The first thing that North noticed as he woke was crying. The sound was terrifying, hopeless, and darkened his heart. It was a child, or was it more than one? North wasn't sure, but they were in pain and afraid. He forced himself up, each movement a struggle, and he looked around for the child. A shadowy form was crouched in the corner, sobbing. It tugged at North's heart, and he tried to go over to help, but a voice stopped him.

"Don't bother, North."

North turned to see the Man in the Moon, sitting there with a pained expression as he stared at the shadow child. Why wasn't he helping? MiM didn't look at him, but, as usual, he seemed to know exactly what North was thinking.

"It won't help."

"Why not?" North croaked. His throat was parched, and he shivered as the sobbing continued.

"The child is nothing but a wraith, a shadow of a soul," MiM replied. "It is not in this world or the next. It is in between. There is nothing I know of that will help something as wretched as this creature. My knowledge fails me here."

"Is there no way to make it stop crying?" North asked.

"I cannot touch it, and it cannot hear me. I've tried, North. Besides, Obscurus put us in here to torture us."

North's eyes scanned the wraith, tears gleaming in his eyes. "It needs help…"

"Help we cannot give, my friend," MiM said. "I know nobody who is able to reach inside that veil. Come over here. Don't dwell on that poor thing."

The Spirit of Wonder stood on weak legs and walked over to sit beside the small, round Guardian of Childhood. His normally jovial expression was dark as he scanned the form of what used to be a child before looking at his friend.

"Are you well?" MiM asked.

"I am thirsty and hungry," North said.

"Unfortunately, nothing can be done about that either," MiM said solemnly. "Obscurus has offered no food or water, and while we will be uncomfortable, we will not die. So you must get used to the sensations."

North looked around to see Sandy, Toothiana, and Bunnymund lying unconscious, their expressions troubled. MiM continued to watch the child, his eyes bright and troubled. North finally coughed and leaned back against the wall. He folded his hands over his belly, wondering how long it would stay round with no food to satisfy him.

"Who is this Obscurus you talk of?" North asked.

"He's a bad man," MiM answered. "A twisted thing from the Golden Age, and one of the chief reasons it ended. He is the rapist of children, the murderer of men, the destroyer of women. He is darkness incarnate."

"Sounds like an ally of Pitch," North growled.

MiM glanced at him, breathing out hard through his nostrils, but he didn't argue. "I think he is the reason that Pitch is what he is now."

"His ally," North said firmly.

"Little Prism-boy? An ally?" a dark voice said, like something slimy that slithered into the ears. "That is amusing, to say the least."

North paled when he saw the tall, shadowed figure standing in the doorway. He stood up and moved between MiM and their captor. Obscurus's long face broke into a dim smile, bitter and angry to the core. He shook his head, striding into the room and looking around at the prone figures of the Guardians.

"Pathetic, Tsar Lunar," he crooned. "Your father had much better security."

"I had no warning that you were coming, or there would have been more of a fight."

"But you could have been warned," Obscurus said lightly. "Isn't that right, North?"

MiM frowned, glancing for a brief moment at North then back to the tall man. "What do you mean?"

"After I used that Autumn Spirit to wound Jack Frost, Jackie went to Prism. Prism and Jack went to the North Pole and told the other Guardians to warn you that I was coming."

Bewilderment turned to horror, and North swallowed. "Pitch was… was lying!" he exclaimed, but he no longer believed it.

"No, he wasn't," Obscurus purred. "Tsar Lunar's Nightlight did go out. I put him out. And your one chance to warn Tsar Lunar that I was coming you wasted because you don't trust little Prism. It's a really good thing that I've tainted his light so well. He's too afraid to look you in the eyes, Lunanoff, our little Prism-boy."

Obscurus paused, licking his dark lips with a black tongue. "But you were right, Lunanoff. I ruined your friend. I've ruined his whole life on that pathetic planet. Besides you, fool, every spirit on that planet that you've made sees nothing but a monster when they look at Prism. Every one of them would rather strike and kill him than listen to a word he said. Look at your precious Santa Claus. The Spirit of Wonder who sees beauty and magic everywhere cannot see the beauty and magic of Prism because of me. I've veiled the sight of the hopeful," he gestured at Bunnymund, "and I've veiled the sight of the mightiest dreamer left," he pointed at Sandy's limp form then turned to grin at Toothiana, "and to top it off, I've ruined Prism's memories of his childhood with you, Lunanoff. He can't even think of that time without withering up inside. You know why, Lunanoff?"

"Tell me," MiM said calmly, not removing his defiant, bright gaze from the inky pools that threatened to swallow his light.

"Because he's lost everything that he had. He lost his adoptive parents and blames himself for their deaths. And really, it is his fault. I wouldn't have attacked your Moon Clipper if Prism hadn't been aboard. He lost his friend Nightlight because of the promise the boy swore to your parents to keep you safe no matter what. Your Nightlight came out to impede me, but I ended him. And Prism lost his precious innocence to me, and the screams were intoxicating. You should have heard him squeal—"

"That's quite enough," MiM said, crossing his arms, his expression hard.

"And," Obscurus continued, his lips quirking as he scanned the round man. "He lost you. The only shred of hope he had left was to stay with you. But he couldn't do that. What if I found you and forced you to become my plaything? What if he lost control of his darkness and became something despicable? What if you found out that I raped him, and you thought he wasn't good enough to be your friend anymore?" The man laughed, a grating and broken noise. "Oh, shame is so glorious a thing, isn't it? Living, breathing, and it makes men do strange things!"

"You are so confident about yourself," MiM said, pursing his lips.

"I'm not lying, Tsar Lunar."

"I know," MiM replied coolly.

North was frozen, glancing between the two men. Somehow, he had moved to the side, and his big, blue eyes were looking between the two men. They were so different. One delighted in evil, the other selflessly defended the innocent. One glowed with the soft light of the moon that he lived on, the other exuded shadows like they were in his very soul. They were the perfect contrast, and North knew what side he was on. But he couldn't seem to move to stand beside MiM. He was locked in place, waves of slimy darkness sucking at his mind and body. He had never been so terrified in his life. Pitch Black was nothing compared to this being.

At that thought, North howled in pain and pressed both hands to his temples as he was driven to his knees. His vision turned red then a veil of ink flashed in front of his eyes. It dripped down, and in those inky blots, he saw Pitch's outline. When a hand touched him, he gasped and fell back, looking around wildly. MiM stood there, his hand still held out in midair where he had touched North. His gaze was on Obscurus still as he folded his hands together on his lap.

"I knew something was wrong with them," he said softly. "And it only involves Pitch Black. That is the only person that their expressions morph for. Yes, I've seen the shadows in their eyes. I've done so much research on it, and nothing comes up. But if you can put a veil over their eyes, why not mine?"

Obscurus shrugged. "Why bother?" he asked lightly.

"I don't think you can," MiM said. "I think because I knew Pitch when he was Prism that you can't taint my vision with the veil."

"Veil?" North asked hoarsely. "Jack mentioned a veil."

An idea flashed across MiM's face. "Yes, and Jack sees through it," he mused. "That's why Jack doesn't hate Pitch. That's why Jack trusts him."

"How do you know that boy trusts him?" Obscurus asked blandly.

"Because he willingly accompanied Pitch to the North Pole to warn me. Which he didn't. Why not?" The Man in the Moon turned to gaze at North.

"Erm, we drove Pitch away," North said uneasily. "And I think that Jack went after him. He was crying for some reason."

"Of course," MiM said, a small smile playing around his mouth. "You can't veil children, can you?"

"Not until I do that to them," Obscurus said, gesturing at the wraith, who still cried and moaned in pain. "You are very clever, Tsar Lunar. But you still can't figure out how to get out of here."

"No," MiM admitted. "But I have time."

"Time?"

"It's not me you want," MiM said. "You want Pitch Black. And Pitch will come for me. We both know it."

"Why would Pitch come for you?" North asked. "He is…" He paused then shook his head violently as his vision shifted again. "I don't understand why he would come for you. He hates you. When we mentioned that you would speak with him directly, he fled."

MiM sat up and turned toward North, his brown eyes intense. "No, North. He did not flee because he hates me. He fled because, as Obscurus said, he's ashamed of what happened to him and what happened between us. Pitch is my oldest friend, and Obscurus has admitted that Pitch still loves me. He hides in the dark because that is where he feels he belongs."

"But what about the Night Mares?" North asked.

"Ah, those were a pretty invention," Obscurus sighed. "He never would have learned to manipulate dreamsand if his mind hadn't slipped into my grasp again. He's rather fragile, you know. When he dwells on the shadows, he's as good as mine."

MiM frowned. "What I don't understand is why you want him. You've already tainted him. What else can you want him for?"

Obscurus grinned. "I get lonely," he said innocently.

"Liar. You have your reasons to want him, but I don't know what they are." MiM said coldly.

"I have my reasons," Obscurus said, his grin fading. Was it North's imagination, or was there actual unease in the dark eyes as they stared at MiM?

"You will tell me now, or I will figure it out. Your choice."

"Figure it out if you want," Obscurus hissed. He swept his black cloak behind him and stormed to the door. "I don't have time for you, Lunanoff."

"But if I were Prism, you'd have time," MiM said matter-of-factly.

The black eyes glanced back then the door slammed and there was a suctioning sound as it was sealed by magic. MiM clicked his tongue, then turned to North, who was still sitting down and staring at him.

"Are you well?" MiM asked.

"I… I do not understand, MiM," North stammered. "About Pitch. It hurts me to think of him. It always has. But should it be so?"

The Man in the Moon gazed at his friend for a moment then turned his eyes back onto the child-wraith. "No. It shouldn't be so, North. When we get out of here, I'll figure out how to free you from the veil he's shrouded you with. Until then, we must think of what to do."

"What are we going to do?"

"Wait for the others to wake. Then we'll tell them what we know. Then we try to escape. It should be interesting."

North shivered, staring at MiM and wishing for a fire. The light in the room was dim, and it was chilly. Still, he wanted to help, so he tore his eyes away from the Man in the Moon and went to check on his friends. They were all breathing, all alive, and they began to stir as North tried to rouse them. His mind was only half on his task, the other half thinking over all he'd learned and disturbed that he, a Guardian, the Spirit of Wonder, the immortal Santa Claus, could be fooled so easily into hatred, the one emotion he was loath to feel. And North tried to wrap his mind around the fact that he might hate Pitch because of something, no, someone outside of himself. He just couldn't do it, so he began to try and wake Sandy from the nightmares that plagued his friend, ignoring his conscience gnawing at him.