(And here, after all this time, is the very last set...)

"As Long As You're Mine", Wicked Cast Album

With a heavy sigh, Xun Chao paused to set aside his brush so that he could press his wings to the small of his back, which ached from the many long hours he had spent bent over his desk, hard at work. But he could not help it, his feverish determination knew no bounds and drove him on with eager, excited obsession. He was close, so very close! Glancing again at the aged scroll he had found within the palace library, he peered at the hanzi characters formed in Oogway's precise handwriting which he had been copying, struggling with the fierce grin that tried to form upon his beak. Yes. Yes! At last I have discovered the key. If my interpretation is aright...if the secret thus unveiled before my sight bears veracity...then my Work will soon be complete, and my destiny fulfilled...

A sudden motion from his chamber doorway, the rustle of soft, downy feathers and the shifting of silken fabric, nearly made him slip from his stool. Flinching slightly, he looked up and felt his heart in his fluttering throat, even as he frowned. "Xiwang?"

She stood watching him, her posture as perfect, poised, and formal as one of her elite station should be, her body clad in the rich, many-layered garments appropriate to both her class and the Jade Palace—a shanqun of deep crimson and emerald with an attached bixi, both it and the long, flowing skirt that extended several feet behind her adorned with embroidered flowers and woven ribbons, all of it matched by the diaphanous scarves around her neck and the complex, bejeweled ornaments of gold which drew her headfeathers up into her elaborately coiled hair. The only thing which marred this enchanting image was the pinched, pained expression upon the fair young girl's face...in whose eyes there were tears, which sparkled in the light that shone out from the flickering lamp that was his only illumination.

"I matter little," she said, softly. "To you, very little. I see that now, at last. Another aim has displaced me; and if it can cheer and comfort you in time to come, as I would have tried to do, I have no just cause to grieve."

"And what is it that you believe has displaced you?" Chao rejoined—his voice as calm as he could muster at this interruption, at the twinge of doubt and distress he felt, even as he could not completely dispel a certain sardonic testiness.

"Passion," she replied instantly, without hesitation. "A zeal of pride. And above all, power."

"This is the even-handed dealing of the world!" the falcon snapped, his voice rising with irritation deepening into towering resentment. "There is nothing on which it is so hard as suffering; and there is nothing it professes to condemn with such severity as the pursuit of the power that could alleviate it!" He could not stop his beak from clamping, his body from trembling within his robes.

"You dismiss the world too readily," the nightingale answered, gently, as if he had spoken with only mild disdain. She approached him slowly as she spoke. "All your other hopes have merged into the hope of being beyond the chance of its sordid reproach, as if such judgments and denigration matter more to you than what is in the silence of your own heart. The goal is good, the dream is beautiful...but I have seen your nobler aspirations fall off one by one, until the master-passion, Power, engrosses you. Have I not?"

"What then?" Chao retorted. He would not hear her words, parse their implications; he refused to. As always, like all others in this weak and fettered world, she was too blind to see what glories he would bring to the empire. "Even if I have grown so much stronger and greater, what then? I am not changed towards you." Surely that was still so.

To his consternation, she shook her head.

"Am I?"

"Our contract is an old one," Xiwang stated, unable to meet his dark eyes. "It was made when we were both simple and honest, and content to be so, until, in good season, with Master Oogway's guidance, we could improve our position and our ability to aid others by our patient industry. Yet now, you are changed. When it was made, you were another man."

"I was a boy," Chao said impatiently.

Now it was her turn to press her beak together. "Your own feeling tells you that you were not what you now are," she returned, a broken catch in her voice. "Yet I still am. You are gone, while I remain. That which promised happiness when we were one in heart...is fraught with misery now that we are two. How often and how keenly I have thought of this, I will not say. It is enough that I have thought of it, and can release you."

"Have I ever sought release?" Something he could not describe...something that blended fiery agony with a knot of cold emptiness...chilled his heart, settled deep in his stomach.

"In words? No. Of course not."

"In what, then?"

"In a changed nature; in an altered spirit; in another atmosphere of choice and chance; another desire as its great end. In short, in everything that made my love of any worth or value in your sight! If this had never been between us," his beloved continued before he could offer opposition, and now she could look with challenging steadiness upon him; "tell me, would you seek me out and try to win me now? Ah, no!"

Although he wished to deny it with all of his being, to tell her truly that her insight had played her false...in spite of himself, he began to yield to the justice of this supposition. But he was not yet prepared to surrender. "You think not?"

"I would gladly think otherwise if I could," she answered sadly, "Ti'en knows I would! But when I have learned a Truth such as this, in place of the Truth I believed lay between us, I know how strong and irresistible it must be. If you were free today, tomorrow, yesterday, can even I believe that you would choose the weakness of love—you who, in your very confidence, weigh everything by what power it could bring you, how it could aid you in your grand design? Or supposing that you did choose me, if for a moment you abandoned your one guiding principle to do so, could convince me...and yourself...that this was your life's ambition. Do I not know that your repentance and regret would surely follow? That you would ever after resent me for the calling you thought I had kept you from achieving, until that resentment became anger, and at the last, hatred?"

Her chest heaved with the force of her emotions, the golden and saffron feathers which quivered above her cross-collar standing in contrast to the pale cream and chartreuse which covered the rest of her frame. "Besides, I know what it is you seek, and I would believe it to be wisdom, were it not for the warning in my soul. The price is yet unknown, one which may be nigh impossible to pay...an exchange that is neither fair nor worthwhile. And I mislike this passion which has taken root in you, I fear where the shadow of the tree which grows from it will fall—across the empire, and yourself. No; so I do release you. With a full heart, for the love of him you once were."

Chao was about to speak, although he knew not what he could have said to gainsay her—if anything could sway her mind, if he could dismiss any longer the honesty and truth in her reasoning; but gathering her wings about her, as if to ward away an undetectable frigidity to the air, Niao Xiwang turned her head from him...the cosmetics upon her cheeks now smudged by the tears which brimmed heavily from her eyes and trickled through her feathers. Slowly, with dignity and poise, the delicate avian who yet displayed such restraint and strength in her spine walked back to the doorway. There she paused and regarded him over her shoulder one final time.

"It may be—the memory of what is past half makes me hope beyond all reason that it is so—that you will have pain in this. Although I carry an equally intense fear that this shall be for but a very brief time, after which you will dismiss the recollection of it, gladly, as an unprofitable dream, from which it happened well that you awoke. Farewell, Xun Chao—or whoever you are now, whoever you become. May you find what it is you cherish, and wish to bring to the world. May you be happy in the life you have chosen...may it be a life at all!" And so saying, she fled down the hall in silence, save for one last sob.

For a very long time, the falcon stared at the darkened opening where she had vanished, one smoky-gray wing raised as he longed to summon her back, although he knew she would not come and there was nothing he could say. Then...gradually, he felt the pain burning in his breast fade away, quenched and dissipated by the coldness that grew to fill him utterly. Eyes flashing—and though he did not know it, beginning to burn with a sooty glow—he wrenched his gaze back down to his desktop, fetching up his brush once more and dipping it deftly, brusquely, in the ink. So. This is how it shall be. She, too, will leave me? Very well. As I have always known, as it was always meant to be, I am alone in my endeavor. Truth? None understand, or ever will. It is quite beyond them, and if this is but one more sacrifice I must make...I do not need them. They render me weak. And my Work must be brought to fruition. One day perhaps, when I am at my pinnacle, when all I have foreseen has come to pass, and the empire has achieved true peace at last, then she will see, then she will be mine once more. Otherwise...it matters not. It matters not.

Slowly, the room fell into silence again, with only the shifting of his robes and the sound of the brush upon the paper to disturb the pregnant stillness.

"The Parting Glass", Loreena McKennitt

"Do you have any idea what you have done?"

Zhu You Chen, Son of Heaven, Lord of Ten Thousand Years, Emperor of all China, looked up from the richly carved and beautifully polished desk behind which he sat, here in his private study in the Imperial Palace, in the Forbidden City...and sighed heavily, struggling harder than in recent memory to keep from letting his shoulders slump, his stern and determined expression from displaying the true anguish, frustration, and pain he felt. At what had occurred, what the man before him had done, what he would now be forced to do.

General Huizhong Hao, an Amur tiger like himself (and in fact his family and Chen's were related, albeit distantly), stood at full rapt attention, heels together, paws clasped behind his back, for all the world as if he were overseeing his troops on the battlefield or a parade ground. He did not wear his helmet but was otherwise still clad in the armor he had worn during his final battle with the Manchurians—the one that had been an utter rout, had driven the rebellious and recalcitrant natives back from the land they had tried to conquer, to nibble from the edges of the empire while they believed those in Beijing were complacent and distracted by other matters farther south and west. The armor, he could tell, was battered, still coated with dust and dirt, scratched and marred by the strikes of numerous weapons, and there were even still patches of blood drying on the steel. Clearly, the other feline had not been a mere observer hiding in a tent to oversee the proceedings, but had been right there in the thick of battle with his men.

But then, his bravery had never been questioned, was not the issue that brought him here.

"I believe, Your Majesty," he rumbled at last, breaking the long, uncomfortable silence between them, "that what I have done is ended the war decisively and completely. Driven the Manchurians back, convinced them to either rejoin the Ming or leave us in peace. Protected our people and saved the empire. Again. As I have done countless times before, and always shall, as many times as are necessary." His grizzled chin lifted proudly, even imperiously.

Utter truth, every word of it...and yet. And yet. "I was referring to something else, Hao." He stressed the man's given name firmly, meaningfully; on the one paw, it indicated the friendship and closeness there had always been between them, ever since he assumed the throne and was almost at once embroiled in battles to preserve China; on the other paw, it emphasized the decided absence of a title or rank. Both an appeal to sanity, reason, and compassion, and a subtle indication of his displeasure. "To the matter of Lieutenant-General Bao."

One eyebrow lifted; whether it was surprise, puzzlement, or even sardonic amusement which showed on his face could not be discerned, but when he spoke again it was with a clear irritation, even resentment at being questioned on this. "I fail to see why one traitorous deserter, no matter how useful he had been to me as a commander and strategist, and how disappointed I am by his choices, merits discussion. It is a private disciplinary action, already dealt with. Should we not be focused on restoring peace and stability in Manchuria, now that we have won? Before you called me back from the front, several local leaders were already prepared to meet with me for—"

"Truly?" Chen cut him off, unable to keep the coldness from his tone. "You see nothing amiss, no cause for concern?" He clenched his jaw and struggled with himself, just barely keeping a growl from escaping his tightened throat. It is not his choices I am disappointed with—at least not the ones you held him accountable for. And this most certainly is not a private matter.

Hao was confident to the point of arrogance, but even he could not fail to catch his ruler's tone; Chen had never spoken to him in such a manner. Very slowly, the other tiger swallowed, his expression shifting to one of neutral blankness. "Well, I admit it is a bit...unusual. Not something I have encountered before. But surely you can see why—"

"Yes. Yes I can. And it because of this that I am stepping in to address it personally. Because I do not like what it says about you...something I could never have believed lay in your heart." Or had it been there all along, and he had simply failed to see it...had not wished to, because the man was so loyal, so otherwise honorable, such a valuable key to his military might?

"Bìxià?" The general sounded worried now. Offended too, and certainly upset, but at more than this questioning of his character. "Forgive me, I do not understand—"

"No, you clearly don't. And that is precisely the problem." Again Chen sighed, and this time he did sit back in his chair, allowing his features to become as downcast and mournful as his heart. "I know the war has been long, that you have been out constantly in the field, that there have been numerous times when you had to make critical decisions swiftly and without consultation. That you have been under great stress, and yet managed to pull off one amazing victory after another. But surely you have not forgotten what I asked of you when the campaign began—what I implored of you and the consuls who conscripted men for the army. What I expressly ordered."

Hao went if possible even more still. "No, of course I didn't. But what has that to do with—"

Sitting forward, Chen slammed his paws down hard on the surface of the desk. Any other man would have leapt back, jumped, or at least flinched. The military man had too much nerve and willpower for that...but his eyes did widen, and stayed that way. "Everything. I don't care whether you believed his story to be false—and I know for a fact it was not, I have here the letter from Jiangxi, sent to me by courier from one Lan Duo, and corroborated by another sent by Chan Lei." Now Hao did flinch; he had obviously not expected there to be conflicting evidence to his impassive, dry report.

"And while I obviously appreciate how critical you believed this man to be to the war effort—nor do I dispute it—" Other reports from the north had painted quite the different karst landscape, revealed what a genius tactician and charismatic leader this panda was. "—that does not justify denying him the chance to take care of his family. To see to it that they were protected, moved to safety, given every care to support and heal them, before he returned to your side."

Finally seeming to understand what thin ice he was treading upon, Hao seemed torn between disbelief, anger, and confusion. "But...but surely one man's family, when weighed against the entire army, the people of the empire, all their families..."

"What happens to one, happens to all. What is true of one is true of all. If you would do this to a man whom you claimed mattered so greatly to you, whom you trusted, admired, and guided throughout his career, what would stop you from doing it to the rest of your men? To anyone in the empire you felt was superfluous, less valuable, an obstacle to your plans or worst of all, simply in the way?" By the time he had finished, he was shaking...with fury, contempt, but also horror and distress.

The armored tiger swallowed again, much more visibly, and rather looked as if he wished there were somewhere he could seat himself. A bead of nervous sweat trickled through the fur of his brow, yet somehow he managed to persevere, if unsteadily. "I...I do see your point. But regardless, the man disobeyed a direct order, abandoned his weapons and armor, myself and his men...if we had not still had access to his plans for the next day's battle, we would surely have lost, perhaps even been overrun and slain to a man. Does that not...?"

Chen closed his eyes for a few moments. "Yes, you are quite correct. He deserted, and that must be addressed, should we manage to track him down and bring him to justice." For a moment a very ambivalent look crossed the other tiger's craggy face—smugness mixed with an ashen sobriety. They both knew the penalty for desertion, and as much as Bao had disobeyed his commander, the tiger had respected him. To know what his fate would be...

"But there is more to this than you know." And he related the rest of it...the news that had begun filtering in from the southern provinces, of the pair of ruthless highwaymen who had begun to prey on travelers, who had robbed and murdered countless people in order to obtain the means for survival. How the few who had managed to witness their raids and escape with their lives had identified them as pandas—the only ones left alive in that province, after the murderous actions of that insane peacock in Gongmen, and the only ones who had had a restaurant, who had lost everything in that earthquake.

By the time he had finished, Hao looked even more incensed—but also horrified. "That is monstrous! How could he...that is not the man I trained...I thought I knew—" He broke off, his hoarse voice becoming determined again, impassioned. "Yet that cannot be laid at my feet! There is no possible way I could have known, or expected...that is the last thing I wanted!"

"Of course not," Chen reassured him, even as his chest remained tight with so many swirling emotions. "I would be a fool to blame you for that. But it does demonstrate rather well, I believe, the consequences which must be considered when anger rises. And that the fruits of karma are never what we believe them to be." He paused to let that sink in, then spoke slowly and deliberately. "No, what I do hold you accountable for is this: what you do not want done to yourself, do not do to others."

He could see it when the realization dawned on the man, the implication made between his fate and that of the man he had condemned to a life of poverty, loss, and rejection until he succumbed to either death or law-breaking...a life in which the lessons of ruthlessness and bloodshed, no quarter or mercy given, intelligent plotting which allowed for no evasion or escape, charisma to lure in the unsuspecting innocent, could all be put to the most heinous and cruel of uses.

As the other man struggled to respond, the emperor spoke softly, almost woodenly, his heart sinking further and further with each word. "I cannot allow such an example to stand...or be followed. What my father taught me, the wisdom of Confucius, and the teachings of Master Oogway, all cry out against it." He held up a paw as the crestfallen Amur opened his mouth. "And no, the fact the turtle is a sage of peace does not deny his words their value or truth. He was a great warrior in his youth, so he knows of what he speaks, has seen the results of his mistakes and worked to rectify them. And it is for peace that we strive...it is the peaceful lives I wish for my people...which you claim to defend, but which you took away from Bao...which matter more in the end, not these transient wars.

"I will not break my promise to the people, that I would look out for their interests above those of the nobles and elites who had ruled in Beijing for so long. I will not let others believe they can get away with what you have done, if they can excuse it with a higher purpose, the greater good, the needs of the many over the one. Or worse, simply because they believe my people are their lessers...that they can be sacrificed for such a cause, or even for nothing but a whim and their own comfort."

"I...I..." Hao's face had gone completely gray now and his paws were flexing spasmodically. "No, that isn't what—you couldn't possibly believe I would—"

"Can't I?" He gazed sorrowfully at a man he had once called friend, at the evasiveness in his eyes, the cringing that was most unlike one of his stature, how he licked his lips nervously and would not look him in the eye. "Who are you? I don't know you anymore. Bao did betray you and the empire—but only because you forced that choice upon him. You...you have betrayed me. And also yourself. Your honor. You thought yourself the superior man, and your TongJun the smaller...but it was the reverse. You saw what you wished to see, and that is what led you astray."

How long the other tiger stood there, motionless, silent, and stricken with guilt and shame, he did not know. But eventually, the general lifted his head and somehow managed to gather the shreds of his dignity about him...to resume his stiff military posture...and then nod in acceptance. His words were just as quiet, underlain with a buried pain. "I see. Very well, then. For what it is worth, I am sorry, Your Majesty. Not for what I did, which I still stand by as the correct and proper thing, but for what came of it. For...making you have to come to this decision." He paused. "When will it happen?"

Chen stared at him, let out the breath he'd been holding. There had been a very good chance Hao would have not only refused to accept his judgment, fought against it with rhetoric and debate, but with force of arms as well. Would have broken ranks, turned against him, become one of the rogue warlords that had plagued Emperors in the past and surely would again. But it seemed the man he'd known was still there, had not been a veneer of goodwill and generosity, a lie to conceal his secret, elitist plans. "Tomorrow, at daybreak." He too paused. "Thank you for not...contesting it."

"And why would I do that?" There was no sarcasm or insult in the words. "Even if I do not agree with your rationale, or the relative merits of that panda versus the war and the empire, you are still my Emperor, and I still believe in the rule of law and order. I shall to my dying breath, even though that be at the next dawn. It is what our civilization is built upon, what I have fought for, and I would not undermine that for anything. If my death is needed to preserve the empire not only from the forces of conquest and chaos but from inequality and injustice...from myself...then I will give my life for that, too. Be an example in more ways than one. All I ask is one thing."

Unable to fight the sense of admiration and respect returning to him—contrasted by the anguish and doubt and imminent loss—Chen said, "Anything that is in my power."

The aged fur around his eyes rippled as they became pinched, his flesh crinkled. "Spare my wife and children. Please."

Instantly he responded, "I had every intention of doing that already, Hao. They will be safe and protected, as will your house and inheritance, your line and your name. Those honors will not be taken from you."

Tears stood in the other tiger's eyes at hearing that, and instantly, instinctively, he pressed his paw to his heart and bowed, deeper and more earnestly than ever before. "Thank you. You truly are wise and merciful, as always." Rising, he turned away and walked...slowly but with purpose...to the door, his every stride as measured and unwavering as ever.

Chen watched him go...and when the door had closed behind him, his tread gone silent in the hall beyond, the Emperor buried his face in his paws and softly began to weep.

"Don't Let Me Get Me", Pink

The world was dark around her...not merely cloaked in the shadows of night, but actually colored in the blackest of hues, even seeming composed of darkness itself. But this was nothing new to her—the world had always seemed dark to her, and that fact had never bothered her. It was the natural way of things, the chaos which so many foolish people tried to control by imposing order, instead of embracing it, drawing upon it for inspiration, strength, power. All that mattered to her was whether it would keep her from what she sought, if it would conceal the truth and deny her her prey rather than aiding her.

And if it did, she would still overcome it. She always had, and she always would.

She leapt forward without seeming to touch the rocky ground—so fleet of foot that she only had to touch briefly to launch forward again, or perhaps she was even flying in some manner. She didn't know, in this place anything could be possible. There was the faintest of light, something pearlescent and silvery like the moon yet as dim as the stars, gleaming off of something to her left—enough to let her see the looming shapes of weirdly-eroded cliffs and pillars of rock, the cracked expanse of stone before her that created hazards of impossibly deep clefts descending to places unknown and unknowable. But it also showed her the rippling shimmer which could only be water, sending back those wavering reflections.

She turned toward it. In what seemed no time at all, as if she had simply dissolved into the shadows and reformed beside it, or as if the ground itself had sped along beneath her while she stood still, she found herself beside the flowing stream. And as she gazed down into its disturbed surface, she saw what she had known she would. What she had seen so many times since she came to this dark place. What she refused to admit had haunted her for many years before this.

Aged paws reached out toward her, imploring. Those green eyes gazed at her with desperation, urgency, anguished yearning. The reflected lips parted, and the apparition of the long-dead snow leopard seemed to speak. "You're only hurting yourself, my daughter. Please. Please end this. Put a stop to your madness, let your vendettas go, and come back to your family."

Even before he had finished uttering the words, she was throwing her head back and laughing—high, cold, cruel. Somewhere deep inside her heart, a tiny part of her reared back, appalled by how insane and unbalanced she sounded. The rest of her loved it, reveled in it. "What are you blathering about? You never understood me, and you never will. Everything I do is to become stronger, better...to rise above all those who would pull me down and tear me apart. You would not help me. You only feared me, so I had to find it somewhere else."

Wu Xuan shook his head sadly, his expression mournful, tears glistening in those saddened eyes. "All your life you've hidden behind a mask. A mask that your mother forced you to wear, told you was what you needed to be to make her proud, honor her family. But it was never you. Why will you not take it off even now...when she has destroyed you?"

She couldn't believe it—he was dead, she'd killed him herself, and still he would not relent, still would not let her be?! Why could she not banish him from her head? "Lies! All my life, you've kept me from my true destiny! Every time I faltered, doubted...every time I let Mother down and failed her, it was because I listened to you if only for a moment. Well, I won't have it! No more! There's only one thing I want to hear from you now..."

Smiling fiendishly, flexing her paws until the claws emerged from their sheaths and pierced her palms, drawing blood that welled up, as black as the shadows around her, she snarled, "Tell me. Tell me how you got to Chun and Jia! How did you make them lose their fear of me?!"

That had to be what had happened. Why Chun, after years of being the perfect assassin, never deviating from her missions, always standing at her side, would dare to defy her, to draw her blade upon her to protect that idiotic goose, Ping. Why Jia, after even more years of staying pitiful and pliable, pressed beneath her thumb and always hers to manipulate, terrify into submission, and guide to always follow her will, would somehow break free and deal her a killing blow—literally stabbing her in the back. Nothing else could explain it. Her father had to have gotten to them, poisoned them against her, made them as weak and pathetic as he was. Well, made Chun that way; Jia had always been weak, all he'd done there was strip away what little strength and skill and cold neutrality she'd managed to instill in her youngest sibling.

Unless...unless it had been...

She wheeled about, instinctively sensing another presence behind her, felt other eyes upon her—and there she was. Looming above her, above the quietly flowing stream, above the canyons and mountain peaks that composed these shadowy badlands. Even in the darkness she could see the rich vibrant hues of her embroidered robes now muted to deep grays...could see her elegantly-coiffed hair towering into the empty, uncaring sky, and those eyes that had always stared down at her imperiously, endlessly judging...now turned to soulless spheres of pure white. But not a purity of goodness, one of hollowness, inhumanity, something lacking any emotion but especially compassion and forgiveness.

Instantly she bristled, and despite the figure's gigantic size, she screamed out to it—screamed her hatred, but also her brazen defiance, a cockiness that drove her, compelled her because to do otherwise, to discount it or deny it, would be to admit she had in the end become as weak as the rest of her family.

"Yes! It was you, wasn't it?! You did it all, Mother! You've been conspiring to take me down since the day I was born! Even when I was an infant, you saw something in me you never had! Power! That's why you keep calling me a failure! That's why I was never good enough in your eyes. My power makes you fear me!" She laughed again, disjointed but also victorious. She understood, she saw it all now and for the first time.

"You made Chun and Jia turn on me. I don't know how you got to them, but you did. And the Dragon Warrior...there's no way he could have humiliated me as he did, if not for you! How did you show that stupid, fat panda how to defeat me?!"

Wu Qing continued to gaze down at her—impassively, heartlessly, a shadowed monster who would never turn away, never cease rejecting her, dismissing her accomplishments because she was not perfect as she was. It only made her blood boil hotter, her teeth gnash, her lips writher back in a rictus of uncontrollable fury. All the poise and calm, the cleverness and guile she had so prided herself on and which had served her so well, was gone now, as fleeting as the snowfields when the sun burned hottest.

"Well...it doesn't matter now. I've seen through you, seen through you both!" She stabbed a finger toward Xuan's reflection, which still watched her with a heart-wrenching look of pity that made her want to scream in rage. "You're still here, tormenting me, even after what I did to you. Somehow you survived it. You're stronger than I thought. But even when you're strong, you're weak—still trying to turn me from greatness, still prattling about love and kindness as if they can shake the world, make people give me what I want, what I deserve. As if they even exist and have any meaning!"

Twisting back to Qing, she reached down instinctively to her side and somehow was not surprised to find her Wind and Fire Wheel hanging at her belt in its usual place, its weight familiar and delightful to her. "And you! You've trapped me here somehow, it's some power you unlocked studying the assassins of old, just like Heian Chao! That is your most treacherous act, Mother—turning my own mind against me! Well not any more."

Pulling her weapon free, she glanced back at the stream, taking great satisfaction in seeing the horror, the silent pleading, on her father's face—and the wicked gleam in her bulging eyes, the fiendishness twisting her muzzle into a caricature of a smile. "I'll do it, now, what I need to do. I'm going to break free of this prison you've both buried me in. I'm going to escape, track down Jia and Chun and Mei, make them pay for what they did to me. I'll claim Tai Lung for my own, the way he always should have been. No one will stand in my way...no one will stop me from dealing out death and darkness. No one will stop me from having all of China in my thrall. Maybe I'll even become Empress, wouldn't that be something?!"

"Xiu...please..." Xuan's paws clenched and trembled. "I love you."

Scooping up a loose rock, she threw it as hard as she could into the river, screaming incoherent syllables as his reflection broke apart...as it was blurred by her streaming tears. Whirling about with her weapon brought to bear, she saw now that at last Qing had moved toward her...still as cold and silent as the grave, as composed of shifting layers of shadow as the rest of this dark world, her paws lifted from beneath voluminous sleeves to reveal fingers that bore wicked claws...claws that seemed to lengthen as she watched, become daggers, then sickles, then scythes. But as they clicked and scraped against one another with a blood-curdling shriek, she only felt her heart beating in anticipation and grinned up at her.

"I can't tell you how long I've dreamed of this moment. I hope you're ready, Mother. I hope you watch closely. I'll show you perfection. More perfection than you've ever imagined. I'll show it to you until you choke on it! I'll kill you...I'll destroy you!"

And she leaped toward the traitor's giant shape, her fire wheel slashing and slicing with wild, frenetic motions, striking through robes and shadows to tear at her essence with impunity. Manic glee filled her, and she threw back her head to cry out in unholy joy as she felt it shredding and coming apart under her unrelenting assault. "Better than you! I'll always be better than you...!"

In the darkened silence of a single cell of Fēng Diān Prison, dimly lit by only a lone guttering candle within a small lantern, two figures sat facing each other. The oppressive weight of the stone-blocked walls was split by a grate of iron bars between them, separating each from the other but allowing both to have an unobstructed view through its criss-crossing lattice. Xiu sat unrestrained on the floor, her limbs having been folded by her jailers into a semblance of the lotus position, her paws resting with incongruous submissiveness in her lap. Her face, which ever since the Vault of Heroes had been locked in an expression of mingled terror, agony, and despair, was for the first time shifting...slowly but surely changing to one of confidence and triumph.

Across from her, seated in the chair that was the cell's sole furnishing, her ankles bound in locked chains and her upper body still tightly restrained by the loops and fastenings of her carefully-designed jacket for the insane, the now-wizened Wu Qing stared back right through her daughter, hair tangled and matted, eyes unfocused and glazed, toothless mouth parted in slack-jawed, drooling vacuity. And softly at first, then with greater volume, cracking and wheezing and giggling in high, reedy tones, she began to laugh and laugh.

"Holding Out for a Hero", Bonnie Tyler

At the foot of the Jade Mountain...on the banks of the river which surrounded the peak, blocking the spans of each of the moon bridges which led over the flowing water...standing amongst the looming, magnificent statues which had once towered within the Vault of Heroes...the warriors of the Valley of Peace were poised and waiting. Ready as always to defend their home to the last, to battle with courage, strength, dexterous skill, and determination, even giving their lives if need be to ensure all those who lived there would be safe and protected.

The news had come thanks to the timely warning of a trio of travelers who had happened to be crossing the Thread of Hope on their pilgrimage to the great monastery of kung fu—a very familiar trio, whom Crane, Mei Ling, and Wu Jia had met in their travels over ten years ago, in Xinjiang to the west. The monk Achal Balaji, the former warlord Shou Feng, and his lieutenant Itultarak. What they had observed, to their horror and growing fury, was the approach of a great army from the mountain passes, descending upon the plateau fronting the Devil's Mouth so as to aim straight and true toward the rope bridge that would bring them right to the Valley...to its unspoiled land, its prosperous riches, and its helpless citizens.

They had succeeded—just barely—in making it across the last span with the invaders at their heels, who seemed so driven by greed, lust, and desire for conquest that only the need to slow as they moved from one span and peak to the next had kept them from overrunning the itinerants. And even when the swords wielded by the wolf and dhole had severed the ropes so that the wooden bridge had fallen away into the chasm, their pursuers had not halted...for to their greater terror, the army had revealed who, or what, had been driving them.

A great, immense shape clad in scales of gold and crimson, coiling and twisting like a festival puppet as it rose into a sky suddenly packed with pitch-black clouds riven by streaks of lurid lightning. A shape that was clearly not of this world, as its blazing vermilion eyes contained a hatred, a wickedness, a cruelty that could only be found in the underworld; its shape was that of a dragon with long, curling whiskers—almost tendrils—that danced in prehensile excitement as if they were alive, a creature which everyone knew was a mystical beast that could also only be found among the spirits; and it was surrounded by a seething, roiling fog of darkness...or did it ride it? Was it perhaps even composed of it?

None of them could say for sure...all they knew was it held a blackness like none seen in a mortal being, an impenetrable, flat, unholy shadow that could only be called demonic. And not only was this immensely powerful monstrosity driving the army before it, but before their eyes it extended its coils—and out of the surging shadow, a new structure formed to bridge the gap between the peaks. A structure which somehow supported the weight of so many armored men, weapons, and siege engines, but which was quite clearly formed solely of flickering, hissing, cackling flames.

Achal and his companions had rushed at once to the Valley, their fear and desperation and urgent need to bring warning and save the lives of the blissfully unaware villagers gifting them with a speed they otherwise never could have achieved—or perhaps the gods were with them, and had provided divine assistance? With no time to evacuate the Valley either through the river portage or over the road to the Musician's Village, there had been no choice but to house the panicking citizens on the Jade Mountain itself: in the palace, the arena, the barracks, everywhere space and defenses could be found.

And with Shifu able to identify, with a face so gray he seemed on the verge of either passing out or becoming violently ill, just what the creature was guiding this invasion force—the lord of the demons, Ke-Pa, somehow released at last from the prison where he had been held for countless thousands of years—there had been no alternative but to stand their ground, block the way with one great, unified line of defense around the mountain's base. The spirit of Master Oogway had said he would do all he could, draw upon the holy chi that resided in the Vault of Heroes, the sacred hall of the palace itself, and other mysterious sources he would not reveal, to shield the temple and those within its environs. But the bulk of the fighting would, of course, be up to them.

But what a force they had assembled. And Po knew, he knew with a prescience he thought had to be like what the turtle himself had often possessed in life, that they would win.

"There they stood," he said under his breath, green eyes fixed on the distant slopes of Wu Dan where he could already see the invaders pouring down like a river of molten steel and scarlet lava—their uniforms all seemed to match the fires of the demon lord who had made them his knife to plunge into the Valley's exposed heart. "The forces of good were rallied, standing side by side, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip! They would let nothing past them. Although they faced incredible, impossible, unbelievable odds, they had the hearts of heroes! And while many of them trembled and shook at the truly tremendous evil they faced, and worried at how many of them might not live to see the sunrise, they knew it was their destiny, nay, their duty, to stand on the precipice of the Valley of Peace, to protect its precarious...peacefulness."

A loud groan came from his right, followed by the familiar sound of a hand slapping to a forehead. "Really, Po?" Monkey exclaimed. "That's th' best ya can come up with? And after all dis time, ya still can't stop stealin' your lines? I know we heard that in a play in Beijing just last week."

"Besides," Mantis quipped from the langur's shoulder, "they're hardly as bad as all that. I've seen worse at my sister-in-laws' weddings."

Wriggling swiftly up between the simian's feet and the panda's, Viper made a scandalized sound. "Mantis! How can you say that?!" She paused, then chuckled affectionately. "Don't you know Bao and Li-Na are renewing their wedding vows next week?"

The bears in question, meanwhile, were looking back and forth between all of them, a very confused array of expressions flitting across their faces—pride and awe at hearing how awesome their son's speech had been (before his words failed him, at the end there), bemusement, uncertainty, and a definite wariness, as if they intended to edge away at any moment.

"Are they always like this?" his father asked at last of Crane, uneasily shifting his grip on the hilt of his dao.

"You have no idea," the waterfowl breathed fervently.

"Well," Li-Na commented crisply, "I don't know if this is brash overconfidence, or if this just proves how good the Jade Palace warriors truly are, if they can afford to be so...flippant. But at least we don't have to worry about you not fitting in here, son."

Po briefly buried his face in his paw—which also served to keep the visor of Flying Rhino's helmet from closing over it. He was grateful, more so than he could ever put into words, that his parents were here at his side, ready to face down evil with him...that Emperor Chen had taken advantage of the Imperial pardon—which was allotted to the throne every few years as a blanket blessing to spare all but the worst offenders—to spring the elder pandas from Shandong and allow them to join him here, in the Valley. But he hadn't wanted them to see him, or his friends, quite like this…

As if reading his thoughts, his dearest friend, his brother, his teacher and his endlessly teasing tormentor, spoke up in that familiar sardonic drawl to his left. "Monkey's right, panda. After all this time...what kind of Dragon Warrior are you? You've mastered all one thousand scrolls by now, or near enough to, you've saved hundreds of lives, brought down countless villains—and you still can't tell a good story?"

"Hey, that's hittin' a little below th' belt, don't ya think?" And it hadn't been that bad. He'd gotten far better over the years.

"You don't wear a belt. Which may explain why those shorts of yours are perennially falling down, even to this day."

Po grinned, unable to resist. "You sayin' you've been checkin' out my butt?"

"You wish." Tai Lung snorted contemptuously.

"No, no I really don't. But I know what I do wish." He gestured with the Sword of Heroes toward the howling, ravening horde of mercenaries and soldiers—he thought from their manner of dress, as they drew closer and more details could be seen, that they hailed from the south, in India. "I wish that instead of takin' me t' task, ya focused on gettin' ready t' wipe th' ground with those guys." He paused artfully. "Unless, of course, you're plannin' on throwin' th' fight, so th' rest of us get a chance t' actually do anything."

There was a pause, and then the snow leopard snarled, low and dark, under his breath. "I'll have you know, tubby, that I have not thrown, nor will I ever throw, any kung fu battle! Not even a training match or an exhibition."

Po held up both paws reassuringly, his armor clinking. "All right, all right, I got it, bud. No worries, keep your shirt on."

"I'm not wearing a shirt, panda."

"Was that supposed t' be a come-on line? I've seen it all before, y'know."

An even longer pause. "You know, I can still beat your flabby butt."

"And again with th' butt. Ya tryin' t' tell me somethin'? An' I love you too, schnookums." Somehow the Dragon Warrior felt much better, though he allowed that Mantis's ribald laugh—followed by Master Shifu's chuckle!—probably had something to do with that too.

Taking the time to look around the circle of warriors poised for battle, the panda couldn't help but grin at what he saw and heard. Crane, he saw, stood back-to-back with Mei Ling, once more carrying the Ring Blades of Twin Weasels while his mountain cat wife was armed with her usual pair of sabers; not only were they ready to fight in tandem, each of their moves complementing and mirroring each other's, but even their words were finishing each other's sentences as they tossed out moves and strategies.

"—I was thinking we should lead off with a divebomb from me, strafing those soldiers with my blades. Did you want to—?"

"—ride on your legs again, like we did in Haojing? Maybe, bao bao, but I think I might want to be free to do a Seven Ways of Plum Flower Punch—"

"Oh yes, that'd be quite effective! And that would also leave me able to—"

"—pull off that move you did against Lord Shen in Gongmen? I really wish I hadn't been off with Jia when you guys took him out, I'd love to have seen each and every one of your battles." Mei Ling grinned. "Complete with 'Ka-kaw's!"

"I never did that," Crane said stiffly, resentfully...then grinned in surprisingly cocky fashion. "Until then, and ever since."

"That's my husband," Mei said proudly, nose elevated. "But you know what I really want to see?"

The avian glanced sidelong at her, eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

"I want to see if you can use those Ring Blades the way you did against Heian Chao. And the way you learned back at Li Dai." She grinned winsomely. "There's even plenty of clotheslines here in the village you can use to do it."

A very familiar, dopey grin appeared on his bill, echoed by the one on Mei's muzzle.

Shifu was poised and ready with Oogway's staff, already glowing with golden chi simply from the nearness of Ke-Pa and his appalling corruption; beyond him, Hu and Huo were next to each other as always, with Dragon and Leopard Fists held at shoulder and side, then Peng with his uncle's sword held as if he intended to use it like Ping did his cleaver. Beyond them were the Jiao brothers, Dalang and Shang, and Po didn't have to strain to hear them over the roars and howls of the approaching army—because the tigers were most definitely shouting at each other. Good-naturedly, he thought…

"When this is all over, I think I'm taking you to the red light district in Shanghai again." The Imperial Captain pursed his lips, then grinned with a naughty gleam in his eyes. "Maybe this time the chāngjì won't push you out her door with your shortcomings hanging out; now that I've got three times the soldier's pay, I can afford to get you more time."

The chef smirked knowingly. "You gonna join in, if there are any guys for sale at that brothel? Or can Shang Jr. even come out to play anymore?"

Shang turned red-faced. "I'll have you know, I've never had that problem—"

"I don't know…"

"I'm not that much older than you!"

"Ten years, bro…"

"Shut up!"

"Old-timer."

"Fuck you, Dalang, when I get my hands on you—" He lunged for his brother, but the younger tiger dodged nimbly out of the way, laughing.

"You mean if. You know reflexes are the first thing to go..."

Naturally enough, the Amur's superiors (and, from what Po could gather, bedmates—how exactly did that work, logistically?) were not far from him. And while both men were extremely muscular and well-built, with gleaming armor, shields, and weapons, he couldn't help noticing the fox, Ji Tao, was clenching one fist and had already begun to gather his own chi which, unlike that of Oogway's staff, was a brilliant, eye-searing blue.

He also noticed that the panther, Liang, despite having been the softer-spoken and more laconic of the two when they had been introduced a few days ago, was now currently the one standing in the forefront—his free paw grasping the vulpine's huge, bushy tail (whether to guide or restrain him, he could not say) while he pointed the tip of his blade to describe a path through the village and up along a barely-visible path to intersect the descending ranks of soldiers, clearly plotting a path of attack. Well whaddaya know. Looks like he can do more than just dredge up battle plans from musty old books! If they traded off leadership like that, they had to be a good team.

Speaking of leadership, a chorus of youthful voices (and one incredibly giddy feminine one) suddenly echoed from behind him, and when Po turned again, he saw Jia dashing forward at the head of a horde of young teens and twelve-year-olds—a mix of both their adopted children, and her half-sister and Crane's. "Come on, my little monsters!" she exclaimed, laughing wildly. "Let's lick these lychees!" The snow leopardess sent each of them dashing off to join the line—for while all four of the parents had tried to insist their children stay at the Jade Palace with the villagers where it was safe, none of them would hear of it. And since they had all been trained in kung fu, and were old enough now…

As the panda was shaking his head—You are still so darn weird, Jia. An' don't you ever change!—the former assassin withdrew a pair of weapons he had never expected to see in her paws again...Wind and Fire Wheels. Meeting his gaze with her violet eyes, she stood up straight, squaring her shoulders—he knew how much it meant to her to be able to still use the assassin's weapons, but this time for a good cause.

Yet when she moved up next to him and leaned in close to whisper in his ear, what she said had nothing to do with how she'd come to terms with her mother and her heritage in the past few years. "You'd better make it through this alive, baby bear. 'Cause if you do, the reward'll be, well…"

He didn't know which embarrassed him more, even after all this time—the absolutely scandalous but arousing things she whispered next, or the very firm and familiar slap she planted on his rump for luck.

Hurriedly Po giggled rather disjointedly and turned to look to the last arc of the circle, where Shen Yi stood back-to-back with Chuluun; the latter, even as he was clearly ready to launch into action alongside the bovine who was his dearest friend, was keeping up a running litany of plans for the upcoming combat to his master, Tai Lung.

"Now then," the snow leopard counseled rather insistently, "since we don't know how many of these men are under this demon lord's control, we have to assume they'll act like usual mercenaries when confronted with a superior fighting force. But they'll also likely be smart enough to catch on to our tactics unless we hide what we're up to. So—"

"You can count on me!" the rhino bellowed, thrusting his chest out belligerently and adopting a Dragon stance. "I'll take this side of our fighters and plow up the mountainside, out of sight below the ledge. They'll never expect that, or see us coming 'til we're right on top of them!"

Tai Lung stared at him, aghast. "What? No, that'd be suicide! You should—"

"Nah, you're right, those cliffs are too unstable. Okay, we'll go the other way, up the riverbank, so the forest hides us, and then charge 'em as soon as they come down off the road!"

"That's not what I meant either! Why don't you—"

"What? Hide among the houses in the village, then leap out on them from the alleys as soon as they pass? Or would off the roofs be better?" Chuluun grinned at him with shining, simple sincerity.

The snow leopard pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. "Would you please let me get a bloody word in edgewise and outline a plan for you that isn't just 'charge straight in and hit them'?!" Groaning softly, he shook his heavy head. "You are a problem to me…"

From the rhino and Yi's other side, Shou Feng looked up from the expression of obvious hero worship on his muzzle as he gazed at his leonine master; he had clearly taken his new discipline and faith to heart, and loved the monk for it. His countenance turned rather bleak, however, as he frowned toward the demonic smoke and flames which curled and poured upward around the nearest sugarloaves. "That last suggestion of his was not actually that foolhardy," the wolf said; unsurprisingly, despite being shown the error of his ways and guided to a path of redemption and penance, he was still rather diffident around Tai Lung.

"But you are also correct: even without this spiritual force guiding him, the warlord leading this army is much like I was, once. I saw him, as we fled ahead of him across the ancient spans; he is a tiger, bigger than any I have ever laid eyes upon until returning to the Valley." His eyes flicked to Shang, still bickering humorously with his brother. "Of a far darker, warmer shade of orange than Master Tigress, and with stripes of dark brown rather than black. From his garb—a kilt of rich ocher red, armlets and rosette earrings of gold and gems, and a magnificent ruby neckpiece—I would wager he is a prince of his realm. From the pata he wears, I am certain he is a formidable and powerful warrior. And his eyes...they are so dark, like black marble, empty of any mercy, compassion, or forgiveness...any emotion at all."

Feng swallowed hard. "I do fear that he is an enemy like none you have faced before. And I cannot tell whether he is such because this Ke-Pa has possessed him, or if he was that wicked to begin with. I am not even certain...which of them truly commands."

All of them fell quiet at these words, the amusing and friendly exchanges dying into an uncomfortable, distressed silence at their implications. Which would be worse, a warlord such as this inhabited by such a dark force, or one with a strong enough will that he could actually control it?

Beside the wolf, Achal reached out to set a heavy but gentle paw on his disciple's shoulder, clearly doing all he could to reassure his charge in the face of such despair. In the distance, the sounds were growing louder, closer...the dust raised by the charging men was blending with the demon's impenetrable cloud of shadow, rising to eclipse the Valley and cut it off from the outside world...from life, from hope, from existence itself, it seemed.

Yet into this bleak, unsettling darkness, Monkey's words suddenly sounded...soft, a bit reedy with his rasping, constricted breathing, but growing more brave and bold with each word. "We still can't give up hope. Remember Gongmen? Gotta be strong. Hardcore." He smiled at Tigress, who of course had stayed silent alongside Tai Lung, neither joining in the jocular banter nor planning their attacks...only eyeing the enemies through slitted lids that calculated each of their deaths as an indisputable fact that simply had yet to be accomplished.

"Count us in," Tao spoke up without hesitation in that unusually deep voice of his. "We're just happy to be fighting alongside one another again, no matter what the odds are. Wouldn't have it any other way. Right?" He grinned meaningfully at the panther as well as Shang, and received heartfelt, affectionate gazes in return.

From the langur's shoulder, Mantis chimed in again. "Well you know what I always say. It's not the size of the insect in the fight, but the size of the fight in the insect."

"And I know what I say," Bao cut in. "None of us are gonna fall to these bozos, any more than we have to the Mongols and the Huns. 'Cause we're gonna fight to our last breaths, we're warriors, with souls of steel and hearts of silver."

Po puffed out his own chest at hearing this, fighting back the tears that formed in his eyes; from the way a rose-pink light shimmered and beamed brightly outward from the Peach Tree's promontory high above to cut through the oppressive blackness, he didn't think he was the only one pleased by these inspiring words. When he glanced at his brother warrior, he managed to put on that devil-may-care, sly smile that always came to his lips when he was ready and willing to face the most dangerous challenges, the most difficult kung fu moves.

"Dad's right. This'll be a walk in the Emperor's garden compared to what we've been through. Right, Tai?"

The snow leopard grinned back at him, slowly but with increasing confidence, as his dark purr filled his voice. "Damn straight, Dragon Warrior. Though I should warn you, I'll be all the way through that garden and sitting on this pathetic Indian kitten long before you are."

"Oh really?" Po laughed, beginning to feel a familiar glee bubbling up inside him, wiping away the fear and worry and paralysis that had begun to wash over him at hearing Feng's words. "Don't I remember ya sayin' somethin' about 'he who gloats loses the upper paw'?"

Tai Lung chuckled, performing a kung fu bow to acknowledge that well-placed strike. "Well if you're going to be like that...why don't we just see whether you're as good at bringing down the bad guys as you are at nabbing dumplings?"

A thought came to him as he too found his mind going back to that playful, lighthearted game atop Wu Dan, and what else they had learned there. "I betcha I am! Bet I can wash that tiger's feet right out from under him with my Water!"

"And I," the master of the Jade Palace growled menacingly, "can heat up this weapon of his with my Fire until he's forced to drop it. Or better yet, it burns his bloody fur off."

"It'll be pretty hard for these guys to do much to us," Po observed, "if we keep hitting their weapons from underneath, so they get knocked out of position, or outta their hands, right up in th' air…"

"If there's ever a time to cheat," the spotted cat agreed, "it's now."

Nearer than ever now, the army poured onto the grassy plains and farm fields surrounding the village, and the front ranks—either that confident in their skill or that pugnacious and bloodthirsty—were already firing their first waves of arrows. Arrows which contained a good number of flaming missiles among them. Each of the warriors acted instinctively to deflect, break, or otherwise blunt these attacks—Shifu's whirling staff, Crane's Ring Blades, Shang's swords, and Chuluun's rock-hard forearms alike made short work of the arrows, while gusts of dampening chi from Po, Tao, and Mei Ling put out their fires.

Tigress, of course, had been set to easily catch the arrows coming in toward her face, just as she had with Shen's soldiers in Gongmen—but before she could do so, a pair of war fans intervened, sending the missiles harmlessly into the river. One of them, painted with dragons, was instantly recognizable from a certain battle on Wu Dan, but the other was just as familiar—the gleaming silver, mystical kung fu artifact from the Hall of Warriors that had once been borne by Lady Wind Song, the Shadow of the Moon...one which legends claimed could cut through stone. Twisting her head to the side, the leader of the Furious Five let out a disgusted sound, though she couldn't completely hide her grudging admiration at the move. "What do you think you're doing?"

Poised on the balls of her feet, green eyes gleaming above her face-wrap, black cloak swirling about her, Wu Chun—who had also, to her sisters' delight, received the Son of Heaven's pardon—smirked. "Saving the jerk who sent me to prison. Now, are we going to fight, or just stand around pointlessly maundering all day? Winning may be boring, but we haven't won yet."

Shaking his head in wonderment—he never would have believed such a group could have fought as allies, over a decade ago—Po glanced down the line of warriors...to where Viper was coiled around the Invisible Trident of Destiny and Monkey bore Jin Hu's Iron Fist...back to Tigress, who wore Dog's Ninja Weapons, and Tai Lung who carried the Golden Spear.

He grinned excitedly as he saw Crane gesture, his feathers shifting in intricate patterns as the Ring Blades twirled and spun around his wings, and before his eyes the chi the waterfowl had been studying with Master Shifu manifested—making the giant stands of bamboo outside the village, the branches and roots of the great oaks and redwoods on the hillside slopes, any form of wood and plant life to be found in the Valley, reach out to attack the invaders...coiling, snapping, battering, sending them flying, toppling to block their path or crush them…

"I love you guys," Po cried out jubilantly, with more warmth and passion than ever before.

Above, the draconic form of Ke-Pa surged down from the mountain peaks, letting out a roar that would chill anyone's blood. Fire exploded from his gaping maw, curling in great searing prominences against the stormy, blackened skies, claws gleamed with terrible sharpness, and a rippling aura of chi burned in the air around him, radiating out toward the Jade Mountain with twisted malevolence. "Prepare yourselves! Prepare for the coming of Akshatha Rao, he who freed me from my prison and thus receives the ultimate glory and honor! Prepare to meet your new Emperor, just as I shall rule the entire world in eternal darkness!"

As if. And he didn't even mean just the likelihood of these two and their minions winning; no matter how savvy this tiger was, how much he believed himself the master and how powerful a warrior he was, there was no way Ke-Pa would allow him to live once he had served his purpose—and if he did, it would only be to rule this world of shadow and demons as a figurehead, a puppet emperor.

Lifting the Shield of Fire Monkey Pass on one arm and the Sword of Heroes in his other paw, the panda who had once been only a noodle chef but who was now so much more...because he had believed he was special...struck a Leopard stance. To his left, he spied Achal—bare-chested as always for combat, but still wielding his walking stick in one paw—strike a similar pose, but closer at hand he felt as much as saw Tai Lung turning to face Tigress, concern on his blocky, age-grizzled face.

"This is going to be the most epic battle we've ever been a part of, love. We'll have to use every kung fu move in our repertoires...fight with every weapon...use every drop of chi at our disposal. We'll be facing fanatical warriors, a power-mad tyrant in the making, and oh by the by, a demon lord. It'll be very fierce, very long, and very, very dangerous."

A low chuckle answered him, and when Po glanced that way he wasn't surprised to see a wry look upon the striped feline's features. She gestured with one of the dao she carried, and with a wave of her own chi, the metal to be found in the very earth rose upward in sharpened spikes all along the riverbank, ready and waiting to catch the charging mercenaries upon them—or even to fly out of the ground as if launched from catapults, for all he knew.

"Don't worry," Tigress said soothingly. "I'll protect you."

First Yi, then Hu and Huo, then finally Peng, started laughing.

And then as one, each of the warriors...the students of many years of training and those still learning, those who had always known they would follow the ways of kung fu and those who could only dream until their lives were changed forever, the brave and the wise, the redeemed and the pure—heroes all—surged forward against demons and invaders in turn as they poured across the Valley into the village...a wave of evil and darkness that would only crash uselessly against them, against the statues of the ancient masters, against the Middle Kingdom itself, until it washed away into nothing.

Legends would tell of legendary warriors whose kung fu skills were the stuff of legend…

(A/N: The first shuffle was inspired by, and rather heavily based on, a scene from Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol, specifically the moment when Isabelle leaves Scrooge forever. Aside from the fact the novella is in the public domain, I wanted to properly express both the antiquity of Chao's time period and the tragic but cruel nature of what happened to Chao, and between him and Xiwang, so I felt the words of that conversation [tweaked and expanded by me in numerous ways, of course] would convey what I wanted to say better than ones of my own. One last gasp of Chao's humanity, and a scenelet to bridge where we last saw Chao in the final vignette and what he would become later. Hopefully it is as painful, frustrating, and dark as I intended it to be. Also, a point of interest: the reason for my choice in Xiwang's species, aside from its beauty and being a native of China, is the famous Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale, "The Nightingale." To anyone familiar with its plot, or who can Google it, I'm sure you can see the resonance both with Chao's eventual fate and what could have been if he had only listened to Xiwang.

The second shuffle is one prompted once again by my friend and reviewer Samadhir, who had noted in a review for the vignettes that he would like to have seen more of General Hao, in fact this specific scene. I agreed with him, since it hardly seemed fair to show his actions and words which contributed to Bao's fall from grace without showing the consequences or his reaction to that. Basically, to show that for all that he was a classist and a well-intentioned extremist, he was also still a good and honorable man who would understand—if not the reason for Chen's anger, then the reason why his judgment was necessary to preserve the people and the empire. Let's just say that after having seen Zootopia I am conscious once again of making sure characters remain well-rounded, that just as heroes can have flaws, villains or people who oppose heroes/cause conflict in a story can have admirable and virtuous qualities. That even those who look down on others can see the error of their ways, and there is more to them than their prejudices. So I had him respect and understand Chen's wisdom in the end [which by the way, several of his sayings, including the rephrasing of the Golden Rule, are indeed from Confucius] and go to his fate with dignity.

Third shuffle was a challenge, getting into the mind of the insane, but once again I had assistance, this time in the example of Xiu's antecedent Azula from Avatar the Last Airbender, specifically as part of the arc with her and Zuko looking for Ursa in the comic book "The Search". Of course Xiu has issues with both of her parents, which is why they both appear to her rather than only Xuan, and the reversal of the characters' fates is why Xiu and Qing have the opposite appearances and restraints [or lack thereof] as Azula and Ozai. You will probably also notice I incorporated a lot of the imagery of Ping's nightmare from the holiday special. This should also give you an answer as to whether Xiu has any remorse or regrets, and how much chance there is she could ever change, like the other villains have to various extents...

Final shuffle was my last chance to show all the characters you've grown to know and love, including my own creations, so of course I'm not only showcasing their humor, personalities, and relationships, but making lots of references and callbacks, whether to the movies or my own stories. Also making appearances are yet more references to Ilien's "Book of Changes" [Tai's line to Chuluun is of course, and in amusing irony, one her Vachir constantly said about/to Tai himself, and Akshatha finally shows up to testify to how much of a heartless bastard and immoral monster he is by freeing/making a deal with Ke-Pa]; Chun quoting some familiar Mai lines from Avatar; and Tigress and Tai Lung aping the final exchange between Sinbad and Marina in DreamWorks' movie about the titular thief. I also, of course, had to have fun teasing the TaiPo shippers again, while the moments where Crane and Tigress show off their chi training is simply me finally being able to fulfill what I hinted at and promised in ADL: since Shifu had said all those at the Jade Palace could learn elemental chi, and we'd already seen Fire, Water, and Earth... I rather thought Wood and Metal fit their respective personalities. FYI, I see Viper as another Water, while Mantis would be Metal and Monkey would be Earth. As for Ke-Pa, you can obviously assume the way he was freed and where he and his demons were imprisoned is very different in ADL, what with both the Jade Palace and the Peach Tree still present, but in all other respects I wanted to make reference to what I consider one of the better stories and villains in the TV series even as I made them my own.

As for the Hero's Qi...you have to know that even if the largest repository lies with the Dragon Warrior, it actually flows through all of the palace's fighters, perhaps even a touch with each of their allies too. In which case, I hope you don't feel too worried by the Bolivian Army Ending I left you with...because you have to know that of course they're going to win, right? ^_^

So, that's a wrap! What a long road it's been...I will be grateful to move on to my own original projects, but I do not regret for a second writing any of this, only how long it ended up taking me. Not only was it a lot of fun, it challenged me and made me grow as a writer in so many ways I can't begin to enumerate or fathom. I only hope I will keep growing and creating even better and more meaningful stories as I continue into the future. Once again, I thank all of you for caring, reading, responding, and appreciating what I've endeavored to do. You're every bit as awesome as Po and his companions [and I look forward to seeing what DreamWorks does with them in KFP3 and the sequels beyond!]. R/R!)