the sheets.

The first one she picked up turned out to be just a list of artifacts. Tossing it aside, the girl skimmed through a few more until her attention was caught by one written in Derek's familiar sprawling handwriting. She picked up the sheet.

After reading the first few lines, Della felt the blood freeze in her veins. Her fingers trembled, and an icy cold pierced her body. She couldn't move, couldn't tear her eyes away from the monstrous words. At that moment, Derek entered the room. Seeing her with the paper in her hands, he froze for a moment, and then a calm, almost pleased smile spread across his face.

"Oh, looks like you know everything..."

"W-why does it say here that you're using souls to gain power?!" Della wanted to scream, but only a choked, frightened whisper escaped her throat. With a trembling hand, she held out the fateful sheet to him.

"It's... not exactly like that. There's nothing bad here. I'm just making life better for the villains. With this power, we can finally show the people outside the Continent what we're worth!" the drake's voice was cold and absolutely calm, like a scientist explaining an obvious experiment. Della's breath caught.

"B-but... you wrote here yourself that this requires killed people... Wait... where did you..." a terrifying picture began to form in the girl's head, like a puzzle.

"Of course! You can't get results without experiments. Isn't that right?" Derek chuckled, and a fire flashed in his green eyes.

"So it's you! You're kidnapping people! You're killing them! You're a murderer!" this time Della's scream was full of genuine, icy horror. It seemed to her the world was collapsing before her eyes.

"Hmm, do you really think it's that bad? A few lives in exchange for villains not being outcasts to your people! Why don't you join me? It didn't work with the inhabitants, but I know another way!" Derek took a step forward to take her hand, but Della, disgusted, pulled away. Bitter, burning tears streamed from her eyes.

"Never! I won't become a murderer! How could you! I believed in you, defended you, told my family you were good! And you... you," Della looked at the villain in horror, feeling her hands shake.

"Dear, that's life. Did you really think everything here was so good?" Derek replied in the same even tone, but a slight note, either irritated or frightened, sounded in his voice for the first time. Della took another step back.

"Donald and Scrooge were right. You're a monster! I h-hate you! I don't want anything to do with you!" the girl shouted in his face with her last strength and, crumpling the paper, threw it at him. He just smirked, his eyes flashing. Della rushed for the exit, but Derek managed to grab her by the wrist.

"If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

"Never..." Della hissed, breaking free with force. The drake easily let her go. She ran out of the room without looking back; streams of tears flowed down her cheeks, washing away the last illusions.

Rushing home, Della burst into her bedroom and, collapsing on the bed, sobbed, pressing her knees to her chest and covering her face with her hands. The bitterness of betrayal and shame choked her. She cried until the door opened and Scrooge and Donald entered the room.

"Della, what happened..." Donald began, but seeing his inconsolable sister, he froze in horror. The drakes were instantly beside her, hugging her.

"What happened?" Scrooge repeated the question in a concerned tone.

"Y-you were right!.. Derek is b-bad! Very bad! I'm sorry I didn't listen to you..." Della was crying so hard that she was shaking, and her words turned into an incoherent mumble. Scrooge and Donald, exchanging glances, were already mentally picturing the worst scenarios but didn't rush the girl, just holding her in their embrace. When the sobs subsided a little, she, sniffing, told them everything.

"I found notes on his desk, left by him. I didn't understand half of it, but I knew one thing... He kidnaps people to kill them and collect their souls. But Derek didn't hide it; he seemed almost glad," Della uttered the last words with soul-chilling contempt and indignation.

"Did he do anything bad to you?" Donald's voice broke; he was afraid to think what Derek might have done to silence her.

"No..." Della shook her head briefly, almost convulsively.

The drakes spent several hours with her, calming her, holding her hands, saying they were there for her. It helped. Della felt their love and support, and she was unbearably ashamed of her stubbornness. But they didn't reproach her, didn't say "we told you so."

In the following days, Della tried to get Derek out of her head but couldn't. To the heartache, physical symptoms were added: she felt nauseous in the mornings, dizzy, and overcome by a strange weakness. Scrooge and Donald took care of her solicitously, but she often asked to be left alone, feeling that something was wrong with her.

And then one day, a terrifying guess flashed in the girl's head like lightning. Buying a test at the pharmacy, she waited for the result with bated breath. Two lines. Her hands trembled, and an icy chill ran down her spine. Not wanting to believe it, she looked at the test again and realized her worst fears had come true.

"No, no... What will Donald and uncle say?.."

Della paced around the room, thinking of how to soften the blow, but most of all she was afraid of one thing—that her family would turn away from her. Realizing it was pointless to hide, she gathered everyone in the living room. Having seated her relatives on the sofa, she remained standing, nervously fiddling with the edge of her scarf.

"What's wrong? Why did you call us?" asked Scrooge, his gaze full of anxiety.

"Promise you won't get angry... And take it normally..." Della tried to smile, but only managed a pathetic grimace.

"Della... what is it?" Donald looked at his sister, and his eyes held a silent question. Taking a deep breath, she continued.

"Remember, we said we wouldn't bring up the topic of Derek again?"

"Well, yes, but what does that have to do with it?" Scrooge frowned.

Another second of hesitation, and Della blurted out.

"I'm pregnant!"

Donald and Scrooge froze as if turned to ice. They processed these words, unable to utter a sound. Della, expecting an explosion of anger or disappointment, shrank.

"I know... I know... this is bad..." the girl whispered, covering her face with her hands.

But instead of reproaches, Della felt warm, strong hugs. Opening her eyes, she saw that both her brother and uncle were looking at her with a slight, forgiving smile.

"No, it's alright..." said Donald, and his voice was firm. "Even if the child has Derek's blood, we won't let them meet!"

"One more adventurer in the family!" Scrooge tried to joke, and sincere happiness sparkled in his eyes. All three laughed through their tears.

"I love you!.." Della whispered, hugging them back as tightly as she could.

Soon, the Ducks learned there wouldn't be one child, but three. Their joy knew no bounds! Della hardly left her eggs, talking to them, singing songs. Donald loved his unborn nephews with all his heart, and Scrooge spent hours telling them through the shell about his greatest adventures. The whole family eagerly awaited the ducklings' arrival.

---

The only witness to the miracle itself was Donald. Two ducklings had already hatched, occasionally peeping, but the third egg remained motionless. Donald's heart tightened with fear, but then the shell cracked, and the last chick looked out into the world. With bated breath, the uncle carefully picked up the tiny one.

When the baby opened his eyes, Donald froze: they were the same bright green, piercing, as Derek's. For a moment, the image of his sister, her pain and disappointment, flashed in his memory. But then the drake only pressed the warm, trusting bundle closer to his chest, knowing he would do everything so that this child and his brothers would never know who their father was and never face the dark legacy.

Chapter Text

Louie trudged down the gloomy corridor on the island, barely managing to put one foot in front of the other. His legs felt like lead, and his eyelids were heavy. His mind, fogged by endless fatigue, struggled to register reality. All the boy wanted at that moment was to lose consciousness, even if only for a little while.

For the last month, the duckling hadn't known what proper sleep was. Every night, Fred, his dark half, visited him in nightmares, turning his soul inside out. You'd think Louie would have gotten used to this nightly horror, but no—each time he woke up in a cold sweat, his heart pounding wildly. The heir fiercely hated his evil persona, but he was even more afraid of it. His progress in studies and training had taken a nosedive, something even the perpetually squabbling twins noted with concern.

Ethan and Amanda walked behind, chatting casually and shoving each other. Their ringing, energetic voices grated on Louie's ears. He was dragging himself to his room with his last ounce of strength, dreaming of just a couple of minutes of quiet rest. His head was splitting, and the twins' roughhousing and laughter made a dull throb pound in his temples. Exhausted, the duckling didn't utter a word.

"So, what do you think, Louie?" Amanda's voice suddenly sounded right by his ear as she skipped up to him.

"H-huh?" the eldest mumbled, unable to muster more of a response.

"Don't you want to meet our friends? We think they'll like you," the little girl offered proudly. Louie caught a glimpse of her sweet smile.

"Yeah… later," the green-eyed duck drawled, finally reaching the door handle to the common living room. The eldest flopped onto the cool leather sofa, and the twins, stopping their merrymaking, exchanged puzzled looks.

Louie curled up, burying his face in a white silk pillow. Amanda silently approached him.

"Um… Lou, what's wrong? You've looked just awful for a couple of days now," the girl's voice had that now-familiar note of concern.

"Our old man is just tired. Old age is no joke. Right, Louie?" Ethan teased his brother sarcastically, giggling quietly. But the irritated duckling, without opening his eyes, threw a pillow at him.

"I'm trying to sleep…" the green duckling whispered and covered his eyes with his arm, trying to block out the annoying light from the window.

"We can see that, but isn't nighttime enough for you?" a confused Amanda clarified. Annoyance flashed across Louie's face, but he didn't open his eyes. His thoughts were jumbled, and his whole body ached.

"No."

"Why not?" the twins asked in unison, moving closer.

"I have a question in return. Why do you sleep soundly? Don't your evil personas torment you?" the eldest exhaled and buried his face in the pillow again, which a slightly stunned Ethan silently returned to him.

"I don't know… Mine visits me maybe once every few days. I have enough time to catch up on sleep in between," the younger one replied. Louie just let out a tired, ragged sigh.

"Yeah, same with me. Wait, does yours visit you every night?" suddenly Amanda's voice became thinner and more anxious. Ethan looked at his sister with concern.

"Well, yes. Isn't that how it's supposed to be?"

Hearing the affirmative answer, Amanda dashed to her room like an arrow. Returning, she feverishly flipped through an old, worn, leather-bound book that had belonged to her mother.

"Here!" the girl exclaimed, jabbing her finger at a yellowed page, " 'The more emotionally unstable the subject, the more frequent and vivid the nocturnal visitations will be…'" she read aloud and stared at her brother, who had pushed the pillow aside and opened his eyes, now filled with sudden interest.

"What does that mean?"

"Well… are you going through something right now? Is there something that makes you worry even during the day?" Amanda deciphered. Louie immediately understood what she meant.

"Yeah, probably…"

"What? What?" the twins exclaimed, their eyes burning with curiosity.

"Never mind. It's personal!"

Brother and sister crossed their arms over their chests and stared at him with silent reproach. But their pressure didn't make Louie give in. He closed his eyes again, demonstratively ignoring his relatives.

"You can't go without sleep for so long! Tell us, maybe we can help!" the younger one persisted. Ethan immediately joined her pleas. Their insistent voices made the eldest duckling's head split even more.

"Okay, okay! Just calm down!.." Louie cried out, "My other personality often shows me that my first family hates me. It's always terrible… That's why I don't want to fall asleep, knowing what's coming!"

The boy didn't lie, but he didn't tell the whole truth. Besides the dreams about the Duck family, he was haunted by nightmares about his new family. He saw the twins suffering, and sometimes the dreams even reached their deaths. It was unbearable to watch. Over the past few months, the duckling had genuinely grown attached to Ethan and Amanda. An unfamiliar "big brother" instinct had awakened in him, and Louie, without even realizing it, had begun to look after them.

"You're afraid they won't accept you?" asked Ethan, and his voice became unexpectedly soft and understanding. The eldest nodded slowly, with difficulty.

"I know what will help you!" Amanda blurted out and rushed to her room again. She returned with a small velvet pouch. Pulling out a wrinkled dark-blue berry, the girl quickly shoved it into the stunned Louie's beak. He didn't even have time to react before a pungent, disgusting taste spread down his throat. The duckling's face contorted, and he coughed.

"Ugh! What is that?!"

"Sleep-berries. But I only had one; it won't last long. We need more!" the girl blurted out, beaming with her own cleverness.

"Great! I know where we can buy them!" Ethan chimed in, jumping up with delight.

"Everyone knows that," Amanda retorted sarcastically.

Louie felt a pleasant heaviness spread through his body, but the weakness didn't go away. He collapsed back onto the pillow with relief.

"Yeah, great… Get the money from my room," Louie didn't continue, yawning.

"Huh? No, you're coming with us!" Ethan objected indignantly, grabbed the eldest by the legs, and dragged him off the sofa. The green duckling groaned in protest.

"I'd rather sleep, if you don't mind!"

"Yeah, well. We're just scared… in case something happens. We get scared walking without our big brother," Amanda's voice became quiet and trembling; she even brushed away a non-existent tear.

Louie knew perfectly well that the twins together could turn the whole district upside down, but a strange, aching feeling in his chest wouldn't let him leave them alone.

"Are you serious? Ugh, fine, let's go…" the eldest gave in with a groan, fully aware that Amanda was masterfully manipulating him again. She had a natural talent for it. All it took was for the little girl to make sad puppy-dog eyes, and everyone around was ready to move mountains. The brothers secretly prided themselves on this skill of hers, but only when it wasn't used against them.

---

Arriving in the grim, metal-and-smoke-smelling district, Ethan led the family to the market where, he assured them, they could get sleep-berries. Louie, under the influence of the plant, felt a bit more confident, but the headache still reminded him of itself with dull throbs. The trio walked along narrow, cobblestone streets; the few passersby cast suspicious, sometimes openly hostile, glances at them. Living on the Continent of Evil, the children had gotten used to such reactions.

"Did you notice there are way fewer people around today?" Amanda suddenly broke the silence. The boys grew alert, looking around.

"Yeah, probably."

"A bit strange… Stop, look over there!" the girl pointed towards a deserted intersection. Ethan and Louie obeyed. Seeing the bright blue, glowing tracks, the ducklings froze in amazement. The marks led into an alley as dark as pitch. The children cautiously approached the edge, peering into the impenetrable darkness. Amanda took a step forward, but her brother grabbed her by the shoulders.

"We are not going in there!" Louie ordered, almost angrily.

"What? Why? Scared of the dark?" his sister retorted, the thrill of exploration already lighting up her eyes.

"You know, she's right. It's like a real adventure!" Ethan supported his twin. The green duckling snorted. He hated the very word "adventure" and everything associated with it. He felt sick remembering all those misadventures with the Ducks. An unpleasant, cold lump tightened in his chest as his brother and sister waited for his verdict.

"This is even worse! What if it's dangerous? Did you even think about that?" the eldest cried out, and his voice held genuine alarm. Seeing Louie's face pale, Amanda and Ethan realized it wasn't just about fear.

"We just thought there might be treasure! Well, if you don't want to…" Ethan decided to play on Louie's main weakness—his passion for gold. The latter visibly perked up, and the younger brother threw his sister a triumphant look. The young villain was indeed scared, both for himself and for the twins, but how could he resist potential loot?

"Weeell, okay. We can have a little adventure…" the eldest said the last word with such open contempt that the twins exchanged surprised glances. But, deciding not to ask, all three timidly stepped into the darkness.

The heirs picked their way through, jumping over piles of broken crates and sharp fragments of bricks. Helping each other, the ducklings delved deeper into the labyrinth of alleys, which seemed endless. They had been walking for a good half-hour, guided only by the mysterious blue tracks.

"I wonder where they lead?"

"Hopefully, to something valuable!" Louie snorted, and excitement gradually began to overpower his fatigue. For a moment, he forgot how he once loved such outings, before he realized his "second-rate" status compared to his brothers.

Soon, the children reached a barrier. A massive old brick wall, overgrown with moss, loomed before them. After a brief consultation, the ducklings decided to hoist Amanda up—she was the lightest and most agile—and she, grabbing onto a branch of a nearby dead tree, would help the others up. They proceeded with the plan.

Once on top of the wall, the girl stood up to her full height and assessed the distance to the branch.

"Hmm, it seemed closer…"

"Can you reach it?" Ethan shouted, barely able to make out his sister in the gathering dusk.

"Yeah, probably," Amanda cautiously moved towards the target, stepping on the slippery, damp bricks. She was almost able to grab the branch when an old stone gave way beneath her feet with a grating sound. Losing her balance, the little girl let out a quiet cry as she fell. The impact with the ground sent a piercing, fiery pain through her right arm.

"Amanda?!" the brothers' voices sounded simultaneously, filled with genuine, icy horror.

"I-I'm okay! Just…" the girl couldn't finish, looking in horror at her arm. Pulling off her glove, she saw her palm was smeared with blood and throbbing with pain. Tears welled up in her eyes on their own.

The younger girl looked around and immediately saw the cause—a rusty nail lay nearby, covered in fresh scarlet paint. Amanda could hear her brothers' desperate shouts but couldn't utter a word—the pain constricted her throat. She understood her palm was pierced through, but because of the blood, she couldn't see the wound clearly.

Sobbing quietly, Amanda felt something soft brush against her leg. She looked down and saw a small creature.

It was a jerboa, but not an ordinary one. Its paws glowed with the same mysterious blue color, and tiny wings adorned its back. The girl watched it spellbound as it carefully ran across her wound. Amanda felt a slight burning sensation, and the pain immediately receded, replaced by a pleasant warmth. The healed palm now held the little creature. The girl gently stroked it with her free hand, and the jerboa, in response, nudged her palm with its cold nose.

"Thank you…"

At that moment, the brothers, gathering debris, built a makeshift ladder and climbed over the wall.

"Are you okay?" Louie exhaled, his face white with fear.

"Yes! How did you get here?"

"We made a ladder from the rubble. Probably should've done that in the first place," the breathless Ethan explained. Their gazes fell on Amanda's hand and the creature sitting on it. Seeing the bloodstains, the brothers grew alarmed again.

"What's that?!" Louie almost shouted.

"He's cute, right? I hurt my palm a little, and he healed it. I don't know what kind of animal it is, but it looks like a jerboa, just with wings," the girl pointed to the rodent's back.

"Yeeah… Can you walk?" Ethan clarified, while Louie examined the strange creature suspiciously.

"Yes!"

"We really don't need to go further! You're already hurt. And we solved the mystery of the tracks! This jerboa made them!" the eldest pointed a finger at the animal.

"But maybe he's guarding something valuable! We should check! Otherwise, why do the tracks lead further?" Amanda parried. Louie snorted, but, catching her pleading look, gave in.

Getting up, the girl carefully placed her new friend on the ground. It ran a little ahead and stopped, looking back at the children. Understanding the hint, the ducklings followed it. It led them to a half-ruined building, in one of whose rooms a dim, ghostly light glowed.

Making their way through piles of broken bricks and rotten beams, the Balcoms gasped: before them, bathed in the strange glow, a whole family of similar winged jerboas was bustling about. Amanda's eyes shone with delight. Ethan couldn't hold back a smile looking at them. The ducklings crouched down, hiding behind a stack of crates so as not to scare the animals.

"There's no gold here! Just wasted our time! Although… we could sell these rodents. How much would they fetch?" Louie began mentally counting the cents, but his sister elbowed him in the side and shot him a disapproving look.

"We are not selling them!"

"Okay, okay…" the eldest grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his eyes.

Amanda looked at her savior. But it didn't even think of joining its kin. The girl crouched lower and gave it a gentle push. At that moment, the old, rotten planks beneath them gave way with a crash, and all three ducklings tumbled down. The jerboas, seeing the strangers, scattered in all directions with squeaks. Amanda's new friend took a few steps after them but stopped.

"What's wrong? Why aren't you with them?" the younger girl whispered, reaching out her hand to it. It climbed up her wrist and curled up on her palm into a warm, trembling ball.

"Haven't seen anything stranger, and I live on the Continent of Evil," Ethan stated. The ducklings looked at their sister, who was examining the animal with concern.

"Oh no… his wing is broken! Can we take him with us?" the girl suddenly exclaimed, casting a pleading look at her brothers.

"I don't think that's a good idea…"

"But… But he needs help! Look at him!" Amanda brought the unfortunate jerboa right up to Louie's face.

"I think Father wouldn't want us to have pets," Ethan supported his brother. The girl's spirits fell, but she didn't let go of the little animal.

"I just… What will happen to him? He won't survive alone…"

Louie was surprised by the depth of her concern for a strange rodent.

"Okay… If it's that important to you…" the eldest agreed reluctantly. Amanda's eyes lit up sharply, and she immediately threw her arms around his neck.

"Thank you, thank you! You're the best brother!"

The green duckling awkwardly hugged the girl back, feeling a warmth inside.

"I'm literally your twin!" Ethan protested, watching the scene. Louie shot him a triumphant look.

"Sorry, you're not bad either," the younger girl smiled.

"Alright… Hmm, look over there! What's that?" the boy picked up a strange object lying in the very center of the room. It was an amulet made of dark metal.

"So they were guarding something after all," Louie declared, greedily examining the find.

"I wonder if it's ordinary or magical?"

"Let's take it with us, we'll figure it out at home," Louie decreed and carefully put the amulet in his pocket.

On the way back, Amanda couldn't take her eyes off her new friend, whispering something tenderly to him. The jerboa, seeming to understand it wouldn't be abandoned, noticeably perked up.

"What will you name him?" Louie asked, looking at his beaming sister.

"Gerald! I think it suits him," the girl scratched her pet behind the ear.

"Seriously? Why Gerald?" Ethan asked, puzzled.

"I read a book once where the main character was named that. He was just a simple mouse, but he helped everyone, even sacrificing himself!"

The brothers just shrugged, exchanging meaningful glances.

"Fiiine… I think we came here for sleep-berries," the eldest reminded them as they stepped out onto a familiar street. Amanda carefully settled Gerald in the hood of her uniform. The twins nodded in agreement, and the ducklings headed towards the noisy market.

"Looks like it's going to rain," Ethan remarked to break the silence.

"What makes you say that?" Louie looked at him questioningly.

"The clouds."

"They're always here. I've never seen the sun on the Continent of Evil!" the eldest snorted irritably.

"They're darker than usual. Is that normal enough for you?" Ethan retorted sarcastically.

"Maybe that's enough?!" their sister intervened. Minor clashes between the Balcoms were happening more often, and although the children made up quickly, a residue remained.

"Uh-huh, we're here," Ethan agreed in a calm tone. He pointed to a row of stalls and tents stretching along the square.

"Great, which one do we need?" Louie asked, following the twins. The trio approached a small but cozy shop, its exterior hung with bundles of dried herbs and garlands of strange mushrooms.

The younger girl immediately struck up a lively conversation with the girl behind the counter as if she were an old friend.

"Hello, Mary. We need some sleep-berries. Do you still have any?"

"Of course, dear. You're in luck, there are just a couple left," the girl replied and poured all the remaining berries into a small canvas bag. The brothers watched their sister from the side.

"Thanks, how much do we owe you?"

"Don't worry, consider it a gift for a regular customer," Mary smiled warmly and handed the bag to the girl.

At that moment, someone shoved Amanda hard from the side. With a quiet cry, the younger girl fell onto the dusty ground, and the precious bag flew out of her hands. Looking up, she saw a teenage drake who was already catching her purchase.

"Get away from her!" Louie's voice thundered. He stepped between his sister and the offender, and such cold anger burned in his eyes that the latter involuntarily stepped back. The eldest immediately recognized the attacker.

"Nolan! I believe I warned you!" Ethan barked, running up to his brother.

"Oh, the babies came running to help their little sister. How sweet!" the teenager laughed mockingly. His laughter only added fuel to the fire.

"Give back the bag!" Louie ordered. Even though Nolan was a head taller, the duckling was ready to lunge at him.

"And what if I don't? What will you do?" the teenager roughly shoved Ethan, who was trying to grab the bag.

Louie was already winding up for a punch, but then Nolan jumped back with a cry, dropping the berries. The ducklings stared at him in astonishment. Gerald was sitting at his feet, baring his tiny teeth.

"Ow, what is this rat?!" Nolan exclaimed, winding up for a kick, but the creature, nimbly grabbing the bag, darted over to Amanda. Now the Balcoms were the ones laughing.

"Outsmarted by a 'rat.' How does it feel?" Ethan drawled sarcastically.

"You…! Don't think you've won. The day will come when you'll all regret this!" the enraged Nolan hissed and, throwing a furious glance at them, scurried away.

"Who was that, anyway? How do you know him?" Louie asked, helping his sister up.

"Nolan, son of John Fang. Our families have been feuding for centuries. Strange you didn't know that yet," Ethan snorted. Louie just shrugged.

"I don't know that much about your world yet."

---

"So, Louie, eat three. It should help," Amanda said softly but insistently. The eldest obediently swallowed the wrinkled berries.

After sitting with his family for a few minutes in the cozy living room, the duckling felt his body filling with a pleasant heaviness and his consciousness beginning to drift away. He yawned loudly and silently.

"Whoa, you were right, it works… I think I'll go lie down," Louie mumbled, his speech slurring.

"Good night!" the twins wished him in unison. The eldest, barely staying on his feet, waved at them and shuffled off to his room.

"Do you think he'll make it through the night okay?" Ethan asked his sister quietly.

"I hope so… Louie looks awful. Seems like he really misses his other family…"

"In all ten years of living with you, I never got used to seeing you compassionate. You were always such a brat," the older twin joked. Amanda poked him lightly in the side.

"Oh, look who's talking. You tried to sell me when we were five!"

"Yeah, but no one wanted you," Ethan grinned. The twins laughed quietly, afraid to disturb their finally sleeping brother.

The Balcom ducklings, despite all the strife, loved each other. They could no longer imagine life without this small, strange, but real family of theirs. And at that moment, in the silence of the gloomy island, that was enough.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Louie woke up with an unfamiliar feeling—the sensation of deep, truly peaceful sleep. The twins had been right: the sleep-berries didn't just send him into the arms of Morpheus; they also slammed the door shut on Fred and those nightmares. For a duckling whose nights had often been a battlefield, one calm night was a priceless gift.

Stretching with pleasure, Louie slowly got out of bed. His body felt obedient and full of energy, yet his internal clock, despite everything, still woke him at five in the morning. The boy was lazy by nature, and even several months of a strict routine hadn't made waking up early desirable. Only Sunday granted the ducklings the mercy of sleeping until noon—it was their sacred, inviolable day off.

"Hello, new, ordinary day…" Louie said, yawning at the mirror and trying to tidy up his unruly, overnight-mussed feathers.

Out of habit, the green-eyed duck went to the closet and took out the treasured photograph. The family picture had become a kind of morning ritual. A strange, unreadable grimace froze on his young face—not quite embarrassment, not quite sadness, not quite complete indifference. The corners of his beak twitched into a smirk as he remembered what day it was. "Day Without Brothers." A holiday that Webby had once invented, and they, the triplets, had agreed to celebrate it once a year. But for Louie, this tradition had faded and lost its meaning. Every day for him now was a "day without brothers."

An uncertain but warm smile crept across the duckling's face, and his soul felt light from the flood of memories. At that moment, a sharp, burning pain suddenly flared up in his right hand. Louie cried out and dropped the photo. Pulling up his pajama sleeve, he frantically searched for the source of the pain, but everything was as usual.

The child's gaze fell on the "tattoo"—the only mystery on his body. Of course, his father had given him some explanation, but it had only raised new questions. The twins, whom he had asked, knew little more than he did.

The green duckling cautiously touched the mysterious design with his left hand. Nothing. No heat, no tingling. Gradually, his muscles relaxed. So what was that? A momentary spasm? Deciding not to pay attention to the quickly fading pain, Louie brushed it off. After all, in a villain's life, stranger things happened.

Hiding the photograph back in its secret corner, the duckling sighed heavily and reached for his uniform. After getting dressed, he glanced at the closet door, his hand instinctively reaching for it, but he sharply pulled himself back. Thinking for a second, Louie resolutely headed for the bedroom door instead. As if on command, the twins appeared from the adjacent rooms.

"Good morning," Amanda greeted, her voice still sweet with sleep. She flopped onto the sofa, making herself comfortable.

"Morning, what are the plans for today?" Louie perked up, sitting down next to her.

"Work, work, and more work. The endless routine of the heirs to great villains," Ethan pronounced with feigned importance and a slight mockery in his voice.

There were still a few minutes left before classes started, and the ducklings gladly seized the opportunity to chat. The children got so carried away they didn't notice the time passing. Louie suddenly jumped up from the sofa, his abrupt movement making the twins flinch.

"Okay, I gotta go! Emily's probably waiting," the eldest threw out, heading for the exit, but exclamations from his relatives stopped him halfway.

"Oh, Emily... Yes, run, run! Charm her, brother!" the younger one sang playfully, her beak spreading into a sly grin. Louie sighed irritably and turned to the two widely smiling faces.

"Leave me alone, we're just friends!" the heir blurted out, and his voice, embarrassed and annoyed, gave him away completely. The twins tilted their heads in sync, studying their brother's flushed face.

"Yeah, right. It shows," Ethan drawled skeptically.

The children burst out laughing together while their half-brother looked at them with feigned displeasure. Leaving the room, Louie rolled his eyes in irritation.

---

"Here, this should help you, Gerald!" Amanda proclaimed cheerfully, flying into the room. Her advisor wasn't there yet, which the girl was only glad about.

The green-eyed girl quickly found a small first-aid kit on the shelf and began rummaging through it. She pulled out a sterile bandage and carefully placed the jerboa on the table.

The bandaging was clumsy, but Amanda tried her hardest. Glancing at the rodent, who was curiously examining his new "clothes," the little girl gently stroked his head.

"Don't worry, you'll get better soon. Though, I don't know if I can give you pills, so I'm not sure about painkillers—"

"Who do we have here?" a soft, familiar voice sounded behind the girl. Amanda flinched and turned to meet the gaze of her advisor.

"Ah, Rain... It's... nobody..." the little girl muttered sheepishly, grabbing Gerald with one hand and hiding him behind her back.

"Are you sure?" the duckling asked, and his voice held nothing but kind curiosity.

Amanda didn't want to lie to him. Rain was her first and, perhaps, most loyal friend. Despite his family's open dislike for the Balcoms, he had always treated the heiress with unwavering kindness. She trusted him with almost all her secrets. And this time, Amanda decided to be honest. She pulled the jerboa out from behind her back.

"Um... This is Gerald. We found him with my brothers on the Continent of Evil. No one wanted to be friends with him because of his broken wing. And Lo... Fred allowed us to keep him and nurse him back to health!"

Rain looked carefully at the little animal, and his eyes softened even more.

"He's adorable. But I think the wing isn't bandaged quite right. May I?" the duckling gently held out his hands. Amanda, without hesitation, entrusted her charge to him.

The advisor sat the rodent on the table, carefully unwound the bandage, and reapplied it with confident movements. Amanda watched his actions closely the whole time.

"Oh, that's much better! Thank you!"

"Force of habit. I've had to bandage you up often enough," Rain smiled, returning Gerald.

"Hmm, did I get hurt that often?" the girl squinted, putting the jerboa away in a safe place.

"For a regular child—more than enough," the advisor joked, and Amanda laughed.

"Well, I don't think children of great villains can be squeezed into the framework of 'normality.'"

"And I don't see much difference. Maybe you're richer, but, surprisingly, not spoiled at all. You've become much calmer since Fred appeared," Rain's voice grew quieter and more thoughtful.

"Oh, yes, Fred. The lovesick fool. He really has changed us!"

"In what sense 'lovesick'?" Rain became alert. Amanda turned to him.

"Oh, he's head over heels for your sister!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's so obvious! Although... maybe I shouldn't have said that..." the girl's gaze fixed on the advisor's surprised face. But he suddenly brightened up, and his beak broke into a sincere smile.

"What? Why? That's wonderful!"

"It is? I thought... I figured if your brother found out, Fred would be in trouble."

"That's true. But where can he go? If Emily likes Fred."

"What?! This is a ready-made soap opera!" the heiress thought for a second, staring at the floor. Then she smirked slyly and resolutely pulled her friend's hand towards the exit, "We should tell them! Let's go!"

"I think they should figure it out themselves," Rain gently stopped her. Amanda snorted and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Fiiine, maybe you're right…"

---

Louie entered the common room, examining the amulet they'd found the day before on the way. He had completely forgotten to give it to the twins.

He found his brother and sister on the sofa. As soon as the heir appeared in the doorway, their lively whispering ceased, and identical conspiratorial smiles bloomed on their faces.

"So, how did it go? Everything alright?" the ducklings asked almost in unison.

The younger ones' laughter confused Louie, and he stopped in front of the sofa, frowning.

"Um, yes? Was something supposed to happen?"

"Oh, no, no, no. Just showing we care," the twins exchanged glances again and laughed.

"You're weirder than usual today…"

"You only just noticed?" Ethan quipped sarcastically, and the room filled with laughter again.

Louie sighed irritably, feeling like an outsider in some game he didn't understand. He tossed the amulet to his sister and, without a word, returned to his room. The duckling flopped onto the bed, his thoughts tangled and swarming in his head. Memories of the triplets, the twins' strange behavior… It all merged into one anxious hum.

Louie would have lain there for who knows how long, but suddenly the bracelet on his wrist vibrated softly, notifying him of a new message. Reluctantly, the boy opened the text, causing his eyes to widen in slight surprise. His father was asking him to come immediately. As if scalded, the duckling jumped off the bed and rushed out through the common room.

"Louie? Where are you rushing off to?" Amanda called out, perplexed. The eldest skidded to a halt at the doorway.

"Huh? Father summoned me to his office. What, just me?" the heir's reply made his brother and sister slump.

"Not me…"

"Or me…"

"Oh… Okay, I'll tell you everything later! Bye!" Louie waved his hand and left the saddened twins alone with their thoughts.

"I told you he's the favorite!" Ethan snorted and plopped onto the sofa with force.

"We don't know why Father called just him," Amanda tried to calm both her twin and herself, but uncertainty was audible in her voice.

The children clearly felt that their father favored the eldest, and deep down, a lump of resentment and envy was growing. All their lives, they had tried to impress Derek, suppressing their own desires. If he ordered them to plunge a dagger into their own hearts, they would do it without a second thought. After all, the lot of good children was to be unconditionally obedient.

"What if he names him the sole heir?" the older twin whispered fearfully.

"I don't think so. Father loves us all equally, I'm sure!.." Amanda tried to convince her brother, but there was more hope than certainty in her words.

---

On the way to his father's office, Louie feverishly tried to guess the reason for the summons. Usually, Derek gathered all three of them for tasks or praise. An individual summons could mean anything. The villain never raised his voice at the children, but any conversation with him made the ducklings internally tense up. At the same time, they trusted their father implicitly and didn't expect any tricks from him. A parent always wants only the best for their child, right?

Louie interrupted his train of thought as he stood before the heavy office door. He raised his hand to knock but froze for a second. Taking a deep breath, the duckling finally knocked.

"Father, you called?" the boy rattled off, entering. He approached Derek with a confident stride. The latter met his son with a warm, lively smile; his face, as always, radiated calm.

"You're very quick, Fred, that's commendable!" the drake placed a hand on Louie's shoulder. The boy gave a hesitant smirk in return.

"Thanks... Is something wrong?"

"Hmm, can't I just talk with my son?" Derek smiled softly and winked. Louie became even more embarrassed.

"No, it's fine, just... unexpected."

"Well, you're right, you're quite sharp. How about the idea of forming an alliance with a certain influential villainous organization? You'll come with me," Derek's voice was smooth and soothing, like warm silk. The drake looked carefully at his confused son.

"Yeah, sounds cool! But... what about the twins? Aren't they coming?"

The villain paused for a second, but then his smile widened even further.

"This time, I need the eldest son specifically. Besides, it's been a long time since we've talked alone. Don't you think?"

"Yeah, of course... I'm just a bit worried about them..." Louie muttered with annoyance. The drake removed his hand from his shoulder.

"Don't worry, they'll be perfectly fine. Here on the island, you're safe from any threat."

The duckling wanted to object that it wasn't about danger but about their feelings, but decided not to press the issue. He raised his green, emerald-like eyes to his father. The villain affectionately ruffled his bangs. A pleasant warmth spread through Louie's body—he had missed these simple, parental gestures so much. After all these years, he finally had a father. A real father.

"So, what do you know about F.O.W.L., kiddo?" Derek asked. Louie flinched, forcing his brain to work feverishly.

"Almost nothing... Mom told me something, I think, but I don't remember..."

At the mention of Della, the boy involuntarily looked down, and a shadow of doubt crossed his face. Derek noticed it. A flicker of seriousness passed through the drake's eyes but was immediately replaced by his usual warm smile. He laughed and hugged his son by the shoulders. Louie returned the hug, feeling a surge of love and a strange, soul-chilling cold simultaneously. His mother's hugs were different—infinitely warm and soft. Louie missed the Ducks but fiercely told himself he hated them.

"Now I understand why Della said you're the spitting image of me. You're my real copy," the drake looked down at his son, and his eyes gleamed. Louie's breath caught.

"W-what? She said that?" the child's voice trembled with suppressed emotion. He adored his father, and hearing that he resembled him was the greatest reward. But didn't the Ducks think Derek was bad? So, in their opinion, Louie was the same? He desperately didn't want to believe it, but his father couldn't lie!

"You look upset. What's wrong?" Of course, Derek read his son's doubts perfectly, but he needed to see this through.

"No, nothing... just... never mind..."

A sly smirk touched the drake's beak, but as soon as Louie looked up at him, his father's face was serene and loving again.

"Well, do you still want to keep me company?"

"Yes, of course..."

---

A few hours later, the Balcoms were at F.O.W.L. headquarters. Throughout the journey, Derek educated his son about the organization, and the duckling hung on his every word, bombarding him with questions.

Getting off the plane, Louie was momentarily blinded. How long had it been since he'd seen real sunlight! The bright light felt more pleasant to him than the sight of the huge, old, fortress-like building surrounded by a high fence. Staying close to his father, the duckling looked around curiously. He didn't know exactly where they were, but the hot air and endless sands spoke for themselves.

Father and son entered inside, where they were met by local guards. Louie instinctively shrank, but Derek gently nudged him forward, and the villain's reassuring smile gave the boy courage. They proceeded to a spacious hall where Louie saw a familiar face—an old vulture. His memory told him their paths had crossed before.

"Bradford, we're here regarding our potential alliance," the drake's voice was even, but steel could be felt in it. The child, however, couldn't take his eyes off the vulture.

"Derek, you're early."

"Decided not to postpone, I hope it's not a problem?"

"A-ah, Bradford! You're the one who works for uncle Scrooge!" the words burst out of the boy. The gazes of those present turned to him, making the heir's heart skip a beat. But another question concerned him more. What was Bradford doing here? The vulture stared at the duckling with unconcealed astonishment and anger.

"You... one of the Duck kids! What are you doing here?"

"I, um... I…"

"This is my son. I brought him with me," Derek intervened, taking a protective stance in front of Louie. His hands rested on the frightened child's shoulders as Bradford shifted his bewildered gaze to the drake.

"He's from the Duck family! What the devil were you thinking?" the vulture hissed.

"Fully aware. His name is Frederick, and his mother is Della Duck. We've met before."

A heavy silence hung in the air. The eyes of the three expressed different emotions: Louie's held sharp fear, Bradford's held cold distrust and bewilderment, and Derek's held restrained irritation.

"Well, fine. But if he breathes a word to the McDucks, I won't care about your status, Derek!" Bradford concluded, and his icy tone sent a chill down Louie's spine.

"Don't worry, they don't speak anymore."

It was obvious the vulture didn't believe a single word, but he didn't argue.

At the negotiation table, Louie tried his best to listen carefully to his father and the F.O.W.L. representative. The boy was bored to death, but he sat with a stony face, trying to live up to the title of heir to a great villain.

Suddenly, his right wrist flared up with hellish pain again. The sensation was similar to the morning's, but now it was many times stronger. The duckling's features contorted. He clenched his beak, trying to hold back a groan, but cold sweat was already streaming down his temples. Gripping his wrist with his left hand, the heir wheezed quietly, trying not to attract attention. The pain was unbearable.

"Fred, is something wrong?" Derek said softly but warily. Louie forced a pale smile.

"C-can I be excused? To the restroom… Where is it?"

"Straight down the hall, to the left. Don't be long," Bradford grunted, and the boy, nearly tripping, rushed for the exit.

It was exactly as they'd said. Louie burst into the empty restroom, tore off his glove, and rolled up his sleeve. Nothing new! The mysterious mark was still just a design on his feathers, but the pain was already receding, leaving behind a faint, pulsing echo. The duckling leaned his forehead against the cool wall, trying to catch his breath.

When the burning finally subsided, Louie adjusted his clothes. Glancing in the mirror, he froze: his reflection was staring back at him with a strange, angry glare, while his own face expressed only fright and confusion. The green-eyed duck ran out, away from this silent nightmare.

Louie was about to return to his father when he suddenly noticed a slightly ajar door at the end of the corridor, from under which a sinister red light seeped. Curiosity overpowered caution. The boy pushed the door open and timidly peered inside.

The room was cluttered with crates, and in the center stood a table piled with folders. Louie moved closer and took the top one. An icy shiver ran down his spine when he saw a photograph of his friend, Webby. His hands trembled.

"'Project April'… What is this?" Louie wanted to open the file but heard footsteps and voices outside the door. Panicking, afraid of bringing trouble upon himself and his father, he threw the folder back and ducked behind a pile of crates, mentally kicking himself for this mistake. The answers were so close!

"Ugh, I have to do everything myself!" a woman who entered exclaimed irritably. Louie peeked out from his hiding place and recognized her with horror by her mechanical arm. Black Heron.

The duckling's heart beat in a frantic rhythm. He imagined the worst possible consequences of his discovery. Trying not to breathe, the boy froze, afraid to make the slightest sound. Heron didn't seem to be leaving, and Louie was trapped.

While the villainess sorted through the papers, the duckling desperately looked for an escape route. Plotting a path, he tiptoed, sneaking behind the crates, towards the exit. Every step seemed incredibly loud. Several times the heir almost knocked over some junk, but fortunately, the woman didn't hear anything. And now, the exit was close, but he had to cross an open space. Glancing at Heron, he saw she was engrossed in the documents.

"Going!" raced through his head. Rising from his knees, he prepared to dash. His legs felt like lead from fear, but it didn't stop the young villain.

One step, another… And at that moment, someone else entered the room. Louie recoiled in horror, hitting his elbow on the edge of a crate. A sharp pain shot through his arm, and the child barely suppressed a cry, sinking his beak into his own hand to muffle it. Looking up, he saw a rooster with an iron beak.

"Just great…" flashed through his mind. The adults immediately started arguing, and their dispute distracted them from everything else for a while.

Seizing the moment, Louie shot out of the room like an arrow. In the corridor, he leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath. Realizing how long he'd been gone, the green-eyed duck rushed back to his father, inventing excuses on the way. Returning to the negotiation hall, he sank into his chair.

"Fred, you were gone quite a while. Everything alright?" Derek asked with concern.

"Yeah, yeah, everything's fine! Just… stomach ache," Louie lied, avoiding his father's gaze.

Bradford looked at him with unconcealed suspicion. But Louie had other concerns—his thoughts were occupied with "Project April." He didn't dare ask directly, but anxiety gnawed at him from the inside. The boy felt—something was wrong here.

An hour later, Derek noticed his son was falling asleep on his feet and announced their return to the Continent of Evil. Louie sighed with relief: finally, he would leave this place where everyone looked at him like an enemy.

On the plane, the heir mustered his courage and asked the question that had been haunting him.

"Father, tell me… Is F.O.W.L. somehow connected to the Ducks?"

"They're enemies, Fred. Why?" Derek's face became impassive, like a mask.

"It's just… They looked at me with such hatred, like I personally did something to them…" the duckling decided to omit the folder about Webby. He wasn't sure his father would tell him the truth.

"Ah, that. Don't pay attention, they'll get used to it!" Derek affectionately ruffled his feathers again, and the gesture calmed Louie.

"They… they won't harm the Ducks, will they?.." the boy's voice became quiet. The drake smiled sincerely.

"Of course not!"

This answer soothed Louie's conscience a little, and he didn't ask any more questions. He wanted to ask his father a hundred more things, but for some inexplicable reason, he was afraid to.

---

Returning to the common room, the eldest found the twins in a gloomy mood. It was late at night, and Louie was surprised they weren't asleep.

"And where have you been for seven hours?!" Amanda asked reproachfully, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Ugh, at F.O.W.L. headquarters. Felt like the ultimate outcast, since they know perfectly well who I really am!" Louie blurted out irritably, plopping onto the sofa.

"A-and why didn't they take us?" Ethan asked quietly, with resentment, nervously fiddling with the edge of his shirt.

"I don't know…"

"You're lucky, you get to spend time with Father. I'd give anything to be in your place," the younger one said sadly, leaning back against the sofa cushions.

"Yeah, well… I found a file there about my friend. I'm sure they're planning something against her! But Father said F.O.W.L. wouldn't harm the Ducks. He wouldn't lie to us, would he?" Louie's voice became uncertain. The eldest looked at the twins, seeking support.

"Father never lies! Especially to us!" Ethan exclaimed fervently. Amanda immediately agreed with him, and it somewhat reassured Louie. He was still worried about his former family. Maybe they considered him a traitor, but, although the duckling wouldn't even admit it to himself, he still loved them.

"Well, let's add another question to our already long list," Louie muttered tiredly.

"So far, it's only growing, and the answers are few and far between," Ethan stated sadly, stretching out beside him.

"We'll figure it all out, we're the Balcoms! The family of the strongest villains in the whole world!" Amanda exclaimed with eyes burning with enthusiasm. The brothers couldn't help but smile at her infectious confidence and nodded. They were proud of their family name, knowing it inspired envy and fear in many.

The children talked until sleep began to close their eyelids. Unnoticed by themselves, they fell asleep, huddled together in a cozy pile and holding hands. In the company of the twins, Louie felt he was in his place, unafraid that his plans or "evil intentions" would scare anyone. Here, among his own, he could finally just be himself.

Chapter Text

The ducklings did not relent in their rigorous training, constantly dedicating their lessons to Louie. The eldest chick, though making visible progress and demonstrating increasingly confident movements with each session, was still noticeably lagging behind the twins' virtuoso synchronicity. His body was covered in fresh bruises, and scrapes adorned the boy here and there, barely having time to replace one another. However, when his younger brother and sister finally felt genuine love and began treating him with sweet kindness, the weight on Louie's shoulders became noticeably lighter.

As the days passed, the trio seemed to only grow stronger in their mutual affection. The constant teasing and barbs, once used as weapons, had now become mere background noise to their communication, a familiar and even endearing game, incapable of overshadowing the growing warmth between them. Many long months had passed, and the heirs still couldn't quite believe in this new reality where they lived in peace and harmony. Everything around them seemed like a magical fairy tale, an amazing dream where only kindness and understanding reigned.

For most of their previous lives, the twins had barely communicated with each other, except for those countless moments when their dialogue turned into a fierce argument. And now they couldn't even imagine the bitter fate of being an only child, even though that was exactly what they had passionately dreamed of for all ten years they had spent side-by-side in quiet opposition.

Louie, for his part, struggled to comprehend how long he had remained in blissful ignorance, unaware that his younger brother and sister had been growing up right beside him all that time. Accustomed to the purely male company of his triplets, he simply didn't know how to behave around a girl. Finding common ground with Ethan was easier—they were united by a shared boyish energy. But Amanda was a completely different, mysterious creature.

In early childhood, Louie had sometimes allowed himself to fantasize about having a little sister. But the thought had never sparked any enthusiasm in him. In his young mind, all girls were creatures from another planet, whose interests were limited to playing with dolls and endless, incredibly boring tea parties. However, upon getting to know Amanda better, the boy discovered to his astonishment just how mistaken he had been. The little girl turned out to be cheerful, resourceful, surprisingly caring, and truly kind-hearted, although at first, from their tense initial meeting, Louie couldn't have imagined such an angel hidden beneath her prickly exterior.

The young villain still couldn't fully grasp how the twins managed to pretend to be "bad" so skillfully and convincingly. He knew their true faces—not evil, not thirsting for absolute power, not cruel, but understanding, responsive, and in their own way, sweet children, bound by the weight of others' expectations.

Louie was aware that life without these two restless ducklings would be empty, joyless, and simply impossible for him. Despite this, a longing for his birth brothers still smoldered in the depths of his heart, but along with it grew a bitter resentment towards them, eating away at his soul like rust.

---

Pacing through the endless, labyrinth-like corridors of their vast estate, the green-eyed duckling searched for his brother or sister with worried eyes. Not finding them at breakfast in the morning and not discovering them in their rooms, the boy grew seriously concerned, and when the twins stopped answering his persistent calls, panic gripped him. He rushed through familiar and unfamiliar halls until, at one of the turns, he ran into his friend, literally bumping into her at the entrance to a room, causing her to lose her balance and fall to the floor.

"Oops, sorry, I didn't see you!" Louie said in a soft voice, immediately offering a hand to help Emily up.

"It's alright," the advisor replied, accepting his help with a slight smile and immediately catching the worry frozen on his face. "Is something wrong? You look lost."

"I can't find Amanda and Ethan anywhere! They've disappeared, and they're not answering my calls!" the eldest blurted out, barely catching his breath.

Emily froze for a moment, giving him a puzzled, studying look, as if trying to figure something out.

"Hmm, Louie, don't you remember? I think they're supposed to be in that hall further down this corridor, left around the corner."

"Thank you so much, I'll check right away," the green-eyed duckling rattled off, not dwelling on her strange phrase. What exactly couldn't he remember? The thought flashed and vanished, displaced by the sole goal of finding his siblings as soon as possible.

Running a little further, the duckling found himself at the required door. Just as he was about to enter, loud, irritated exclamations reached his ears. Carefully, silently pushing the door ajar, Louie slipped stealthily into the room.

"There's only one week left! You're not even trying, you're not interested in doing this at all!" Amanda was shouting with unconcealed indignation, staring at her twin. He, in turn, looked utterly detached and indifferent. Ethan stood proudly with his arms crossed over his chest, rolling his eyes with exaggerated indifference and occasionally snorting irritably.

"Or maybe you're the one with comprehension problems?!"

Their verbal spat was on the verge of escalating into a real scuffle, but the older brother intervened in time, stepping decisively between them and spreading the hot-tempered arguers apart with his outstretched hands.

"STOP! Cease immediately! What is going on here?!" Louie finally exhaled, barely containing his own emotions.

The twins, delighted at the chance to vent their pent-up frustrations, began eagerly laying out their versions of events, each one categorically contradicting the other. The former Duck looked back and forth between the ruffled chicks in confusion, unable to make out a single word in the chaos.

"Enough! Speak one at a time!" Louie ordered, and his voice held notes of genuine authority.

"Tell him to start trying at least a little!" Amanda blurted out, throwing a withering, indignant look at her blood brother.

"It's always my fault with you!" Ethan immediately parried, adopting a defensive posture.

Once again, the hall echoed with a duet of loud shouts, which were starting to seriously get on Louie's nerves.

"That's it! Both of you, sit down, now!" the heir commanded, gently pushing both towards a nearby bench. The twins, surprised by such decisive behavior from their usually softer brother, didn't dare disobey. The green-eyed duckling took a deep breath and ordered Amanda to start and explain what had led to such a heated argument.

"I just asked Ethan to take the dance a bit more seriously! As if I immensely enjoy doing it myself!" the girl exhaled, throwing another look at her brother.

"If you don't like it, you shouldn't even start!" the older twin couldn't resist a jab.

"It's not my decision, and you know that perfectly well!"

"Wait a minute," Louie's voice became a bit calmer, though he still vigilantly watched every movement of his brother and sister, ready to separate them again at any moment, "What dance? What are you even talking about?"

"Ugh, that stupid twins' waltz," Ethan grumbled with genuine annoyance in his voice, "It's this ancient and unbreakable tradition: if twins are born into a family, upon reaching eleven years old, they are obliged to perform a special dance before all the gathered guests."

"Exactly! And Ethan doesn't even want to learn it properly! When we were rehearsing, he dropped me on purpose!" Amanda exclaimed with a fresh surge of emotion.

"That was a complete accident! I didn't do it on purpose!" the heir drawled with a clear note of sarcasm.

"Yeah, right, I totally believe you... Wait, Louie," Amanda suddenly fixed the older brother with a suspicious look, and Ethan followed suit, "you haven't forgotten about our birthday, have you?"

The young villain froze in place, his eyes involuntarily widening. He let out a confused, almost unnatural chuckle, trying to soften the situation and buy a second to think.

"Of course not... How could anyone forget that?" Louie lied, while only one panicked thought raced through his head: "God, I really hadn't thought about it at all!" Amanda squinted distrustfully, but her anger at her twin currently outweighed her slight irritation with the older brother.

"Anyway, order him to at least try a little!"

In response to his sister's shout, Ethan defiantly stuck his tongue out at her, well aware that Louie wouldn't use his position to give such orders. Although an unshakable law existed on the Continent of Evil stating that younger heirs must unquestioningly obey the eldest in everything, the Balcom family tried not to follow this rule blindly. Sure, Louie sometimes enjoyed the opportunity to order something, but he never abused this power, and the twins, sensing this, usually complied with his requests without extra reminders.

"Alright, listen to my verdict," the former Duck announced, adopting the demeanor of a wise judge, "Ethan, you will do what your sister asks and try to be more careful. And you, Amanda, will listen to his opinion and try to be softer. And for heaven's sake, please don't fight, don't argue over trifles, and don't shout at each other!" he proclaimed. The younger ones reluctantly nodded, demonstrating their agreement. Assured that the children no longer burned with the desire to destroy each other, the eldest prepared to leave.

"Wait," Amanda called out to him in a quiet, almost uncertain voice, "Won't you watch how we're doing?"

Turning back to his family, Louie saw two pairs of large, green, and now childishly sad eyes looking at him hopefully.

"Absolutely, as soon as you get a little better!" Louie hastily promised, "But right now... I really have to go... do... my work!" And with those words, the boy rushed for the exit, while the twins exchanged doubtful glances.

Once in the corridor, the duckling practically ran to his bedroom. He had indeed completely forgotten about the twins' upcoming birthday, consumed by his own worries and thoughts. A terrible, oppressive feeling of guilt settled deep in his chest, but fortunately, he still had a whole week left.

Procuring a gift itself wouldn't be a problem for Louie, but what to give them? This question haunted him all the way to his room. Crossing the threshold of the common hall, he scanned the space with an anxious gaze, as if hoping to find answers among the familiar objects. His gaze stopped on the door leading to his sister's room. He didn't want to rummage through the twins' personal belongings—that would be a betrayal of their trust—but he desperately hoped to give them something truly valuable.

Louie placed his palm on the scanner to enter Amanda's bedroom. The children had once exchanged fingerprints to have access to each other's rooms in case of extreme necessity, giving their honest word to use this privilege wisely and only in the most important situations.

The metal door slid silently aside, and Louie, feeling a slight pang of guilt, stepped over the threshold. He moved cautiously, almost on tiptoe, carefully examining the shelves and surfaces in search of any clue. Finally, the boy approached the desk, cluttered with all sorts of witchcraft attributes and heavy books.

His attention was drawn to an elegant box adorned with colorful beads that shimmered in the light. Opening it slightly, Louie immediately squinted from the bright, blinding light that burst forth. He had deliberately not turned on the main light in the room, hoping to remain unnoticed, and now his eyes hurt especially badly. Gradually adjusting, the child examined the contents and, picking up one of the sparkling substances, carefully held it in his hands.

"That's it! Moon crystals! They need three more, if I'm not mistaken, right?" Louie whispered to himself. Finally, an idea for the perfect gift had formed in his head, but immediately a new problem arose as if from nowhere. Where, exactly, could he find these crystals?

The boy pondered, but suddenly his gaze fell on a tall shelf, almost reaching the ceiling, filled with heavy volumes. Confident he could find the necessary information there, Louie reached for them, but alas, his height was categorically insufficient. Not giving up, the duckling began jumping up and down in a vain hope to grab at least one of the books.

"Ugh, how does Amanda even reach them herself?" the child hissed in frustration.

Even standing on a chair, Louie still couldn't reach the coveted books. Only one option remained, which he had been reluctant to resort to until the last moment, but he understood he had no other choice.

The duckling jumped off the chair and tightly closed his eyes, trying to focus his mind on one specific volume. He visualized it mentally and slowly stretched his hand forward and slightly upward, taking a calm, deep exhale. Louie stood like that for several seconds, and at first nothing happened, which had already begun to sow disappointment in him, but suddenly a thin, barely noticeable stream of magical energy shot from his palm. It was weak, uncertain, but it was enough to dislodge the book from its place.

Reluctantly, the children still periodically practiced using their newfound power. The twins were much better at it, especially Amanda. Of course, everyone understood perfectly well that their success was largely due to genetics. The ducklings' mother was a powerful sorceress, and the girl had inherited her abilities to a much greater extent than her twin brother. It also mattered that Amanda studied tons of books on magic and the occult, while Ethan considered such pastime a "useless waste of time." He preferred to act quickly, decisively, and sometimes carelessly, which often infuriated his sister.

Louie, however, still felt an inexplicable, cold fear of his "dark" half, Fred, lurking in the depths of his consciousness. Although Amanda assured the eldest that his body would only be taken over by the evil persona during a powerful, uncontrolled surge of magic, the duckling still didn't risk using magic unnecessarily, employing it only in the most extreme cases and in minimal amounts. Despite this, he sometimes managed quite well, which the heir couldn't help but feel proud of deep down.

The child was already ready to smile at the realization of his small victory when his right hand was once again pierced by the familiar, sharp pain, like a burn. He flinched sharply and let out a choked cry. Instead of the heavy book, a small, neat notebook fell on his head. Louie picked it up, rubbing his still-tingling wrist. The pain was gradually receding, and the green-eyed duck, dismissing the unpleasant sensations, began feverishly flipping through the pages filled with his sister's handwriting.

Finally, the boy's gaze fell on the long-awaited heading: "Moon Crystals." The duckling began reading the text attentively. Amanda's handwriting was surprisingly legible and elegant, so the child had no trouble deciphering it.

However, upon reading the location of one of the crystals, a real wave of despair washed over Louie. Of course, the precious stone was in Duckburg. And, quite predictably, in Uncle Scrooge's impregnable mansion—that very place where, it seemed, almost all artifacts from around the world were collected. And the strangest thing was that Amanda, apparently, knew about this, but for some reason hadn't shared this information with her brother.

Louie sighed heavily, hopelessly. He understood perfectly well how important this was for the twins, but what if he was recognized in Duckburg? Although the duckling hadn't seen the evil persona for over a week, the soul-chilling fear, fueled by nightmares, didn't allow him to forget about the Ducks for a second. Why hadn't his sister shown him these notes earlier?

Louie found no answers to his questions in the notebook. He faced a difficult choice: either risk it and go to Duckburg, or leave the twins without the desired moon crystal. The duckling clutched his head, trying to collect his thoughts and make the right decision. On one hand, he was literally paralyzed by fear; on the other, he saw before him the shining, happy faces of Ethan and Amanda receiving such a long-awaited gift.

"I'm definitely going to regret this..." Louie whispered quietly, almost under his breath, and shot out of his sister's room like a bullet. In his own bedroom, he hastily pulled a black hoodie out of the closet and pulled it on. Hiding his expressive green eyes behind dark glasses, he paused for a moment in front of the mirror, casting a sad, doubtful look at his reflection, and stepped firmly out the door.

---

A couple of hours later, Louie was already wandering through the painfully familiar streets of his hometown. A warm, pleasant feeling of nostalgia stirred within him, but he immediately suppressed it, trying not to catch the eye of the numerous passersby. As if on purpose, the streets were incredibly busy.

Louie was afraid of running into someone he knew who might recognize him beneath this improvised disguise. The chances were slim, but he couldn't risk it under any circumstances. Turning onto a familiar, quiet street, the boy chose a path through the forest adjacent to the mansion—longer, but much less crowded.

Louie walked along a deserted, overgrown path. The fresh scent of pine needles and damp earth filled his beak, and warm rays of sunlight, which he hadn't seen in such abundance for an eternity, filtered through the foliage. The surrounding nature breathed life and serenity, and he desperately wanted to stay here, forgetting everything, but the duckling firmly stuck to his goal.

Suddenly, loud, cheerful voices reached the heir, and, catching a glimpse of a group of children ahead, Louie instinctively dove into the nearest bushes, holding his breath and listening intently.

Through the dense foliage, the green-eyed duck easily recognized his older brother. A brief, involuntary, warm smile flickered across the runaway's face, but catching himself, he immediately made his expression impassive. Huey was dressed in his full Junior Woodchucks uniform, like all the other kids in the troop. They were animatedly discussing something, setting up tents and preparing to light a campfire.

"Darn it, what a route I chose..." Louie hissed quietly in frustration, scolding himself for such a blunder.

However, remembering that today was precisely the day Huey wouldn't be home until the next morning, a desperate plan immediately formed in his head. The duckling took another look at his carefreely laughing brother. "Does he miss me even a little?" flashed through Louie's mind, and this time his face was clouded by genuine, deep sadness.

Turning around quietly and with extreme care, the heir made a wide arc, bypassing the Woodchucks' camp, and strode confidently towards the mansion. The easiest part was behind him—he had reached his former home—but the main problem remained unsolved: how to find the coveted crystal in this incredibly huge, palace-like building?

Louie easily vaulted over the low fence and, crouching, ran across the spacious, well-kept garden. Reaching the mansion walls, he chose the side where the windows of his old room were located. Taking a heavy sigh, as if gathering his courage, the green-eyed duck began to climb the familiar protrusions; thanks to the twins' rock-climbing lessons, he scaled the windowsill almost effortlessly. Once inside and seeing the meticulously familiar setting, a powerful wave of memories washed over the boy.

There was no time to waste. Louie went to the chest of drawers with old clothes and opened the drawer belonging to Huey. He quickly pulled on his brother's red t-shirt and put his red cap on his head. Approaching the mirror, the runaway carefully adjusted his bangs, trying to copy the older triplet's style.

As children, the triplets loved to play pranks on others, easily pretending to be each other. Their uncle Donald was most often the victim. The perceptive drake, of course, always identified them correctly without fail, but, so as not to upset the children, often pretended to be fooled, which immensely amused his nephews. Others, however, rarely managed to decipher their cunning game, leading to countless funny situations.

Louie hid his own clothes under the bed and, slipping into the role of Huey, was about to leave the room when the door suddenly swung open, and he collided head-on with the second triplet. Losing his balance, the duckling began to fall, but Dewey swiftly grabbed him by the arm, preventing the fall.

Goosebumps ran down Louie's spine. He raised his head, but, remembering his bright, betraying eyes, immediately averted his gaze.

"Huey?" Dewey's voice held genuine surprise mixed with slight confusion, "I thought you wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning..."

"I-I... forgot to take something..." Louie stammered, trying to imitate Huey's voice and manner of speech.

"What exactly?" the blue duckling persisted.

"Oh, just... uh-uh... marshmallows for the campfire..." the young villain forced out with difficulty, feeling his voice treacherously trembling. He hurriedly let go of his brother's hand and tried to slip past him into the corridor, but another obstacle appeared in his path—this time in the form of Webby.

"Oh, Huey, I didn't know you were already here!" the friend exclaimed joyfully, "But that's actually perfect timing! I just found..."

"That's really great, but I'm in a huge hurry right now!" Louie interrupted her, unable to endure this tense dialogue any longer. He literally bolted into the corridor, leaving a stunned Dewey and Webby behind.

"What's with him today?" the girl asked with slight alarm in her voice, turning to her friend, who just shrugged in bewilderment.

"I don't know... Maybe something happened on the camping trip? We'll have to ask later when he gets back."

Louie's heart was pounding in his chest so hard it felt like it might jump out. He had been on the verge of exposure, but to his immense relief, the disguise trick had worked. A smile flickered across his face at the realization of the successfully executed "scheme." He was pleased to know he hadn't been recognized. However, it was too early to relax—he still had to find the moon crystal itself. The mansion was incredibly vast, and the duckling decided to first search all the rooms where Scrooge kept his priceless artifacts.

Louie had already checked five such rooms but found nothing even remotely resembling a moon crystal. He found countless precious stones, glittering nuggets, and exotic minerals, but none of them were it.

The duckling was almost ready to accept defeat, but the happy, shining faces of the twins appeared before his eyes again. He loved seeing their sincere, joyful smiles so much. Because of all the harsh trials and games they had to participate in, Louie more often saw only sadness, anxiety, and fatigue on their faces. Not that it was any easier for him, but deep down the heir felt he had to remain their support, that "big brother" they could rely on.

Having searched another room fruitlessly, Louie stepped out into the corridor and headed for the next one. Suddenly he heard familiar voices coming from behind a slightly ajar door. Listening, the child realized it was his uncle Donald and mom talking. The boy froze by the wall, deciding to listen to their conversation.

"What if we're wrong?" Della said with hope in her voice.

"Della, he's a villain, and you know that perfectly well," Donald replied firmly but without malice.

"Yes, you're right... His whole family is like that. As far as I remember, Derek was even proud of it," the girl said with a bitter sneer, though a hidden sadness seeped into her voice. The adults laughed briefly and joylessly, trying to hide their surging emotions.

Louie involuntarily lowered his head. A strange, contradictory mix of sadness and anger boiled within his soul. He terribly wanted to burst into the room and tell the adults everything he thought, but common sense told him that would be pure madness, and the boy continued to listen as they slandered his second family. Curiosity mixed with resentment held the green-eyed duck in place.

"Still... there's something of them in Louie..." Donald said in a calmer but still sad tone.

These words literally paralyzed Louie. He froze in place, unable to move. On one hand, he was always pleased to find similarities with his father, but hadn't the Ducks just been talking so easily about what a horrible villain he was, and then immediately lumped him, Louie, into the same category? Resentment and burning irritation overwhelmed his mind, and treacherous tears welled up in the corners of his green eyes. The duckling silently recoiled from the door and, wiping them away, shot off down the corridor like a bullet.

"Perhaps... But Louie... he's not like them. He can do bad things, but I know—deep in his soul, he's not evil. And I wish I hadn't scolded him so harshly back then... I just... I just wanted him to... to..." Della's voice trembled and broke, and tears once again rolled down her cheeks like hail. She helplessly tried to wipe them away, but Donald gently hugged his sister, holding her close and patting her back reassuringly.

"Everything will be alright, you know. We just need to find a way to get to that blasted land!"

"I hope we're not too late..." Della whispered, and suddenly her voice took on steely notes, "If anything happens to Louie, I'll personally come and kill Derek!"

The girl's words were spoken with such soul-chilling conviction that there was no doubt—she would keep her promise. Donald gave a bitter smile. He loved Louie like his own son, and the mere thought of the boy suffering drove him crazy.

Meanwhile, the heir, struggling to hold back the lump rising in his throat, entered the next room. It turned out to be enormous, and the number of various items crammed into it was impressive. The duckling looked at this abundance with despair and groaned quietly, realizing the volume of work ahead. Gathering his willpower, he began the inspection. His attention was drawn to a bulky pyramid of cardboard boxes stacked on top of each other. Deciding to start with them, the boy moved closer.

Louie tried to pull one of the boxes down, but it was surprisingly heavy, and he couldn't budge it. Frustrated, the child kicked the bottom crate, and the entire unstable structure came crashing down onto the floor, taking the duckling himself with it.

Trying to catch his breath, Louie looked around and noticed a faint but distinct blue glow near his right hand. Picking up the object emitting this mysterious light, he brought it right up to his face.

"Here it is! I finally found it!" the young villain exclaimed, and his heart beat with delight.

Overcome with joy, Louie hurried to get up, but one of the boxes painfully pinned his leg, and he couldn't get it off. The situation was becoming serious. Struggling to free himself, he spent a good five minutes like this, but in vain. And so, gritting his teeth, the green-eyed duck decided to resort to magic again. This time the method worked flawlessly. Feeling the long-awaited lightness, he jumped to his feet. Taking another look at the crystal sparkling in his palm, the duckling smiled happily and carefully pressed it to his chest.

Louie returned to his former room and, hiding by the door, listened—were Dewey and Webby there? To his immense relief, it was quiet and empty inside. He quickly grabbed his clothes and changed, carefully folding Huey's outfit back into the dresser. Approaching the window, the heir turned around for a moment, throwing a farewell glance at the familiar walls, and again felt his eyes treacherously filling with moisture, but he roughly wiped them away.

"You think I'm a villain? Well..." the boy's voice was quiet but firm, "Fine. Then I will be one."

Returning to the Continent of Evil, Louie carefully packed the precious crystal into a small, elegant box and tied it with a silky ribbon, making a neat bow. Just before his flight, he had popped into one of Duckburg's shops and bought a bunch of different treats in bright packaging to add to the main gift.

"Well then," Louie said with satisfaction, examining his trophies, "I think they'll definitely like this!"

Louie hid all the gifts in his closet, on the very top shelf, carefully covering them with folded clothes. Of course, he was almost sure the twins wouldn't rummage through his room in his absence, but a little extra caution never hurt.

---

The next morning, Huey, returning from the camping trip, found his brother and friend at home, who greeted him with somewhat confused and reproachful looks.

"Is something wrong?" the red duckling asked in surprise, feeling a bit uneasy.

"What do you think? Why did you act so... strange yesterday?" Dewey attacked the eldest with a direct question, carefully studying his brother's expression.

"Strange how? I wasn't here at all yesterday!" Huey objected, growing more and more perplexed.

"Yes, you were. You came back home," Webby confirmed confidently, which completely baffled the Junior Woodchuck.

"Me? Came back? I wasn't anywhere near the house yesterday!"

"No, you came. You said you forgot to take marshmallows for the campfire," the blue duckling insisted, though notes of doubt were already beginning to creep into his voice.

Huey looked from his brother to Webby with disbelief, and she nodded affirmatively in response.

"But I didn't come back! I never forget anything!" the eldest declared with slight irritation, "Are you sure it was me?"

"Yes... probably..." Dewey looked thoughtfully at the floor, the pieces of the puzzle beginning to fit together in his head, "But it was you! Or... your double... Wait, if it wasn't you, does that mean we saw..."

"Louie!" the ducklings exclaimed in unison, interrupting each other. A deathly silence fell over the room for a second, and the three friends exchanged glances, mixed feelings readable in their eyes: anxiety, hope, and mild shock.

"W-what was he doing here?" an excited Huey finally spoke, breaking the silence first.

"I don't know... He was pretending to be you. And then he just ran off. But where?" Dewey looked at his brother hopefully, as if expecting him to have an answer.

"Ugh, he was so close!" Webby exclaimed in frustration, clutching her head. The children began to make conjectures, trying to find some logical explanation for Louie's actions.

"Okay, alright, alright..." Huey took a deep breath, trying to calm both himself and his friends, "At least we now know for sure that he's alive and, it seems, unharmed!"

---

Finally, the day arrived that Louie, strangely enough, had been looking forward to more eagerly than even the birthday celebrants themselves. The celebration itself, as the twins had explained to him the day before, was to take place in the evening at the majestic Palace of the Blue Flame. Despite this, the eldest hadn't seen his brother and sister practically all day. He knew they were rehearsing from morning till night, striving to perfect everything.

Heirs to influential villainous clans were taught from childhood that they must always be flawless: impeccably polite, perfectly mannered, and unconditionally neat. The slightest mistake in public could become a stain on the entire family's reputation. The twins had long grown accustomed to such pressure, but this birthday was special for them—the first they were celebrating with their older brother.

By evening, Louie put on his best, carefully ironed jacket, his gold watch, and got his feathers in perfect order. He tried his hardest not to let his new family down, so he acted strictly in accordance with the instructions his brother and sister had given him.

Louie went to the celebration with his father on his private plane. During the flight, Derek, with his remarkable perceptiveness, noticed the slight nervous tension emanating from his son.

"Worried?" the drake asked softly, without a hint of reproach. Louie nodded silently but expressively.

"A little... Everything has to go perfectly, and I... I've never been a 'villain' at events like this before..." the child admitted, looking out the window.

His son's words brought a slight, understanding smile to Derek's face. He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, as if trying to transfer some of his own calmness to him.

"It's just a formality, kiddo. Of course, it's better to avoid mistakes, but believe me, no one will kill you for some minor slip-up."

"Yeah... I guess you're right..." Louie once again, for the umpteenth time, thought with surprise about how his former family could so blindly hate Derek. For him, he was becoming the father he had never had—attentive, caring, and wise.

When the Balcoms arrived at the palace, Louie involuntarily froze, struck by its grandeur and luxury. Everything around literally dazzled the eyes with its brilliance, and the heir felt that the decorations alone were worth half of his Uncle Scrooge's fortune.

Trying to live up to the status of "son of a great villain," Louie outwardly maintained an unflappable calm, although inside he desperately wanted to run around and touch every sparkling detail of the interior.

The Balcoms proceeded to a huge, mind-boggling banquet hall. It was done in light tones but illuminated by a mysterious blue glow emanating from countless torches. Majestic marble columns supported the high ceiling, and tables laden with exquisite dishes stood all around. Guests were already seated at them, who, upon seeing the entering Balcoms, hurried to rise and approach them with congratulations and flattering speeches. The children of other villains, meanwhile, looked at Louie with poorly concealed arrogance and contempt, making the boy feel out of place, but, remembering his duty, he tried his best to maintain an impassive expression.

"If you want, you can go to the twins. They seem to be preparing in the dressing room next door," Derek offered, sensing his son's discomfort, "The guard will show you the way."

"Yes, I think I'll do that," Louie replied with relief, and a servant immediately escorted him through the labyrinth of corridors. The boy entered a smaller room, indeed resembling a dressing room.

There the duckling found his brother and sister, dressed in incredibly expensive and elegant outfits. Ethan—in a black, perfectly fitting jacket with a green tie, and Amanda—in a long, flowing dress of the same emerald tones, with a rose woven into her loose, curled hair.

"Hey, hi!" the eldest greeted somewhat uncertainly, breaking the silence.

"Louie!" the delighted twins exclaimed almost in unison. They immediately rushed to him and enveloped him in a warm, family hug.

"Happy birthday, Ethan! Happy birthday, Amanda!" Louie said quickly, looking at each in turn, "How are you feeling?"

"Everything will be just wonderful, of course, if we can manage to avoid any mistakes!" Ethan shared with a slight note of anxiety in his voice.

"Don't worry so much," Louie smiled encouragingly, "I'm absolutely sure everything will go just perfectly!"

The eldest's words seemed to give the twins a bit of confidence, and they responded with grateful smiles.

Returning to the main hall, Louie took a seat at the table next to his father. Derek met him with a warm, approving look.

"So, how are they? Coping?" the drake inquired in his invariably calm, velvety voice.

"A little nervous, but I think it'll be alright..."

Meanwhile, all the guests had taken their seats at the tables, and only now did Louie fully realize just how many there were. The villains were seated around the perimeter of the hall, leaving a vast empty space in the very center.

Suddenly, the main lighting in the hall dimmed, and the space plunged into a mysterious semi-darkness, broken only by the flickering blue glow of numerous torches. The room became dark but light enough to make out the surroundings. And then a thunderous, well-trained voice of the master of ceremonies rolled through the hall.

"And now we move on to the culmination of our evening! Please welcome—the celebrants of today's occasion, the brilliant Ethan and Amanda Balcom!"

Amid applause, the twins stepped into the center of the hall. They moved in perfect synchrony, as if a single entity. On their faces, Louie read slight excitement, but to everyone else, they looked like the epitome of calm and confidence. A spotlight beam picked them out of the semi-darkness, and Ethan, as befits a gentleman, gallantly took his sister's hands. And then they began to move—smoothly, gracefully, with incredible grace.

Their dance resembled a classic waltz but felt imbued with some ancient, almost magical notes. Amanda and Ethan's movements were so polished and synchronized that it seemed as if one were watching a single being and its flawless shadow. Louie watched them with genuine admiration and pride, and a soft, warm smile bloomed on his face. The guests, holding their breath, followed every movement of the ducklings, and it was clear that all were captivated by their skill and harmony.

Finishing their performance, the children bowed in unison in an elegant curtsy. The entire hall, as one living being, rose from their seats and erupted in stormy, enthusiastic applause. With faces shining with happiness and relief, Ethan and Amanda headed towards the table where their father and brother awaited them, and the light in the hall grew brighter again.

"Bravo! Well done!" Derek looked at his younger children with unconcealed pride, "It's immediately clear that you are true Balcoms, and you have no equals!"

"Thank you, Father!" the twins replied in sync, and joy from the well-deserved praise shone in their eyes.

"That was... magnificent," Louie said quietly but with genuine feeling, "Honestly, I wasn't entirely sure you'd manage to learn everything so flawlessly in just a week!" And then he caught himself, realizing he had let it slip.

"But you said yourself you believed in us!" Amanda immediately exclaimed, looking at him with feigned indignation.

"Oh... Well, you know."

His sister gave him another suspicious look, but soon her face was lit up by a happy smile again.

All evening long, various important guests rose to make toasts in honor of the Balcom family, to which the latter invariably responded with due politeness and an unchanging, albeit slightly strained, smile. When the stream of congratulations subsided, the guests were invited onto the dance floor, where many immediately tried to hand their gifts to the twins, praising them effusively. Louie just smirked to himself, knowing that his modest gift, hidden at home, would be far more valuable than all these expensive trinkets.

Soon, servants brought in a huge, multi-tiered cake, covered in flickering candles, which the birthday celebrants blew out together. But the guests, showing little interest in the pastry arts, again surrounded the children, striving to win their attention.

Louie, finishing his piece of cake, stood aside, leaning against one of the columns, and watched this bustle. He felt not the slightest desire to join the dancers; his only thought was to return home as soon as possible and finally present his gift.

"Greetings! You're Frederick, aren't you?" a ringing female voice sounded nearby.

Louie turned and saw a young duck standing nearby, slightly shorter than him, with intelligent and cheerful eyes.

"Yeah..." the young villain replied somewhat warily.

"And why are you standing here all alone, away from everyone?" the girl asked without any ceremony.

"Well... You can't get near Ethan and Amanda right now, and the others seem to be avoiding me..." Louie admitted honestly.

"I see..." the heiress nodded, "My name is Brielle, by the way, but everyone just calls me Bree. I'm a friend of the twins, you could say, from the cradle!" she introduced herself with a proud smile and confidently extended her hand to him.

"Frederick... but you, well, already know that," the duckling felt slightly embarrassed but shook her hand nonetheless.

The evening was drawing to a close, but the guests didn't seem to think about leaving, continuing to besiege the Balcoms. The fatigue on Ethan and Amanda's faces was becoming more and more noticeable, and Louie saw how hard it was for them to maintain this constant need to be nice and welcoming. He himself spent the rest of the evening in pleasant conversation with Brielle, who also seemed quite tired of all this ostentatious hustle and bustle. Finally, a calm but authoritative voice rose above the noise of the crowd.

"Dear guests, I thank you all for sharing this beautiful evening with us! And before we conclude our celebration, I would like to personally present something to my birthday celebrants!"

The drake handed the twins an elegant, small box each. The children smiled gratefully at their father, and Louie moved closer to the family at that moment.

Ethan and Amanda were burning with curiosity and were about to unwrap the gifts when they were again surrounded by a crowd of guests, this time wanting to say goodbye. The older brother stepped aside again so as not to be in anyone's way. To his surprise, Derek approached him as well, holding out a similar small box. Louie looked at his father in bewilderment.

"For me? But why? My birthday isn't for another month..."

"I know," Derek smiled softly, "But when you think about how many of your birthdays I've missed... You deserve a little gift, just because."

These words warmed Louie's heart, and he no longer felt like an outsider at this celebration. He glanced at the twins, who, tired but happy, were trying to smile wholeheartedly at each departing guest, and quietly, with slight concern for them, laughed, involuntarily pressing closer to his father.

---

"Oh, god, it feels so good to be back in my comfortable pajamas and not in that stuffy dress!" Amanda exclaimed with genuine relief, coming out of her room into the common living room.

Immediately after returning from the celebration, the children's first move was to rush to change into their usual, comfortable home clothes. They had agreed in advance to unwrap all the gifts together, so Louie, who had managed to change first, was already patiently waiting for his brother and sister, comfortably settled on the sofa.

"So, is everyone ready? Can we start?" an ecstatic Ethan asked, practically bouncing with impatience.

Amanda nodded affirmatively, and all three simultaneously began opening the boxes given by Derek.

"And what is this?" Louie asked with slight bewilderment in his voice, pulling a soft plush toy out of his box. Looking closer, the heir discovered with amazement that it was an exact, albeit stylized, copy of himself. The twins, however, froze for a second and then simultaneously let out an exclamation of delight.

"Do you really not know?" Amanda was surprised, "These aren't just toys! They're said to bring their owner good luck. And, according to legend, they contain a piece of the soul of the person they're gifted to. Only one single old wizard can create such dolls, so they cost a fortune. Not every rich person can afford one!"

"A piece of the soul?" Louie repeated, still not fully understanding, "What does that mean?"

"To be honest, we don't really know ourselves," Ethan admitted, smiling as he watched his brother's reaction, "But every inhabitant of the Continent of Evil has heard fairy tales about these magical dolls since childhood!"

"Cool..." Louie drawled, still examining the plush copy of himself with curiosity, "Alright, now, maybe open my gift?" the duckling couldn't hide his smile, anticipating the moment.

"Oh, right! We completely forgot, of course!" the twins exclaimed in unison.

The eldest disappeared into his room for a moment and soon returned, carrying several packages in his hands. First, he handed the children two bags stuffed with all sorts of sweets.

"Wow! It's a whole treasure trove of goodies! You're the best, Louie!" Ethan exclaimed without hiding his joy, peering inside with delight.

"Yeah, but that's not all," Louie smiled mysteriously, "And here—is my main gift."

The eldest handed them that very same small, neat box tied with a ribbon. Amanda took it carefully. The twins froze in anticipation, but upon opening the lid and looking inside, they were stunned. Their eyes widened in incredible amazement, and the children seemed to turn into two ice statues. Not expecting such a reaction, Louie became embarrassed.

"What... is something wrong?" the green-eyed duck asked uncertainly.

"What?.. How?.. What?.." the stunned Amanda began firing questions at the eldest, unable to tear her eyes away from the sparkling contents.

"I... I went to Duckburg to get it..." Louie admitted quietly.

Amanda took a step forward and gave her brother a light but noticeable shove in the side.

"That's for going through my things without permission," the girl said, but then her face broke into a wide smile, and she hugged him tightly, "And this is a huge thank you for bringing us this crystal!"

The eldest hugged her back with relief, and Ethan immediately joined them, forming a warm, friendly circle.

"One thing still bothers me," the younger brother said with feigned seriousness, "how did you even manage it? I was sure you wouldn't get within five kilometers of the Ducks!"

"Ha-ha, very funny," Louie retorted with slight irony, "It turned out to be simple—I just pretended to be one of my brothers for a little while, that's all!"

"Not bad, not bad!" Ethan laughed, "It's a shame Amanda and I can't pull off the same trick. Ah, think of all the funny pranks we could set up!"

"All you ever think about is playing pranks on someone!" his sister shook her head with playful sternness.

"Oh, come on! As if you wouldn't dream of it yourself!"

And all three burst into happy, carefree laughter again, continuing to stand in their warm embrace. Louie finally breathed a sigh of relief. Just a couple of months ago, he couldn't have imagined he would come to love these once cruel and prickly twins so deeply. Looking at them now—cheerful, happy, truly family—who could possibly think they were the children of one of the world's greatest villains?

Chapter Text

"Louie, wake up!"

The sharp, deafening exclamation right next to his ear made the former Duck flinch and let out a choked cry. His heart skipped a beat for a moment, then began to pound at a frantic pace, as if trying to escape his chest. He instantly jumped up from the soft sofa where he had unplannedly dozed off, and the most terrible images of possible disasters flashed through his mind. However, when his sleep-fogged gaze focused, Louie saw his younger brother grinning widely right in front of him, and behind him, his sister standing with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Ethan! What are you doing?!" the eldest finally cried out, coming to his senses and realizing with relief that there was no danger.

"Dunno. But it's fun!" the boy laughed carefreely, clearly pleased with the effect he had produced.

"My heart almost stopped, you darn joker!" Louie grumbled, plopping back onto the sofa and sleepily rubbing his face with his palm, while Ethan continued his ringing, infectious laughter.

Amanda shot her twin a meaningful look full of silent reproach. Although she herself wasn't against teasing their older brother sometimes, in her opinion, Ethan often went too far, not knowing when to stop.

"It's already past one in the afternoon, and you're just lying around sleeping," Amanda articulated with a slight note of concern in her voice, taking a few steps towards Louie, "And not even in your own room, but right in the middle of the common living room."

He just snorted in response, finding no strong arguments against this fair point.

"I'm just... really tired. A five-minute, or maybe a slightly longer nap never hurt anyone," Louie mumbled, trying to shake off the remnants of drowsiness.

"As if you have no work at all," Ethan couldn't resist a jab, finally calming down from his laughter.

"I do..." Louie admitted reluctantly, knowing his brother was right.

"Then come on, get up!" Amanda declared in a softer but insistent tone, decisively offering her hand to her brother, "I know you love to sleep, but we all have to follow orders and train."

The eldest, reluctantly but obediently, took the offered palm and allowed himself to be pulled up. Together, the ducklings headed to the familiar training hall.

"Remember the golden rule, Llewellyn: defeat us, and you defeat everyone else!" Ethan proclaimed with feigned, yet no less proud, importance in his voice, deftly tossing his training sword into the air, catching it, and then throwing the second one to his brother.

"Please, don't call me by my full name…" the eldest hissed, catching the weapon with an irritated expression.

"M-mm, alright, I'll concede," the younger one shrugged with feigned reluctance.

The ducklings moved to opposite ends of the spacious room, taking fighting stances. Louie, to his own surprise, no longer felt the previous fear towards this type of duel. The memory of the incident where he had carelessly broken his sister's leg had made everyone more cautious and attentive towards each other.

"You may begin! I'm timing!" Amanda commanded, comfortably settling on high wooden crates by the wall. She swung her legs cheerfully, her attentive gaze fixed on the brothers, ready for the fight.

Ethan, like an arrow released from a bow, rushed towards his opponent to deliver the first strike. He smoothly but swiftly raised his sword overhead and attacked diagonally, but Louie managed to bring up his own weapon, blocking the attack and preventing the blade from touching him. Ethan grinned with satisfaction, seeing the clear progress of his "student."

Now it was Louie's turn to attack. He took a deep swing and tried to strike from the left, but the younger brother easily parried the blow. The eldest, not giving up, tried to approach from different angles, attacking from the right, then from below, but each time his attempts ended in failure, which only amused and encouraged Ethan.

"Not bad, really not bad! But I think it's time to wrap it up!" the boy exclaimed almost cheerfully and, seizing a good moment, executed a lightning-fast sweeping strike at Louie's legs. The latter didn't have time to react, lost his balance, and fell to the floor with a dull thud, dropping his sword.

Lying on his back, the heir felt the cold metal blade touch his throat and helplessly lifted his head to meet the gaze of the victor.

"That's it, you're dead! I win!" Ethan proclaimed with a triumphant smirk, removing the sword from his brother's neck.

"Three minutes and eight seconds," Amanda shouted loudly and clearly, stopping the stopwatch.

"Wow, that's a new record! A whole three seconds longer than last time!" Ethan remarked with good-natured, yet noticeable, sarcasm.

Louie sighed loudly and despairingly, leaned back, and covered his face with his hands.

"Ugh, why is that? Why do you always, absolutely always know what move I'm going to make?"

"Firstly, dear brother, we've been training since we were three years old," Amanda began to explain patiently, gracefully jumping down from the crates, "And secondly, you fight exactly as we taught you. Your movements have become reflexive, so predicting your next move is child's play!" She walked over to the brothers and handed the stopwatch to Ethan.

Louie slowly got up from the floor, dusting himself off, and watched the twins' confident, polished movements with a touch of envy.

"What's next on the agenda?" the former Duck asked, looking at his sister with hope.

"Actually, it's my turn to fight you now," Amanda announced, and a mischievous glint sparkled in her eyes, "So, please, try to last at least…"

The girl's words were gently interrupted by a calm, velvety, and painfully familiar voice coming from the doorway.

"So, how are my little stars doing? Any progress?"

"Father!" all three ducklings exclaimed in unison with genuine delight, and their faces instantly lit up with joyful smiles. Communicating with Derek was always a long-awaited and bright event for them.

The drake smiled warmly, looking over his children with a loving gaze. His smile had a kind of magical property—it warmed hearts and made one believe in the best, even in the most difficult moments.

"Fred definitely has progress! He still doesn't measure up to our level, but the improvement is obvious!" Ethan shared enthusiastically. Louie slowly, with a silent reproach, turned his head towards him and shot the duckling an indignant look. The younger brother just beamed back with a winner's smile.

"Oh, that's just wonderful news!" Derek rejoiced sincerely, "You've become so close, I'm simply proud of you!"

"We're Balcoms!" Amanda confirmed proudly, pulling both brothers closer to her, "Our family must always stick together, be united!"

The boys didn't resist and, with slight smiles, sank into their sister's embrace, not feeling the slightest desire to break free.

"Hmm, yes, speaking of family…" Derek's voice became a bit more serious for a moment, "Your Aunt Catherine and I have decided that this year's Moon Festival will be held at her estate."

"What?!" the twins shouted in sync, with unconcealed horror, leaving Louie in complete and utter bewilderment.

"Calm down, calm down, little ones," Derek tried to gently quiet his children, "Just one day, I'm sure you'll survive it just fine."

"But this year it was our turn to host the festival!" Ethan exclaimed indignantly, angrily crossing his arms over his chest.

"I know. But this will be better for everyone. For Fred, this will be our first family holiday, and I want everything to go perfectly. So, please, prepare properly."

Derek placed his hands on the clearly upset twins' shoulders, trying to cheer them up, while Louie silently watched this scene, still not understanding the essence of what was happening.

"Yes, Father…" the ducklings replied almost mechanically, in unison, their voices sounding obedient but without enthusiasm.

"And what, exactly, is happening? What kind of festival is this?" the eldest finally blurted out, unable to bear the uncertainty. All the Balcoms turned to him at once. Derek was about to explain, but at that moment a soldier swiftly entered the training hall, saluted, and quietly reported something to the drake.

"Alright, I'll be back soon," Derek nodded, then turned back to the children, "And you, meanwhile, prepare Fred for everything he needs to know."

And with those words, the head of the family left the hall, leaving the three ducklings in a deathly, tense silence.

"So-o-o," Louie drawled slowly, being the first to dare break the silence, "Is anyone going to explain what the heck just happened?"

"Ugh, another pointless, boring, and pretentious holiday," Ethan exhaled with unconcealed annoyance, "We hold it every year to 'strengthen family bonds.' It's such an ancient, unbreakable tradition. The problem is just one thing—Aunt Catherine. She's unbearably mean, unfair, and ridiculously strict!"

"Aunt Catherine?" Louie asked in surprise, "You never mentioned we had an aunt…"

"Well, we don't really want to talk about her," Amanda chimed in with a bitter smirk, "She's Father's older sister, but she treats us with such contempt, as if we weren't her own nephews, but some kind of puppets."

Louie looked carefully at the twins. Their faces had become sullen and thoughtful. They involuntarily clenched their hands into fists, adopting closed, defensive postures. The older brother wanted to ask them for more details, but Ethan, unable to contain himself, interrupted him again.

"And worse than her is only her younger son, Tod," the boy continued with a new wave of irritation, "That troublemaker is just as nasty as she is! He constantly lies, twists the truth, and happily reports to his mother about our slightest mistakes, shamelessly exaggerating them just to disgrace us more in front of Father!"

"Her husband, Charles, is no better," Amanda added with cold bitterness in her voice, "For him, we were always just a burden, an unwanted hindrance. About a year ago, he passed away, leaving Aunt Catherine a widow."

Louie noticed with regret the unrestrained malice and resentment with which the children spoke of this "relative." And it was quite understandable. It seemed the twins had suffered quite a bit from this part of the family in their short lives. The heir desperately wanted to support them somehow, to find the right words, but nothing came to mind.

"That's... terrible," Louie finally muttered, "My uncle... he always loved me and my brothers. And probably still does..." his voice trembled, and the bitter words Donald had recently said about the duckling's resemblance to Derek immediately surfaced in his mind. The boy forcefully pushed those thoughts away.

"Actually, her eldest son, Ayden," Amanda said, her voice already warming up, as if trying to find at least some ray of light in this dark story, "is the only one who was always kind to us. He spent almost our entire childhood with us. He's the one who taught us the basics of martial arts!"

Ethan nodded in agreement, and a warm smile also appeared on his face for a moment at the memory of their cousin.

Hearing the familiar name, Louie perked up. So that's who the twins had spoken of so warmly at that dinner with the Blackwells!

"Wonderful..." Louie said, gathering his thoughts, "Okay, and how much time do we have until this festival?"

"Three days," Ethan replied and smirked bitterly, "A whole three days of relatively peaceful life. Enjoy it while you can."

Amanda quietly snorted in response to her twin's dark humor.

---

"Come on, tell me all the flaws right away! Quickly!" Amanda almost ordered, appearing on the threshold of the common living room in a long, strict black dress.

Louie, slightly stunned by such abruptness, looked at his sister in bewilderment. Her face showed a mixture of anxiety, irritation, and some kind of feverish concern. The girl froze in front of her brother in a tense pose, impatiently awaiting his verdict.

"I don't see any flaws," Louie admitted honestly, snorting and spreading his hands.

"Aunt Catherine will definitely see them! She'll find a flaw in anything!" Amanda exclaimed heatedly, "So look more carefully, I have to be perfect!"

"Don't you think you're worrying too much about this?" the older brother inquired cautiously, but, meeting a stern, scorching gaze, immediately froze.

"Are you serious right now?!" his sister's voice reached such a high pitch that Louie involuntarily stepped back.

"Yes... I just..."

"Alright, I'm ready! You can evaluate!" Ethan proclaimed loudly, appearing in the doorway. Louie breathed a sigh of relief when the younger sister's attention switched to her twin.

"And you're so sure of that?" Amanda raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Not entirely, but look at my jacket!" Ethan proudly ran his hand over the impeccably smooth fabric, "Not a single extra wrinkle! I'm ready for a social soirée right now!"

Amanda nodded approvingly, then turned back to her half-brother, her gaze becoming intent and studying again.

"Hmm, Louie," the girl drawled, coming closer, "Your tie is completely loose. That won't do."

"Thanks, I didn't notice," the eldest replied gratefully as his sister deftly fixed his accessory with quick movements.

Amanda let her gaze linger on his large, expressive green eyes for a moment, and a slight, almost weightless smile twitched on her beak.

---

When the ducklings, along with Derek, stepped off the plane, the children saw a huge mansion before them, astounding in its scale and luxury. For the twins, who had grown up in a similar environment, there was nothing unusual about this, but Louie, whose childhood had been spent on a cramped houseboat, couldn't hide his amazement. He looked with delight at the manicured lawns, the perfect alleys, and the majestic facade of the building itself, shining white in the sun.

All the boy's dreams of wealth and recognition seemed to be coming true. Now he was a part of this life. True, many inhabitants of the Continent of Evil still looked at him with distrust, but now they were forced to reckon with him, often making concessions.

Anxious servants respectfully swung open the massive oak doors for the Balcom family, and they crossed the threshold. They were immediately met by a young drake, who looked to be about twenty years old. His posture was relaxed, and a kind, open smile played on his face.

"Ayden!" the twins shrieked joyfully, almost squealing, and, forgetting all propriety, rushed to their cousin, hugging him tightly. Louie watched this touching scene with a touch of envy and bewilderment.

"Hello, my dears!" Ayden said quietly, tenderly, hugging the children back with force.

"Eleven years old, and still no manners!" a sharp, piercing female voice rang out, making everyone flinch.

The ducklings instantly recoiled from each other and froze in perfectly straight, almost unnatural poses, staring at the floor.

Louie immediately shifted his gaze to the woman who had appeared in the hall. She had stern, cold features, piercing green eyes, and hair neatly tied in a tight bun. He knew without a doubt—this was that very Aunt Catherine. Next to her stood a small duckling, about seven years old, and a smug, pleased smile played on his face. He seemed to take great pleasure in his cousins' embarrassment.

"Calm down, Catherine, they haven't seen each other for almost a whole year," Derek interceded calmly but firmly, maintaining a slight, unflappable smile on his beak. He hugged his children, who instinctively pressed closer to him, seeking protection and support.

"Hello, Aunt Catherine…" the twins mumbled almost mechanically, in unison, their voices sounding muffled and submissive. They stubbornly refused to raise their eyes to meet their aunt's icy gaze. Louie, on the other hand, examined the new relatives with unconcealed curiosity.

"Upbringing, Derek," Catherine said reproachfully, "it should come first. True Balcoms do not parade their emotions like cheap actors, or have you forgotten that rule?"

The drake's face twisted into a slight grimace of irritation for a moment, but he immediately regained control and maintained an impassive expression, choosing to remain silent.

Louie silently watched this verbal duel and, waiting for a pause, decided to be polite and introduce himself.

"Hello, I'm…"

Unexpectedly for him, the woman rolled her eyes in irritation and, without letting the child finish, interrupted him in an icy tone.

"Ugh, Della's offspring…"

Louie blinked several times, trying to comprehend and digest his aunt's reaction. He had expected a lot, but not such outright disdain.

"Catherine…" this time Derek's voice sounded stern and warning.

"What? Brought one of the Ducks here. Well done. How else am I supposed to react to that?"

The drake looked at his sister reproachfully, while the children were in a state of awkwardness and anxiety. Ayden looked at Louie with genuine sympathy, and the duckling caught his gaze.

Only Tod did not hide his glee. Catching Amanda's angry look, he immediately stuck his tongue out at her. Tension hung in the air of the luxurious hall, becoming almost tangible. Ayden, seeing the situation escalating, hurried to intervene.

"Mother, I think it's time to show the guests to their rooms so they can rest from the journey."

"Take the children," Catherine snapped sharply, not taking her eyes off her brother, "So they don't get underfoot here!"

The young drake gestured for his cousins to follow him and led them down a long, carpeted corridor. Only when they were at a safe distance from the mistress of the house did the ducklings allow themselves to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Okay," Ethan said, "thought it would be worse."

"Oh, forgive me for her, you know what she's like," Ayden said with sincere remorse in his voice, addressing the children, "Mother just can't resist throwing a barb."

"Yeah…" the twins agreed with him without much enthusiasm. They had long been accustomed to such treatment, but today even their usually unflappable father was clearly irritated and angry, which happened extremely rarely.

"Well, here are your rooms!" Ayden pointed to three identical doors facing each other. Ethan and Amanda without a second thought rushed to their old, familiar bedrooms. Louie, however, lingered, examining his. His cousin entered the room with him.

"Fred, if I'm not mistaken?" the young drake asked in a soft, good-natured voice, kneeling down to be at eye level with Louie.

"Yes," the duckling replied shortly and still a bit uncertainly.

"You know, I wanted to apologize for Mother," Ayden said quietly, "I knew she… disliked Della, but I still hoped she would treat you at least a little better…"

Louie looked into his green, sincere eyes and read genuine remorse in them. He slowly nodded, letting him know he bore no grudge. But one question bothered him.

"And you… did you know my mom?" Louie suddenly asked, and his own voice sounded unfamiliar to him.

Ayden was surprised for a moment but then smiled softly so as not to embarrass the child.

"Yes, we met a few times. It was a very long time ago, over ten years. I was just a child, but I remember her well. She was… incredible. Full of life, energy, and love for adventure, wasn't she?"

"Oh, yes…" Louie's voice trembled. "All the Ducks adore them…"

The boy felt anxious and somehow empty inside. He again felt the chasm that separated him from his former family. The heir hated adventures, preferring calm rest in front of the TV or long, serene sleep.

"Well, it's nice to finally get to know you better," Ayden said warmly, "You seem like such a nice kid!"

The drake came closer and gently pinched Louie's cheeks. The duckling usually couldn't stand being treated like that, but this time his cousin's touch felt surprisingly pleasant and warming.

At that moment, the twins burst into the room with loud exclamations. They rushed straight to Ayden, enveloping him in warm hugs again.

"Ayden! We missed you so much!" Amanda exclaimed, hugging him with all her might.

"And I missed you, guys, believe me."

The young drake gently pulled away to get a better look at the ducklings. Louie silently watched this touching reunion scene. A smile played on his face, but deep down the boy felt a strange, aching sadness. No matter how angry he sometimes got at his triplets, at that moment he terribly wanted to be there, in the center of their universal love, to hug his brothers and never let go.

"Sorry I couldn't make it to your birthday," Ayden said with a slight, guilty smile, "I just got back from my trip yesterday and I'm really sorry I missed such an important event…"

"It's alright! We understand," Ethan hastened to reply. Amanda nodded in support.

"Wow," Ayden said impressed, looking the children over carefully, "You've become… truly close? That's wonderful!"

The twins glanced at each other and giggled.

"Yeah! Fred showed us what it really means to be a family!" Ethan proclaimed proudly, pointing at the older brother, "That's why now we're like real brothers and sister!"

Louie smiled sheepishly and gave a short nod.

"Wow," Ayden drawled, impressed, "Hasn't even been a year here, and he's already managed to reconcile two notorious troublemakers who did nothing but quarrel. Even I, with all my desire, couldn't manage that," he winked at Louie, making him even more embarrassed.

"And Fred let me keep Gerald!" Amanda joyfully reported, pulling a tiny fluffy animal out of her small purse and showing it to her cousin. The drake examined the jerboa with amazement.

"And where did you manage to find such a wonder?"

"It's hard to explain… In one of the dark alleys of the city," Ethan replied evasively.

"I'm sure I've read about these creatures somewhere. They're incredibly rare and, according to legends, only show themselves to those they deem worthy."

"Really?" Amanda breathed out in delight, "How do you know about that?"

"I had a very old encyclopedia about magical creatures when I was a child," Ayden replied with a nostalgic smile.

"Could you lend it to me, please? I'd really love to read it!"

The drake looked at his cousin, shining with curiosity, then turned his gaze back to Gerald.

"Yes, of course. By the way, why is one of his wings bandaged?"

"It was broken when we found him, but I'll definitely find a way to heal him completely!"

"Well done, I'm proud of you!" Ayden praised the girl sincerely and gently patted her head.

"You know, I never thought I'd say this out loud," Ethan suddenly declared, coming closer to Louie and hugging him by the shoulder, "but I'm darn glad we have an older brother now!"

The green-eyed duckling felt the twins hugging him from both sides. The boy's face instantly became happier. He was pleased to hear these words, especially after everything his aunt had said.

"How you've changed…" Ayden shook his head with slight surprise, "Fred, you seem like a real miracle. It took me years just to get them to look at each other without silent hatred, and you…"

"Oh, come on, it wasn't that bad!" Amanda exclaimed with feigned indignation, and everyone present couldn't help but laugh.

"Actually, I didn't do anything special," Louie muttered, completely embarrassed by such attention.

"Remembering what these two were like as kids," Ayden grinned, pointing at the twins, "I'm sure your contribution was more than special. Seems like your genes from Della helped, huh?"

At these words, Louie noticeably surprised and confused.

"What?"

"Well, your mom was always incredibly kind, responsive, and friendly," Ayden explained, "So it's no surprise that her son managed to find an approach to these two rascals," he affectionately ruffled the twins' heads, and they, grumbling but not resisting, let him do it.

And chaos reigned in Louie's head. Had someone really compared him to his mom? Lately, he had only heard about his resemblance to his father, and sometimes not in the best light. But this unexpected comparison with Della awakened a strange, warm, and bright feeling in the child's soul, one he hadn't felt in a long time.

"Yeah… I guess you're right…" the duckling agreed quietly.

For a whole hour, Louie listened with pleasure to the funny and touching stories of his new family. Sometimes Ayden recalled particularly amusing stories from the twins' childhood, which made them embarrassed, and they snorted indignantly, trying to interrupt him. The older duckling laughed heartily, feeling truly at home in this circle of relatives.

"Well, guys, I have to go," Ayden finally announced, rising, "Need to make sure everything is ready for the festival."

"Don't we need to help?" Louie unexpectedly offered, making his cousin turn around on the threshold.

"Um... Better not," Ayden replied a bit embarrassed, "Especially you, Fred…"

"Oh… Okay…" the boy's face instantly saddened, and a shadow of disappointment flashed in his eyes. Ayden, noticing this, realized he had said something wrong.

"No, no, I didn't mean to offend you, just…"

"I understand," Louie interrupted him quietly, although deep down he understood his cousin was right. The young drake nodded with a guilty smile and left the room.

Ethan and Amanda looked at their older brother; sympathy was readable on their faces. Although they hadn't faced a similar situation head-on, they understood the heir's feelings perfectly well.

"Hey, Louie," Ethan began softly, coming closer, "You know yourself how nasty Aunt Catherine is. What difference does it really make what she thinks about the Ducks? Right now, you're a Balcom! Our brother!"

"It's not just that…" Louie replied dully, looking at the floor, "I'm just tired. The Balcoms hate the Ducks, the Ducks despise the Balcoms. Everyone around just keeps comparing me to one or the other, and always in their worst aspects. I feel like I'm not truly welcome anywhere!"

"We welcome you..." Amanda said quietly but very convincingly.

"Yes!" Ethan picked up fervently, "You're the best brother to us! And let everyone say whatever they want, but we'll always be on your side! We'll always be with you!"

Louie slowly raised his head to look at them. On their faces, the boy saw not just sympathy—he saw real, genuine support and loyalty. The twins rushed to him at once and hugged him tightly, truly, as if trying to protect him from the entire hostile world.

"Thank you…" the eldest whispered, and a weak but sincere smile trembled on his beak. He had them. Those who understood him, accepted him for who he was, and weren't afraid of his "villainous" essence. And for that, he was ready to forgive them everything in the world.

"Do you feel at least a little better now?" Amanda asked caringly, hugging the eldest even tighter.

"Much better… Honestly."

---

"So, Louie, listen carefully and remember once and for all everything we taught you!" Ethan ordered with feigned sternness, imitating a coach's voice.

The twins explained the essence of the upcoming Moon Festival to their brother in detail, down to the smallest particulars. It all boiled down to a solemn joint dinner at a huge table, after which each family member had to drink a special ceremonial drink from a particular goblet—the sacred part of the entire celebration.

"And why all this?" Louie couldn't resist asking, "I mean, is it just such a… tradition? A ritual?"

The twins turned to the heir in unison, their faces expressing slight bewilderment.

"In a way—yes," Amanda replied quickly, almost in a tongue-twister, "The Balcoms have been holding this festival for several centuries now. It's believed that by doing so we strengthen family bonds, shared strength, health, and all that. But, to be completely honest," she lowered her voice to a whisper, "I personally can't stand this whole ceremony!"

"Yeah, I second that," Ethan nodded, "Alright, enough talking, time to go down to the dining room. Can't keep Aunt waiting."

The ducklings headed down the wide staircase, where the rest of the family was already waiting for them. The children silently took their places at the massive polished wooden table, settling next to each other. The adults sat opposite them, and to Louie's displeasure, Tod was to his right. The former Duck initially paid him no attention until he felt a sharp, painful poke in his side. He turned and met the mocking, cunning gaze of his younger cousin.

"You look especially pathetic today!" Tod hissed and immediately stuck his tongue out.

"Uh-huh…" the eldest duckling drawled indifferently, almost lazily, pretending not to notice the insult. Such a reaction clearly displeased Tod, and he puffed out his cheeks in anger.

"Amanda, straighten your back this instant! You're a lady, not some market trader!" Catherine's sharp voice rang out, directed at her niece.

"Yes, Aunt…" Amanda replied submissively but with poorly concealed irritation in her voice.

Soon the servants began serving dinner, and the children involuntarily perked up. Louie approached the creamy vegetable soup with some caution. He usually wasn't a fan of such dishes, but to his surprise, the soup turned out to be quite tasty, though not as bright and rich as the familiar food in Duckburg.

Looking at his brother and sister, the eldest saw no trace of their former liveliness on their faces. The boy realized with bitterness that in Aunt Catherine's house, even the slightest display of vivid emotions was strictly forbidden.

The ducklings sat like stone figures while the adults exchanged polite but cold phrases. Even Ayden, usually so sociable, preferred to silently focus on his plate.

"Derek, you should take your children's training much more seriously," Catherine suddenly declared, "I've carefully studied the reports on their recent 'games.' The results, I must say, are more than mediocre. My Ayden destroyed far more targets at their age!"

These words, spoken with icy bluntness, made even the young drake frown at his mother. The children involuntarily flinched. Memories of those terrible, bloody games still haunted them at night. The ducklings never discussed it among themselves, perfectly understanding how painful this topic was for everyone.

"Catherine, for them and their age, the current results are more than sufficient," Derek parried calmly but firmly, "And if we're going there, remember yourself at their age. They've long surpassed you in all metrics."

The woman flushed with rage. She was beside herself with anger, her face flooded with a deep blush, and she was about to pour all her fury onto her brother, but Ayden softly but insistently placed his hand on hers, begging her with his whole demeanor to stop.

The atmosphere at the table became so tense that it seemed the air was about to thicken. Only Tod didn't care. He carelessly finished his dessert.

Later, when dinner was coming to an end, the butler placed an elegant, empty goblet in front of each family member. Louie couldn't tear his admiring gaze away from them. The vessels were skillfully crafted from pure gold and generously studded with emeralds and rubies that shimmered in the light of the chandeliers.

The older brother glanced furtively at the twins. After the recent argument between their father and aunt, they looked depressed and dimmed. The butler, with ceremonial solemnity, filled each goblet with that very sacred drink. The liquid was transparent pink, but in the depth of the golden vessel, it seemed dark and mysterious.

At the command of the adults, all those present rose from their seats. Louie, carefully watching the movements of the others, did the same. The Balcoms simultaneously took their goblets in their hands. The eldest duckling tried to keep up, copying their smooth, polished movements.

"And now the most important and pleasant moment of our festival has come," Derek proclaimed solemnly, "I propose we drink this goblet to the well-being, prosperity, and unbreakable unity of our family!"

Catherine looked at her brother with slight irritation but didn't interrupt him this time. All those present, as one, took a sip.

Louie followed their example. He brought the goblet to his beak and felt a sharp, tart, and slightly spicy aroma. Then, like everyone else, the boy drained his vessel in one go. The drink tasted strange—sweetish but with a distinct bitter note, leaving a long, unusual aftertaste on the tongue.

When everyone was seated again, Louie experienced a strange, almost magical sensation. All his anxieties, all his burdensome thoughts seemed to recede into the background, becoming less significant and acute. He felt a surge of inexplicable energy, and his soul became surprisingly light and calm. "So this is the true meaning of this ritual…" flashed through his mind.

---

When the long and exhausting evening finally came to an end, the children dispersed to their rooms. The older duckling plopped down onto the soft, huge bed with relief. Louie found himself in a world where he seemed to be accepted for who he was. But something was still wrong. A deep, aching longing nestled somewhere at the bottom of his heart, as if something important was missing. Louie replayed all the events of the past day in his head over and over again, completely immersing himself in the whirlpool of his own thoughts.

The child was brought back to reality by a quiet but persistent tapping. His younger cousin's head poked through the gap between the door and the frame.

"Tod?" Louie said warily, rising on his elbow, "What do you want?"

"Nothing special," he replied with unnatural sweetness in his voice, "Just came to wish you the most peaceful night in the world!"

Louie looked at the child with distrust. Why would this notorious prankster suddenly show him such unexpected kindness? Tod came very close to the bed, his gaze insistent and expectant. The green-eyed duckling felt uncomfortable.

"Um… Good night to you too…" Louie muttered uncertainly in response.

The boy nodded contentedly, his face spread into a wide, unnatural smile, and he disappeared behind the door just as silently, leaving the heir in complete bewilderment.

The duckling sat back on the bed, but his gaze fell on a large mirror in a carved frame standing in the corner of the room. He went up to it to look at his reflection, and suddenly, as if in a nightmarish vision, saw himself all covered in blood, with an empty, insane gaze. Memories of the games, of those ethereals with incredible power, raced through the boy's head.

Tears streamed from his eyes on their own, his knees buckled, and Louie collapsed onto them right in front of the mirror, unable to look at his reflection. He felt sick at the realization of what he had become—a murderer. He never wanted this, never strived for it, but now it was a part of him. After that ritual drink, he had felt better for a while, but why couldn't that effect last forever? The heavy, pressing experiences washed over the green-eyed duck with renewed force, and this time he had no strength left to resist them. Louie sat like that, pressing his forehead against the cold glass, not knowing how much time had passed—minutes or hours.

Suddenly, the door to the duckling's room swung open with a bang, and the angry figure of Aunt Catherine appeared on the threshold. Behind her stood Derek and Tod, whose face shone with a triumphant smirk. Louie instantly jumped to his feet and wiped away the tears with the back of his hand.

"Well, confess right now, where did you hide it?" Catherine demanded in a voice as hard as steel. The boy again felt the ground disappear from under his feet, looking at the sneeringly smirking cousin and at his father, whose face expressed an uncharacteristic severity for him.

"What? Who did I hide?" Louie muttered in confusion.

"Don't pretend, mudblood! I know perfectly well it was you who took my family brooch!" the aunt almost screamed, taking a threatening step towards the child.

"Catherine, we can't say for sure that it was Fred who did it," Derek interceded for his son, his voice serious, without the usual warmth.

"Mommy, I think he could have hidden your brooch under the bed somewhere!" Tod piped up in his sweetest, most innocent voice.

Catherine gestured for her son to check the assumption. Louie looked at the adults in horror, his shocked green eyes darting from one face to another. He was being accused? But of what? He absolutely hadn't done anything!

The frightened twins burst into the room like a whirlwind.

"Wh-what h-happened?" Amanda stammered out excitedly, seeing her aunt, "We h-heard loud shouts…"

Ayden appeared behind them, his face expressing anxiety and a question.

"Here, Mommy, look!" Tod exclaimed with feigned horror in his voice, pulling an elegant brooch from under the bed, "I told you Fred took it!" He triumphantly waved the jewelry in front of the gathered faces.

All eyes turned to Louie at once, and he instinctively stepped back, bumping into the mirror.

"B-but I didn't take anything… It wasn't me, I swear!" the frightened duckling tried to defend himself, but his voice trembled and broke treacherously. Louie looked with hatred at his sweetly smiling cousin, and the full picture suddenly formed in his head, "It was him! That's why he came to my room! Tod planted the brooch under my bed himself!"

"Me?" the child exclaimed with feigned bewilderment and offense, "But why would I do that? You just hate me and want to pin everything on me!" he masterfully portrayed bitter sobs and pressed against his mother, seeking protection from her.

The twins stared at Tod with unconcealed fury. They understood perfectly well that he was lying.

"A little thief, and a liar to boot!" Catherine exclaimed with contempt, and these words echoed in Louie's soul with a burning pain, "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree! Like mother, like son!"

That phrase was enough to make Louie's cup of patience overflow. The anger that had been building up all day finally burst out.

"Catherine! Calm down immediately!" Derek harshly cut off his sister.

"My mom is not a thief!" Louie shouted, and his voice, ringing and full of pain, sounded louder than he himself expected, "Don't you ever call her that!"

Everyone present turned to him in amazement, but the boy could no longer stop. Derek looked at his son with surprise but approval, and a proud smile flickered on his beak.

"How dare you?!" Catherine exclaimed, crimson with rage. Tod, however, just beamed, watching his cousin lose his composure.

"Enough!" a firm, authoritative voice suddenly rang out. It was Ayden. He stepped forward, siding with Louie, "If Fred says he didn't take the brooch, then he's telling the truth!"

"But all the evidence points to him!" Catherine snorted.

"We can easily check that," the young drake stated coldly, "But I'm inclined to believe Fred. He doesn't seem like a liar."

Ayden resolutely stood next to Louie. The twins, without a second thought, ran over and repeated after him, forming a living shield around their older brother.

"Yes! We believe him too!" they declared in unison, "Fred never stole anything! Why would he start now?!"

Derek looked at his united children with surprise and pride, and this sight clearly did not please his sister.

"Well, and how do you intend to prove his innocence?" the mistress of the house asked sarcastically.

"We can check the surveillance camera footage," Ayden proposed impassively, "They're installed in the hallway."

Tod noticeably perked up and threw a frightened look at his brother.

"B-but the cameras… they haven't been working all this time…"

"Haven't been working until I personally fixed them this afternoon," the young drake said clearly, and there was no longer any doubt in his eyes about who the real culprit was.

Tod's eyes darted around the faces of those gathered, looking for a way out. And suddenly his face lit up with a new, insidious idea.

"Sorry, Mommy…" the little one sobbed, again adopting the appearance of an unfortunate victim, "It… it was me who took your brooch. But it's their fault!" he pointed his finger at Louie and the twins, "They've been bullying me all the time! I just wanted to teach them a lesson so they would never come to our house again! They… they're so mean and awful!"

"What?!" Ethan exclaimed, "That's a brazen lie! We haven't said a word to him today!"

"Mother," Ayden said firmly, "I spent almost the entire day with the ducklings and can confirm that they didn't even speak to Tod, let alone bully him. I always tell the truth, and you know that."

Catherine, knowing that her eldest son was incapable of lying, frowned and measured her younger son with a heavy gaze.

"You're punished, young man! And punished severely! March to your room, right now!"

Tod looked at her in complete bewilderment, clearly not expecting his cunning plan to collapse like this.

"B-but, Mom…"

"I said—quickly!"

The child snorted viciously but, realizing the game was lost, reluctantly trudged towards the door, throwing a look full of hatred at Louie. The other children breathed a sigh of relief. Derek looked at his sister with a silent but eloquent reproach.

"I think you have something to say to Fred, Catherine. You were unfair."

"And what else is missing!" the woman snorted, "As if I'm going to apologize to Della's offspring!"

Louie had gotten used to this nickname over the day, but it didn't become any more pleasant. Derek's face became completely inscrutable.

"You were wrong, and you know it."

"But I was right when I told you to stop all these relationships with the Ducks!" his sister threw in his face furiously, "I warned you that Della was a bad choice! And I was right!"

With these words, Catherine turned sharply and left the room, slamming the door loudly.

"Ugh, I'll talk to her…" Ayden sighed wearily and followed his mother.

The twins immediately grabbed Louie's hands, trying to calm him down. Derek approached and knelt down to be at the children's level.

"Oh, Fred, forgive me for her terrible behavior," the villain said with sincere regret, "Catherine has always been so… difficult."

"It's nothing… I'm getting used to it," Louie replied quietly, but his voice held deep weariness. Derek ruffled his hair with a bitter smile.

---

The twins spent the rest of the night in their older brother's room, chatting about anything to distract him and themselves.

"Well, Louie," Amanda said with a touch of irony, comfortably settling down and resting her head on his right shoulder, "consider yourself officially initiated and accepted into our exclusive 'We Hate Tod with All Our Heart' club. I must admit, he was much more sophisticated with you than he ever was with us."

"M-mm, now I understand you perfectly," Louie replied with a bitter smirk, "That branch of our family is truly awful…"

"Except for Ayden," Ethan immediately corrected, settling on the other side of his brother.

"Except for Ayden," the eldest confirmed unanimously and firmly.

"But why does Aunt Catherine hate your mom so much?" Amanda asked in a sleepy, thoughtful voice, resting her head now on Louie's knees. She looked straight into his green eyes, searching for an answer.

"I don't know…" the heir admitted honestly, "But it seems to be mutual…"

"Strange…" the girl drawled.

"What about your brothers? How do they feel about the Balcoms?" Ethan asked his own question, comfortably settling on the bed next to them.

"I don't think they're even aware of your existence. I myself didn't know I had a father for all eleven years, which means they didn't know either."

"Come on," Ethan exclaimed with playful indignation, "you mean to say you didn't know you had such wonderful brother and sister? Incredible!"

"Well, you didn't know about us," Louie parried, "I still remember your faces at the moment of our first meeting. Shock is putting it mildly."

"As if yours wasn't the same!" Ethan didn't yield.

Both brothers chuckled quietly, but this time Amanda didn't join them. Looking at her, they saw that the younger one was fast asleep, her breathing even and deep.

"Hah, well, would you look at that, she fell asleep," Louie said, arranging himself more carefully on the pillows so as not to disturb his sister's sleep, "Just like a kitten. And now you can't get her to move."

Ethan lay back down and closed his eyes, his voice becoming quiet and sleepy.

"Still… you're not bad," the boy whispered, "I'm glad… that you're with us…"

"Oh, thank you…" Louie replied quietly, "I'm glad to hear that…"

Not waiting for an answer, the eldest looked at Ethan and saw that he, like his sister, had already sunk into sleep. A soft, peaceful smile appeared on Louie's beak. He looked at Amanda again, carefully moved a strand of hair that had fallen on her face, and made himself comfortable.

Louie loved these two more than life itself. So he didn't move Amanda's head from his legs, afraid to wake her, even though he was sitting in a rather uncomfortable position. But the fatigue from this long and emotionally intense day won, and soon the former Duck himself fell into a deep, healing sleep, surrounded by the warmth and trust of his younger brother and sister.

Chapter Text

Louie's hot breath, escaping his beak, immediately swirled into thick, milky-white vapor. His limbs, numb with cold, burned with a dull, aching pain. Every step was an immense effort, as if his legs were shackled in invisible chains of ice. All around, as far as the eye could see, stretched an absolute, all-consuming darkness, thick and viscous as tar. It didn't just hide the path—it devoured light, sound, and hope itself.

Louie hated this darkness with all his heart, being a naturally timid child, but his mind understood: this was just another tormenting nightmare. And the only way to wake up was to see it through, to reach whatever awaited him at the end.

Suddenly, in the impenetrable gloom, torches flared to life one after another. Their flickering flames cast long shadows, pointing the way. Louie took a desperate, ragged breath. His body was racked with a fine tremble from the biting cold, but he forced himself to take a step.

From the cold and fear, his feathers stood on end, and a persistent, monotonous pain throbbed in his temples. Pressing a palm to his forehead, the heir moved forward with quick but unsteady steps, heading towards the deceptive, saving light. Even his eternal companion—the all-pervasive fear—seemed to have abandoned him. Here, in this trap of his own mind, he faced no real danger. At least, that's what the child wanted to believe.

Louie walked for what felt like an eternity, but the landscape didn't change: one torch replaced another, an endless string of fiery beacons in an ocean of darkness. Despair washed over him in a new wave. The young villain, gathering his last strength, broke into a run, hoping speed would help him escape this hopeless maze.

And at that very moment, all the light vanished at once, as if swallowed by something. Louie's heart, freezing for an instant, began to beat with frantic frequency, desperately drumming against his ribcage. He spun around, looking into the darkness with frightened eyes, vainly hoping to see even a spark, a glimmer.

Taking a careless step back, the boy plunged into an abyss. A scream caught in his throat as he landed with a sharp jolt on an invisible, icy, and incredibly hard surface. But then, his eyes, accustomed to the gloom, were pierced by a dim, flickering light. Louie squeezed his eyes shut, recoiling from the sudden pain.

Coming to his senses, the duckling raised his head and saw the one he expected, but whose meeting he wished for least in the world. Standing before him, arms crossed over his chest and beak stretched into a sly, smug grin, was Fred. Louie snorted indignantly, struggling to his knees, feeling the heavy, studying gaze of his double upon him, a gaze that seemed to scan his every movement, every tremor.

"Hello, Llewellyn!" Fred's voice was sweet as poison. "You know, I really didn't like how you tried to get rid of me."

"Those were the best days, because they were without you!" the frozen duckling exhaled with unconcealed disgust, a tremble in his voice. He shoved his numb hands into the pockets of his green hoodie, trying to warm them with the meager remnants of heat.

Fred just shook his head, and his smile grew wider, even more arrogant. A chuckle escaped his chest—dry and unpleasant, sending shivers down Louie's spine.

"You really think I wasn't with you? I'm inside you! And I don't just appear in your nightmares. I can control you anytime!"

"No, you can't!" Louie's voice wavered. "If you could, you would have done it already!"

Fred laughed again, but this time his laughter escalated into a manic cackle, echoing through the void.

"You're right about that. But don't forget, your poor, pathetic, worthless mind is melting away like April snow with each passing day. You can't get rid of me. I am a part of you. Whether you want it or not!"

Louie looked in horror into the mad eyes of the evil personality, taking a step back.

"Why? Why do you want to control my body so badly?"

"I am the one who can truly be called Frederick Balcom!" Fred hissed, his voice growing stricter. "I am the villain, and you are just a weakling! You suffer because of your 'killer' status, you're afraid to think about the Ducks, you tremble for Ethan and Amanda! Disgusting! We should eliminate them to become the sole heirs, not befriend these worthless nobodies!" the double's shout, full of hatred and anger, crashed down upon the frightened child.

Something inside Louie snapped at these words. Instead of fear, a fierce, blind rage boiled in his chest. He clenched his fists so hard his fingers hurt, and shot his double a ferocious, hateful look.

"And why shouldn't I decide how Frederick Balcom should behave?" the heir's voice suddenly strengthened, sounding with unexpected power. "If you haven't forgotten, it's still me! And don't you dare touch the twins! If a single feather falls from their heads, I'll kill you! I don't know how, but I'll find a way!"

Fred looked at Louie for a few seconds with genuine surprise, but soon his beak was twisted by the familiar insane smile.

"Kill? Me? Interesting, how exactly?" the evil personality laughed. "Get rid of me—and you die yourself! You're too much of a coward even for that!" Fred growled through his laughter, and a long, sharp knife seemed to materialize out of nowhere in his hand. He shoved Louie sharply, and the boy fell onto the cold floor with a dull thud.

Eyes wide with horror and disbelief, the boy stared at the evil personality. He scrambled backward, his back hitting a stone wall. There was no escape. Fred closed in, looming over the child, bringing his face so close that Louie felt his icy breath.

"Believe me, it won't take long to break you. And very soon, I'll get everything I want!" the double hissed right into his ear, and with a sharp, precise movement, plunged the knife into the duckling's right arm. A sharp, burning, unbearable pain pierced Louie's body. He screamed, and tears, hot and salty, streamed from his tormented green eyes.

Fred took a step back, watching as the bleeding child convulsively clutched his wound, trying to stop the crimson stain spreading across the fabric. That same, arrogant smirk was frozen on his beak.

---

Louie woke from the nightmare with a sharp gasp that seemed to tear from his very chest. The room was flooded with morning light, but his own world was still colored by the dream. His pillow was wet with tears, and his heart was pounding wildly, as if trying to break free from its cage of ribs. The boy let out a strained sigh and covered his face with his hands, feeling his fingers tremble. And then he felt a warm, sticky moisture on his feathers. Slowly, with a sense of foreboding, the duckling looked at his hands. From his right palm, exactly mirroring the nightmare wound, scarlet, real blood was oozing. Could it really not have been just a dream?

Louie jumped out of bed and ran to the nightstand where a small first-aid kit was stored. Frantically pulling out bandages, he struggled, using only one hand, to wrap the wound. The blood gradually stopped, but an icy horror had already seeped into his heart. Putting the first-aid kit away, the heir glanced at the small pouch Amanda had given him once.

"Why didn't the dream berries help...?" Louie muttered quietly, almost in a whisper. He slipped a hand inside the pouch but found only emptiness. The duckling shook it, hoping to hear at least a faint rustle, but nothing changed. Louie groaned in despair: those berries had been his only salvation from Fred and the tormenting nightmares.

Quickly changing into his soldier's uniform, the green-eyed duck slipped out of his room and froze on the threshold: in the common living room, Amanda was sitting, buried in a thick encyclopedia. A small jerboa was dozing on her shoulder. The girl was smiling as she read something, but hearing footsteps, she immediately looked up.

"Good morning. Louie, did you know that jerboas like Gerald can teleport anyone? But they die in the process. That's just awful..."

"Yeah, sad..." Louie nodded mechanically, his thoughts far away. "But, Amanda, I... need your help..." his voice sounded tired and broken.

"What's wrong?" the girl immediately became alert, slamming the book shut. She saw her brother's gloomy face, the dark circles under his eyes, and grew seriously worried.

"I ran out of dream berries. Can we find more?" Louie said guiltily.

Amanda stared at the boy with such bewilderment and stern seriousness that it felt like ice shackled the older brother.

"How did you run out?!" the green-eyed girl's voice rose a pitch. "I gave you a whole bag! Did you eat it all in a couple of weeks?!"

"Y-yes..." Louie looked down. "What's the big deal...?"

"WHAT?!" the younger girl jumped up from the sofa. "I told you not to take them often! You can only have them once a month! Were you eating them every day?!"

Louie looked into the girl's eyes, which swirled with a mix of anxiety, anger, and fear.

"Not every day..." the heir muttered. "I just didn't want to see Fred again..."

Amanda, seeing the frightened look on her brother's face, made an effort and lowered her voice a little.

"Louie, that's dangerous. Come on, I'll give you a sedative," the sister said decisively, grabbing his right hand, and the boy couldn't suppress a choked groan. Amanda immediately loosened her grip and turned to him sharply, her eyes silently asking, "What's wrong?"

"Don't mind it, I just..."

But the younger girl wasn't listening anymore. She carefully but persistently pulled back the sleeve of her brother's uniform. Seeing the blood-soaked bandage, Amanda gasped and reached to unwrap it, but Louie flinched and pressed his hand to his chest.

"What is this? Where did you get this wound? Why didn't you say anything?" the girl bombarded him with questions, her face twisted with concern and genuine horror.

Louie hesitated, but under his sister's warm, insistent gaze, he gave in.

"I had a nightmare... Fred stabbed me in the hand with a knife. But I don't understand... how did the wound stay in the real world?"

The boy looked up at his sister and saw her face pale with fear. She was lost in thought, a finger pressed to her beak.

"This... this is very bad... Okay, let's go, we need to treat the wound immediately!"

Taking her brother by the elbow, this time with extreme caution, Amanda led him to her room. Sitting Louie on the edge of the bed, she began to frantically rummage through her dresser, sorting through vials and packets. The older brother noticed that the girl was muttering something under her breath, and that made him even more anxious.

"It doesn't hurt that much anymore, if you're busy, you don't have to..."

"Quiet!" Amanda snorted, not stopping her search. Suddenly, she gasped joyfully. "Here! Found it!"

The heiress ran over to Louie with an armful of various dried herbs. Carefully pulling back the bloodied sleeve, she began to examine the wound.

"What's that?" Louie asked curiously, pointing to the bunches of plants.

"Medicinal herbs. Very rare, I don't have much left, but now is exactly the time. What's happening to you... scares me."

Amanda's face became serious again. She cautiously reached for her brother's hand. Louie didn't resist, letting her act. But the moment her fingers almost touched him, a familiar, burning sensation flared up in his hand. The boy cried out loudly and jerked back.

"What's wrong with you? I haven't even touched you yet!" the sister exclaimed irritably, suspecting the older one was messing with her.

"I know! It's just... it just happens to me. Don't pay attention."

"What happens?" the girl's gaze became intent and firm.

"Burning... in my hand. It started a few weeks ago, when I started eating the dream berries. Right here," Louie pointed to his mark, which had been splattered with drops of blood.

"Your mark? But why?"

"I don't know myself. It just... hurts."

Amanda jumped up sharply, her eyes darting around. The younger girl ran to her desk, opened an elegant box, and took out a small vial with a cloudy liquid.

"Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?!" Amanda's voice trembled with rising panic.

"What's the big deal? What's happening?" Louie felt his own fear returning.

The girl took a deep breath, trying to pull herself together. She sat down next to him, took the herbs, and as she applied them to the wound, began to explain. Her voice became quiet and serious.

"The mark... it's connected to your evil personality. When you feel the burning, the double is trying to establish contact with you, to gain control over your mind."

Making sure all the plants were in place, Amanda whispered a short, strange incantation in a language unfamiliar to Louie. He felt a short, sharp wave of pain pass through his arm, and squeezed his eyes shut. But a moment later, long-awaited relief came. The pain and burning vanished. Cautiously glancing at his hand, the heir saw that the wound had disappeared without a trace, leaving behind only dried blood. He looked at his sister in amazement, who was watching his reaction.

"Whoa... It worked! Thank you!"

"You're welcome," the girl gave a weak smile. "But I'm still worried about your mark..."

Amanda sighed bitterly and picked up her mother's worn diary from the bedside table. Louie watched as she flipped through the yellowed pages, and a heavy feeling of guilt washed over him.

"Sorry... I didn't mean to bother you."

"Bother me?" Amanda looked up at him. "What if your evil personality had won? Louie, it's important for me to know what's happening to you! Promise you'll tell us about everything! We're your family, why are you so afraid to trust us?"

"Yes, but..." Louie lowered his eyes.

The boy understood she was right, but the twins had it tough themselves. Burdening them with his nightmares and fears seemed selfish to him. Amanda noticed his dejected look and suddenly hugged her brother as tightly as she could. Louie flinched in surprise.

"Just know that we're always here for you! What else is family for?" the girl tried to say it as cheerfully as possible, hoping to dispel his dark thoughts.

"Okay... Thank you, Amanda..." Louie thanked quietly, gently pulling away.

"Try to worry less, okay?" the younger one's voice became serious again. "I know it's hard for you, but if you keep going like this, you'll push yourself to the brink, and then it will be too late..."

Louie nodded silently, slowly, understanding that Amanda was telling the truth.

---

"What other interesting things did you read about?" Louie asked later, sitting next to his sister in the common living room.

"These jerboas are incredibly smart and cunning! I think we don't..." Amanda didn't get to finish, as the door swung open noisily and Ethan flew into the room, waving a brightly colored poster rolled into a tube. Both ducklings turned to him in surprise.

"Look what I got in the city!" the child exclaimed, unrolling the poster with a triumphant look. His eyes shone with delight.

"A party..." Louie said skeptically. "Just what we need right now..."

"Not 'just a party'!" Ethan corrected the older one. "It's a party exclusively for heirs!"

The boy's smile grew even wider and more radiant, his gaze eagerly shifting from his brother to his sister.

"Are you serious?" Amanda asked indifferently, sinking back into her book.

"Come on, you guys! It'll be fun! I'm sure everyone will be waiting for us!"

"What makes you think that?" Louie chimed in.

"Because we're important people!" Ethan blurted out smugly, shoving the poster into Louie's hands and immediately starting to type something feverishly on his bracelet.

Amanda put the book down and leaned against her brother to get a better look at the poster.

"I'm not sure Father will let us go..." Louie remarked doubtfully.

Ethan immediately brought his bracelet up to their faces, showing a message from Derek.

"He doesn't mind! Moreover, he 'strongly recommends' we show up there to maintain our status!"

Louie shifted his gaze from the beaming Ethan to Amanda, who just shrugged, indicating she would accept any decision he made.

"Well... okay," Louie gave in. "It's tonight, if I understood correctly?"

"Yep!" Ethan almost jumped for joy. "So I suggest you start getting ready. As bearers of the great Balcom name, we must shine brighter than anyone!"

---

"Where do you even get so many jackets?" Louie couldn't help but ask, watching as Ethan enthusiastically chose between three dark green suits that looked absolutely identical to him. "You're in a new one every time."

The younger one just chuckled smugly, blowing off an invisible speck of dust from his shirt.

"We're rich, bro, take a guess. Here's a better question: why are you always in the same thing? You have a whole wardrobe!"

"I don't know," Louie shrugged. "I'm just used to it. And green suits me, admit it!"

Ethan gave his brother an appraising look and nodded.

"Green suits all of us. And it's all thanks to our family trait," the boy said proudly, pointing his fingers at his own emerald eyes, which all the Balcoms shared.

"You're right about that. Okay, where's Amanda?" Louie walked over to her room and knocked.

The door opened, and his sister stood on the threshold in an elegant purple dress, but with a face full of despair. Her hair was disheveled.

"What? You have no idea how hard it is to braid your own hair like this!" the younger girl showed her brothers an old photograph of a girl duck in the exact same dress, with an exquisite braid wrapped around her head like a crown and soft waves of hair. A velvet flower was nestled in the center of the hairstyle.

"And why do you need to look exactly like Mom?" Ethan asked with genuine bewilderment.

"Is that your mom?" Louie asked quietly, with admiration, taking the photograph.

"Yep..."

"She's... very beautiful," the older one said with a warm but somewhat sad smile.

Ethan pulled Amanda closer and proudly gestured to himself and her.

"Well, of course! Such beautiful parents simply can't have ugly children!"

Louie smiled bitterly again, examining the picture. His thoughts drifted to memories of Della, his own mother. These thoughts were so tangled and painful that the duckling no longer knew if he even wanted to see her again.

"Do you really need to look so much like her?" Louie finally asked with a light sigh.

"Yes!" Amanda replied firmly and without a shadow of doubt.

Louie muttered something under his breath. Memories surfaced of evenings spent playing cards with his brothers and friend. Sometimes he lost, and as a penalty, he had to fulfill their wishes. Webby always ordered something cute—like having him braid her hair. So, unlike his twins, Louie had acquired an unexpected skill.

"Alright, sit down. I'll do your hair just like that."

The twins stared at the older one in amazement. Amanda beamed.

"Really?! You know how?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Cool, cool, cool!" the girl chirped, shoving a comb and a handful of hairpins into her brother's hands. They settled on the sofa, while Ethan watched the scene with undisguised curiosity.

"Never would have thought you possessed such an art."

"Had to," Louie smirked. "Main advice—never lose to Webby at cards!"

"I don't even know who that is!" Ethan snorted. Louie gave a strained chuckle and got to work.

The duckling began carefully combing his sister's hair, untangling the unruly strands. They were surprisingly soft and silky. Louie began braiding the plait with unexpected ease. He remembered his brothers teasing him, and that same sad smile reappeared on his beak.

As the heir's fingers deftly intertwined the strands, Ethan paced the room, rehearsing his upcoming entrance.

"All eyes will be on me, I'm sure! After all, I am Ethan Ares Balcom!"

"Ares?" Louie asked with interest, not taking his eyes off his work.

"Yeah, my middle name. On the Continent of Evil, they're given after gods. Ares is the god of war!"

"And mine is Selene," Amanda added. "After the goddess..."

"Of the moon. I know," Louie quietly interrupted her, and an awkward pause hung in the room for a moment.

"Didn't know you were into Greek mythology," Ethan remarked, surprised.

Louie froze, his fingers stopping in his sister's hair. The twins exchanged glances.

"I'm not... I just remembered it from our first meeting."

"You've seen the real Selene?" Amanda exclaimed with some disbelief. "Do they really exist?"

"They exist," Louie nodded. "Once, our plane crashed on Itakryaka, and there we met Selene, Storkules, and Zeus. By the way, the last one is a real scoundrel!" the older one's voice became sharp, and images of the Ducks flashed in his memory.

The twins, however, looked at him with undisguised envy and admiration.

"That's incredible!" Ethan exclaimed. "And I thought gods were just myths! You're so lucky that you and your family traveled so much!"

Louie snorted. Yes, Itakryaka was beautiful, but too often their adventures ended with him being a hair's breadth from death. The boy still shuddered at the memory of that all-consuming fear.

"Done!" Louie grunted, trying to hide his irritation. He took a small mirror from the coffee table and handed it to Amanda.

The hairstyle wasn't an exact copy of the one in the picture, but it was incredibly beautiful. The girl squealed with delight and literally jumped into the duckling's arms.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're the best brother in the world!"

Louie hugged her back, embarrassed, and quickly freed himself.

"I think it's time for us to go."

---

The bright neon signs of the megalopolis on the Continent of Evil blazed in the night like molten gold and poisonous emerald, reflecting off the black lacquered facades of limousines and the wet, polished-to-a-mirror-shine cobblestones. The air was thick and heavy, smelling of ozone, expensive cigars, and a faint, unsettling sweetness.

The ducklings had arrived at the very epicenter of nightlife—the "Obsidian" building, which rose into the sky like a giant, sharpened fang carved from black glass and cold metal. Its walls, perfectly smooth and seamless, absorbed light, only occasionally flashing with reflections from spotlights that picked out the silhouettes of arriving guests from the darkness.

At the entrance, which more resembled a portal to another dimension, the children's path was blocked by the massive figure of an eagle security guard. His uniform fit impeccably, emphasizing every muscle. His eyes were hidden behind the matte glass of dark sunglasses.

"State your names and present your identifiers," the guard's voice was low, mechanical, and completely devoid of intonation.

The children, feeling suddenly timid, raised their hands one by one, their family marks—intricate dark patterns as if drawn under the skin with glowing ink.

"Ethan Ares Balcom!"

"Amanda Selene Balcom!"

"Frederick Balcom!"

The guard inclined his head a barely perceptible degree, his face not a muscle moving. He pressed an almost invisible button, and a velvet rope fell away with a quiet rustle.

"Access granted. Welcome to the Obsidian, heirs Balcom."

Crossing the threshold, the green-eyed ones were deafened. A sound wave physically crashed over them, making their feathers vibrate. The club space was drowned in ritual semi-darkness, torn by dazzling laser beams tracing complex geometric figures in the air. In the center, on a multi-level platform under a transparent, glowing floor, a mass of dancing bodies swirled, bathed in pulsating neon colors—blood-red, poisonous purple, electric blue.

"I wonder why the guard needs sunglasses if it's been night for a long time?" Louie joked, barely audible over the noise, glancing towards the door. "Looks like he's afraid of being blinded by his own coolness."

"To look more respectable, I guess," Amanda suggested, and the trio laughed quietly, their laughter swallowed by the general din.

"And I love parties like this!" Ethan exclaimed enthusiastically, and his gaze, like a magnet, was drawn to the giant buffet table, groaning under the weight of bizarre snacks.

The dishes were arranged with mathematical precision, their colors too bright, too perfect to be real. Ethan rushed forward like a hungry predator, while his brother and sister, exchanging a slight smirk, reluctantly followed him.

Louie picked up a miniature canapé on a piece of baguette, topped with a perfect sphere of pink caviar. Taking a cautious bite, he felt only a mixture of tasteless, salty slime and the hard, lifeless texture of the bread. The taste was so synthetic that a longing for Mrs. Beakley's juicy, flavorful dishes squeezed his throat in a painful lump.

"Ugh," Louie exhaled, setting the half-eaten piece aside. "Why does all the food on the Continent of Evil taste like construction foam with 'luxury' flavoring? I'd rather eat a jelly sandwich made by Dewey!"

Ethan, who had already swallowed a dozen colorful rolls, made a face as if he'd eaten a lemon. His hopes for a gastronomic celebration were dashed.

"Father says such food is the key to health, an ascetic spirit, and purity of thought," Amanda quoted with a hint of skepticism, not having dared to try anything.

The boys snorted in unison, turning away from the table in disdain. Louie's gaze swept across the hall and noticed one detail: almost every guest, be it a teenager or a child, had a bodyguard standing behind them, in similarly dark suits with equally empty stares.

"Wait, why does practically everyone here have personal security? What about us?" the older one asked quietly, leaning towards his brother and sister.

"Let me remind you, in case you've forgotten," Ethan straightened up to his full, albeit short, height, trying to look impressive, "We are the direct heirs of Derek Balcom. They're even afraid to touch us. We're a walking red flag. And if some loser with an under-digested brain does risk it, we can handle it ourselves. Remember all those endless hours in the training hall when you were falling down exhausted!"

Louie looked at Amanda, seeking confirmation. She nodded confidently, stroking the feathers on her wrist near her mark. Her calm, cold and confident, was the best answer for him.

"Amanda, Ethan, Fred! Good to see you!" came Brielle's voice. The girl, beaming with a dazzling smile, glided over to them. Her dress of pearlescent soft fabric shimmered with all the colors of the rainbow, like the wing of a tropical butterfly.

"Bree!" Ethan ran up to his friend, his gloom instantly evaporating, replaced by youthful delight. "How are you?"

"Great! And you? Not bored here yet?"

"Holding up so far," Louie smiled. "Didn't think we'd meet at least one truly friendly face here."

"The whole so-called 'elite' is gathered here," Brielle replied with light but biting irony. "I was one hundred percent sure you'd come! Without you, any heirs' evening is just a boring shareholders' meeting."

"I told you!" Ethan exclaimed triumphantly, turning to his brother and sister. "They're waiting for us!"

Amanda rolled her eyes, though she couldn't hide a slight, embarrassed smile touching the corners of her beak. She liked their status, the power it gave, but her brother sometimes overdid it, turning them from significant figures into walking self-adoration.

"Guess again, loser!"

A sharp, piercing voice cut through the club's din, making everyone flinch and turn around. Standing before the children was a girl in a dazzling, crystal-studded golden dress, with her beak held high and a gaze full of such unmotivated contempt it could poison you.

At the sight of the heiress, the faces of Amanda, Ethan, and Brielle darkened simultaneously. Louie felt the atmosphere around them instantly become thick and viscous, like syrup.

"What do you want, Olivia?" Ethan grumbled, looking at her with obvious, unconcealed irritation, as if she were a pesky fly.

"Well, well, the whole disgrace of our society is gathered," the girl said, sweeping the children with her gaze in a sweet but poisonous tone. "I hope you don't seriously think anyone will pay attention to you? You're just extras here. Nobodies."

"And who are you, exactly, to decide who's a nobody and who isn't?" Louie couldn't hold back. His question sounded not like curiosity, but a direct, challenging provocation.

The girl flushed, her cheeks under her feathers turning a crimson hue, her eyes narrowing.

"Ugh, don't you recognize her?" Ethan interjected with exaggerated sarcasm, enjoying the moment. "This is Olivia, Nolan's younger sister. She still can't get over that our Amanda effortlessly snatched the title of 'Most Beautiful and Promising Heiress of the Continent of Evil' from under her beak a year and a half ago. Still can't get over it, can you, Olivia?"

"How dare you speak to me like that!" Olivia turned purple, and her feathers bristled. "She only won because of your loud last name! The judges chickened out and voted out of fear, not for beauty!"

"But the voting, if you recall, was completely anonymous and conducted under the control of a neutral arbiter," Brielle countered calmly but firmly, standing shoulder to shoulder with Amanda. "If they had chosen you, they would have been absolutely fine. No one would have even known."

"You... you all!.." Olivia was choking with rage, unable to find words worthy of her anger.

"What 'you'?" Ethan taunted the rival, reveling in her humiliation. "We are beautiful? Talented? Irresistible? We agree with all of the above."

Unable to bear it, the enraged heiress spun around with a force that nearly cracked the floor and stalked off, her golden dress swirling furiously, sweeping a couple of glasses from their path.

"Phew," Amanda exhaled quietly, finally regaining her power of speech.

"What a disgusting creature," Louie said with unconcealed revulsion, watching the heiress leave. The others nodded silently, feeling the unpleasant aftertaste of the encounter ruining the whole evening.

"How are your parents, Brielle?" Ethan asked, returning to the pleasant atmosphere. The children were standing on the second floor, where they had hurried because it was definitely quieter and calmer than downstairs.

Louie, however, felt a slight but unpleasant pang of loneliness. He stood slightly apart while the twins and Brielle animatedly discussed mutual acquaintances, past mischief, and local gossip—all of it a dark forest to him. He remembered Webby, her kind smile, and how she probably felt just as out of place in the early days of their acquaintance, when the triplets were immersed headfirst in their shared memories and jokes. A soft, sad smile, full of nostalgia for those simple, clear days, appeared on the green-eyed duckling's beak.

Suddenly, Louie felt a light, almost weightless touch on his arm. It was Amanda.

"Everything okay?" his sister asked quietly, her green eyes looking at him with concern. "I thought you looked tired. Or are you feeling unwell."

"Everything's fine," the older one flinched, emerging from his memories. "Just... thinking. A little..."

Amanda looked at her brother with slight, understanding doubt, but didn't press, respecting his boundaries. When she moved back to the chatting Ethan and Brielle, Louie sighed with relief and, to occupy his hands, took a tall glass of scarlet, almost blood-red liquid from a passing waiter's tray, in which thousands of sparkling bubbles fizzled.

Taking a small, cautious sip, the heir winced—the drink was incredibly bitter, with an astringent aftertaste of burnt herbs and metal. Leaving it unfinished, he moved to the ornate, black wrought-iron balcony railing, looking down at the dancers below from a bird's-eye view.

Out of the corner of his eye, Louie caught a short, bright, almost blinding flash. He'd been photographed. The boy tensed slightly but didn't show it. "Paparazzi," flashed his habitual thought. The duckling had long grown accustomed to his life becoming public.

The heir's wandering gaze once again picked out Olivia from the crowd. She was whispering something hotly and viciously into her entourage's ear and, with a determined air, headed for the stairs leading to their level. Louie snorted, not giving it much thought, and, still holding his glass, returned to his family. Amanda was just finishing a story.

"And that's why you should never, hear me, never anger jerboas!"

Ethan and Brielle laughed loudly, but their merriment was rudely and instantly interrupted. Olivia, having crept up silently from behind, let out a feigned, theatrical gasp and deliberately, with a swing, overturned her own full-to-the-brim glass right onto Amanda. The sticky, scarlet, blood-like liquid poured onto the girl's snow-white feathers, mercilessly drenching her beautiful purple dress, streaming down her arms, and irrevocably destroying the perfect, painstakingly created hairstyle.

"Oops, Amanda, darling, I'm so sorry, I'm so clumsy!" Olivia covered her beak with her hand, but her eyes, narrow and shining, radiated pure, unadulterated schadenfreude and triumph.

Amanda froze in place. Her eyes widened in shock, then instantly filled with hot, treacherous tears that she desperately, convulsively tried to hold back, knowing that on the Continent of Evil, tears were the most terrible, unforgivable disgrace for nobility, a sign of weakness. Her entire image, so carefully and lovingly created based on the photograph of her mother, was hopelessly, irrevocably ruined. The heiress felt the sticky, cold, and disgusting liquid seeping through her clothes to her feathers.

"Do you seriously think we believe that was an accident?!" Ethan cried out, clenching his fists. He took a step forward, and Brielle barely managed to grab his arm.

The entire vicinity froze. Dozens, hundreds of eyes stared at them. The music didn't stop, but a zone of tense silence formed around the Balcoms. Brielle and the brothers looked at Olivia with such silent, scorching indignation that the very air around them seemed to crackle with static electricity. But she just theatrically spread her hands, playing the innocent victim of circumstances.

"Of course, it was an accident! I'm really, VERY sorry!" the young villainess deliberately drew out her words, savoring every second of Amanda's humiliation.

Olivia knew perfectly well that as long as she played this pitiful role, the Balcoms were powerless. Any retaliatory aggression would look like unmotivated cruelty. The brothers and friend seethed with impotent rage, feeling trapped. Amanda, her head bowed, trying to become invisible, to retreat into herself, to hide the tremors running through her body.

Louie saw it all. He saw how his sister's shoulder trembled finely, how the girl was holding back from sobbing, how tears, despite all her efforts, were already leaving wet trails on her feathers. And at that very moment, on the very edge of his consciousness, clearly, imperatively, and with a soul-chilling foreignness, a voice sounded. "Act! Don't let her humiliate us!"

And Louie acted. On autopilot, almost without thinking, driven by a sudden, furious impulse, the boy stepped forward sharply. His fingers clenched his own, almost full glass with such force that the thin glass nearly cracked.

"Hey, Olivia!" the heir's voice rang out loud and clear, cutting through the tense silence.

The girl turned, her smug smile not yet faded, and at that same moment, a stream of scarlet, bitter liquid hit her full in the face, flooding her eyes, beak, and streaming down her dazzling, expensive golden dress.

A tomb-like, deafening silence hung in the air, and then a muffled whisper of surprise, outrage, and... admiration rippled through the hall like a shockwave. Ethan, Brielle, and even Amanda herself looked at Louie with mouths agape, unable to believe what had happened. Guests whispered at their tables, openly pointing fingers at them.

Ethan slowly, like a true villain from a silent movie, broke into the widest, most pleased, and gloating smirk imaginable.

"How dare you?! Idiot!" Olivia screamed with such force that it seemed all the other glasses should have shattered. The sticky red slime streamed off her, turning her image into a parody. "Do you know what you'll get for this?! My father! My brother! They'll deal with you!"

Louie just shrugged, maintaining a mask of exaggerated incomprehension on his face. He didn't care about the disapproving and shocked looks, about the possible consequences. He saw how, across Amanda's face, through the tears and shame, a shadow of incredible, immense relief and even gratitude passed, and in that moment, that was all that mattered to him.

"Oops, sorry, Olivia," Louie said with emphasized, terribly fake innocence, spreading his hands. "I'm so clumsy... I guess it's contagious."

Ethan snorted, unable to hold back a stifled chuckle. Amanda, still trembling, looked at her brother with frightened but immensely touched gratitude. Brielle squeezed her hand tighter, trying to convey her support.

"You're incredibly lucky my brother didn't grace this plebeian gathering with his presence!" Olivia hissed, her voice breaking into a screech. "You'd all be dead already!"

"What can you do," Louie huffed with pathos. "Unfortunate accidents. They, you know, happen. Out of the blue."

Gathering the remnants of her dignity, Olivia, covered in crimson, shameful stains, her face contorted with fury, turned and, pushing aside a stunned servant, departed, leaving a wet, sticky trail behind her.

When the tension finally subsided and the curious glances gradually turned away from them, the brothers surrounded Amanda, creating a living barrier around her.

"It's okay, she got what she deserved," Ethan tried to comfort the twin, patting her shoulder. "A real villainess should be able to stand up for herself, even if her brother does it."

But Amanda just remained silent, swallowing tears and looking at the floor. Her shoulders still shook faintly. Brielle gently but firmly took her by the hand.

"Come with me. There's a dressing room here. I'll get you fixed up. Everything will be okay."

The ducklings, ignoring the whispers, headed towards the exit from the main hall. Ethan and Louie remained waiting by a huge marble fountain, in the center of which jets of ultraviolet-glowing liquid spurted, and statues of chimeras made of black granite watched them with empty eye sockets. Louie noticed, for the umpteenth time, a short, quick flash somewhere in the crowd by the columns.

"Ethan," the older one said warily, lowering his voice, "Don't you think we're being watched too closely? Not just looked at, but... followed."

Ethan shrugged, skeptically surveying the hall.

"After what you did, we're the talk of the town. Relax. They're just curious looks."

"That's not what I mean..." Louie muttered stubbornly, but didn't insist.

---

In the sterile, dark-blue dressing room, finished with metal and frosted glass, Brielle immediately took charge, demonstrating decent organizational skills.

"Shower first," she ordered softly but brooking no argument, pointing Amanda towards the bathroom door. "Wash off all that... filth. And I'll prepare a new dress for you. A clean one."

"But where from?" Amanda asked with weak bewilderment, her gaze extinguished.

"I, as always, couldn't choose between two outfits," Brielle smiled encouragingly. "So I took both. Now your choice is made for you by fate itself."

Left alone in the shower stall, Amanda finally allowed herself to cry. Hot, bitter, helpless tears rolled down her feathers, mixing with the streams of hot water that washed away the sticky pink syrup but couldn't wash away the feeling of humiliation. The girl looked at her reflection in the fogged-up mirror—disheveled, miserable, with reddened eyes. She removed the artificial rose that Louie had so carefully woven in and placed it on the sink, a symbol of ruined beauty.

The sticky color came off her feathers with difficulty, leaving pale, pinkish streaks like scars. Amanda scrubbed everything with a washcloth until her body was clean. Drying herself with a large towel and wrapping herself in it like a cocoon, she came out to Brielle.

The latter handed her a folded elegant dress the color of sea foam, embroidered with silver threads.

"Here. This will help. A new look for a new beginning."

Amanda gave a weak, bitter smile in return and went back to change.

---

"Well, our great defender and paranoid, calmed down?" Ethan asked his brother with a slight smirk when the girls finally emerged from the dressing room.

Amanda, in her new, aquamarine dress, looked more composed, her feathers neatly arranged, but deep in her green eyes, one could read a lingering weariness, dejection, and an all-consuming desire to disappear, to dissolve into the darkness.

"I want to leave..." the younger one whispered, looking at the floor as if guilty. "Please. I can't be here anymore."

The brothers instantly, without a single word of objection, agreed.

"Sorry, Bree, but we're heading out," Ethan said, while Louie was already taking Amanda by the hand, ready to lead her anywhere, just away from this place.

"Of course, I understand perfectly," Brielle nodded, looking at them with sympathy. "Take care. And... Fred, that was impressive."

And without looking back at the disapproving whispers and curious glances, the Balcom heirs left the shining, roaring "Obsidian," disappearing into the cold, indifferent night gloom of the city.

---

The darkness that had fallen on the road leading away from the shining "Obsidian" wasn't just an absence of light. It seemed the very air was saturated with an inky blackness that absorbed not only light but also sound, leaving only the muffled echo of the ducklings' own footsteps.

The road, winding off into the unknown, was drowning in pitch blackness. Not a single streetlight worked along its entire length, as if the infrastructure of the Continent of Evil itself refused to serve those who had fallen from grace. The air was cold and damp, making the children involuntarily shudder at every rustle—be it the whisper of a falling leaf, the distant howl of an unknown creature, or simply the creak of a branch. Every unfamiliar sound made the heirs' hearts beat wildly and their breath catch in their chests.

Louie, whose imagination was already fueled by nightmares, saw murderous horror in every shadow, in every rustle—an approaching threat. He could only make out the vague, blurry outlines of the twins moving ahead, and this was his only anchor, a thin thread connecting him to reality and preventing him from going insane in this all-consuming gloom.

His own nyctophobia, always his weakness, was now intensified by memories of Fred and the icy corridors of his dreams.

Louie instinctively stayed closer to his family, his hand often bumping into Amanda's or Ethan's, and this physical contact was a weak but vitally important comfort. The older one constantly shifted his gaze from one dark figure to the other, counting them, making sure they were still here, with him.

The road turned into an endless stream of muffled complaints: the children grumbled about the stupid party, the nasty Olivia, the piercing cold, and most of all, about this suffocating, hopeless darkness.

But strangely, Amanda, though frightened, felt much safer in this quiet, warm company of her brothers than in the center of the noisy, hostile hall full of fake smiles and poisonous glances.

"Are we even going in the right direction?" Louie exclaimed irritably, almost desperately, the former resident of sunny Duckburg.

The older one already regretted agreeing to step out this cursed evening, preferring a thousand times over to be training now rather than trudging through this pitch-black trap.

"I think so..." Amanda responded uncertainly, peering into the impenetrable dusk, her voice trembling from cold and uncertainty. "I think we came this way when we were driving..."

Suddenly, the girl's voice turned into a piercing, frightened shriek as Ethan, driven by a sudden foolish impulse to lighten the mood and conquer his own fear, grabbed her from behind by the shoulders with a quiet chuckle.

A reflex honed in hours of training kicked in. Amanda spun around sharply, with an agility unexpected for her fragile figure, twisted her brother's arm behind his back, and forcefully threw him onto the frozen, prickly ground. Only upon hearing his choked, "Ow, ow, okay, I give up!" did she realize it was just her twin, not a real threat.

"Ethan, you're a complete idiot!" the younger one exhaled, releasing him, her voice shaking from a mixture of adrenaline, relief, and anger.

Louie glanced in their direction and through the veil of darkness saw the dark figure of his brother getting up, brushing dirt and pine needles off his feathers, while his sister, as if seeking protection, pressed against him, the older one.

"That was kinda fun, though!" Ethan muttered, rubbing his bruised elbow, and let out a short, stifled laugh that sounded unnaturally loud and fake in the ringing silence, betraying his own nervousness.

Continuing their journey, the ducklings almost stopped talking. They walked, listening to the night, afraid to disturb the fragile, dangerous balance that reigned around them.

And then Louie froze, rooted to the spot. His hearing, attuned to the slightest false notes in this nocturnal symphony, caught a short, sharp, completely alien sound—a dry, metallic clang against a stone surface somewhere to the right, very close. The boy sharply raised his hand, making his brother and sister stop, bumping into him.

"Why did you stop?!" Ethan exclaimed angrily, and even through the darkness, Louie felt his irritated, tired gaze.

"Quiet!" Louie hissed, and his whisper was filled with such genuine, acute fear that Ethan fell silent for a moment. "I heard something! Metal on stone."

"You've been imagining a lot today," the younger one muttered with less confidence, looking around nervously. "First hidden photographers, then strange sounds. It's just a branch falling or some animal. Let's just go, we're all freezing!"

But Louie, as if rooted, didn't move, listening to the silence, his entire body a tense string. Then Ethan, finally losing his temper from fatigue and fear, roughly pushed the heir's hand away and took a step forward.

"Stop making things up!"

Amanda stood hesitantly, torn between her brothers. Her heart was pounding wildly.

"Just listen, for heaven's sake!" Louie pleaded in a whisper, his eyes full of horror. His voice held a command. "Just for a couple of seconds!"

"Enough! I told you—no one would dare touch us!" Ethan almost shouted, his nerves stretched to the limit, and this shout was a defensive reaction. "We're Balcoms!"

And at that moment, in Louie's mind, clearly, imperatively, and with a soul-chilling foreignness, like the crack of a whip, a warning voice sounded: "Get down!"

Without thinking, without analyzing, obeying instinct and this internal push, Louie sharply, forcefully dropped to his knees. He heard two dull, soft, ominous thuds on the ground—the twins, having lost consciousness, collapsing onto the cold road.

A freezing, all-consuming horror gripped Louie's throat. He crawled towards them, but then felt a sharp pain in the back of his head.

---

Consciousness returned to Louie slowly and painfully, through pain and disorientation. The first thing he felt was a damp cold that chilled him to the bone. The boy was on something hard, uneven, and wet.

Trying to move, Louie realized with horror that his hands and feet were bound with rough ropes. Panic, sharp and nauseating, rose in his throat. He turned his head, overcoming the pain, and in the weak, dim light, saw the figures of the twins tied to him. The younger ones sat motionless, and Louie's heart constricted with a soul-chilling fear, far stronger than the physical cold. "Just let them be alive... Just let them be breathing..."

Louie frantically looked around, his eyes scanning the grim room. They were in a damp, cold stone cave. The ceiling was low, with stalactites hanging down like hard tears. The air smelled of old mold, damp earth, and something else—metallic, electric, alien to this place.

Louie's own breath came out in thick, quickly dissipating clouds of steam. The shiver racking his body made it hard to think coherently. One thing was clear: they had to escape. Right now.

"Amanda! Ethan! Wake up!" Louie's hoarse, broken voice echoed off the stone walls, sounding unnaturally loud in the tomblike silence, but there was no response.

The older one began to wriggle his body, pushing the twins, shaking them with all his might. His tied hands wouldn't allow him to do more. Every movement sent pain through the back of his head.

"Amanda! Ethan! Come to!" Louie shouted again and again, and his cry now held genuine despair and a plea bordering on hysteria.

Finally, quiet, sleepy, painful groans were heard. Amanda was the first to respond.

"M-mm? What... what happened... My head..." the girl's voice broke off as consciousness finally cleared and she realized her situation—tied up, on cold stone, in an unfamiliar place. The young villainess jerked, trying to get up, and her movement, colliding with Ethan's body, woke him up completely.

"Oh my god!" the boy's cry was loud, hoarse, and full of genuine horror. He shook his head, trying to free himself from the bonds. "Where are we?! What is this place?! Who did this?!"

Louie turned to the twins to say something, to calm them, to find words of hope, but at that moment, a blinding flash went off with a deafening click just centimeters from his face. The light hit his retinas, burning the image, and for a few seconds Louie was blind, seeing only dancing spots.

"For now—safe," a calm, measured, almost impassive male voice sounded. It held neither malice nor threat, only a cold statement of fact, which was even more frightening.

The children, blinking, squinting, and opening their eyes again, trying to regain their sight, stared in the direction of the voice. And what they gradually began to discern made their blood run cold.

Standing before them was a tall, slender man in a tight-fitting black suit without a single crease, made of a matte fabric that absorbed light. But the most terrifying thing was his mask. It was smooth, glossy black, and where the eyes should be, bright blue, neon, hypnotic crosses glowed. The mask's mouth was stretched into a grin of the same glowing sharp fangs, creating the impression of an eternal, frozen mockery. In his hands, clad in thin black gloves, the stranger held an old-fashioned but bulky camera.

"Who are you?" Louie whispered, his own voice sounding strange and weak to him. He instinctively tried to shield the twins, helplessly tugging at the ropes, trying to get on his knees between them and the threat.

In response, the stranger pressed the button again. Click. Another blinding flash, searing their eyes, already inflamed from the previous one. The children squeezed their eyes shut, the tearing pain cutting through their eyelids.

"It would be far more interesting to hear about you, Llewellyn Duck," the man said, and his voice, upon pronouncing that name, didn't betray a single emotion.

A freezing, pure, absolute horror gripped Louie. This was impossible. No one on the Continent of Evil knew his real name. He was Frederick Balcom to everyone. The shock reflected on the boy's face was so vivid, so obvious, that even the twins noticed it, looking from the kidnapper to their brother with amazement, fear, and a question.

"Sorry... do we know each other?" a bewildered Louie managed to squeeze out, feeling the ground disappear from under his feet, the world collapsing. This kidnapper knew his secret.

The man tightened his grip on the camera, his blue cross-eyes seeming to burn through Louie, scanning every emotion. He took a silent step forward, closing the distance, his shadow enveloping the ducklings.

"No. I have no need for that," came the same indifferent reply.

"Then... then how do you know me?" Louie's voice trembled, broke, betraying all his confusion, fear, and complete loss of control over the situation.

"You'll find out soon," the stranger replied in the same calm, expressionless tone. He raised the camera again, almost point-blank. Click. Flash. The children were almost blind now, their eyes watering and hurting, dark spots floating before them.

"B-but... what do you want from us?" Louie tried to insist, his mind frantically searching for any clue.

The man didn't listen to the children. He smoothly, like a marionette, straightened to his full height and turned towards the cave exit, hidden in the shadows behind a stone ledge.

"You may leave," the stranger tossed over his shoulder. "Oh, and by the way... I advise you to do it quickly. With every minute, this room grows colder. Stay here for about fifteen minutes... and your blood will turn to ice. Good luck!"

And having said that, the kidnapper, as if dissolving into the darkness, disappeared around the corner, and in the cave's silence, his quiet, involuntary chuckle was still audible for a few seconds—dry, joyless, and frighteningly sincere.

An overwhelming silence reigned in the icy tomb, broken only by the rapid, ragged breathing of the three captives.

"What were you saying, Ethan?" Louie spat out with bitter, venomous bile through clenched teeth, addressing his brother. His fear was turning into anger. "'No one would dare touch us'?! Sounds very convincing!"

"How was I supposed to know?!" Ethan cried out, his own horror and humiliation pouring out as rage. "Why did he call you by your name?! Your real name?! Why was he photographing us like trophies?!"

"Am I his advisor?! How should I know what's going on in that psycho's masked head?!"

The brothers began shouting at each other, their voices, full of fear, helplessness, and mutual reproaches, echoing deafeningly in the air. Their argument escalated like a snowball, threatening to turn into something more, until Amanda had had enough of this useless, self-destructive, and dangerous activity.

"Enough!" the younger one's voice, sharp, authoritative, and piercing, made the brothers fall silent at once. "Stop it! Stop wasting time and energy! Better think about how to get out of here before we turn into ice statues!"

The ducklings' bodies were cooling at a frightening, visibly rapid pace. The cold emanating from the stone itself seeped through the thin fabric of their evening attire, penetrating their bones. Steam came from their beaks. The heirs could already clearly feel their fingers going numb, how it was becoming harder, almost impossible, to move their limbs. A new, stronger chill shook them.

"We need... we need to cut these damn ropes..." Louie said through chattering teeth, struggling to form words, jerking desperately in his bonds.

Amanda, forcing herself to think logically, discarding panic, examined the cave. Her gaze slid over the walls, and a new wave of fear gripped the girl—the stone walls and ledges were covered with a thin, shiny, rapidly growing layer of crystalline frost and freezing ice. They were freezing alive, and this was not a metaphorical cold of fear, but the most physical reality.

Meanwhile, Ethan was running a feverish gaze over the room, trying to find some hope. And suddenly his attention was caught by a weak, barely noticeable, but so desired glint in the farthest corner, right at the base of the wall, where the ice hadn't yet completely formed.

"G-guys..." the boy's voice broke from cold and excitement. "I think... I see a knife... A real one..."

"What?" Louie turned his head, overcoming the pain, to where his brother was looking. "C-can you reach it?"

"N-no..." Ethan jerked his tied legs hopelessly. "Only if we get closer..."

"Then... then let's try to stand up! All together!" the older one commanded, gathering all his willpower, suppressing the voice of panic inside.

It was an incredibly difficult, almost impossible task. Tied hand and foot, shivering from the penetrating cold, the ducklings grunted, groaned, leaned against each other with their backs, shoulders, heads, trying to find a foothold on the treacherously slippery icy floor. Every second spent stole precious degrees of temperature from the children, and hope was melting faster than the ice was growing on their clothes. Five long, agonizing, desperate minutes passed before they finally, unsteadily, swaying, got to their feet.

The ducklings moved like drunks, clumsily hopping and pushing each other to avoid falling back. Step by step, slowly, painfully, they approached the spot where an old, rusty, but most beautiful knife the heirs had ever seen lay.

Finally, Ethan, almost falling forward, grabbed the handle with trembling, blue, almost numb fingers. His movements were sharp, impatient, full of desperate determination. He forcefully drew the blade across the ropes on his wrists, feeling them crunch and give way. Then he freed his legs. The first thing Ethan did was rush to Louie, cutting his bonds, then to Amanda.

As soon as the last rope fell to the floor, the ducklings, without a word, without looking at each other, rushed to the spot where their kidnapper had disappeared. Their legs, numb from cold and long immobility, obeyed poorly, stumbling at every step, buckling at the knees. The run was agonizing, slow, more like a drunken stagger, but the instinct of self-preservation, screaming in their minds, drove them forward, towards hope, towards salvation.

Bursting out of the icy trap, the children found themselves in a dark, low, but infinitely desired corridor. The temperature here was not much higher, but the absence of that concentrated, soul-freezing cold already seemed like the greatest blessing to them. They stood, breathing heavily, hugging themselves, trying to warm their stiffened bodies.

"I-it's... w-warmer here... at least..." Ethan muttered, furiously rubbing his hands and face, trying to bring life and sensation back into them.

And at that moment, along the walls of the long corridor, with a dull, threatening rustle, one after another, as if by the wave of a magic wand, torches flared up. The flames wavered, casting long shadows on the roughly hewn walls.

Louie involuntarily shuddered all over, and icy goosebumps ran down his spine, this time from horror. The scene was all too familiar.

"Everything... just like in my dream..." the older one whispered, but his words, full of despair, were drowned out by the joyful, relieved exclamations of the twins, who rushed towards the sources of heat and light like moths.

"Fire!" Ethan exclaimed, stretching his frozen hands towards the living, warm flame. "Never thought I'd ever be so sincerely happy about ordinary fire!"

Louie, meanwhile, out of habit, automatically reached for his wrist, where his lifesaving communication bracelet always was. His fingers found bare skin. A chill of fear, far more piercing than the frost in the cave, ran down his spine.

"Hey..." the duckling began quietly, with a bad feeling. "Am I the only one... who lost their bracelet?"

The twins, with frightened faces, simultaneously pulled up the sleeves of their once luxurious, now dirty and wet outfits. Their wrists were also bare. Not a trace of the high-tech devices.

"Damn it!" Ethan swore, kicking the nearest stone with force. "Seems this masked guy isn't just a kidnapper and psycho, but a common thief too! He stole our bracelets!"

The prospect of being left without communication, without the ability to call for help, without GPS navigation in an unfamiliar, clearly hostile area, was truly terrifying. But the children, as always that night, had no choice.

"We need to move forward!" Amanda declared firmly, with sudden strength in her voice, pointing deeper into the corridor where the torches, as if mocking, led. "Staying here means dying."

"Ugh... again?" Louie whined, looking panic-stricken at the familiar path leading into the unknown. His legs refused to go.

"Move again?" Ethan was outraged. "I just started to warm up! I can almost feel my hands!"

"She's right," Louie agreed unexpectedly, gritting his teeth, grabbing his brother by the scruff and dragging him away from the tempting warmth of the fire. "The longer we stand here, the more time this maniac has to prepare the next 'surprises.' Let's go."

Ethan snorted, resisted, and tried to break free, but soon resigned himself, understanding the iron logic and inevitability of their situation.

"Don't you think that guy... is playing with us?" Amanda asked thoughtfully as the children walked along the lit tunnel, her gaze focused and analytical. "Like a cat with a mouse. Why else would he tell us how to escape, show us the way with torches? It's some kind of game."

"Yeah, I thought so too," Louie nodded, clenching his fists. "It's all... too theatrical. The ice room, the timer, the torches... He doesn't just want to kill us. He wants something else."

"Because he's insane!" Ethan blurted out, waving his arms. "No other explanation needed! Locked us in an icy tomb! And a thief! What sophisticated plan could there be?"

Soon the corridor led the ducklings into a new room—more spacious, also lit by torches. But their fleeting joy from the change of scenery and the open space immediately faded as soon as they saw what awaited them ahead.

The floor of the room was paved with stone slabs of different colors, sizes, and textures, and the only exit was on the other end, a dozen meters away across this deadly mosaic. Louie ran his hands over his face and groaned loudly, desperately.

"Ugh, great! Just wonderful! Traded one deadly adventure for another! A real resort vacation!"

"Adventure?" Ethan's face, despite the fatigue and fear, was suddenly illuminated by a familiar adventurous grin. Adrenaline played in his blood again. "I was made for this! Follow me!"

And without waiting for objections or plans, the duckling rushed forward with a recklessness worthy of better application.

"Stop! You might..." Louie began, reaching out to stop his brother.

"Don't worry! I've passed all this in video games!" Ethan interrupted the older one, but at that same moment, his foot stepped on one of the central slabs, which sank down with a dull, ominous click.

"Activate the traps," Louie finished his phrase hopelessly, with resignation in his voice.

"Oops..." Ethan muttered, freezing in place and looking around with a stupid smile.

With a whistle and a hiss, sharp, metal arrows shot out of narrow holes hidden in the walls at tremendous speed. Louie took a desperate breath, his mind, tuned to solving complex problems, frantically working, sifting through the archive of past misadventures.

"Okay, stop! Don't move! I remember!" the older one shouted, covering his head with his hands. "In the last adventure like this, Huey and Uncle Scrooge... I think we had to step only on... Left, then left, then forward, then right... or right first, then left?..."

Louie was already preparing to take a risky, blind step onto the nearest slab, but Amanda sharply, almost forcefully, grabbed his arm, pulling him back.

"Stop!" the girl's voice was not just firm, it was full of sudden, crystal-clear insight. "Think! The arrows can't fly forever. They must have some kind of feeding mechanism, springs. They have a limit! Why not just wait until it runs out?"

Louie stared at his sister with silent, frank admiration mixed with shame for his own stupidity.

"Really..." the heir whispered, and relief spread across his face. "That's a truly smart, villainous approach! Not heroic, but pragmatic! You're a genius, Amanda!"

"You don't need to be a genius to figure that out..." the younger one muttered sheepishly, looking away, but was clearly flattered and pleased with herself. "You just need to sometimes not run headlong, but think with your head."

"How boring..." Ethan pouted, deprived of a spectacular and heroic overcoming of the obstacle. "Anyone can do that."

"But it's safe and effective," Louie retorted, sinking to the floor at the entrance with relief. "Last time, trying to run through blindly, I tore my hoodie on these damn arrows!"

The ducklings froze in place, crouching, watching as the deadly hail gradually weakened—the arrows flew out less frequently, their whistle became less threatening, and finally, after three long, tense minutes, the shooting stopped completely, and silence fell in the room, broken only by their heavy breathing. Calmly, methodically, stepping on the now safe slabs, they crossed the room. The next trial awaited the children right behind a massive stone arch.

A huge, dark, bottomless chasm gaped before the heirs. Somewhere below, in the impenetrable darkness, a deafening, powerful hissing and gurgling of water hitting rocks could be heard. The air was humid and cold. The only way across this abyss was a thin, old, frayed rope stretched between two stone ledges on either side of the chasm. It sagged under its own weight, raising doubts about its strength.

"I'm not going there!" Louie declared immediately, with panicked determination, crossing his arms over his chest and taking two steps back. His fear of heights, aggravated by the recent fall into the void in his dream and general nervousness, was asserting itself in full force, paralyzing his body.

"Do we have a choice?" Amanda asked rhetorically with a sigh and, without thinking twice, decisively pushed him forward, to the very edge of the abyss. "Either this, or back to the ice cave."

The young Balcoms cautiously approached the very edge and looked down. Nothing was visible in the darkness, but the sound of bubbling water below was more eloquent than any picture. Ethan, wanting to restore his shaken authority and stifle his own fear, stepped forward again.

"Nothing complicated! Elementary balancing!" the boy exclaimed with false, feigned confidence. "Watch and learn!" And, maintaining his balance, he took the first uncertain step onto the unsteady, swaying rope.

Louie and Amanda, holding their breath, watched his every movement, every oscillation of the rope. Ethan made it about a third of the way. But under the duckling's weight, the old, rotten-from-within rope snapped with a crack right in the middle. The child, with a short, cut-off cry, fell down into the black abyss.

"Ethan!" Louie and Amanda screamed in unison, with one voice full of soul-chilling horror, their hands instinctively reaching out into the emptiness.

The younger one, without a second thought, with reflexive speed, threw her hands forward. A pale, trembling, uneven glow enveloped her palms—she was trying to grab the falling brother with the force of magic the children had been trying to learn. But something was wrong from the very start. Pain and incredible strain were immediately evident on her face, as if the girl was trying to lift an entire mountain with willpower alone.

"Louie, help!" Amanda exhaled, her voice hoarse from the effort. "Something's wrong here... something's interfering! The magic... it's barely working! I can hardly feel it!"

Seeing his sister's strength failing, her hands shaking from the strain, Louie, overcoming paralyzing fear and his own reluctance to use magic after all the alarming signals from his mark, closed his eyes and also stretched out his hands. He felt something draining energy from him, something in the very atmosphere of the cave resisting them. Holding Ethan, even slowing his fall, was incredibly difficult.

"I... I'm not sure I can hold on much longer!" Louie cried out through gritted teeth, straining. Sweat was pouring off him in streams, mixing with drops of icy water falling from the ceiling, his muscles burning with fire.

"Why is this so hard?!" Amanda almost cried out. Her hands were shaking as if in a fever, and her legs were involuntarily sliding forward, towards the very edge of the chasm, under the pressure of the invisible but incredibly heavy burden the children were carrying together.

The legs of both ducklings, unable to withstand the monstrous, unnatural load, gave way. They fell onto the cold stone floor with a simultaneous, desperate cry, but still, with their last strength, tried to maintain the magical grip, feeling their consciousness clouded by a black, sticky fog, and a deafening ringing in their ears. And finally, their strength was completely exhausted.

The light went out, like a burnt-out lightbulb. Ethan, along with his weakened, unconscious-for-a-few-seconds brother and sister, fell into the icy, dark water raging at the bottom of the chasm with a resounding splash.

The impact with the water was harsh and painful, knocking the remaining air out of their lungs with the force of a punch to the chest. But the real, helpless horror came later, when they, instinctively trying to surface, realized they couldn't. A powerful, relentless underwater current grabbed them and carried them forward through a winding tunnel of an underground river, not allowing them to take a single breath of air.

The ducklings were suffocating, their lungs burning with hellish fire, their bodies violently hitting sharp, underwater rocks, leaving deep abrasions and torn wounds on their skin. Darkness, cold, lack of oxygen, and the all-consuming noise of the water merged into one continuous, endless waking nightmare. And when they already thought it was the end, that consciousness was about to leave them forever, the current with a powerful effort threw the heirs onto a rocky, slippery shore of an underground lake.

The children lay, desperately, convulsively coughing up and spitting out dirty water, their bodies covered in abrasions, their clothes turned into wet, dirty, torn rags. The tremors shaking them were no longer just from the cold, but from shock, adrenaline, and complete physical exhaustion.

"Everyone... everyone alive?" Louie rasped, forcing the words out, turning his head to look over the twins lying next to him.

"About me... not sure..." Ethan wheezed, his usual confidence and adventurous spirit gone, leaving behind only a broken, frightened child. "Everything hurts... Everything..."

"Ow..." Amanda just moaned, trying to rise on her elbows and immediately falling back from dizziness and pain. "Everything hurts..."

Louie groaned and, overcoming the all-pervading fatigue and pain, slowly got to his feet. His body protested, his muscles burned with fire, and his head buzzed from the shock endured. He stood, swaying, and his gaze, glazed over from the horror experienced, wandered over the gloomy dungeon.

And then the boy saw it—not a bright, artificial one, but a soft, silvery, living light. It came from a narrow crack in the rock in the distance, painting trembling reflections on the wet stones. It was moonlight. A sign of the real, big world.

"I think... I think the exit is there!" the older one's voice sounded hoarse, but for the first time in this endless night, a crack of genuine, unquenchable hope broke through. He pointed a trembling finger towards the saving glow.

"Super," Ethan grumbled emotionlessly, with bitter irony, struggling to his knees. All his former adventurous enthusiasm had evaporated without a trace, leaving behind only a bitter residue of weariness, pain, and disappointment. "Let's go there. Just so that at the exit, that same guy with the camera and a brand new ice trap isn't waiting for us."

"What will I tell Bree?.." Amanda whispered with a new, sudden wave of panic, looking in horror at her once luxurious dress. Now it was miserable, wet, torn to shreds, stained with mud and blood.

"Amanda," Louie turned to his sister, and his eyes showed not weariness, but seriousness. "That's the least of your worries right now! Our only task now is to survive and get home. Everything else—later!"

And without waiting for objections, Louie, overcoming the pain in every muscle, took the first step towards the moonlight, and the twins, like obedient ducklings following their mother duck, trudged after him.

After walking a few meters along a narrow, damp tunnel, the children finally emerged from the stone cave. Their eyes, accustomed to the semi-darkness, squinted from the unusually bright light, and when they opened them again, they gasped.

The Balcoms stood on the edge of a small sandy beach, framed by dark, majestic cliffs. Right in front of them stretched a boundless, nocturnal, turbulent sea. Its waves crashed against the shore with a roar, throwing millions of sparkling spray into the air in the moonlight. The air was fresh, salty, and painfully familiar.

"The exit! Freedom! Hooray!" this time Ethan's cry sounded sincere and joyful. Forgetting for a moment about the bruises and abrasions, he, stumbling over his own weakened legs, ran forward across the wet sand, spreading his arms as if wanting to embrace this whole beautiful, huge world.

Louie, standing still, slowly turned to his sister. His face showed not relief, but slight bewilderment.

"And where are we, exactly?" the older one asked quietly, peering at the unfamiliar landscape. Amanda just shrugged, her shoulders drooping wearily.

"I don't know. A shore is a shore. We need to figure it out before we're found again."

"Hey!" Ethan shouted, returning to his family, his breath short from running. "There's a small house over there! The window is lit! Maybe someone lives there and can help us?"

The children silently exchanged glances. Going to strangers was dangerous, they understood that perfectly well. But the choice was poor: either take a risk or stay overnight on the cold shore in wet clothes with a chance of freezing to death or being found by their kidnapper.

As if on command, the ducklings sighed heavily and trudged through the sand towards the lone house with warm light in the window. Approaching the door, they hesitated for a moment, and then Louie, gathering the remnants of courage, knocked on the rough wooden surface.

Hurried footsteps were heard inside. Another window lit up, the door creaked open, and an elderly seagull in a long nightgown and a knitted cap appeared on the threshold. Seeing three beaten, wet, trembling ducklings in torn clothes before her, she gasped and pressed her palms to her chest, her eyes wide with horror and compassion.

"Oh, good Lord! My dear children!" the hostess exclaimed, her voice so warm and velvety that the children almost had tears in their eyes. "What happened to you? You look a sight!"

"This is... a very long and incredible story," Louie squeezed out with difficulty, feeling his legs buckling from fatigue. "Sorry to bother you so late... but could you tell us how to get to Balcom Island?"

"Oh, my dear, sweet ones!" the seagull shook her head, her gaze becoming soft and sad. "Balcom Island is far from here, on the other end of the Continent! You, wounded, shouldn't be wandering around such places at night. Come into the house, I'll give you hot tea with honey, treat your wounds, and by morning my husband, Wilmer, will be back from the night catch, he'll take you on his boat wherever you say!"

Inside, Louie shrank from the old rule drilled into him by Uncle Donald: "Never go to strangers!" But he looked at the exhausted, pale faces of his brother and sister, at their bodies trembling from the cold, at the bleeding abrasions, and the rule seemed stupid and useless to him. They were wounded, exhausted, almost without strength.

"Thank you..." the older one's voice trembled, and he took a step forward, into the warm house smelling of fresh baking and herbs. "Thank you so much."

The seagull, who introduced herself as Victoria, immediately bustled about. She wrapped the children in thick, woolen blankets and brought a stack of simple but clean, dry clothes—roomy shirts that were too big for them.

"Here, change, or you'll catch pneumonia!" the grandmother insisted, and the ducklings, not daring to disobey, accepted her help gratefully.

Changed, the heirs settled on soft poufs right in front of a crackling fireplace. The heat from the fire gently embraced their frozen bodies, driving away the icy cold of the cave.

Victoria, moving with surprising agility for her age, brought warm water, antiseptics, and clean bandages. She treated every abrasion, every scratch with maternal tenderness and care, which made Louie's throat tighten again. Making sure the children were relatively safe, the seagull hurried to set the table, taking out jam, fresh bread, and a kettle of steaming aromatic drink from the pantry.

In the warmth and coziness of the small room, to the friendly crackling of logs, the tension finally began to ease. Amanda, pressing against her brothers, quietly, as if afraid to wake the silence, spoke.

"Why was the magic in that cave so weak?"

"I don't know," Louie replied thoughtfully, stretching his palms towards the fire, feeling life slowly returning to his numb fingers. "It was like... suppression. As if the cave itself was tuned against us, against our power. There was something alien there."

"And how will we explain our absence to Father?" Ethan asked worriedly, looking at his bandaged hands. "He'll go crazy."

"We'll have to tell the truth," Louie sighed. "We need new bracelets anyway, the old ones are gone."

Soon Victoria called the children to the table. The aroma of freshly brewed tea and homemade cookies was a balm for their tormented souls.

"Won't you tell me what happened to you, dears?" the seagull asked softly, pouring the fragrant drink into mugs.

"A madman in a mask kidnapped us!" Ethan blurted out, greedily pouncing on the cookies. "He left us in an ice cave, and then made us go through stupid traps with arrows and chasms! We barely survived!"

"What a horror!" Victoria gasped, looking at the ducklings in terror. "How can anyone treat children like that?.. And why do you, dears, need to go to Balcom Island?"

"We live there," Amanda said quietly but with dignity. "We are Derek Balcom's children."

If Victoria was surprised, she didn't show it. She just nodded, as if heirs of powerful clans sought refuge in her hospitable home every day.

During the leisurely conversation, the children learned that Victoria and her husband Wilmer, a hereditary fisherman, had been living in this house right on the shore for almost forty years, away from the hustle and bustle and intrigues of the big world. The conversation was so calm and heartfelt that they didn't even notice how the dark night outside the window began to gradually lighten.

A stocky, silent man with a face weathered by storms—Wilmer—entered the house, which smelled of sea salt and resin. After listening to his wife's brief story, he gave the ducklings an appraising, proprietary look, as if checking the capacity of his boat, and nodded curtly.

"I'll take you," the man replied shortly. "We'll get there quick."

Thanking Victoria from the bottom of their hearts—not only with words but with looks full of sincere gratitude—and taking a whole bag of homemade cookies "for the road," the heirs of Balcom Island boarded a sturdy, well-worn motorboat.

The children waved goodbye to the kind seagull standing on the threshold of her hospitable home, as warm and reliable as her heart.

---

The boat, with the powerful roar of its engine, cut through the cool waves. The sea breeze pleasantly beat against their faces, washing away the remnants of the night's nightmare, the smell of the cave, and the pain.

Louie, sitting by the side, looked at the water rushing past, at the dolphins playing with each other, and suddenly caught himself with a slight, almost elusive smile on his beak. He remembered the boundless expanses of the ocean, life on Uncle Donald's boat, and those rare, carefree days when he and his brothers would just go out to sea to feel the wind of freedom and forget all their problems.

"What do you think that stranger really wanted?" Amanda broke the silence. She was sitting turned away from the water, preferring not to look at the very element that had almost become their grave.

"Just what he said," Louie replied, not taking his thoughtful gaze off the horizon. "'We'll find out soon.'"

"I hope it's something good..." the younger one whispered with naive, childlike faith, looking at her bandaged palms.

Louie just nodded silently in response. Anxiety gnawed at him from within. That masked guy knew his name. His real name. Behind this was not a coincidence, but some deep, carefully hidden secret, some threat directed personally at him.

But now, looking at the familiar, majestic outlines of his home island approaching in the morning haze, the former Duck dreamed of only one thing: to get to his soft, warm, safe bed, bury his face in the pillow, and fall into a long, serene, healing sleep, where there would be no icy caves, no flying arrows, no blue crosses on a mask. Louie felt with every cell of his tormented body that he deserved this small luxury in full for all these nightly sufferings.

Chapter Text

The oppressive, almost ominous silence that had reigned in McDuck Manor was suddenly shattered. A demanding, prolonged ring came from the front door. It didn't sound like the timid knock of a random guest, but like an imperious, impatient summons that made one flinch.

The three ducklings passing through the luxurious corridor at that moment froze and exchanged glances. The same bewilderment was reflected in their eyes—they weren't expecting anyone. But since the visitor was at the doorstep of Uncle Scrooge's house, Webby, being the fastest and most curious, rushed to open the massive, carved oak door to see who dared to disturb their peace so insistently.

The door creaked open, letting in a stream of blinding sunlight, in which the tall, stately figure of a drake, about twenty-five years old, was outlined. His posture exuded confidence bordering on arrogance. He was dressed in an impeccably tailored dark suit, and a smug, slightly contemptuous smile played on his beak, as if the stranger had just won a million-dollar game.

"Are the adults home?" came the question. The voice was calm, almost lazy, but beneath it lay a steely assurance and a hint of hidden threat.

"Yes..." Webby uttered uncertainly, feeling an inexplicable anxiety.

"If it's another salesman with some useless junk, tell him to get lost!" a grumpy, rolling Scottish brogue sounded from behind, interrupting the girl.

Scrooge, Della, and Donald came down from the second floor at the noise. Their gazes, full of suspicion and weariness, fixed on the uninvited guest. The richest duck, squinting, measured the drake with the appraising look of a businessman accustomed to determining a person's worth and intentions at first glance.

"Oh, no, no... I'm not a salesman," the stranger began in the same measured tone, but now with an added playful note, as if he was enjoying the effect he was producing.

"Then what do you want?" the rich duck asked again, his fingers tightening on the handle of his cane.

The drake grinned even wider, his triumphant smile seeming to illuminate the entire hall. He cast a significant glance at the Duck family and, without waiting for an invitation, took a step forward, rudely entering the house as if he were the rightful owner here.

"I think you're the ones who need this. I have some information about the Balcoms," the stranger drew out the last word, savoring the moment, and pulled a plain, unremarkable white envelope from his inner jacket pocket. He twirled it in the air before the astonished ducks, like teasing hungry predators with a piece of meat.

At the mention of that name, Della flinched. Her face whitened for a moment, and her heart seemed to stop. The ducklings, watching the adults' reaction, looked at them in complete bewilderment. They didn't understand why a mere surname could cause such a storm of emotions.

"Alright, come in!" Scrooge ordered without a second's hesitation, his voice hard as granite. He turned sharply and led the guest into his study—the inner sanctum.

Donald and Della, exchanging anxious looks, silently followed them. However, their path was blocked by the children, who, sensing something was wrong, were eager to learn the truth.

"What's going on? Do you know him?" Huey grabbed Donald's sleeve, his voice trembling with excitement.

Donald and Della exchanged glances again, and the same anxiety was visible in their eyes.

"We don't... know this drake," Della managed to squeeze out with difficulty, trying to pull herself together.

"Then why did you get so scared when you heard about the Balcoms? Who are they?" Dewey asked this time, his penetrating gaze studying the adults' faces.

The girl grew even more nervous, her fingers unconsciously fiddling with the edge of her scarf. She didn't know what to say, but Donald, seeing his sister's confusion, hurried to intervene.

"They're, you could say... old business rivals of Uncle Scrooge," the drake lied, and the words didn't come easily to him. "Probably because of them, we might have some... financial difficulties, that's why we got alarmed." It was unpleasant for him to lie to his nephews, but he thought it was better, safer for them. Della just nodded nervously, confirming her brother's words.

"Is it that serious?" a frightened Webby exclaimed, her big eyes widening even more.

"No, no, it won't affect us at all, so don't worry!" Della hurried to reassure the ducklings, making an effort to smile. And without letting the children ask new questions, the adults hurried into the study.

"They're acting very strange..." the eldest triplet shared his observation, turning to his wary brother and friend. The tension in the air was impossible to miss.

"Adults never tell us anything truly important!" Dewey snorted indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"We can look up information about the Balcoms in my library!" Webby suggested, always finding solutions in books. The Duck brothers decided that would be the best option, and the three of them headed to the girl's room, hoping to shed some light on this grim mystery.

---

A heavy pause hung in Scrooge's study, broken only by the ticking of an antique clock. The atmosphere was thick and tense.

"Alright, what do you know?" Scrooge asked sharply, without preamble, his piercing gaze drilling into the guest. Donald, leaning against the door, locked it, cutting off the retreat. Della stood nearby.

With a theatrical hint, the stranger handed the envelope to the girl. With trembling hands, barely breathing, she opened it and poured the contents onto the massive oak desk. They were photographs. Dozens of photographs. All of them featured her youngest son, Louie.

Della's hands shook even more. Her breath caught, and darkness clouded her vision. It had been so long since she had seen her boy, that looking at him, even just a frozen image, was both bliss and unbearable torture at the same time.

"What?!" Donald's voice rose to a shout. He snatched a few pictures. "Where did you get these?!"

Scrooge, pale, picked up one specific shot: in it, the duckling was sitting tied up in a grim, damp cave. The boy's frightened eyes, full of silent horror, looked directly into the lens, as if pleading for help. Next to him sat two other, equally alarmed chicks. The stranger watched the Ducks' reaction with relish, his smug smirk seeming to grow wider.

"Had to work a bit to get him," the guest tossed off almost casually. "This is Llewellyn Duck, right? The boy who disappeared?" He pulled a tattered, well-read missing person poster from his pocket, the kind the family had once posted on every corner.

"Where is he?!" the girl blurted out, and the tears she had been holding back all morning finally streamed from her eyes in hot, salty rivers.

"On the Continent of Evil, of course. Where else?" The stranger's tone was calm, like a tour guide announcing a schedule.

"Is he alright?" Donald asked again, unable to tear his eyes away from the image of his bound nephew. His heart was breaking with pain and anger.

"Perfectly," the stranger made a light gesture with his hand. "That cheerful trio successfully passed all my... modest trials. As far as I can tell, they're safe now."

"He's with Derek, isn't he?" Della whispered, and her voice was so full of fear and despair that Donald involuntarily squeezed his sister's shoulder. The stranger, however, was amused by all this, as if watching an entertaining play.

"Why didn't you just take him?!" Scrooge suddenly roared, slamming his fist on the table. The anger boiling within him was so strong the air around them seemed to crackle.

The guest chuckled mysteriously, as if hearing a stupid joke, and with the air of a complete owner, sprawled in Scrooge's chair as if it had always belonged to him.

"Why would I do that?" the stranger raised an eyebrow, feigning sincere bewilderment.

The ducks stood completely stunned. For several seconds, a tomblike silence reigned in the room as they tried to process this absurd answer.

"So... you found him just to... take pictures?.." Donald spoke, his voice a mixture of rage and complete incomprehension. The stranger just grinned maliciously, and that gesture was more eloquent than any words.

"How did you find Louie?" Scrooge asked the next question, his fingers tightly clutching the photographs.

"Conducted a small private investigation," the drake spread his hands. "And realized our little runaway had settled in what is perhaps the most dangerous place for such delicate creatures. I tracked him when he came to the city for some foolish reason... and there you have it! The boy, with his brother and sister, went to a ridiculous party for the local villains. How laughable and absurd! To waste time on unnecessary festivities!"

Finishing his explanation, the drake looked with relish at the bewildered faces of the Ducks.

"Brother and sister?" Donald repeated, confused, as if he had misheard.

"If even you, his closest relatives, don't know them, they're probably half-siblings," the guest added with a snort and tossed a fresh copy of a newspaper from the Continent of Evil onto the table. The front page featured a photograph: Louie, radiant and happy, had his arms around the shoulders of two unfamiliar ducklings. The picture, according to the headline, was taken on the twins' birthday.

"Derek has... more children?.." Della uttered in astonishment, grabbing the newspaper. Her gaze darted between her son's beaming face and the unfamiliar, yet painfully recognizable features of the two other ducklings.

Noticing his sister's thoughtful and suddenly darkened face, Donald was perplexed.

"Don't tell me you're jealous of that jerk again, Della!" the drake exclaimed, unable to hold back.

"What?!" the embarrassed and suddenly enraged Della shouted back, turning sharply to her brother. "I'm not—"

Scrooge instantly stepped between his niece and nephew, stopping their anger.

"Not now!" the rich duck's voice sounded with such authority that both fell silent immediately, understanding that a quarrel at that moment was a terrible idea.

But Della couldn't calm down. All she wanted now was to hug her youngest son, press him to her chest, and never let him go. However, something in the stranger's story didn't add up. Some detail her mother's heart couldn't let pass.

"You're not from the Continent of Evil, are you?" the girl's voice suddenly became firm and perceptive. "How did you get there, and more importantly, how did you stay alive, spying on the heirs of Derek Balcom?"

A sly, triumphant smile illuminated the drake's beak, as if he had been waiting for this very question.

"You know, I don't give out such valuable information for free..."

"Alright, how much do you want?" Scrooge interrupted the guest without hesitation. His fortune meant nothing when the life and safety of his grand-nephew were at stake.

"In this world, Mr. McDuck, there are things far more important than money," the stranger parried with a slight sneer.

"Well, what do you want then?" Donald snorted, increasingly irritated by this smug tone.

"Oh, a trifle," the drake waved a dismissive hand. "Just the Amulet of the Weeping Sea. For such great adventurers as your family, finding it shouldn't be too difficult, I presume."

The Ducks froze as if rooted to the spot. The air in the room turned icy. The drake watched with relish as a storm of emotions—shock, disbelief, anger—swept across their faces.

"But it's almost impossible to find!" Donald cried out in horror. "Legends say it's hidden in the most inhospitable depths of the ocean, guarded by ancient monsters! Reaching it is certain death!"

The self-satisfied guy slowly rose, straightened his jacket, and walked to the door, casting a final glance at the family's pale faces.

"Then you'll find it," his voice sounded like a verdict. "If the boy's life is dear to you, of course."

Della flinched in fear, her gaze again fixed on the newspaper. Only one thing comforted her—in that happy photograph, her son was alive and seemingly well. But leaving him with Derek, with the one she had once so recklessly trusted, was unthinkable. The adventurer feared for Louie, remembering the dark ambitions of her child's father.

The guest handed Scrooge a business card and, with the same provocative grin, left the study, leaving behind a trail of heavy silence. The Ducks were left alone to process the avalanche of horrifying information that had fallen upon them.

"Any ideas on how to get that cursed amulet?" Della said desperately, almost in a whisper, turning to the family and crumpling the newspaper in her hands.

"Not yet..." Scrooge admitted wearily, running a hand over his face. "Once, many years ago, I already tried to find it. Spent a fortune, almost lost my crew... all in vain."

The rich duck looked at his niece and saw her inconsolable, lost state. The girl's shoulders shook with suppressed sobs. Scrooge instantly rushed to her and sat her down in a chair, putting an arm around her.

Donald, meanwhile, picked up the newspaper that had fallen from his sister's weakened fingers, and his gaze fell on the caption under the photograph. He began to read.

---

Tossing aside another thick book, Dewey snorted in irritation. The children had rummaged through almost the entire rich library in Webby's room but couldn't find a single mention of the mysterious Balcoms. The tension grew with each minute, binding them, and the most terrible thoughts began to creep into their heads.

"Maybe the Balcoms really are just Uncle Scrooge's old enemies?" Webby muttered with hope in her voice, closing another useless encyclopedia.

"I'm starting to believe it..." Huey agreed with a heavy sigh. He, as the older brother, was gnawed by guilt. He even missed Louie's stupid jokes and hurtful barbs, the chaos the boy invariably brought into their lives, all the things the family had once attributed to "manifestations of his evil nature." None of that mattered now. If Louie would just come back, Huey would forgive him everything.

Dewey, though he hid it more carefully than anyone, missed him just as much. Until the last moment, he thought Louie was just playing another stupid game and was about to jump out from around the corner shouting "Surprise!". But time passed, and the younger brother didn't return. The guilt for the bitter words he had once thrown at Louie was eating the middle triplet from the inside, not allowing him to forgive himself.

"I'm going to ask Mom directly about these Balcoms!" Dewey declared with sudden determination. "If they're really just enemies, she has to tell us!"

And the boy, not listening to objections, dashed out of the room and headed for his uncle's study. The door was ajar, which was strange in itself—Scrooge never left his study unlocked. There was no one inside, which confused the duckling even more.

About to leave, Dewey took a last look around the room, and his attention was caught by a bright glint on the polished surface of the desk. Coming closer, he saw that the sun was reflecting off glossy photographs scattered in disarray. In any other case, the boy would have just left, brushing it off. But desperation and longing for his brother were stronger. The duckling picked up one of the photographs.

"Louie?!" Dewey's own voice sounded muffled and strange to him.

The picture fell from his numb fingers. From the shock, Dewey began to tremble, but that didn't stop him from picking up the image from the floor with bated breath. His eyes, wide with horror, ran over the image of his tied-up, frightened brother.

Suddenly, the boy heard approaching footsteps and the voices of adults. His heart began to beat wildly. Dewey rushed to hide behind a huge chest right by the entrance. Della, Donald, and Scrooge entered the study, their faces grim, their voices full of anxiety. Fortunately for the duckling, they didn't notice him, and he, seizing the moment, slipped out the door and rushed headlong back to Huey and Webby.

"Why does it say 'Frederick' here and not 'Louie'?" Donald said with unconcealed irritation, reading the newspaper article again.

"Probably he changed his name," Della replied quietly, pain in her voice. "Derek always wanted to name his son Fred..." the adventurer's voice broke off.

The girl couldn't bear the thought that her boy was now in the very heart of the Continent of Evil. Though Louie was cunning and smart, Della knew—his kind, vulnerable heart wasn't made for the role of a villain. It killed her to think that she, his mother, might have failed to give him enough attention, failed to see his pain, and that this might have been one of the reasons for the child's escape.

A breathless Dewey burst into the room at a run, clutching the precious photograph tightly to his chest like the most important treasure in the world. Huey and Webby looked at him anxiously and immediately surrounded him.

"What happened? Did you talk to Mom?" Huey chattered, peering into his brother's agitated face.

"Better!" Dewey exhaled triumphantly and showed the picture to his family.

"What?!" Huey and Webby's voices merged into one.

"Is that... is that Louie?!" the Junior Woodchuck asked uncertainly, taking the photograph with trembling hands.

"Yes! I found it in Uncle Scrooge's study!"

The ducklings exchanged glances full of shock, pain, and complete incomprehension. Webby took the image from Huey to get a better look.

"So... they know what happened to Louie..." the girl said quietly.

"And they didn't tell us anything!" Dewey shouted angrily. His initial triumph was replaced by burning resentment and fear.

In the photograph, their younger brother was tied up and frightened. What if he was in trouble? What if something terrible had happened to him? Huey and Dewey couldn't allow that, but not knowing where Louie was, they were helpless, and this helplessness tormented them most of all.

"What if he's been captured?" the red duckling suggested in horror. "And that stranger who came this morning... he's demanding a ransom?"

Webby and Dewey threw alarmed looks at him, mentally agreeing with this terrifying version. The girl looked at the photograph again, peering at the faces of the children next to Louie. They looked very familiar, but she couldn't remember where she had seen them. And suddenly, when her gaze fell on their bright, emerald-green eyes, so similar to Louie's own, an insight struck her.

"Guys!" Webby exclaimed. "Don't you think these are... those kids from Funso's?"

The twins stared at the picture, feverishly recalling that encounter.

"You're right!" Dewey gasped. "It's them! What were their names?.."

The boy began sorting through names in his memory, Webby shouting out her guesses in competition with him.

"Ethan and Amanda!" Huey said firmly, pressing a hand to his beak, his face becoming concentrated. "I remember!"

"Ah, yes-yes! That was going to be my next answer!" Dewey confirmed.

The older duckling took the photograph again, studying all three. His heart was pounding wildly, and a whirlwind of thoughts spun in his head. He felt he was missing something important, some key detail, but couldn't grasp it. Huey, like Webby, was struck by those captivating, bright eyes of the ducklings, which were a mirror image of their brother's eyes.

"So that means..." Huey began slowly, weighing each word, "...the mysterious child in the hood and dark glasses was Louie?"

"What?" Dewey asked, finally fully grasping the connection. "You mean that... um... Fred?"

"Yes, it was him!" Huey's voice gained new confidence. "I knew it! That's why his voice, his mannerisms were like Louie's."

"But why would he do all that?" Webby asked in confusion. "Why come back to Duckburg under a different name? What was he trying to do?"

"Because he's still in the city! It's obvious!" Dewey declared heatedly.

But Huey, thinking it over, couldn't agree. Something about that version didn't add up.

"No..." the older one shook his head. "Otherwise the artifact would have shown his exact location, not interference. That means only one thing—Louie is far away now. Where any connection is blocked..."

Feeling another surge of impotent rage, Dewey flopped onto the bed. The children already knew so much, but it was all just fragments, pieces of a puzzle that didn't form a complete picture. Finding the truth seemed impossible. The ducklings weren't going to give up, but with each minute, hope was fading.

"Only the adults can tell us everything," Huey said with bitter resolve.

Webby looked sadly at the twins, perfectly understanding the depth of their despair.

"They could... but for some reason, they don't want to," the girl said quietly.

"That's it! I've had enough of this!" Dewey unexpectedly shouted, jumping up from the bed. His face expressed an unshakable confidence that the others so lacked. "Either we go and demand the truth from them, or we'll be wandering in the dark until the end of time!"

"Do you really think that's a good idea?" Huey asked doubtfully.

"Yes! We're not getting anywhere on our own anyway!"

"Dewey's right," a suddenly cheered-up Webby supported her friend. "We need information from the source! The real story, not all... this!"

Huey, still in turmoil, looked at the determined faces of his family and, understanding that they wouldn't find Louie any other way, gave in with a heavy sigh.

"Alright... Let's do it."

The determination burning in Dewey's eyes compelled the ducklings to follow him. The middle triplet was no longer just a resentful child—he was someone ready to smash any wall of silence to save his brother.

Without waiting for further discussion, Dewey turned sharply and, clutching the ill-fated photograph in his hand like material evidence, flew out of the room. Huey and Webby, barely keeping up, rushed after him.

The children raced through the endless corridors of the mansion, their hearts beating in time with the pounding of their fast feet. The blue duckling, without slowing down, flung open the door to the study, where the adults, immersed in gloomy silence, were trying to devise some kind of plan.

"We know!" the boy's voice, hoarse from running and surging emotions, sounded loudly. "We know you're aware of where Louie is!"

At this unexpected and so confident shout, the three adults flinched and turned around simultaneously. A mixture of shock, guilt, and horror froze on their faces. Della instinctively tried to cover the photographs lying on the table with her hand, but it was too late.

"What are you talking about, kids?" Scrooge tried to take control of the situation, stepping forward, but his voice betrayed uncertainty.

Unable to hold back any longer, Dewey thrust his hand with the photograph into the air as if it were an indictment.

"Don't pretend!" the child's anger was righteous and burning. "You know where Louie is, but you're not telling us! You're hiding the truth from us!"

Huey, coming closer, looked directly at Donald, and in his eyes was not a child's resentment, but a deep, adult pain.

"He's our brother," the Junior Woodchuck said, and his voice became serious. "Why don't we have the right to know? Why are you shutting us out?"

"We're not..." Donald began, but the words stuck in his throat.

"Louie is on the Continent of Evil!" Della exclaimed, and a deafening silence fell in the room. Through tears and despair, through months of silence and pain, the truth the Ducks had so carefully hidden broke through. The only sound was the children's collective, stunned exclamation.

"WHAT?!"

The ducklings' faces were illuminated by shock. The words "Continent of Evil" sounded like a verdict, like the name of the darkest and most dangerous fairy tale turned reality.

"The Continent of Evil?" Webby whispered, choking, taking a step back. "Is that... that place where only... villains live?"

Dewey, who a second ago felt like a victor, suddenly felt the ground disappear from under his feet. His triumph instantly changed into a soul-chilling fear for his brother. If Louie was there, it meant he was in mortal danger.

"Why are we still standing here?!" Huey almost screamed, his fists clenching. "Why haven't we gone there to get Louie back yet?!"

"It's... not that simple," Scrooge replied wearily, sinking into a chair. "Getting to the Continent of Evil, not being one of them, is certain death. They have their own laws, their own rules."

"But why is Louie there?" genuine alarm was heard in the blue duckling's voice. "He's not a villain! He's our brother! He's afraid of the dark and loves quiet relaxation!"

The adults exchanged heavy, meaningful glances again. The mountain of lies the Ducks had built over the years to protect the children was crumbling before their eyes, and they didn't know where to start with the truth.

Scrooge put his hand on Della's shoulder. She looked up at him, her eyes full of suffering and agony, and saw silent permission in his gaze.

The girl, taking a deep, ragged breath, slowly knelt before her sons to be on their level. She took the boys' hands in hers and looked directly into their eyes, full of fear, incomprehension, and hope.

"Because..." the adventurer's voice was quiet. "Because your... father is there."

A deathly silence fell in the room again, this time even more oppressive. The ducklings froze, unable to move, their brains refusing to process what they had heard.

"What?!" this time the children's exclamation was deafening. They stared at their mother, then shifted their shocked gazes to Donald and Scrooge, seeking refutation, hoping they had misheard.

"But... Uncle Donald," Huey's voice dropped to a whisper. "You always told us... that our father... that he died."

"I wish he had!" burst out from the drake with bitter bluntness, unable to contain himself.

At this cruel, unexpected exclamation, the boys flinched as if slapped. Dewey's confidence evaporated, his body shook, and his thoughts tangled into a tight, painful knot.

"W-why?" the middle triplet could only whisper.

Della threw an angry, reproachful look at her brother. His words were unnecessary for the already frightened ducklings. Her mother's heart was breaking at the need to utter the next phrase, but there was no turning back.

"Because your father..." Della paused again, gathering strength, and exhaled, "...is a villain."

"He's... a bad guy?.." Huey asked quietly, almost soundlessly, lowering his gaze. The boy already guessed the answer, but hearing it out loud was unbearably painful.

A storm of truth crashed down on the ducklings—truth about their blood, their origin, their family.

"He... did terrible things," Della continued, her voice trembling. "Very terrible things. We wanted... we wanted to protect you from this truth."

"So that means... Louie is with him?" Dewey spoke with a new, soul-chilling realization, his gaze darting around. "Father... he wouldn't hurt his own son, would he?"

The adults found no answer. They could only speculate about what Derek was capable of, and these thoughts made their blood run cold. Fear for Louie, mixed with a sense of their own powerlessness, was written on their faces.

"We don't know what's on his mind," Scrooge admitted honestly. "But we will do everything to bring Louie home. Everything in our power."

A heavy, meaningful silence hung in the room. Quiet, choked sobs were heard. Huey and Dewey could no longer hold back—bitter, scalding tears streamed down their cheeks. They were angry at the adults for years of deception, but this anger was drowned in an ocean of new, terrifying truth and all-consuming fear for their brother.

Della, seeing her sons' suffering, couldn't bear it. She hugged them, and the twins, like two frightened chicks, clung to her, seeking protection and comfort in her warm, familiar scent. They pressed against her so tightly, as if wanting to hide from the whole world, from this monstrous reality.

---

Sitting on the floor in the bedroom, the ducklings tried to find a grain of comfort, but their thoughts were like a hurricane, not allowing them to calm down.

"So, Louie knew about Father all along," Huey said quietly, staring into emptiness. "He didn't just run away to the Continent of Evil..."

"When we find him, he'll have a lot of explaining to do!" Dewey declared with stern resolve, but his voice betrayed not anger, but despair. "A whole lot!"

The duckling took out the photograph again, peering at the image. His gaze slid over the faces of all three children, and he noticed something he had missed before.

"If Louie is with Father now," Dewey began slowly, thinking it over, "and those kids from Funso's called him their brother... doesn't that mean they're... also our family?"

The boy handed the photograph to Huey, who looked at it with renewed intensity. The resemblance was striking—the same green eyes, the same shape of the beak.

"Maybe... you're right," Huey uttered with difficulty. This thought was both shocking and gave a strange kind of hope.

At that moment, Della entered the room silently. Her face was pale, but she was trying to smile.

"How are you holding up?" the girl asked in a soft, caring voice, sitting down on the carpet next to the children. The twins looked at their mother, and she read all their horror, all their pain in their eyes.

"We will... we will get Louie back, right?.." Dewey whispered with a plea in his voice.

Della hugged them both, pressing them to herself.

"Of course we will," the girl replied, and a steely confidence sounded in her voice, which perhaps wasn't there inside. "I promise."

These words made the boys feel a little better, but the thought that their brother was in the den of evil gave them no peace.

"Mom..." Huey began quietly. "You've been to the Continent of Evil, right?"

Della's gaze became distant, thoughtful, as if she were looking into the far past.

"Yes... many times."

"If that's so, why can't you just go back there and get him?" Dewey asked naively.

"A lot has changed, kiddo," Della smiled bitterly. "But don't worry. We'll find a way. We'll definitely find a way."

Although the twins smiled back at their mother, their faces still expressed deep anxiety. If Louie were here, they would hold him so tightly, never let him go, and ask for forgiveness for every rude joke, for every unfair word.

"I wish it were sooner..." Huey whispered.

Seeing her sons' depressed state, Della decided to act. It was unbearably hard for her too, but the children shouldn't bear this burden alone.

"Listen," the girl said, trying to sound cheerful. "Sitting here and being sad won't help. How about you and Webby go into town? Get some ice cream, take a walk. It should help distract you a bit, and we'll think hard about what to do next."

The boys looked at Della, then at each other. The prospect of escaping the oppressive atmosphere of the mansion seemed attractive. They nodded silently.

---

The three ducklings walked along the bustling streets of Duckburg, but the cheerfulness of the city's hustle and bustle couldn't penetrate the veil of their gloomy thoughts. They moved in silence, each immersed in their own heavy reflections. Webby again took the initiative to lighten the mood.

"You know, if you think about it..." the girl began cautiously, "...at least you now know your father is alive. That's... good, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Dewey snorted with bitter irony, crossing his arms. "Comes with the bonus realization that he's a world-class villain! Just wonderful!"

Webby fell awkwardly silent, understanding she had touched a sore spot again. She fussed, trying to fix the situation, and began chattering the most absurd jokes from a recently read magazine, just to make her friends laugh. The boys barely listened, but deep down were grateful for her efforts.

Huey, meanwhile, mechanically scanned the street for a café. His gaze fell on a small, cozy ice cream parlor with a pink-and-white striped awning and a few tables on the sidewalk. There were few customers, and at one of the tables sat a single patron, whose tall, stately figure seemed painfully familiar to Huey. The drake was immersed in reading something on his phone.

"Hey," Huey quietly called to his brother and friend. "Doesn't that guy look like... the one who came this morning?"

The other two ducklings turned and stared at the stranger.

"Right, it's him!" Dewey whispered, and a spark lit in his eyes.

Without a second thought, the children rushed to the table. The stranger flinched at their sudden appearance and hastily put away his phone.

"Hello!" Dewey almost blurted out, thrusting the photograph forward like a detective's badge. "You were at our house today! Tell us, how do you know our brother? What's wrong with him?"

"I've already told the Ducks everything," the drake cut him off, his face expressing only boredom and mild irritation.

"Please!" Huey pleaded, and such sincere pain sounded in the boy's voice that even a stone heart might have been moved. "Just tell us what's wrong with him! Anything! A couple of questions!"

The drake's face suddenly transformed. That same cunning, smug smirk appeared on it again. He seemed to enjoy seeing their torment.

"Well..." the stranger drawled, pretending to yield to their pleas. "Why not? Ask your questions."

"Who are these kids next to Louie?" Dewey blurted out first, jabbing his finger at the photograph. "And why are they all tied up?"

"Ethan and Amanda Balcom," the drake replied impassively. "Your triplet's younger brother and sister. Strange that you know nothing about them. And they were tied up... for atmosphere. So they wouldn't run off ahead of time, obviously," he sneered, while the children exchanged glances, realizing their worst guesses were being confirmed.

"Are they alright now?" Webby asked, trying to speak as politely as possible.

"Not the faintest idea. I am not currently on the Continent of Evil to monitor their escapades."

The ducklings felt their hopes melting like ice cream in the sun. They were again hitting a wall of hopelessness.

"Can we... can we contact Louie somehow?" Huey asked, almost without hope.

"I doubt it," the drake shook his head. "Communication with the Continent of Evil is blocked at the root. If you don't have special, 'villainous' equipment, you can forget about any communication."

This final answer finished off the children. Even knowing where their brother was, they couldn't hear his voice, couldn't make sure he was alive and well.

"What about—" Dewey began, but the stranger rose sharply.

"It seems the 'couple of questions' are exhausted," the drake said, straightening his jacket. "I don't have time to answer your endless questionnaire. Good luck."

And the stranger, without looking back, walked away, leaving the children alone with their grief. The ducklings' pleas and pleading glances made no impression on him whatsoever.

Left alone, the Ducks silently sank down at a free table. Despair washed over them in a heavy wave.

"If the adults don't want to or can't risk it," Dewey said with sudden determination, pushing the menu away from him, "why don't we go to the Continent of Evil ourselves?"

Huey and Webby looked at the duckling with disbelief.

"We don't even know where that place is," Huey objected. "And Mom and our uncles definitely won't tell us. They don't want us putting ourselves in danger."

The blue duckling whined in frustration and dropped his head onto the table. He didn't care about the dangers if there was a chance to get his brother back.

"But your mom said we'd find a way!" Webby tried to cheer up her friends. It was unbearably painful for her to see their suffering. She understood the twins because she felt the same emptiness and pain from losing Louie. Over the years, he had become as close to her as a brother.

Soon the waiter brought them three huge sundae glasses. Discussing the new, frightening information, the ducklings slowly started on their sweet treats. And, as often happens, the dessert really did help—it lifted their spirits a little and gave them strength.

Three children against a whole world of problems, and the same thought burned in their hearts: they would never give up. They would fight for their triplet until the very end. As long as the bond between them lived, nothing could stop them. Nothing.

Chapter Text

"Three aces! I win!"

Amanda's triumphant cry cut through the tense silence in the room. She slammed her precious cards onto the center of the circle on the floor and sprang to her feet like a released spring. Her eyes sparkled, and a smug smirk played on her beak. She cast a challenging look at her opponents—her brothers, whose faces were frozen in a mix of disappointment and disbelief.

"We are not playing with her anymore," Ethan said calmly, but a note of irritation seeped through his feigned indifference. He tossed his stack of cards into the pile with disgust, and they fanned out. His displeased face twisted into a grimace, making Louie smile as he covered his own beak with a hand.

"By the rules of fair play, the winner takes all," the older brother proclaimed with mock solemnity. "So, your wish, O great champion?"

The girl thought for a moment, humming mysteriously and propping her cheek with a small fist. Her eyes twinkled with cunning sparks, as if she were sorting through the most absurd and tricky options in her mind.

"What is this! No one can beat me at games of chance!" the younger one fumed, boiling with indignation. He pointed a finger at his sister. "You'd never even played cards before! Where did this skill come from?"

"Beginners' luck, as they say," Louie parried with an unflappable look, only raising an eyebrow meaningfully.

Ethan groaned loudly at this calm reply, dramatically grabbing his head and covering his face with his hands as if hiding from the world's injustice. Louie, meanwhile, shifted his thoughtful gaze from his brother to his sister, who still seemed lost in thought, as if weighing something on invisible scales.

"You know what... I don't even know... Can I save my wish for later?" Amanda finally uttered, her voice tinged with mystery.

"Hmm, yes, why not," the older duckling conceded magnanimously, rising to his knees with a slight groan. He stretched, working out his stiff muscles, then bent down to pick up his disgruntled brother, who whined even louder and went limp.

Amanda, meanwhile, walked over to the table, selected the largest, most appetizing chocolate chip cookie, and carefully placed her jerboa, Gerald, on the soft sofa. Handing the treat to her pet, she watched tenderly as he cutely twitched his whiskers and began nibbling the offering, amusingly tilting his head to the side.

Louie turned to look at his smiling sister and was suddenly overcome with a desire to pet the little animal too. He slowly brought his hand to Gerald and began gently scratching behind his ear. The jerboa closed his eyes and didn't resist.

"Come on, say he's cute, isn't he?" Amanda asked quietly, almost in a whisper, not taking her admiring eyes off the rodent.

"Undoubtedly," Louie nodded, and his smile became genuinely warm.

Ethan, meanwhile, walked around the sofa from the other side and leaned against its back with a theatrical sigh, sprawling like a martyr.

"So, what are the plans for today?"

"Work..." Amanda and Louie drawled in near unison, their voices exhausted and hollow. Ethan sighed desperately in solidarity, as if sharing their invisible burden.

Without another word, the girl carefully picked up Gerald and settled him in her hood, where he immediately curled into a cozy ball. Waving a light farewell with her hand, Amanda ran out of the room.

"She... she couldn't have been cheating, could she?" Ethan blurted out sharply, his voice holding not so much resentment as a smoldering curiosity masked by a joking tone.

The older brother turned to him and looked surprised, as if he'd just heard blasphemous heresy.

"Amanda? And cheating? Those two words can't even be in the same sentence, I think!"

"I just don't get HOW she could win," Ethan muttered, frowning skeptically.

"You just had bad luck today, that's all. It happens."

Ethan narrowed his eyes, looking at his brother with silent reproach, trying to decipher if there was mockery behind his words.

"You just don't know who I usually beat! Some legendary players tremble at the mere mention of my name!"

"Ah... That explains a lot..." Louie smirked mysteriously, and his eyes flashed with green sparks.

"What, for example, what does it explain?" Ethan instantly became wary.

"Oh, look at the time!" the older one exclaimed with feigned bustle, jumping up from the sofa. A high note of sarcasm was audible in his voice. "I think I have to go! Work awaits!"

"Hey! Wait! What does it explain?!" Ethan jumped up, ready to give chase.

But Louie was already at the door. He turned, stopping his brother with a gesture, and his face lit up with a carefree, roguish smile.

"I'll tell you everything tonight! Honest villain's promise! For now—bye!" the heir waved cheerfully and disappeared behind the door. Of course, he had no intention of telling him anything. It was just a small, elegant revenge for all the countless jabs and taunts Ethan had subjected him to before. Such was their ritual, their special language of brotherly love, expressed in an endless series of pranks.

---

"Good morning, Louie," Emily's soft, melodic voice greeted the duckling as soon as he crossed the threshold of the office.

The girl turned for a moment to throw him a quick, friendly glance, then immediately immersed herself back in studying the papers she was sorting through with a concerned look in her slender fingers.

"Morning," Louie replied, yawning. "What's new?"

"Oh," Emily waved a hand as if shooing away a pesky fly. "Nothing interesting, I suppose. At least, nothing good. Here, take this," she handed him a hefty stack of documents. "You need to sign every one of these sheets. Preferably by the end of the day."

The sight of this paper mountain made Louie groan loudly and hopelessly. At that moment, he would have given anything to be back in that carefree reality where he could lounge on the sofa all day, watch TV, and sip ice-cold soda.

With a joyless expression, Louie threw the documents onto the desk and flopped heavily into the chair. His gaze fell on his friend, and he noticed her pulling a small but elegant cardboard box tied with a silk ribbon from under the table.

"What's that?" Louie asked with mild curiosity as Emily silently placed the box in front of him.

The boy opened the lid and looked inside. His eyes met a multitude of envelopes of all sizes and shades, neatly stacked in piles. Some were plain, others were adorned with intricate patterns and even perfumed.

"Letters," Emily replied simply. "For you."

Louie picked up a few envelopes, turning them over. They were all from different senders, names that meant nothing to him.

"Strange... Who could it be?" the boy muttered in complete bewilderment.

The smile on Emily's face suddenly faded and was replaced by a strange, serious expression, as if answering this question brought her no joy.

"Your admirers, of course," the advisor said, her voice sounding deliberately neutral.

"What?" Louie looked up from the box and stared at the girl with pure, unadulterated amazement.

Emily, in turn, stretched a fake, overly bright smile.

"Does that surprise you? You're from a famous and wealthy family. In other words, you're one of the most eligible bachelors on the entire Continent of Evil. Now it's just a matter of figuring out which of these strangers loves you for real, and who is just skillfully pretending to get your fortune and title."

Hearing such a direct and cynical answer, Louie blushed in embarrassment. The boy looked sadly at the box again, assessing its impressive volume. Yes, he often noticed strangers looking at him, but most of those looks were full of envy or outright dislike, the reasons for which the duckling couldn't understand.

"Really? But if their feelings are so strong, why are they only speaking up now, and through paper at that..."

"Oh, come on! The Royal Ball is soon! Haven't you heard?"

Louie strained his memory, trying to pull out any information from its recesses. And suddenly it hit him—the twins had mentioned this grand event in passing. The Royal Ball was held once every five years, and its main purpose was to give heirs of noble families a chance to meet and perhaps unite their clans in the future.

"I've heard..." Louie said slowly. "The one where they say, whoever you spend the evening with, you'll marry. Isn't that stupid? Choosing a partner almost in childhood? What if your feelings change?"

Emily giggled quietly, watching her friend frown, completely absorbed in serious thought.

"You've slightly misunderstood the point. You don't necessarily have to marry the one you dance with. This ball is just an opportunity to see if there's anyone among the attendees who might be a potential match for you. But you must attend!"

"And so... I need to choose someone... from them?" Louie said with unconcealed sadness in his voice, pointing to the box of letters.

Emily just nodded uncertainly and sighed quietly, as if sharing his difficult position.

Starting to sign the documents, the boy soon felt his mind fogging up from the monotonous work. He wasn't even trying to read the fine print anymore, knowing from experience he wouldn't find anything dangerous or interesting there. Louie pushed the box of letters to the farthest corner of the desk, as if it were a source of some contagion.

At first, Emily was also busy with work, sorting papers next to the heir, but soon her movements became faster. She began rummaging through the desk drawers, moving stacks of notebooks on the shelves, looking into every corner. Finally, noticing this useless bustle, Louie looked up from his papers and turned to his friend.

"Something wrong? What are you looking for?"

"I can't find my planner!" the girl exclaimed, almost desperately. "I desperately need it! I write everything down in it!"

Giving up, Emily sadly scanned the cluttered desk, piled high with a heap of notebooks in which, apparently, the coveted planner was not to be found.

"Maybe you lost it somewhere?"

"I'm afraid so," Emily sighed. "Well, I'll have to go to the city for a new one. Do you mind if I step out for a bit?"

The girl turned to her friend, awaiting his answer. Of course, Louie wouldn't oppose her, but the thought of having to sit alone in this stuffy room and sign endless, useless papers horrified the child. It was a real nightmare!

"No, I don't mind..." Louie began uncertainly and, hesitating, added, "Can... I come with you?"

The boy looked at his friend sheepishly, caught her surprised gaze, and immediately lowered his eyes.

"If you want..." Emily said quietly, almost in a whisper.

The advisor quickly turned away and pretended to adjust the folds of her uniform, just so Louie wouldn't see the bright, treacherous blush flooding her cheeks.

Hearing the agreement, the boy literally transformed. He joyfully bounded over to his friend, and all his previous apathy seemed to evaporate, replaced by the anticipation of a trip to the wonderful city. And together, the children hurried away from the boring office, towards the fresh wind and lively streets of the Continent of Evil.

---

"What store are we looking for?" the duckling inquired, looking around the buildings with curiosity. He had been here before with the twins, but the Continent of Evil always struck him with its unusual charm. In Duckburg, everything was familiar, predictable, even a bit boring, while here every facade, every shop window was a small work of art, a riot of colors and whimsical architectural forms that made his eyes dart around.

"We're almost there," Emily said with lightness in her voice, pointing to one of the shops that looked like a gingerbread house from a fairy tale.

The boy was immediately drawn to its elegant purple-and-white sign, on which the words "Paper Dreams" were written in a fancy script. Bushes of lush, velvety roses encircled the shop in a picturesque ring, and their thick, sweetish aroma hit Louie's beak. Nearby, spreading its mighty branches, stood an ancient tree that had become a noisy dormitory for a flock of colorful birds. They hopped on the branches, chirped incessantly, and flitted from branch to branch.

When the children crossed the threshold, they were met not just by bright light, but a cascade of radiance emanating from a crystal chandelier. Louie froze, stunned by the sight: countless shelves, stretching deep into the hall, were crammed with stationery of all kinds and colors, rolls of patterned fabrics, and ready-made outfits. He looked around in confusion, completely baffled by this abundance. Emily, as if reading his thoughts, confidently grabbed his hand and pulled him along, weaving between the shelves. Soon they found themselves at the right section, where notebooks of all sizes and colors of the rainbow were neatly stacked on the shelves.

"What do you think is better?" Emily asked thoughtfully, turning to the heir.

Louie perked up. In her hands, the girl held two notebooks—one purple, one blue. Both featured adorable smiling cat faces.

"I think that..." the green-eyed one began, carefully weighing the choice.

"Emily? Emily Holliday?" a loud, astonished voice behind the ducklings abruptly cut Louie off mid-sentence.

The children turned around simultaneously. Standing at the entrance to the section was a duckling in a white shirt with a neat tie. Emily's face instantly lit up with such a bright and sincere smile that Louie felt the shop had brightened.

"Sam!" the girl exclaimed.

Without a second thought, Emily shoved the notebooks into the stunned Louie's hands and swiftly rushed into the stranger's arms. A moment later, she pulled away, still beaming.

"Didn't think I'd see you here!"

"Ha, likewise! Didn't you move away?"

"I live here again!"

Emily's eyes shone with genuine delight, and her smile seemed to grow even wider. Louie silently watched the scene, feeling like an invisible extra. A strange, new, and very unpleasant feeling stirred inside him—acrid, like a tangle of barbed wire stuck in his throat. He was squeezing the notebooks so hard the spines cracked, and a tense, almost stern mask froze on his face.

"Emily, aren't you going to introduce us?" Louie finally spoke, stepping closer. The words came out with difficulty, through clenched teeth.

"Ah, yes, sorry!" the girl started, slightly flustered. "Sam, this is Fred! Fred, this is Sam, my best childhood friend!"

"Best childhood friend." Those words sounded like a verdict to Louie. Sam threw him a quick, appraising glance, in which clear irritation at the sudden intrusion was evident.

"Let me guess, you're one of the Balcoms?" he drawled, and his grumbling tone held open dislike.

The heir was irritated by such audacity. He opened his beak to retort, but Emily, as if with a shield, covered her old friend.

"Yes, he's the eldest son of Mr. Balcom. I'm Fred's advisor!" the girl hastily explained, trying to smooth over the growing tension.

"Have you been associating with them for long?" Sam put a special emphasis on the last word, throwing a poisonous look at Louie.

"Stop it..."

This conversation was making the green-eyed one feel increasingly awkward and superfluous. It seemed he should have been used to such attitudes by now, but this particular duckling, with his smug smirk, grated on his nerves with double the force. The way the stranger looked at him—down his nose, with a contemptuous sneer—made his blood run cold.

Emily, acutely sensing the air thickening, hurried to intervene.

"Oh, I think we should probably go..." the advisor began, trying to lead Louie away.

"Ah, yes, Emily, how about we meet up later?" Sam interrupted her, immediately switching from anger to graciousness and addressing her with a charming smile.

"Well, of course!" the girl agreed with undiminished joy.

Louie could only watch silently as the ducklings exchanged phone numbers. He felt utterly drained, and that acrid feeling inside had grown to hurricane proportions, scorching everything in its path. To top it all off, Sam, catching the heir's gaze, threw him a mocking, triumphant smile that made Louie go cold inside.

But no. The young villain wasn't going to give up so easily. His fingers tightened on the notebook spines again. If this was war, he was ready to fight.

---

Remembering the encounter in the shop, which had left an unpleasant aftertaste, Louie struggled to drag the box of letters to his room. The cardboard weight in his hands felt not just like the weight of paper, but the burden of others' expectations. He entered the common room, where Amanda was sitting on the sofa, legs tucked under her. The younger girl was curiously examining the envelopes scattered around her, remarkably similar to the ones the heir had.

"I see you haven't escaped the honor of being an eligible bachelor either!" Amanda cheerfully looked up, hearing her brother's footsteps.

Relieved, Louie put the box on the floor, straightened up with a crack in his back, and flopped onto the sofa next to his sister.

"Uh-huh," the boy muttered. "Didn't think there'd be so... many. A whole army of strangers."

"Hmm, come on! Don't pretend!" Amanda playfully nudged the older one with her shoulder. "It's not that surprising! You're the heir, smart, and kinda good-looking too."

Louie turned his head and smiled gratefully at the girl. The younger one responded with her signature cute grin and, without further ceremony, plunged her hand into his box.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Louie asked, more out of curiosity than protest.

"I want to see which of these society ladies dared to send an invitation to my brother!" Amanda proclaimed with feigned importance.

Taking a decent stack, Amanda began flipping through it, scanning the names. She occasionally frowned, sometimes muttered quietly upon encountering familiar surnames.

"What, recognized someone?" a chuckle was audible in Louie's voice as he watched the changing emotions on his sister's face.

"Not all, but..." Amanda pulled out one of the envelopes and, rolling her eyes, shook it in the air. "For example, Isla Revera! That gossip and schemer isn't worthy of going to the ball with my brother! She's so nasty that milk would curdle if she just looked at it!"

Louie laughed, and this made Amanda relax and smile back, though her smile was a bit cautious. The boy's gaze inadvertently slid over his sister's cheek, and his own laughter died, encountering sadness.

A deep, fresh, red scar was visible on Amanda's delicate face. The girl felt it with every movement, and even now, smiling, she winced slightly, hiding a twitch of pain.

Under their clothes, all the ducklings had numerous abrasions and bruises—silent witnesses to the recent nightmare. Only two days had passed since that strange masked guy had kidnapped them, and the wounds, both physical and emotional, hadn't yet healed.

Ethan entered the room briskly, struggling to hold an equally impressive box of letters. He was beaming with pride and set his load down with a thud next to his siblings' boxes.

"Fifty-seven letters!" the heir announced with pathos, wiping a non-existent sweaty strand from his forehead. "Not a bad haul, eh?"

"Impressive," Amanda played along with a sly grin, already knowing the answer to her next question. "And which of the fifty-seven contenders will you honor with your choice?"

"None of them!" Ethan exclaimed with knightly fervor, pressing a hand to his chest. "I will only go with the one who owns my heart! The rest are but pale shadows in her light!"

Louie and Amanda exchanged amused glances, listening to their brother. There was a charm in his romanticism and maximalism.

The children spent another half-hour discussing who had written to them, giving each other advice, joking and laughing. But soon fatigue took its toll, and the ducklings decided to go to their respective rooms to rest.

The older one, left alone, collapsed onto the bed, closing his eyes. He tried to sort through all the events of the last few days in his head, but his thoughts were tangled. Soon he grew tired of just lying there, and Louie got up to approach the mirror. On the way, his gaze fell on that very toy—the small rag doll copy of himself that his father had once given him. And the boy froze.

Something was wrong with it. Louie picked up the doll, and goosebumps ran down his spine. His little copy was covered in the same wounds as he was: skillfully executed seams and cuts mirrored the pattern of his own scars. Confused and alarmed, the duckling, without a second thought, ran to his sister's room. Knocking, he heard Amanda approach the door.

"What's wrong?" the girl asked, opening it. "We saw each other like ten minutes ago."

Louie, without a word, handed his sister the doll, jabbing his finger at the red, drawn-on cuts.

"What does this mean, Amanda? Why is it... bruised like me?!"

The younger one took the doll, casting a puzzled but calm look at her brother.

"Hmm, Louie, I told you, these toys have a piece of our souls. They're not just sewn from fabric. Of course, they're connected to us!"

"So, it's like... a voodoo doll, but in reverse?" the older one clarified, still not fully understanding.

"In a way, yes. We get hurt—and it shows on the toy. It's our shared pain."

Louie's face became more thoughtful, and the girl noticed. She invited him into her room, took her own doll copy from the shelf, and showed it to her brother. Indeed, the toy Amanda was covered in the same bruises and cuts.

"You're right," Louie whispered quietly.

The older one's gaze fell on the bed, where next to the pillow lay that mysterious amulet the children had found when they met the pack of jerboas.

"And this?.. Did you figure out what it does?"

The girl turned, took the pendant in her hands. It was cold. Amanda sighed, closing the book on ancient artifacts lying nearby, and turned back to her brother.

"No. Not yet. Maybe it really is just a decoration? Mom didn't write anything about it in her diary... But magical animals couldn't have been guarding something that doesn't possess magic, could they?"

Louie just shrugged. If anyone could find the answer, it was Amanda. Seeing her sad, tired face, he approached and hugged the younger one. She froze for a moment, then relaxed in his embrace.

It was already one in the morning, and the boy went to his own room. He was terribly sleepy, and as soon as his head touched the pillow, the heir fell into oblivion.

---

The nightmare came again. At dawn, Louie woke with a racing heart and a face damp with sweat. He caught his breath with difficulty, then took an extra vial of medicine from his bedside table and headed to his office, where Emily was probably already waiting for him.

The girl was standing by the window, scrolling through something on her bracelet screen, but immediately looked away when she saw her friend. Her gaze became attentive and wary—she immediately noticed his pallor and the shadows under his eyes. Emily approached the heir. Louie silently handed her the vial of thick liquid. Seeing her bewilderment, he hurried to explain, stammering.

"This is... medicine. I thought... that it's better for you to keep it close. Just in case. If I start acting strange, not like myself... for your own safety, you have to make me drink this!"

"Wait, what?" Emily's look became anxious, she instinctively took a small step back, clutching the vial in her hand. "What do you mean?"

"My... evil personality. It can take over. And I don't want... I don't want that to happen around you. The serum helps, but... I can't always control it..."

"So... give this to you if I see that you're... not you?" Emily interrupted the green-eyed one, trying to grasp the essence. She saw his embarrassment and real, genuine anxiety.

Louie just nodded, and an uncertain, almost guilty smile appeared on his beak. Emily, trying to encourage her friend, responded with an encouraging grin and hid the vial in the pocket of her uniform.

"You know, I've been meaning to tell you..." Louie began, feeling his heart pound for a different reason now.

But the duckling was interrupted again. This time, Sam burst into the room without knocking.

"Good morning, Emily! And... Fred," he said the last name with such a sweet, yet unconcealed contemptuous tone that Louie gritted his teeth in irritation. The heir rolled his eyes, feeling the familiar acrid anger rising in his chest again.

"Sam! What are you doing here?" Emily exclaimed joyfully, her face immediately lighting up with a smile.

"Came to get you! Couldn't wait until tonight. Do you mind going to the apple orchard, right now? Like in the good old days?" the duckling threw a fake innocent look at Louie.

The green-eyed one crossed his arms over his chest, watching the "opponent" with cold distrust. Sam irritated him more than all the other ill-wishers combined. And Louie himself couldn't understand why this mocking face provoked such a violent rejection in him. Unlike him, Emily was radiant with happiness at the sight of her old friend.

"Now?" the advisor thought for a moment. "But, only if Fred lets me go..."

Both ducklings turned to Louie. Sam's face was frozen in a mask of ostentatious respectfulness, through which displeasure seeped. The heir felt the weight of this silent expectation pressing on him. He sighed heavily.

"Well... if you really want to... I suppose I can manage here alone."

"Thank you, thank you! You're the best!" Emily rushed to Louie with a sincere impulse and hugged him as tightly as she could.

From this sudden embrace, the duckling's face flushed with a deep blush, and a warm, pleasant feeling spread through his chest, momentarily driving away all the anxiety and anger.

"Yeah, sure..." Louie whispered in a strained voice when his friend finally released him. The young villain didn't want the girl to leave, but how could he be selfish? The fear of causing her displeasure outweighed everything else.

"Sam, wait here a minute! I just need to grab something from my room!" Emily commanded and fluttered out of the room, leaving the two ducklings alone.

The heir snorted loudly, demonstratively turning towards the window.

"Strange," Sam broke the heavy silence. "That she's so kind to you. As if to a real friend."

At these words, something turned over inside Louie. He slowly, almost mechanically, turned to Sam.

"Yeah?" the green-eyed one's voice sounded low and dangerous. "And why do you think that is?"

"Haven't you figured it out? You're one of the Balcoms. All the nobility is so... vile in their arrogance! What are you even hoping for? That she, some Cinderella, will be thrilled by your attention?"

Sam took a few steps forward, approaching the heir. Louie's hands clenched into fists. The anger smoldering inside was ready to burst out. Sam just smirked, seeing his rival's face transform.

"Emily doesn't think I'm 'bad'!" Louie hissed through his teeth. "Maybe you should listen to her, not to gossip!"

Sam looked at the child with sudden seriousness mixed with surprise, as if he had just unraveled his most important secret.

"Wait a minute..." he drew out the word, and a knowing smile spread across his face. "So that's it. You... like Emily, don't you?"

"None of your business, got it?!" Louie shouted. His voice trembled with rage and fear. His heart was pounding wildly, and his fists were clenched so tight it hurt.

"Aha, so I'm right," Sam stated triumphantly.

The next moment, the duckling lunged forward sharply, grabbed Louie by the shoulders, and forcefully threw him to the floor.

"Hey!" the heir managed to shout.

"Here's the thing: you can forget about your feelings! You'll never be with her! All the nobility is awful, and you're no exception, so don't even hope!"

Blinded by fury, Louie jumped up, swinging his arm for a punch. But at that moment, the door swung open.

"All set! We can go!" Emily announced cheerfully.

Sam instantly transformed. He ran up to his friend with an innocent smile, but managed to throw a mocking, triumphant look over his shoulder at Louie before leaving. As soon as they disappeared behind the door, the duckling punched the wall with force and let out a choked, furious cry.

---

"No, just imagine! That smug idiot dared to say that to ME! Right to my face!"

Amanda listened attentively to her older brother, though she pretended to be completely absorbed in cleaning. She was moving books and trinkets from shelf to shelf, creating an appearance of activity, while Louie paced back and forth across her bedroom like a caged tiger, pouring out his rage. Sometimes the younger one inserted an automatic "uh-huh" or "yep" just to keep the conversation going.

"How that Sam infuriates me! How can Emily even be friends with him?! He's disgusting!" Louie shouted again, stopping in the middle of the room and throwing his hands up in despair.

The boy whined loudly and collapsed onto the bed in exhaustion, burying his face in the blanket. Amanda suddenly turned to him, and a sly, playful smirk appeared on her face.

"Wait a second, wait a second," the girl drawled, coming closer. "Are you, like, jealous or something?"

Louie jumped up as if stung. His cheeks flushed with a deep, treacherous blush. His sister watched his metamorphosis, and her smile grew even wider.

"What? No, of course not!" the older one protested, but his voice gave him away completely. "It's just... it's all so strange and unpleasant!"

Amanda giggled merrily and sat down next to him on the edge of the bed.

"Calm down, I understood perfectly," the heiress looked him straight in the eyes, and Louie, unable to withstand that gaze, gave in. He sat down again, dropping his head helplessly.

"Still, Sam is right..." the boy muttered quietly. "Emily would never look in the direction of someone from the Balcoms... Why would she?" He covered his face with his hands again and fell back onto the pillows.

Amanda theatrically rolled her eyes. She knew the truth, but didn't want to offer advice right now. She was worried about her brother's state, but understood that she shouldn't impose.

"Ugh, my brothers—two lovestruck idiots, just from different poles!" Amanda exclaimed with feigned annoyance.

Louie lifted his head with a silent question in his eyes. The girl walked over to the dresser, took a worn photograph from an old album, and handed it to him. The picture showed a beaming Ethan holding a girl's hand.

"Is that... Brielle?"

"Yep," Amanda nodded. "He asked her to the last Royal Ball. Ethan's been in love with her for, like, a hundred years, but still hasn't found the courage to confess. Stupid, isn't it?" She winked at her brother and laughed.

Louie couldn't help but smile in response, but suddenly his gaze became intent. He turned to his sister.

"Are you saying you don't like anyone yourself?" the duckling asked, raising an eyebrow. "You, by the way, have a whole army of suitors, judging by that mountain of letters. And you haven't singled anyone out?"

Amanda's face changed sharply. All her cheerfulness evaporated, replaced by a thoughtful, even slightly sad smile. She snorted and sat down next to him.

"They're all... not my type. Too pompous, or stupid, or only look at our last name," Amanda fell silent, then added quietly, looking at the floor, "Besides... there is one. One who's better than all of them combined."

The girl blushed and, as if catching herself, fell abruptly silent, staring at her hands.

"Yeah?" an answering sly smile bloomed on Louie's face. "And who is this lucky guy who's earned my sister's attention?"

"I'm not telling you!" Amanda snorted, turning away and leaning her head on her brother's shoulder to hide her embarrassment.

"What? Why?" Louie was genuinely indignant.

"Because it's stupid! And... and because my love is most likely not mutual at all!" the girl blurted out, burying her beak in his shirt.

Louie looked at her frowning little face with a bittersweet smile. It seemed so defenseless and cute to him at that moment. And the heir knew one thing for sure: no matter what happened, he would never let the younger one be hurt, and he wouldn't let anyone in the world offend her.

---

The evening air in the common room was thick with tension. Ethan and Louie, sitting on the floor, were engaged in a fierce card duel. Amanda wasn't with them, and the fraternal confrontation had taken on a special edge. Both ducklings didn't take their eyes off the cards, as if the fate of the universe depended on the outcome.

"So, ready to admit defeat, bro?" Ethan sneered, slowly shuffling his deck, savoring the moment.

"I'm not one who's used to losing," Louie exclaimed, his fingers squeezing the cards so hard the cardboard slightly crumpled.

Ethan threw his winning combination onto the carpet with a triumphant air. The cards landed with an air of knowing their undeniable power.

"Still confident?" the younger one drawled gloatingly, and his beak spread into the most self-satisfied smirk imaginable.

Louie tossed his cards into the general pile with an irritated snort.

"Alright, alright! Victory is yours. Happy?"

At that moment, the door to the room swung open with a bang, and Amanda appeared on the threshold. Her eyes were burning with such excitement they seemed about to spark. She was literally bouncing with impatience.

"I figured it out! I figured out what the amulet does!" the girl blurted out, interrupting her brothers.

"What?!" the boys exclaimed in unison, instantly forgetting the card battle and jumping to their feet.

The younger one, without a word, ran to the table, grabbed the pocketknife lying there, and resolutely handed it to Louie. He recoiled in surprise.

"Here," Amanda declared in a commanding tone. "Stab me with it."

A tomblike silence fell in the room. Ethan and Louie exchanged glances in complete bewilderment, instinctively moving away from their sister.

"Have you lost your mind? Why?" Ethan protested fearfully, his gaze darting from the knife to what he thought was his sister's crazy face.

"I won't do it!" Louie stated firmly, pushing the blade away. "That's insane, Amanda!"

The girl frowned and, without a second thought, with lightning-fast resolve, grabbed the knife herself and, with a swing, plunged it into her own palm.

"No!" the brothers shouted in horror, rushing towards the younger one.

But instead of a bloody wound and a cry of pain, the ducklings were met with something else. The blade, barely touching her feathers, shattered into dozens of small, glittering fragments with a loud crunch, which scattered across the floor with a light ring. Amanda's palm remained completely unharmed.

"Cool, huh?" the girl announced triumphantly, beaming, blowing an invisible speck of dust off her undamaged skin.

Louie stood, unable to utter a word, his beak agape in astonishment. Ethan stared at the fragments with eyes wide in shock.

"You're both going to be the death of me..." Louie finally managed, recovering from the panic. "What was that?"

"The amulet!" Amanda proudly displayed the pendant. "It creates an impenetrable protective field. Against any damage!"

"Wow! Let me have it!" Ethan, forgetting his fear, reached greedily for the magical trinket.

But Amanda nimbly jumped back, pressing the amulet to her chest.

"Hey, no! You can't do it like that! To activate it, you need to eat a red berry! Without it, it's just a pretty trinket."

The brothers stared at their sister with a new wave of bewilderment.

"And how did you figure that out?" Louie asked, his voice tinged with both admiration and slight anxiety.

"My personal observations plus knowledge from Mom's book!" Amanda straightened up proudly, hiding the amulet under her clothes again. "Everything genius is simple, if you know where to look."

Ethan pouted and plopped onto the sofa with a huff, crossing his arms.

"Could we... could we use it in the games?" Louie said with sudden hope in his voice. "At least so one of us is completely safe."

"No," Amanda shook her head, and the hope in her brother's eyes died. "That would be outright cheating. They wouldn't just fine us—they'd disqualify us in disgrace. The game rules are thought out to the smallest detail; no magic would go unnoticed there."

Louie sighed sadly. He had so hoped there would be some way not to risk his life in this dangerous hunt. The duckling was clutching at every straw, but it seemed fate kept proving to him, again and again, that there were no easy paths.

"Besides..." Amanda looked at her brothers with regret, "...I'm out of red berries."

"So we'll buy more! We're not poor!" Ethan exclaimed with his usual pride.

"We can't," Amanda stated disappointedly. "They don't grow on the Continent of Evil, only beyond its borders. I used to buy them from a traveling merchant, but he... disappeared. Doesn't bring anything anymore."

The three ducklings sighed heavily together. The air filled again with the bitterness of realizing their limited options. After talking a bit more about the uselessness of their discovery under the current circumstances, the children went to their respective rooms.

It was late, but Louie couldn't close his eyes. He tossed and turned in bed, and thoughts of everything that had happened, of Emily, of how she had hugged him today, swirled in his head. Then Sam's face would appear—arrogant, sarcastic. His own feelings were like a tangled ball of thread: jealousy, insecurity, the first timid attachment, and the bitterness of the conditional wall between them.

The child's entire life had been turned upside down lately. Sometimes he caught himself habitually looking around the room for his triplet brothers, hearing their laughter in his memory. He missed them with an ache in his chest, but the resentment—the one that had lodged in his heart like a splinter—was too deep and showed no signs of leaving.

But here, in the world of villains, despite all the dangers and difficulties, the boy could be himself. His real self. Here, he wasn't judged for his past; here, most people were glad to see him. He felt he had finally found his place. And Louie wouldn't trade this fragile, yet so important feeling of belonging for anything in the world. He was happy here, on the Continent of Evil, and he was ready to defend this new home to the end.

Chapter Text

With a tired, almost groaning sigh, the duckling got out of bed. His body ached, his eyelids were heavy, but he couldn't sleep any longer—the unnatural-for-him schedule on the Continent of Evil was turning his biorhythms inside out.

Louie forced himself to wash his face with icy water and change clothes. The daily ritual—a careful self-examination in the mirror—today bore only bitter fruit. A tired, pale face, worn out by the shadows of sleepless nights, stared back at him. Deep bruises under his eyes only enhanced the impression of a living corpse. The boy touched them with his fingertips, as if hoping to erase them, and let out another heavy, hopeless sigh.

Finishing his morning inspection, Louie reached for the button near the door to leave. But as soon as he took a step forward, a sharp, popping sound deafened him, and multicolored confetti flew into his face. With a yelp, the heir stumbled backward, caught his foot on the edge of the plush rug, and crashed to the floor with the grace of a sack of potatoes.

"Happy birthday, Louie!" the twins shouted in unison, with sincere joy.

When the stars stopped dancing before his eyes, the older one saw Ethan and Amanda standing over him in festive, colorful party hats. In their hands were neatly wrapped boxes tied with ribbons.

Louie looked at them in complete bewilderment. The lingering nightmare of the past few days, anxieties about the future, and heavy thoughts had completely pushed the memory of his own birthday from his mind. And now, looking at the beaming faces of his brother and sister, he felt warm, treacherous tears roll down his cheeks, and an uncertain, trembling smile spread across his beak.

"You... you remembered?"

The twins exchanged glances, puzzled by such a stormy reaction. Tears were not the response they expected to their surprise.

"Well, of course we remember!" Ethan frowned, still not understanding. "What kind of strange questions? How could we forget?"

Getting up from the floor, Louie, beside himself, threw himself at his family with hugs, squeezing them so tightly as if afraid they would dissolve any second. The gifts fell from the children's hands in surprise. Gerald, in a tiny party hat, was sitting on Amanda's shoulder. The jerboa, sensing trouble, deftly jumped onto the table, avoiding being crushed in this emotional scrum.

"Thank you!.." was all the older one could squeeze out, his voice breaking with overwhelming emotion.

"Ow, Louie, you're choking me!" Ethan grumbled with feigned indignation, though his cheeks were already pink with embarrassment.

The boy let go of his family, wiping his tears with his sleeve. Amanda, without wasting a second, deftly plopped a party hat on his head. Picking up the boxes from the floor, the twins presented them to the birthday boy with a triumphant air. He looked at them with a radiant, albeit awkward, smile, feeling a long-forgotten warmth spreading through his chest.

"This is something you really need!" Amanda declared proudly as the birthday boy prepared to open the packaging.

Louie first took his brother's gift. Opening the box, he pulled out an elegant but sturdy knife, engraved with the same complex emblem that adorned their family tattoos.

"It was hellishly difficult to get this exact model and engrave our symbol," Ethan boasted, "but now you can be a bit calmer about your safety! You obviously could use some extra protection!" He grinned good-naturedly. The older one laughed shortly, knowing his brother was right.

Attaching the knife to his belt, Louie took his sister's gift. Opening the box, he noticed the very same mysterious amulet they had recently examined. Only now, its surface also featured the Balcom family crest, polished to a shine. Before the boy could ask, Amanda, beaming with pride, hurried to explain.

"I... modified it a bit. Charged it with an additional spell! Now it not only protects but also helps calm the mind, to worry less. That means it'll be harder for your dark side to break through!"

Louie looked at the gifts with gratitude. The twins had put so much care and attention into them that his heart constricted with the feelings overwhelming him.

"Thank you!" the boy exhaled, raising his eyes. "You... you're the best!"

This time, Amanda took the initiative—she ran and jumped into her half-brother's arms. Ethan, after a second's hesitation, joined the group hug.

Pulling away, Louie immediately put the pendant around his neck. And strange thing—he almost physically felt the heavy, pressing stone of anxiety in his chest lighten. But almost immediately, other, bitter thoughts flooded in: what were Huey and Dewey doing right now? How were they celebrating this day? The boy remembered with painful clarity how the twins had pointedly ignored him in the days before his escape. "No," Louie sternly cut himself off, pushing these thoughts away, "Not now." He had a new family now, so why these memories? He didn't want to dwell on that question, still harboring resentment towards the Ducks deep inside.

The twins, not letting him sink into heavy thoughts, called their brother to training. Even an occasion like a birthday didn't mean leniency. For Louie, this was akin to punishment, but he didn't even try to argue—discipline on the Continent of Evil was ironclad.

Not wanting to upset the birthday boy on his holiday, Ethan intentionally held back, letting his brother gain the upper hand in their sparring. Louie, of course, was no fool and understood everything, but childish joy from the imaginary triumph still filled his soul to the brim. Soon, however, it all turned into fun fooling around—the heirs were just messing about, enjoying the holiday and rare moments of carefree time.

Their play was interrupted by Derek's appearance. All three ducklings immediately froze, then rushed to their father with delighted faces.

"So, how's my birthday boy feeling?" the drake said with a soft smile, kneeling on one knee. His calm, velvety voice sent a wave of that sharp, longed-for warmth through Louie that he had missed so much.

"Everything... everything is wonderful!" the duckling exhaled. "It seems nothing can spoil this day!"

Derek laughed quietly and ran his palm over his son's head, gently smoothing his ruffled feathers.

"Yes, I can see that. But I'm almost sure this day will get even a little better when you see my gift."

Louie's eyes lit up with an excited spark. He was eager to find out what his father had prepared. The twins exchanged glances with keen interest—they were wondering the same thing.

The drake gestured for all the children to follow him. The Balcoms moved through the endless, labyrinthine corridors of the headquarters. Once, these passages had seemed absolutely identical to Louie, but after six months on the island, he had managed to learn them. The boy had spent ages traversing the building back and forth, even drawing intricate maps that the twins found an amusing quirk. They had lived on the island their whole lives and could navigate it blindfolded.

Finally, Derek led the children into a spacious, cool room resembling a garage. And right in its center, under a spotlight, stood a motorcycle. It wasn't just a vehicle—it was a work of art. A gleaming body, elegant lines, chrome details. A gasp of admiration escaped all three ducklings simultaneously. Derek smiled and handed Louie a keychain with keys.

"Really? This is for me?" the duckling couldn't believe his eyes.

"Well, of course! Go ahead, start it up, don't be shy!"

With a face lit by the widest smile, Louie quickly approached the vehicle, reverently touching the handlebars.

"Cool! Father, can I get a gift like that too?" Ethan suddenly blurted out, making his sister raise her eyebrows in surprise. Derek laughed kindly again, looking at his younger son.

"Of course. On your next birthday—definitely."

The duckling's face lit up with such delight that Louie and Amanda couldn't hold back happy giggles.

The older one, his hands slightly trembling, inserted the key into the ignition and turned it. The engine responded with a powerful but even roar, and the dashboard lit up with a neon blue light, eliciting another burst of admiration from the children.

"I... I don't know how to drive," Louie suddenly remembered, realizing this fact could ruin the magic of the moment. But the boy's words didn't faze Derek in the least. His smile didn't waver.

"Trifles. Ethan, can you take on the role of instructor for your brother?"

Placing a hand on his younger son's shoulder, the drake looked at him with approval. The latter flushed with pride and importance.

"Naturally! Don't worry, Fred, I'm an ace driver! You could test me right now!"

The Balcoms laughed again at his feigned confidence. The twins approached Louie, eagerly sharing their impressions and touching the shiny parts.

The children were so engrossed they didn't immediately notice Derek checking his watch, apologizing, and saying he had to leave. This wasn't surprising. The ducklings rarely saw their father for long; he was always absorbed in work. But every such moment, every smile and kind word from him warmed them, leaving a feeling of a solid, unshakable support in their souls.

"Wow, look how many buttons there are!" Louie exclaimed with admiration, sitting in the motorcycle seat and running his fingers over the dashboard.

Ethan peeked over and nodded with an air of expertise.

"Well, yeah, it's one of the latest models," the boy made a dramatic pause and added with naive hope, "Let me take it for a spin?"

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Louie replied with feigned sternness, looking at his brother's pouting face.

"Oh, come on! I know how to handle this thing! I'll teach you!"

The birthday boy, of course, believed his brother, but he really wanted to tease him a bit more. Mutual jabs and pranks had become their special language of brotherly love. His intention was interrupted by a familiar, incredibly kind and calm voice coming from the entrance.

"So, how are things, kids?"

The ducklings turned towards the sound simultaneously. A happy young drake stood in the garage doorway, waving cheerfully at them.

"Ayden!" the twins shouted with loud, joyful cries and rushed to their cousin, all three collapsing onto the floor with soft laughter.

Louie, slightly intimidated, stayed back, having gotten off the motorcycle. He awkwardly fidgeted with his fingers, waiting for the emotional storm to subside.

When the children finally released their cousin, he got up, brushed himself off, and approached the older duckling. His eyes shone kindly. He crouched down to be on Louie's level.

"Hey, Fred, heard it's a big day for you today?"

Louie nodded, and a happy grin spread across his beak.

"Yeah," the boy said with genuine feeling. "It really is my best day!"

Ayden chuckled merrily and ruffled his cousin's forelock in a friendly manner. To his own surprise, Louie didn't just not object—he liked it. A pleasant, warming warmth spread through his body, and his smile grew even wider.

"Well, congratulations then! I'll be honest, I'm not entirely sure about your hobbies, but I hope you'll like this gift."

The drake handed his cousin a small but elegant box of dark red velvet. Carefully, almost reverently, Louie took it, opened it, and gasped. Inside lay a brooch of incredible beauty. It was made of gold, inlaid with emeralds and rubies that shimmered and sparkled even in the garage's dim light. His eyes lit up and sparkled with delight at its radiance.

"Thank you!" Louie whispered. "It's... very beautiful!"

"Hmm, hit the mark," Amanda remarked with a smile, watching her brother's reaction. "Fred adores anything shiny and golden!"

Ayden just laughed shortly in response.

"Are you staying with us long?" Ethan butted in immediately, leaning on his cousin's arm with a proprietary air. The drake turned his head to him, and a cheerful, playful smirk played on his face.

"Weeell, I could stick around for a few days... If you don't mind, of course."

There was such an enticing note in Ayden's voice that the children immediately began persuading him to stay, talking over each other.

"It'll be more fun with you here!"

"Yeah! Tell us where you've been all this year!"

"Alright, alright, calm down, curious ducklings!" Ayden rose from his knees, showered with the heirs' attention.

Louie, still feeling a slight awkwardness, nevertheless tried to keep up the conversation. The boy felt an insatiable interest in his cousin. Inside him, a question about his mother was brewing, one he was afraid to ask, as if fearing to hear something that would forever shatter the fragile happiness of this day.

---

After blindfolding their brother with a thick silk scarf, the twins took him by the arms and led him in an unknown direction. Deprived of sight, Louie stumbled repeatedly, holding onto Ethan tightly. Finally, they stopped.

"Well, ready?" Amanda asked in a mysterious whisper right next to the older one's ear. He nodded, inwardly bracing for some kind of joke.

"Great! Then take off the blindfold!"

Louie obediently reached for the ties and pulled the fabric off. Blinking, the duckling saw they were standing in the familiar common living room. But the room was transformed: decorated with garlands and balloons.

"Happy birthday, again!" the twins chorused.

The children's faces shone with such happiness that they seemed to illuminate the entire room. In their hands was a huge tray, and on it—a cake. It wasn't perfect. A bit lopsided, but covered entirely in green icing, on which the twins had drawn a portrait of Louie himself with touching effort. The drawing was messy, angular, but at this sincere attempt, the birthday boy's heart constricted again. Seeing his gaze, Ethan explained proudly.

"We baked it ourselves!"

"Yep! We were going to buy one at first, but those are tasteless! Ours is the real deal, homemade, super sweet!"

"I even burned myself stirring the icing!"his brother added, demonstratively showing a finger wrapped in a band-aid.

"Ethan, let him blow out the candles first!" Amanda interrupted the twin.

The children solemnly brought the tray with the cake, crowned with twelve burning candles, very close to the older one's face.

But Louie didn't move. He stood frozen, looking at this crooked, absurd, and most beautiful creation in the world. His eyes filled with moisture again, and the boy tried to hide it by covering them with his hand.

Not expecting such a reaction at all, Ethan and Amanda grew embarrassed. Their happy smiles were replaced by confusion and guilt.

"Louie?" Amanda called quietly, almost in a whisper. "What... what's wrong? Don't you like it?" A tremble was audible in her voice.

"No, no," Louie squeezed out with difficulty, lowering his hand. "It's... it's beautiful. It's just... I'm not used to blowing out candles alone... We always used to do it together, the three of us..."

Silent understanding and acute, aching pity showed on the twins' faces. They exchanged a glance. A whole conversation passed in that look. Each understood the other without words. The younger ones turned back to their brother, and their eyes were also glistening.

"Do you... do you want us to help?.." Amanda suggested timidly, cautiously touching his hand.

Louie looked at his family in surprise. Their carefree, happy smiles had been replaced by something more serious, more adult and sad.

"Yes..." the duckling whispered, sniffling again and wiping away tears. "I really do."

Louie squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, making the most cherished, simplest, and most difficult wish in the world—for this feeling of home, family, and belonging to stay with him forever.

"On the count of one-two-three!" Ethan commanded.

And all three, taking a deep breath in unison, blew out all twelve flames at once.

Ethan immediately shoved the tray into his stunned brother's hands and grabbed his bracelet. Setting up the camera, he took a picture, trying to capture the moment and somehow dispel the birthday boy's sadness.

"So... are you feeling a bit better now?" Amanda peered into the older one's bright eyes, trying to read the truth in them.

"Yes," Louie nodded, and a calm, sincere smile finally appeared on his face. "Thank you."

The children exchanged light, understanding smiles. Ethan took the tray and carried it to the table.

"So, who gets the first slice of this culinary masterpiece?"

"I just hope we didn't oversalt it!"Amanda exclaimed, letting go of Louie's hand and running over to the table.

The twins started chattering again, joking about their creation and speculating about its taste. Louie wasn't listening to them anymore. He stood with a quiet, serene smile, thinking about everything that had happened. Without these green-eyed rascals, this day would have been one of pain and longing. But his new family, these two boisterous, loving ducklings, had given him a sense of happiness and temporarily chased away all the anxiety. This was his day. His celebration. And he was determined to have fun, casting aside all heavy thoughts, at least until its very end.

The silence in the room was heavy, like a blanket thrown over the laughter and mischief that had left with Louie. The duckling silently climbed down from the bunk bed, his movements slow, devoid of their usual energy. He approached his brother, who was sitting on the edge of his own bed.

"Happy birthday, Dewey."

"Yeah, you too," the triplet replied without enthusiasm, his gaze fixed on the floor. He didn't even look up. Huey understood the reason for this apathy at first glance—his own soul also held a void, aching and familiar, that hurt especially badly today.

"Yeah..." the older one sighed, sinking onto the floor next to him. "It's hard without Louie... It's just not the same."

Dewey slid down helplessly after him, pressing his knees to his chin and wrapping his arms around them. The older brother mirrored him, adopting the same pose.

"I was just thinking..." Dewey's voice wavered. "Maybe he'll come back today? This day... it's special. We've never spent it apart... Never."

Huey looked at the triplet, who had curled into a ball, his face buried in his knees. At this gesture, full of despair, a fresh ache throbbed in the older one's chest. He, too, had secretly nurtured this impossible hope—that the door would swing open, and a smiling Louie would appear on the threshold, and everything would return to how it was. Their birthday had always been a magical day, when the triplets felt an invisible but strongest bond, stronger than ever. All resentments, all petty quarrels dissolved on this day without a trace. This holiday was their personal talisman. Each of them knew it.

A sudden, insistent knock on the door tore the children from their heavy thoughts. Webby appeared in the doorway. Her smile was a bit forced, and her eyes showed worry.

"Hey, guys, happy birthday!" the girl's voice was a little louder than necessary, trying to fill the oppressive silence.

Webby shifted nervously from foot to foot, perfectly aware of the storm of emotions raging in her friends' hearts.

"Thanks..." the triplets muttered almost in unison, their gratitude sounding hollow and colorless. They weren't in the mood for politeness. Webby felt terribly sorry for them. She felt helpless, unable to heal this pain.

"How about... coming downstairs?" the girl suggested, trying to sound cheerful.

The brothers exchanged indifferent glances. Their look said one thing: "What's the point?" Shrugging in resignation to fate, they followed their friend.

Webby led the children to the dining room, where a table, tired of waiting, was laden with treats, and the entire Duck family greeted them with joyful but strained shouts of "Happy Birthday!". Della was the first to rush to them, enveloping both in a warm, tight hug.

"Happy birthday, my boys!" Their mother's voice, so soft and kind, momentarily melted the ice in their hearts, and the ducklings felt a long-forgotten warmth.

As soon as the girl released them, Donald took her place. The uncle pressed his nephews to his chest so hard, as if afraid they would vanish any second. The adults were trying their utmost to surround the triplets with love and care, attempting to compensate for the void left by the third brother, to patch the hole in their small world.

Scrooge brought in a huge, icing-glazed cake crowned with candles, his face full of pride. The flame from them flickered, reflecting in the eyes of those gathered, but not in the eyes of the birthday boys. The brothers stood before the festive pie with stony, expressionless faces. While any other child would be jumping for joy, they seemed like pale shadows of themselves.

"Sorry..." Dewey said quietly, his voice breaking, and his words hung in the tense silence. "It's just... not in the mood..."

The boy turned and silently left the room. Huey, after throwing one last hopeless glance at the cake, wordlessly followed his brother, leaving the family bewildered amidst the garlands and unopened gifts. The Ducks watched them go with boundless sympathy. They understood everything.

"I don't think anything will cheer them up," Webby shared quietly, a note of despair in her voice, turning to the family.

"Don't give up," Scrooge said firmly, and a familiar spark of determination flashed in his eyes. "We'll do everything we can! We won't let this day pass in sorrow!"

The rich duck's words breathed a drop of hope into the girl.

Back in their room, Huey stared into the void again.

"I don't think we acted nicely...just leaving like that."

Sighing, Dewey sat on the bed, leaning against the wall.

"You're right. But I... I really can't handle it right now. Pretending everything's fine. As if... he's here right now..."

A quiet knock on the door again disturbed their solitude. Webby entered the room once more. Her gaze slid over the two sorrowful figures illuminated by the dim light from the window.

"Guys, I know what will help!" the girl declared with forced cheerfulness. "Funso's! A walk, rides, ice cream!"

Dewey snorted, skeptically crossing his arms over his chest.

"Seriously?Webby, that's the last thing I want right now."

The girl's face frowned. Her task, given by Scrooge, was to lure her friends out of the house under any pretext while the adults hastily redo the decorations and prepare a new, quieter, more personal surprise.

"Oh, come on!" she insisted. "It'll be cool! Fresh air, movement! You're not going to sit here staring at the wall all day. It's your birthday!"

Dewey had already opened his beak to object, but to his surprise, Huey unexpectedly raised his head.

"A... why not?" the older brother said quietly. "It's better than moping here anyway."

Dewey snorted distrustfully but, seeing his brother's resolve and Webby's insistent gaze, gave in. Reluctantly, dragging his feet, he trudged after them, leaving behind the room filled with the ghosts of what had once been the happiest day of the year.

---

The air was humid and heavy, the sky covered by a solid blanket of leaden clouds, not a single ray breaking through.

"It's so overcast today..." Huey stated joylessly as the children trudged down the deserted street.

A cold, piercing wind from the bay crept under their clothes, making the ducklings shiver. It carried with it a salty dampness and a premonition of trouble.

Tormented by the oppressive gloom, Dewey pulled a creased photograph from his jacket's inner pocket. It showed their younger brother, tied up and frightened. It seemed the boy never parted with this picture, carrying it close to his heart like a talisman.

"And still I think..." the blue duckling began, but didn't get to finish.

Suddenly, a dark shadow darted from a nearby alley. A scratching paw snatched the photograph from Dewey's relaxed fingers. The frightened child cried out and saw a sleek black cat. It stood a few steps away, clutching the precious rectangle of paper in its teeth. Its emerald eyes with vertical pupils mockingly watched the duckling's reaction, and its long tail swung slowly and smoothly from side to side.

"Hey! Give it back!" Dewey shouted furiously and gave chase.

The surprised Huey and Webby, without a second thought, followed him. The cat, as if taunting, broke into a run, glancing back now and then to make sure they were following. It led the children further and further from the familiar streets, deep into the old park, where the trees formed a dense, inhospitable canopy. The angry Dewey, blinded by the desire to get the memory of his brother back, noticed nothing around him. The breathless Huey and Webby tried in vain to stop him.

Soon the children ran out into a small clearing, hidden from prying eyes. In its center stood an unusual tent, sewn from patches of fabric of all colors of the rainbow, faded by time and weather. The cat darted inside, and the middle triplet, without thinking, followed it.

"Dewey! Stop!" Huey shouted, angry and frightened, but it was too late.

Webby and Huey had no choice but to exchange a wordless panicked glance and rush in after him.

Inside the tent was a different world. The air was thick and warm, filled with the intoxicating aroma of lavender, dried herbs, and wax from dozens of flickering candles placed in whimsical candlesticks. Colorful pillows and rugs were scattered everywhere. In the center stood a low table, cluttered with a Tarot deck, crystal balls, dried flowers, and other mystical paraphernalia. Behind the table sat a tall figure, hidden by a burgundy cloak with a hood. The sight of the stranger made the ducklings freeze on the threshold, but an old, authoritative voice prevented them from moving.

"What unexpected guests in my humble tent!"

"Y-yes, sorry," Dewey stammered. "We... we just came for the picture. Your cat took it..."

The boy fell silent, seeing the very same black cat gracefully jump onto the table and place the photograph in front of its mistress. A hand in a long glove the color of old wine lifted the picture, slowly turning it.

"Excuse me, but could you just give us our thing back?" Huey tried to speak more firmly, though his own hands were treacherously shaking.

"Do you think this is what you truly need?" the fortune-teller's voice sounded significant.

The children hesitated, confused. At that moment, the figure threw back the hood. An elderly woman stood before them. Her face was covered in wrinkles, but calling her ugly was impossible. A strong-willed chin, high cheekbones, and piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through them. They burned with a cold inner light, drawing attention away from her age. She was adorned with numerous crystals: dangling earrings, multi-layered necklaces, bracelets on her wrists—everything sparkled and shimmered in the candlelight.

"We just need the photograph!" Dewey insisted, recovering from the initial shock.

The old woman placed the picture on the table, pressed her palm to it, and closed her eyes. The air in the tent thickened, the candles flickered. And then, from the surface of the photograph, a small shadowy copy of Louie rose like smoke. It had no facial features—only a sinister, unnaturally long smile, carved from emerald light. The shadow moved gracefully and smoothly, mimicking the younger triplet's mannerisms. The brothers watched this ghostly likeness in horror.

"Too heavy a case," the fortune-teller's voice sounded stern. "Your brother is in great danger. Right now he is blind and happy in his blindness, but the boy doesn't even suspect what fate awaits him!"

As soon as the woman uttered these words, thin, almost invisible threads appeared on the shadow Louie's hands and feet. They were held in the fingers of another, larger and more blurred shadowy figure. Two more small shadows materialized nearby—from their silhouettes and hairstyle outlines, the children easily recognized Ethan and Amanda from that very photograph.

"What's wrong with him?!" burst out from Huey. His hands trembled, his voice broke. "What does this mean?!"

"Who are all these shadows?!" Webby cried out, recoiling in horror.

"You'd better see it with your own eyes," the old woman replied impassively and snapped her fingers.

The world before the ducklings swam, spun in a whirlwind of light and shadows. A sharp, searing pain pierced their temples, and they, unable to resist, collapsed unconscious.

---

Dewey was the first to regain consciousness. He sat up, rubbing his temples, which were still throbbing. The room was unfamiliar: spacious, flooded with cold artificial light. Massive cabinets, a luxurious but soulless sofa. On one wall—three identical iron doors.

"Guys? Get up!" he leaned over, shaking Huey and Webby. They came to with quiet groans.

"Where... are we?" the girl whispered, stunned, hastily getting to her feet.

The children's stupor was interrupted by a metallic click. The ducklings turned towards the sound simultaneously and froze. Louie stood before them. He was here. Flesh and blood, real. The younger brother was intently scrolling through holographic messages on his bracelet.

"Louie? Is that you?" Dewey cried out, his voice breaking with hope, and rushed towards him.

But the boy's hand, reaching out to touch his brother's shoulder, passed right through him as if through haze. Louie merely shivered slightly, as if from a draft, and continued reading.

"Wait, what's happening?" Huey repeated, now with despair, seeing the hope on Dewey's face turn to horror.

"It's Louie! Why can't he see us?!" Webby exclaimed in panic.

The children recoiled. The green-eyed one plopped onto the sofa with an irritated sigh, not looking up from the screen.

"Ugh, why are they sending me this?!" the heir grumbled, deleting another message.

"Louie! Please, notice us!" Webby pleaded, trying again to touch his hand.

This time, Louie froze. He looked around in bewilderment, rubbing his palm as if it had suddenly gone numb.

"He... he felt you?" Huey whispered with new hope.

"Probably..."

"Hah, Louie, calm down," the younger brother suddenly said to himself, slapping his own forehead with his palm. "It's just Fred trying to contact you again. Pay no attention!"

"What? Louie, it's us! What Fred?!" Dewey shouted, but his words were helpless.

Their brother was so close that the ducklings could see every feather on his cheeks, every spark in his eyes, but they remained invisible ghosts to him.

Suddenly, Louie pulled a small vial of cloudy, thick liquid from his pocket and drank it in one gulp. The duckling's face contorted in a grimace of pain for a moment, he let out a short cry, clutching his temples, but almost immediately buried himself in his bracelet again, as if nothing had happened.

"What is he doing?" Huey whispered in horror, not expecting an answer.

Louie only looked up when a girl with two perky pigtails entered the room. The Duck triplets grew alert, seeing their half-sister in the flesh.

Noticing her brother, Amanda instantly transformed. Her face lit up with a sly, lively smile. She hopped over and settled next to him, peeking at the projection from his bracelet.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for someone to go to the ball with," Louie grumbled, not looking up from his correspondence. The girl snorted and leaned on his shoulder.

"But that's not what you want."

"Do I have a choice?" a bitter note sounded in the green-eyed one's voice. Amanda just snorted meaningfully in response.

Huey looked at Dewey and Webby, seeing the same confusion raging in them that was storming inside him. He reached out his hand again to touch Louie. His fingers once again passed through his brother's shoulder, but this time the heir clearly and strongly flinched, feeling an icy chill. Amanda immediately noticed his nervous reaction and stood up.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Don't know, really..." Louie looked around uneasily. "I feel like someone's here!"

Huey couldn't hold back a smile. Was there still a connection after all?

"Yes, Louie! We're here!" Webby tried to shout through to him again.

"Maybe it's because of the pendant?" Amanda persisted. Louie looked anxiously into the emptiness before him.

"I don't think so..."

"Can we make him see us?" Webby asked the triplets hopefully. But they could only shrug hopelessly.

"Alright, then let's just accept the fact that you're just weird!" Amanda concluded cheerfully and laughed. Louie rolled his eyes in irritation.

"Where's Ethan?" the duckling abruptly changed the subject.

The question worked. The cheerfulness instantly evaporated from the girl's face, replaced by wariness.

"If we're twins, that doesn't mean I know his whereabouts!"

At such an answer, Louie involuntarily grew embarrassed.

"Okay, okay, I just…"

"He's with Ayden," Amanda suddenly said and laughed again, seeing her brother's confusion.

Watching their light, almost familial chatter, the Ducks felt a sharp, jealous burning in their chests. They felt no kinship with this girl, only cold distrust.

"We have to get him out of here!" Dewey growled and tried to grab Louie's arm again. His fingers helplessly passed through his brother's wrist, and from this futility, his rage boiled over with renewed force.

Suddenly, a signal sounded on Amanda's bracelet. Reading the message, she jumped up sharply.

"Alright, I gotta run. Sorry, we'll talk tonight!"

Waving slowly after his sister, Louie picked up a small mirror from the coffee table and stared intently at his reflection. He smoothed his disheveled forelock, then carefully touched the dark bruises under his eyes with his fingertips, quietly whining in pain.

Torn between pity and powerlessness, the Ducks could only watch. They were tormented by questions: why had that fortune-teller sent them here? What was the danger? What awaited Louie?

Suddenly, the boy put the mirror aside, took an apple from a tray, and headed for the exit door. The ghostly guests, without a second thought, followed him.

Munching on the apple, Louie wandered through the endless, faceless corridors that resembled labyrinths more than hallways. From time to time, stern guards in uniform stopped him, asking for instructions. Louie, clearly irritated, gave short answers, his voice laced with fatigue. He kept looking around, feeling invisible eyes on his back, but, brushing it off, moved on.

Finally, the heir entered another room, more cozy, resembling a study. The Ducks, following on his heels, gazed in amazement at the grim splendor of this place.

"Hi, Em."

The girl sitting at the desk turned, and her face lit up with a warm, sincere smile.

"Hi. Didn't know you were coming today."

"Why not?" Louie smiled slyly.

"Well, it's your… Oh, wait a second!" Emily rummaged in her bag and pulled out a neatly wrapped package. "Here! Happy birthday!"

The boy took the gift, and a bright blush flooded his cheeks. Unwrapping the paper, he pulled out a long, incredibly soft scarf, hand-knitted from yarn in all possible shades of green. On one end, his initial was embroidered intricately with dark thread.

"I… I really like it! Thank you!" Louie smiled. He immediately wrapped the scarf around his neck, and his fingers gently stroked the soft wool. Emily beamed, but then noticed a shadow on her friend's face.

"Is something wrong?"

The girl's voice was so full of sympathy that Louie couldn't hold back.

"It's hard to explain… Today really is the best day. Even the twins are acting pretty normal… But it's not just my day…" the boy fell silent, lowering his eyes.

The triplets' hearts constricted. The ducklings hung on his every word, longing to shout that they were here.

"Do you miss your old family?" Emily asked quietly, squeezing the heir's hand in hers.

And this time, Louie felt not an icy chill, but a living, warming warmth.

"I told you he's hurting without us too!" Huey exclaimed triumphantly and automatically grabbed his younger brother's shoulder.

Louie jerked sharply, clenched his fist, his face clouded. He looked Emily straight in the eyes, and in that gaze was an internal struggle, pain, and resolve.

"No," came quietly but clearly. "I don't."

The words hung in the air like the crack of a whip. Webby gasped, covering her beak with her hand. Huey and Dewey stood, unable to move, their faces frozen in shock and disbelief.

"W-what? Why did he say that?.." Webby whispered, looking at her friends.

Seeing the confusion on Emily's face, Louie gave a bitter smirk. He leaned his hands on the table.

"I'm not sure of anything anymore, but I can't forgive them. The brothers chose Mom. Over me. Before I left… they acted like I didn't exist. So I left. So I wouldn't bother their perfect family."

"Aw, Lou, it's just a family quarrel…" Emily tried to comfort her friend.

"No!" the heir's cry was so full of pain that the ghostly spectators' breath caught. "I'm not like the Ducks! To them, I'll always be a monster, a villain, a mistake! But here… here I'm needed. Here they accept me for who I am! This world is for people like me!"

For the triplets, their world finally collapsed. Their worst fears, their secret guilt, turned out to be true. The tears they had held back for so long streamed from their eyes. The burden of responsibility fell upon them with unbearable weight.

"Louie, please, forgive us!" Dewey shouted, rushing forward. "We didn't mean to! We just… Come back! Just come back!.."

The boy tried to hug his brother one last time, but at that same moment, the floor gave way beneath them. They were swallowed by a black, soundless void, full only of all-consuming horror and a feeling of complete, absolute loss.

---

Consciousness returned to the children abruptly, with the sensation of cold moisture on their cheeks. They were lying on the same clearing. The tent was gone, as if it had never been there. Only the soggy photograph lay in a muddy puddle. Dewey was the first to get up and silently picked it up. Large, heavy raindrops fell from the sky, mixing with the tears on their faces.

"Was that… a dream?" Huey whispered, bewildered, pulling his knees to his chest. He didn't care that his clothes were getting soaked through. "Or… or does he really hate us?"

"But… but he's okay, probably…" Webby tried weakly to find at least a drop of consolation.

While the ducklings were talking, Dewey stood motionless, clutching the ruined picture. He saw nothing around him, a deafening ringing was in his ears, and in his head—the echo of his own words, thrown at Louie once: "If you don't like it, you can just leave!"

"What an idiot I am…" finally escaped the boy, quiet and hopeless.

"What?" Huey raised his eyes to his brother.

"Louie wouldn't have run away…" Dewey's voice broke. "If I… if I had supported him then… just been there…"

The duckling couldn't take it anymore. His legs gave way, and he fell to his knees in the mud, sobbing loudly and wrenchingly. All the guilt, all the despair, all the pain burst out in this terrible, heart-rending cry.

Webby and Huey rushed to the boy, hugging him from both sides, pressing against his trembling back. They sat there, the three of them, in the middle of the rain, in the dank forest—three small, helpless figures, crushed by the burden of their own guilt. The noise of the forest, the howling wind, and the drumming of rain on the leaves drowned out their sobs. The last hope for their brother's return, for forgiveness, was trampled and carried away by the streams of water. And the ducklings knew that they themselves were the only ones to blame for it.