They were winning the fight despite their numbers. The robotic soldiers were hardly threats and could be taken down by tens with just one warrior. The armors and weapons the Tweedles made were what changed the odds of their victory.

One warrior, armored with adamantium breastplate, was already immune to piercing lances and could combat with his gauntleted knuckles. Electric blasts deemed no effect as the Tweedles anticipated such and covered the interiors of the armors with thick leather. Another warrior, armed with a bow, had a quiver that heated adamantium arrows. One shot could pass through three soldiers at least. And many more had unique weapons that fit their skill.

Baeley was at the front line, by now, in the middle of clashing warriors and enemy soldiers. He used the small pistol-like weapon his father parted with him, fighting for vengeance. He was alone now without a family—his brothers and sisters, dead; his mother and father, dead. He never thought that he would be fighting on the same battlefield where he lost most of his loved ones. Now he’s the only one left.

Everywhere around, every warrior could see victory as they overwhelm the robots. Baeley could feel their thirst for vengeance get quenched for every enemy unit they destroy. It was in the atmosphere, fighting the woe that enveloped them from the many deaths around Wonderland.

Lightning flashed long, blinding most of them including the focused bloodhound. Baeley felt a spear poke him but failed to penetrate due to his armor. He turned to the enemy soldier and shot it with one projectile. No sooner after that, lightning flashed once more. It couldn’t be just lightning, Baeley thought. It didn’t seem natural.

Heavy flaps resonated in the sky and were followed by a harsh screech. The Jabberwocky hovered midair. The warriors all paused to look except some whose battles were too dire to neglect.

One warrior shot the Jabberwocky with a heated arrow—the shape of the projectile most apparent in the distance with its orangey red color lining the air. It hit the Jabberwocky somewhere around the shoulder region, sinking half of its whole length through the dragon’s flesh but hardly enough to make any critical damage. Instead, it provoked the fierce dragon.

The Jabberwocky rose above the clouds, angling to dive for the warriors. It descends rapidly and swipes one warrior with its claw, crushing him as it flew. The second time it swooped down, it spat out lightning, overwhelming soldiers and warriors alike, turning flesh into ashes.

The warriors began panicking as their numbers began decreasing. None of them were really harmed by the robots until the Jabberwocky joined the fray. One swing of the beast killed fives of warriors.

Baeley commanded the warriors to spread out—occupy more area away from allies to lessen the kills. When the Jabberwocky breathed lightning once again, more warriors evaded and fewer died.

“C’mon, Mallymkun…” Baeley looked over his shoulder to the burning dome of the factory. The frames of the building collapsed, destroying the structure completely. Baeley swallowed and hoped they could come up with a way to destroy the Jabberwocky themselves.

The dragon was above Baeley, angling once again to sweep the ground. Baeley could tell that the Jabberwocky targeted him. He readied himself for an evasion and an attack afterwards. The ghastly beast hid above the clouds as it always does before coming down in a rapid pace, claws extended taut.

Baeley began shooting the beast but his projectiles couldn’t even change the course of the Jabberwocky.

Distant firing sounded and then Baeley saw luminescent bullets hit the dragon. He was splashed by red liquid—raining from the Jabberwocky’s flesh. The wounded dragon pulled back and hid above the clouds once more.

“Are you alright, Baeley?” Mallymkun sounded like he was in Baeley’s ear.

“Mallymkun?” Baeley asked, “How is it that I can hear you?”

The dormouse chuckled, “Radio, my friend. The Tweedles installed it in your armors so that we could communicate.”

“How convenient…” Baeley chuckled.

“Pay attention to your surroundings first, puppy, or you’ll wind up like your father.” Different voice but familiar.

“Don’t mind Rocket, Baeley,” Mallymkun apologized, “He’s just concerned about you.”

“Enough of that,” Rocket said, “Let’s hunt that Jabbingwicky.”

Hope surged through Baeley again as he felt the odds turn with them once more. A drop of rain touched Baeley’s nose, enticing the bloodhound to look at the violet sky. It began raining.

***

Droplets of rain hit Rocket’s windshield. The raccoon muttered a curse as he wasn’t used to fighting airborne with distractions. Rain wasn’t so common in outer space. It wasn’t big enough, like asteroids or fast enough like bullets, to be evaded. Raindrops were small and could create liquid curtains with the clouds.

“Crap…” Rocket muttered to which the dormouse responded at immediately.

“Is there a problem with your ship, Rocket?” Mallymkun asked.

“The weather’s the problem,” Rocket peered for the Jabberwocky. “I’m not used to weather is all.”

Something came into view but it wasn’t the Jabberwocky. It was too small to be the dragon and then too big to be something else Rocket was familiar of. It was just a red dot in the distance but in the span of passing seconds, the dot was actually two red glowing eyes now forming a shape of another beast.

Rocket realized that it could be one of Alice’s inventions again. He dived down to evade the beast and checked his radar for any foreign objects within range.

“Guys, there’s another thing in the sky—birdlike,” Rocket spoke through his radio.

“Birdlike?” Mallymkun asked.

Rocket checked his radar again and the machine was out of his range.

“I see it,” Tweedle Dum said.

“Brother, I see it as well,” Tweedle Dee followed, “It’s the Jubjub bird.”

Rocket turned his ship around and assumed the direction of the Jubjub bird. “Is that thing robotic or made of flesh?”

“Robotic,” Mallymkun answered.

The Tweedles were quiet for a long time before one of them—Tweedle Dum—spoke again. “The thing is made of adamantium steel and these ships don’t have anything that could penetrate it.”

Tweedle Dee followed, “Rocket, Mally, you handle the Jabberwocky. My brother and I will take care of the bird.”

“How?” Mallymkun asked.

“We’ll think of something… we always have,” Tweedle Dum replied.

Rocket, once more, turned his ship around and flew above the clouds where there was less rain. Mallymkun’s ship came beside Rocket’s and both of them saw the Jabberwocky breathing lightning on the clouds.

“You ready, little guy?

“Right behind you.”

***

James limped deeper into the forest, dragging Iracebeth with him. He left a trail of blood that marked his path and he was thankful that it began raining. Perhaps, just perhaps, the planet was on their side, helping in any way it can and it helped aplenty. They were already deep into the woods when James’s hand began twitching. He began chortling, itching to toss anything he could touch.

Not now, he said to himself. His mind was clouded by teatime and teacups. He was late for tea.

James shook his head violently. He placed Iracebeth to lie by the trunk of a tree and he limped towards another, banging his head against its trunk.

“Not… now…” he gritted his teeth and then he was chuckling. “Ey, y’late for tea!” he looked at the unconscious red queen. “’Ell, don’t just lie there!” he shouted, “Look for teacups in y’mid. Hop along now, lass… heh…heh…heh…”

The tone of James’s laughter fell and he sat back against the trunk of the tree across Iracebeth. “I’m…sorry…Irac—m-my queen… heh-heh-heh…be a merciful monarch and don’t take ma’ head.”

James’s vision began to blur from all the blood he lost. For a moment, he forgot that he was wounded. He tried getting up with little strength he had left. He kept in mind that Mirana died so they could get away. He shouldn’t let her death be in vain.

James’s leg quivered and he fell back down kneeling. He pushed his back against the trunk and got up once more, maintaining his balance. He limped towards Iracebeth but just after one step, he almost stumbled had it not been for someone to catch him on the back.

It happened fast—so fast as if whoever caught him just materialized before the ground to catch him. James’s vision was blurry so he couldn’t make up his savior other than his color. “B-blue?” James smiled. He couldn’t mistake that color for somebody else’s.

“Is this James I’m talking to or Thackery?” Cheshire chuckled. He carried James on his back as he floated towards Iracebeth’s direction.

James groaned. “One of the other,” he answered jokingly.

Tarrant followed shortly behind, arriving at a scene where there were almost two unconscious people. “What happened here?” he asked.

Cheshire placed James beside Iracebeth and shrugged to answer Tarrant.

“We thought we could beat her…” James said weakly but the contempt was still apparent from the way he talked. “She hides away in armor invulnerable to blasts and physical attacks as far as we know.”

“Where’s the white queen?” Cheshire asked.

James swallowed, nodding his head slowly left and right, his eyes closing. “She sacrificed herself so we could escape…”

Both Cheshire and Tarrant were shocked but instead of wearing grief, they wore vengeance.

“She didn’t suffer at the least, did she?” Cheshire landed on the ground and knelt to examine James’s wounds.

“It was quick…” James answered.

“Good…” Cheshire said. He ran his claw on James’s wound and without even warning the hare, he swiped the bullet out with one quick swing. James groaned in pain as blood poured out of his flesh.

Quickly after getting the bullet out, Cheshire pressed his hand on James’s wound and crimson smoke began emanating from the area. The bleeding stopped in seconds and the wound closed up, leaving not even a scar to prove its existence.

James chortled, feeling better. “Since when did you learn how to do that?”

Cheshire was quiet before he answered. “I was shocked myself too,” he said. “It’s the first time I did that no thanks to Tarrant.”

They both looked at the idle Hatter across them.

“He wanted to stab me with his claws and then heal me,” Tarrant said. “After,” he raised his voice to prevent Cheshire from talking, “I let him scratch my arm to test his healing.”

“I told you,” Cheshire protested, “What if it doesn’t work on deep wounds?”

“Well it just did,” Tarrant lifted his shoulders up.

Cheshire repeated the same procedure on James’s leg—swiping the bullet with his sharp claws and healing the wound with his new asset afterwards.

Iracebeth woke up not long after witnessing the Cheshire cat beside her. “Cheshire?” the red queen groaned.

Cheshire helped her sit straight.

“You’re alive?” she asked and then massaged her head. “Oh wait… Alice beat me so I guess I’m dead.” Shortly after, she noticed Tarrant standing across her and James beside her. “How did the war go? Why are we all dead? Did Alice win?”

Cheshire hushed her. “We’re still alive and the war is still going on,” he said. “Your sister…” Cheshire failed to continue and Iracebeth needn’t hear the rest of it to know what Cheshire was about to say.

“When this war is over, I will take Alice’s head myself,” she muttered and got up.

James followed, feeling much stronger than before and somehow, there was no war inside his mind about who gets to take over. For the first time in a very long time, he could think of tea without having hysteria take over him.

“We’re all ready for war,” Tarrant said, “But does anybody know where the main battle is happening?”

They all look at each other.

“The warriors never came back to the Clockwork town,” Iracebeth said. “They could only be at that place Mirana took from Alice.”

“Do you know the way?” Cheshire asked.

“I think I do.”