Meanwhile in Santa's Workshop...

"THEY'RE GONE?!" North slammed his palm on his study table, toppling his toys down to the floor. The loud bang echoes through the workshop, shaking objects on shelves.

Sandy and Cupid grimaced, sharing a nervous look. Never had they ever see North as strict like this. His face was as red as a ripe cherry, and if you could imagine, his face would look appropriate enough when hot steam burst from his ears.

The door of the study room opened before Bunnymund, Tooth and Breeze walk in. Their faces were plastered with confusion, demanding for an explanation. North muttered a set of words in frustration as he rearranged the toys that fell from his table.

Bunny gave everyone in the room a sharp glance before realizing that 3 boys were not included in the equation. Feeling both smug and guilty, Cupid approached Breeze naturally, wrapping her arms around Breeze's shoulder in fake comforting.

"Who's gone?" Breeze asked, giving Cupid a pair of puppy eyes.

"The boys. Jack, Aqua and... Ben." North threw his hands in the air, glaring at the empty couch as if the three of them were there.

"What? To where?!" She cupped her hands on her mouth as tears rolled down her cheeks. Sadness flashed on her now-dark gold eyes. She has mad skills, Cupid thought. A magnificent actress.

"Somewhere we don't know." Tooth said sharply, her tooth fairies buzzing with anger behind her wings. Bunny shot a suspicious glance at both Breeze and Cupid, as the thought -- that the two of them might be behind the disappearance of the boys -- raced across his mind.

But he cleared the thought off as he saw the heartbroken-looking Breeze, who was leaning on Cupid for support as she cried her tears out.

"I want them home," Breeze sobbed, crying harder.

Yep. Not their plan, Bunnymund thought.

Ben's POV

"One thousand and twenty seven Mississippi, one thousand and twenty eight Mississippi, one thousand and twenty nine Mississippi..." I muttered as I made my way to a complete nowhere, surrounded with nothing but pure dirt.

It had been three hours, I think, hearing nothing but the crunching sound as my boots hit the rough dirt. The farther my steps are, the higher the dirt walls on the side of the trail. Now I'm in a dirt lane, with dirt walls on the sides and, luckily, my dirt powers.

Oh why haven't I brought my iPod? If I had, I could listen to electro pop songs. Or perhaps some opera and orchestra? I just want my iPod here with me. In my hands. With a pair of headphones plugged to my ear. And music blasting from the headphone speakers. And, a very musical Ben Stone dancing and singing along this lane.

But no.

"There will not be a dancing and singing Ben Stone during the journey, so you better not bring your music utensils." Cupid said to me. Imagine how shell-shocked I was that time. Utensils, she said. Utensils!

I keep slipping my hands into my leather sling bag, hoping that I had forgotten the fact that I had sneaked my iPod and headphones with me. But I didn't forget -- I really did not have my iPod and headphones here with me. Sad, sad life.

I kept walking forwards lazily, for who knows how long. Keeping my sight to the dull ground repeatedly. I started to grow irritated -- bored, actually. The dirt lane turned into a narrow tunnel that got a tad bit darker.

But crap. I don't have torchlights and shit.

I searched into my bag and luckily, I fished out a box of classic matches. I didn't remember putting these in my inventory, so it has Breeze all over. Thanks, I thought blindly. I picked a matchstick and lighted it up with a 'schhp'. The tunnel was dimly lit, but it was enough for me to see my way.

So I continued walking. After a few steps, someone turned off the lights. My matchstick died so I had to light up another. When I started walking again, it went out again. This happened continuously until I had 2 remaining matches left. Screw it.

"If you blew off my matchstick, please don't do it again. I'll go karate on you." I muttered in annoyance, taking another matchstick in my fingers. My heart grew nervous as I left the last stick behind. Its my hope.

As soon as I lit the fire up, a face appeared right in front of my very eyes, smiling at me creepily with its red eyes into slits. Surprised and terrified, I screamed -- in a manly manner -- and threw the fire away to get rid of the deathly image.

"Jeff the Killer?" I said shakily and broke off into a sprint, and hit something with my shoulder as I burst off. I held my bag to my chest, adrenaline rushing in blood as the terrifying face replayed in my mind, chasing me.

My next step had me flying. There was no ground, and when I did hit the ground, my ankle twisted, leaving me shouting a cry of pain. I curled myself into a ball as I felt my body roll down a descending slope.

The hard stone that poked out from the ground multiplied the pain that I already felt. The strap of my bag tangled itself around my neck, choking me slightly. To lessen the fright and pain, I went to my happy place where decent images are shown.

But every time, each image would be contaminated with a black ink that spreads throughout the whole image. When the black ink covered every facet of the image, a familiar face appeared.

Pitch Black.

The ruthless and smug grin that plastered his long face was the closure of my tumbling. I hit the uneven ground on my back, hearing a crack of a broken bone that belonged to myself.

Shaking, in pain and breathless, the only movement I could do at the moment was scraping the dirt with my fingers.

Have you ever felt so weak that all you could do is force a quiet squeak out of your lungs, but only with that measly strength, you came out breathless -- already.

Trust me, that's how I felt.

Forcing my eyes to open, my voice would function and my lungs would calm is like pushing a boulder as big as a Chevy truck off my body, using my legs.

You feel me?

No. Did I fail? I just got here. This probably is a dream. A nightmare. No.

What do I do if this isn't a dream? Stay here and rot forever? Rot like other unlucky souls that came here once long ago? This journey just screamed trouble at me since the very beginning.

Why did I agree though? Jack and Aqua could go on by themselves.

No.

I was worrying about how I would get out of this hellhole, worrying too much until I fell unconscious with the pain and agitation right on top of me.

Breeze's POV

"Shouldn't have been too monster-like when it comes to cookies." Jade said, curling inside her thick blanket like a cannonball.

I laughed, shaking my head.

"Its not your fault. I bet those cookies looked innocent to you."

Her cracked lips tugged at the sides to form a smile. Tightening the blanket around her body, she sighed.

"I'm such a pain in the arse. This is the second time, Breeze. Last time I hibernated during a big fight. What a waste." She scoffed.

I'm quite familiar, she likes a good fight. She has a good point, too. Ever since she hung out with the Guardians, she's prone to sickness. And trouble.

"I'm under a curse," she muttered.

"No way though. You have this anti-curse thingy that you got from the Dunbroch family. Every single Dunbroch isn't prone to curses. They're too respected and powerful." I reminded her and she instantly replied with a scoff.

"The Dunbroch royal kingdom wouldn't be rising if there were no nobles like the O'Brien's." She pointed out.

"Oh please. The only true noble in our family is my father and Aiden. And Aiden still couldn't shoot an arrow accurately."

"Its because he didn't have proper training. Why would he learn from Raoul anyway? All I know is, when Raoul and Aiden are together, they'd ditch trainings and go hunting." She smiled smugly, recalling the memories from our child lives.

"Your brother Raoul, never cease to scare me with his archery skills." I paused. "Just like you!" I pointed an accusing finger at her.

"I only had Aurabella to keep me girlish. You don't visit me often, you know. I spend most of my times with Raoul, too. That's why."

"Enough of my brother and yours. You do know that they always spill jam on my gown." I hissed as if it happened right at this moment. Jade laughed.

"If I were you, I wouldn't mind. At least I have an excuse to get out of my gown quicker." She stuck her tongue out at me.

"You were just like Raoul and Aiden. Boyish. No wonder you finished archery training so quickly than Raoul had in 16 years."

"I was close to Raoul. He was my best friend. He would always hear me out, and we'd complain together about training and errands. He would still hear me if I talked about how tight my corset is. I'm glad I saved him. He loved adventures, you know." She sniffed.

"I stayed human a little longer than you did. You didn't see how wrecked the Dunbrochs were. They were so dishonoured. The next day, your family couldn't give orders. They were grieving on you."

"I saw."

"Don't you miss them?" Bonus question.

"Silly. Of course I do. I was heartbroken when Man in Moon said that they couldn't see me. I've been monitoring on them for generations." She said.

"Well, we're well preserved, aren't we?" I laughed.

"Exactly," she looked up. "And I hope the boys are doing fine so that we'd all be well preserved."

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