Marlos

"Together"

Under the cloak of night, while Mal slept peacefully beside him, Carlos slipped out of the dorm room. He couldn't explain it, but a primal urge, a yearning for something more, pulled him towards the Isle. He knew he shouldn't go, that he should focus on his studies, on his friends, on his life in Auradon. But the pull was too strong, a siren song calling him back to the place where his journey had begun.

He snuck out of the castle grounds, his heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. As he neared the Isle, the shadows seemed to deepen, the air growing thick with the remnants of the dark magic that still clung to the land. But Carlos pressed on, drawn by an invisible force, a sense of purpose he couldn't quite define.

He reached the crumbling remains of the tower, the scene of his confrontation with Lyeeis. The air here was heavy with the lingering echoes of divine power, a power that still resonated within him. He closed his eyes, feeling the energy pulsating through him, a connection to something greater, something ancient and powerful.

Then, he stepped onto the Isle.

He made his way through the familiar, yet still unsettling, streets of the Isle. The air was thick with the scent of decay and forgotten dreams. Shadows danced in the flickering light of dying embers, and the silence was broken only by the occasional scuttling sound or the distant wail of a forgotten soul. He headed towards the imposing structure of his childhood home, the castle, its dark silhouette looming against the night sky.

As he approached the castle, a wave of conflicting emotions washed over him. Memories, both good and bad, flooded his mind: the cold, harsh discipline of his father, the fleeting moments of warmth and connection with his mother, the desperate camaraderie he shared with Mal, Evie, and Jay. He hesitated for a moment, the weight of his past threatening to pull him back into the darkness. But the pull, the mysterious force that had drawn him here, urged him onward.

He pushed open the heavy, rusted gates, the sound echoing through the silent courtyard. The castle loomed before him, a monument to a past he both longed to escape and felt compelled to confront. He stepped inside, the darkness swallowing him whole.

He navigated the dimly lit corridors, his footsteps echoing in the oppressive silence. Dust lay thick on cobwebs, and the air was stale and heavy. As he wandered deeper into the castle, he passed a series of rooms, each filled with remnants of the past: tarnished armor, faded tapestries, and glass cases displaying the forgotten treasures of the Isle's former inhabitants.

However, as he continued down the hallway, he stumbled upon an unexpected discovery. Hidden behind a dusty curtain, he found a small, ornate chest. Intrigued, he carefully opened it. Inside, nestled amongst faded velvet lining, lay a rolled-up scroll. As he unfurled it, his breath caught in his throat. The scroll was covered in intricate symbols and faded ink, detailing a list of kingdoms, each marked with a sinister symbol. At the bottom of the scroll, in his father's distinctive handwriting, was a single chilling sentence: "Targets for acquisition."

The blood ran cold in Carlos's veins. His father, the man he had always feared and despised, had not been content with ruling the Isle. He had planned to conquer other kingdoms, to spread his darkness across the realm. Carlos felt a wave of nausea wash over him. His father, the man he had faced and defeated, was far more dangerous than he had ever imagined.

Carlos's fingers trembled as he traced the list of doomed kingdoms on the ancient scroll. His father's ambition, even in defeat, sent a chill down his spine. The weight of this new knowledge pressed heavily upon him.

"Quite the bedtime reading, isn't it, kid?"

Carlos whirled around, his heart leaping into his throat. Standing in the shadowed doorway, leaning against the frame with an air of sardonic amusement, was Hades. The Lord of the Underworld's blue flames flickered around his wild hair, casting an eerie glow on the dusty corridor. He held his ember-tipped staff loosely in one hand, his gaze sharp and knowing.