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Chapter Text

The sailor calmly watched the wood being screwed in by the hammer in his hand. He worked with a sense of calm on his boat under the strong, blinding sun. He had to fix it quickly if he wanted it to stay afloat in that pool. Once it was finally afloat, he immediately went down and headed straight for the house, with the idea of having a good glass of cold juice. But suddenly he heard the doorbell of that large mansion, seeing the big door in front of him.

He calmly decided to go to it, he had nothing to lose by opening it to see who it was. He found himself with a pile of letters. He calmly saw some bills, invitations, rates, the usual. But he saw one that caught his attention in particular. It was a simple white envelope that had only his name in cursive, which seemed strange to him. Why him? Wasn't it Scrooge who was sent these kinds of things?

Nerves came to the surface, running down his spine. He felt that this letter would be his death sentence, but at the same time, that small and weak sense of adventure he had once denied having forced him to want to open it, to know what it was. So he mustered up his courage and put the rest of the letters inside, walking carefully to a guest room where he was staying while he fixed his boat. He slowly opened the white envelope, looking at a small sheet of paper, but there was also a small bag that held something. He decided to read the explanation first.

Dear Donald,

It's been a while since we talked. After all, your early retirement caused some connection to be lost, but I have heard from several tongues that you are now free. How about you come to the cafe that this old man used to love when he lived here? Maybe we can even talk about some stories from the past. How about this Friday at 6 p.m.?

Signed, Everett Ducklair

He got goosebumps. He couldn't believe it was really a letter from Everett. He looked at the letter and then at the small bag trembling in his hand. He quickly dropped the paper on the bed, opening the bag, surprised by its contents. It was a pure metal ring with a Latin engraving: "Sic Parvis Magna"

"—. . . Greatness comes from small beginnings. . ." he whispered, reading the words that were in front of him, almost like a memory.

The ring, unlike usual, was tied to a small black rope to be worn as a necklace. It was exactly the same after so many years, making the sailor ask himself so many questions that he had to let go of everything for a moment and breathe to calm down.

He looked at the letter carefully. It was Thursday. The invitation must have arrived quite late at this point, or maybe it was the intention of the one who sent it for it to be like that. Be that as it may, the sailor simply put the letter in a drawer and hung the ring around his neck. He remembered so many things about him that he couldn't separate now that he had it. He had to think a little before accepting the invitation to go.

After so much time on an adventure, everyone always came back hungry, ready to devour whatever the housekeeper cooked that day! The children arrived, talking about what the next adventure would be, excited, especially the youngest in the green sweater. A candy kingdom? That was something that interested him, although he planned to use a supposedly infallible plan. Tomorrow night there was going to be a "tornado" or something like that, which meant no adventure.

He was excited. He could get easy money and a trip to a land of candy? Nah, it seemed unreal, so he got to work. Besides, what was the worst that could happen?

Everything that could go wrong went wrong! Seeing his family disappear from rays, transporting them to the past? That wasn't what he wanted! He just wanted easy money! Now everything went wrong and he had to fix it. He was succeeding without help, but that was the consequence. He had to fix everything alone and so he did! Louie managed to get everyone back to their time, each one talking about different experiences and how he shouldn't have done that. But the one who seemed upset was the mother of the three "chicks." She seemed dismayed, a little scared, but when she saw her youngest son, she showed a disappointed look, one you would never want to see, especially from your mother.

"—Louie! I can't believe you did that!? How could you do that?" she said, approaching, taking off her helmet and looking at him. Despite being angry, the light of affection was still visible in her eyes.

"—I know! I'm sorry! It wasn't my intention, but I already fixed everything! I created a p-plan and they are already back—" he couldn't even finish the sentence when he was interrupted.

"—No Louie! What if something went wrong? What if one of us didn't make it or got hurt!? Those plans of yours only led us to more danger! . . . You're grounded! Forget your plans and forget Louie Inc—" she said angrily, pointing to the stairs, making the youngest simply put on his hoodie and look at her angrily.

"—I wonder who I could have gotten it from. . ." he said angrily, moving away from the others straight to his room.

The rest remained in an abysmal, uncomfortable, and tense silence after that scolding. They had nothing to say to each other. On the other hand, far from Killmotor, in an institute on the outskirts of Duckburg, the sailor was there. The white and refined walls were spectacular, only a little smaller than his uncle's mansion. Although the house and the institute were in his name, he didn't usually spend much time in that place. For many years he used to do a small job to keep everything active and have a salary in a certain way to take care of his little ones when they were barely babies.

He searched among his things, things from more than a decade ago, diaries and many small treasures that were in boxes. He searched everywhere until he found his old diary from when he was barely a kid of about 14 years old. It brought him so much nostalgia that he couldn't avoid a smile for the memories. He used to believe that that was his lifestyle, that maybe he was a full-fledged adventurer, only that he preferred to pursue the historical rather than the fantastic, and maybe he was right. But he couldn't make assumptions. He didn't know what Everett wanted to talk about or even if he was still on his journeys. He couldn't get his hopes up.

"—Uncle Donald! We're here!" a female cry could be heard from the front door.

"—I'm here, girls!" he returned the greeting, leaving the room, wiping the dust off his hands with a cloth.

The girls arrived with a smile. They were three girls with dark blonde hair. They were young university students and students of the institute itself. They arrived, leaving their suitcases to one side and hugging the older one with enthusiasm.

"—Hey! How are the three of you? How was your trip to your mother's house? How is your aunt too?" he said with a smile, looking at them, although at the end with a small blush.

"—Hahaha! Mom is fine, a little sad that we left and Aunt Daisy is still on her trip in Yemen!" the youngest, June, said, laughing a little at her caretaker.

"—Oh, I'm glad you're well then. I, well, I was looking at some things. I'm glad your train wasn't delayed by the rain," the sailor said, taking the girls' suitcases, helping them carry their things up.

As they walked, they told him a little about their trip home, each one excited to continue learning about history at the institute and how the holidays had been great for them. They also asked many things about how the older one had been doing. They had a great time talking, they even ordered some food to be delivered.

"—So you're going to see the famous Everett you told us so much about!? OH HOW EXCITING! Maybe you'll finally tell us more stories! EVEN BETTER, LET'S LIVE ONE! AND—" the duckling in yellow and pink who wore glasses shouted excitedly. You could tell the joy in how she spoke.

"—Woah, woah, April, calm down! HAHAHA, I don't even think it will be like that, and much less would I take you to that kind of thing! Your mother and your aunt would kill me. . ." the sailor said, scratching the back of his neck.

"—Aww, but you can judge us for all the things you've done, Uncle Donald! You can't expect us not to be excited!"

The sailor looked at them with a smile. He couldn't deny it, a small part of him was also happy to be able to be with his old family, although he would never admit that he saw them as family, of course. But who knows, maybe he would finally discover what happened to Sir Francis Coote Duck, and with just this ring he could continue with that search he wanted so much when he was young. But everything remained a

maybe.

Who knows what's next.

Chapter Text

The light began to stream through the window of his room, one of the smallest in the entire institute but the most cozy. The soft scent of cinnamon from a candle flooded the space like a cloud that refused to leave. All of it together made the brown-haired man slowly open his sleepy eyes, awake enough to stand up and stretch. He saw the clock next to his bed; it read 7:12.

He yawned, marking the start of his day, and walked calmly to the bathroom for his routine. He got dressed in something simpler than usual: a white t-shirt, brown pants, and a button-up shirt that resembled his typical black sailor uniform, just unbuttoned with the tie off.

With all that ready, he went down in silence, reaching the kitchen where he was met with the cold morning breeze. There was still some mist, which made him cup his hands to his mouth, giving them some warm vapor. A few minutes later, he started cooking a simple but delicious omelet with some toast, just for him. He left some more varied options for the girls, causing time to fly without him noticing. It was 10 in the morning.

"Damn it," he muttered in a light whisper.

Annoyed at his lack of self-control with his time, he grabbed his phone and his keys, both for his home and his car. He left a note for his recently arrived roommates to let them know where he was and that there was food in the kitchen. He quickly went down the stairs and got into the car, starting to drive back to the city toward the mansion on Killmotor Hill. He didn't know what he was going to tell his family. He hadn't shown up all night and part of the morning. What lie could he come up with? Though he didn't think he even needed to lie. Usually, they just didn't ask. Someone with a simple appearance will always be thought of as simple.

He arrived 30 minutes later, grateful that traffic wasn't too bad after the storm the other day, which had been a warning for a potential hurricane. He was glad it didn't amount to anything more than a slightly heavy rain. The door opened on its own, which he found odd, as Mrs. Beakley always answered and didn't just open it right away. He decided to think that maybe it was a strange moment where he was lucky, or maybe it was his ring.

He parked in front of the mansion, unable to shake the idea that maybe the ring was what gave him good luck. The idea was crazy and far-fetched, but there was always a "maybe" in the equation that kept him staring blankly for hours—or at least it would have been if the only thing that greeted him when he touched the door wasn't a robot that scanned him from top to bottom. "Direct family member found. Access permitted," he heard the robot's voice say, as he carefully walked past it, wondering many things. Because of this, his guard didn't go down, and with some suspicion, he decided to look elsewhere.

"Umm... hello!? IS ANYBODY HOME!?" He ended up coughing from the shouting; his voice was more than a mess at this point.

He walked carefully, going up the stairs and stopping at the end when he heard a familiar, very familiar, voice. "Louie...?" was all he could think as he stopped to listen.

"OH, COME ON! PLEASE, JUST TURN THE CAMERA!" he yelled, grabbing the robot while pleading with his brother to show him a bit of that mountain.

"Oh s-sure b-brother!" The connection was bad; he was trying to explain something, but it kept cutting out. The only thing he could hear was, "Look, Mom! It's the king of the bums!" and then the call was cut, leaving the youngest boy looking at his reflection, surprised and angry.

"ARGH! THIS CAN'T GET ANY WORSE! I need to think—" He had barely said that when the robot sounded a small alarm, saying, "Plan detected," and started playing a video.

The video was simple. Della explained the reasons why he needed to stop, that he needed to think that his plans could bring bad things if he didn't take them seriously, that he had to learn about the morality of them, and that if he continued with those plans, he couldn't be part of the family. That caused a slight pain in his chest. Hearing that from anyone, like his brothers or Uncle Scrooge, wouldn't have hurt, but from his mother? That really hurt, though it also made someone else angry.

Any of the reactions from both boys were interrupted by a loud bang that made the robot activate another alarm. With that, some laser beams blocked the door, and the robot left through the window to "defend" the mansion.

"HEY! WAIT! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME HERE!" the youngest yelled, watching the robot go down but get easily destroyed by the villains.

"LOUIE!" the sailor yelled from the door, making the black-haired boy turn around instantly, his eyes lighting up.

"Uncle Donald!" he said, approaching, but his uncle's hand stopped him.

He watched as his uncle grabbed the shield, apparently stolen from the armor at the entrance, and used it to hit the panels that created the lasers, deactivating them and freeing the poor boy from his prison. Immediately, the young boy's small arms hugged his uncle tightly, and he happily accepted the hug from the younger one until he heard the butler's voice and a loud bang. It was obvious they had defeated him.

"Louie... stay here, okay? I can handle them..." the older man said, determined, leaving the youngest there, zipping up his green jacket and finishing with a small pat on his head, messing up his hair.

Louie was going to protest, but the voices of the villains made him hesitate. He had seen his uncle hit the bad guys before, but he didn't think he could beat all of them. That's why his nerves completely paralyzed him, watching his uncle go out to face the whole group, to talk first, of course.

"I'm afraid the family isn't home... but you can make an appointment for another day," the sailor said with a smile, looking at the group of various criminals and some millionaires.

"What do you mean, Scrooge isn't here?! Glomgold, did you even check if they were going to be here today?!" Beagle mom said, angry with the millionaire.

More of the enemies started arguing with the shorter man for his lack of organization, confronting his plan until he decided to defend himself with a simple lie.

"O-of course I checked! He's probably covering for them while Scrooge does something to win!" the old millionaire said, causing the sailor some displeasure at his accusations, though if that were the case, he would do it.

"... Glomgold is right about that... he could be hiding something," unlike the rest, Magica's tone was menacing, as she held up what looked like a purple medallion, the same one that had expelled the butler.

He noticed that it was giving her some magic, as her skin was a little green, but not entirely. This made him alert with her. He looked around for a moment, seeing that the only thing he had close was a chair.

"SEE! He's nervous! I'm telling you the truth!" the old man yelled, surprising the sailor and putting the villains on the defensive.

Not many seconds passed in silence before the sailor grabbed the chair and smashed it over the millionaire's head, grabbing him when the witch tried to throw a spell at him. This gave the brown-haired man time to slide toward her, pulling her forward and creating handcuffs with his arm, using the same rays to hit the rest.

The attack turned two of the Beagles into helpless animals, which made most of them start to leave. With that, he let go of the witch, who threatened to hex him if he touched her again, and then left with a smoke bomb that clearly didn't hide her running to the side. With a spin, only the old millionaire remained, who was unconsciously pulled by the sailor to the entrance, leaving him there to his own devices.

He went in, dusting himself off a bit. That went much better than he had planned, although the house was a bit trashed, but only the entrance, which was the good part. In that small lapse of silence where he was looking at all the damage, he heard the frantic footsteps of sneakers hitting the carpet, which made the sailor see the young boy running toward him, giving him another hug.

"There... I told you I could!" the older one said, hugging the hooded boy who was seeking affection in his uncle's arms. "But... what were you doing here alone? Where is everyone else?"

"Well... let's just say I was grounded... But I didn't want to, I—" The boy explained and also defended himself slightly, hoping not to be scolded again.

The older man just sighed and patted his nephew's head, smiling a little.

"Explain it in the kitchen, okay? I'm going to make you some hot chocolate while we wait for the rest to get here."

The idea seemed to be accepted by the youngest, who celebrated in his mind for his uncle's arrival. Now he wouldn't have to be grounded; he wouldn't have to listen to reproach from an absent mother who wanted to act as if she had watched him grow up.

An hour passed since the sailor had a serious talk with the youngest. He accepted that what he did was dangerous and that doing things without thinking about the consequences was a fatal flaw, but he also assured him of many things, like if his passion was making plans, he would support him, and he assured him that he would always be a part of the family, planner or not. It was a tender moment sharing words with the youngest.

He heard the front door open along with some voices, followed by a scolding in the air, "WHAT HAPPENED HERE!?" from the old millionaire and the aviator in unison. That was the sailor's signal that it was time to talk and also explain the attack.

When he went out, he found the angry butler explaining to his uncle what happened and how he was expelled, although he couldn't remember how it ended because he wasn't really there. So he just turned to the youngest boy.

"Relax, okay? I'll handle it," he said with a smile, calming the nerves of the youngest who hadn't finished his hot chocolate yet.

The sailor walked calmly, leaving completely, which made the younger ones notice him and announce his arrival.

"UNCLE DONALD!" the red-haired one said first, and then the blue-haired one, running toward their uncle.

"Hello, kids! Glad you're okay. I see you had fun," the sailor said, running his hand through both of their hair, messing it up.

"It was so great! We went to Candy Mountain! And everything was so—" Dewey yelled, excitedly telling his story.

"SWEET!" the only girl of the children complemented his story, raising her arms happily.

On the other hand, the adults were looking at the place a bit, which made the old man approach the sailor, looking for an answer as to why there were burns on his house's ceiling.

"Lad, what happened here!?" he said, raising his cane and looking at him angrily, though not with him precisely.

"Hmm, some of the 'bad guys,' you know the ones who want to destroy you, came, made a mess, and left when they saw you weren't here," he said without much emotion, telling the truth, though he didn't mention that it was he who had scared them away, of course.

He could only watch as the duck got angry about having to pay for repairs, but he sighed and just smiled, walking toward the children, celebrating their successful adventure. The children ran off toward the kitchen, repeating the cheer of "food! food!" They seemed hungry, which was surprising given where they had just come from, but he didn't pay attention and saw his sister walking toward him with a smile.

"Donnie! So glad you're here!" She hugged him as was their custom after an adventure, looking happy. "Hey, it's weird that you didn't get here yesterday? Did you go to a friend's house? I would have preferred for you to stay here because of the storm... Although some things happened, mm."

"Oh... yeah, I stayed with a friend. The storm caught me during a small meeting... Speaking of which, I... want to talk to you about Louie," he said, looking a little serious, though not so much as to say he was angry.

Before the aviator could respond to his words, one of the children's voices could be heard. "MOM, LOUIE IS DRINKING HOT CHOCOLATE WHILE HE'S GROUNDED!" Dewey came out of the hallway, pointing at his brother angrily, since he wasn't allowed to have it even though he wasn't supposed to be grounded.

"Uh, Dewey, I—" The aviator was going to respond to the black-haired boy. She wanted to prepare a response, probably to scold Louie for eating sweets when he was supposed to be grounded, but the words wouldn't come out.

"I gave him the chocolate, Dewey... There's some for you and the others in the fridge. Just ask Beakley to warm it up, okay? I need to talk to your mom. For now, no one is grounded," the tallest of the three said, surprising the two hyperactive ones, one angrier than the other.

But neither of them could argue, as the sailor dragged his sister to the patio to talk, listening to some of her complaints, like him just leaving them like that. They arrived at the other side of the pool, where they were hidden by the large boat, wet from the rain the day before.

"What do you mean the grounding is off, Donald! I'm his mother! I should be the one to make that decision!" she said, angry with him for mentioning that without confirming anything.

"Look, Della... I understand you're angry, yeah... But both you and I know that the punishment you gave was very harsh... even for you to give. Della, how could you tell him not to plan? It's like I'm telling you to stop flying a plane with the blackmail that if you don't, you're not part of the family?" the sailor said in a calm but somewhat angry tone, gesturing at her and then toward the house where his nephews were.

Della opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out again, which made her look down at her boots, stained with mud from the patio, as she had been rough with her steps, unlike her brother, whose shoes looked immaculate with only a bit of mud in small parts. This made the aviator's eyes well up, but she didn't know why? Why did she want to cry?

"Della... tell me what's wrong with you? You don't say things like that... and even though you spent a decade on the moon, I still know you well. You would never tell one of your children that they don't belong in the family, would you?" the sailor said, a little more understandingly, placing his hand on her shoulder.

The eyes of the shorter one began to get wetter, threatening to cry. She closed them tightly, finally letting out some tears, covering her face with her hands, as a weak sob could be heard.

"I-I... I don't know... I said things I didn't mean. I thought that if I let go of that, he wouldn't follow the same steps as me! If he doesn't plan and think about his brothers... he won't be like me," his sister's sobbing voice came out, leaving the atmosphere tense and sad.

The brown-haired man's blue eyes widened, listening to the words carefully. Now everything made sense, and not seeing it coming made him angry at himself, making him run his hands through his hair, pushing it back, letting two strands fall forward that were always there because they were shorter than the rest.

"Oh, Della... why didn't you tell me sooner?" the sailor said, now wrapping his arms around her, which she quickly accepted. "I understand what you're going through... none of this is easy, not for you or for them... but you're the adult; you have to know that your choices affect others more than they might... I'm not blaming you, but just let me know if you need help, or you could even seek help to improve at this whole mom thing."

The comforting words hung in the air while the aviator's tears were wiped away. Her twin's smile comforted her more than the words themselves. She was grateful that he understood. Maybe even more than being a mom was complicated.

"Thanks, Donald... I'll talk to Louie. I hope he understands... I... I'm grateful that you understand what I feel... and you know that I'm also here for you now, even if it doesn't seem like it sometimes," the aviator said, now with her usual animated smile, more so than before.

"Ha... you're welcome and be—" He didn't finish the sentence when an alarm on his cell phone started to ring, making his eyes go blank.

He looked down at his pocket, pulling out his cell phone with the slightly broken screen, seeing the alarm and the time, "5:50," and the alarm said "you're late." This made the sailor's eyes widen.

"Oh, crap!" was all that came out of his mouth before he put his cell phone away to run, though he stopped dead in his tracks, remembering that Della was still there. "Uh, I have to go see a friend about something for work... I'll be back in an hour, maybe two. Take care, Della, and remember, do what we talked about!"

He said, then finally ran, going around the house to get to the front where his car was parked, getting in right away. If he hurried, maybe he wouldn't be 40 minutes late.

He arrived at the coffee shop in less time than he thought, but it was still late. He walked slowly through the tables, looking for the person he was looking for. Some waiters approached to take him to his seat. He gave all of them the same answer, "I'm looking for someone," which made his quest to find that person continue. It didn't take long until he finally found the table. It was the last one in the back. There was Everett with his black hair full of gray strands, a semi-casual green shirt, beige pants, a cigar in his hand, and a book in the other.

The sailor's eyes lit up, feeling his body being pushed toward the table by nostalgia, walking faster than before until he reached the table.

"What a pleasure... I thought you were going to stand me up, kid," he said with a wry, amused smile, putting down the book but not the cigar.

"Ha—yeah, you know my luck with getting to events, Evy," the sailor said with a smile, sitting right in front of him, expectantly, taking off the baseball-style cap he was wearing.

"Ha, yeah! Always with that bad luck of yours... tell me! How have you been? How have these last 8 years of your life been, huh?" the older man said, looking at the one he saw and still sees with a lot of affection, practically like family.

"Oh, well... they've been... a lot of things, really, wow... Um, I managed to graduate from college... I have a job at the Quackmore Institute, um, my sister! Della, remember her? She finally came back! We found her!" he said animatedly, starting to talk about everything that had happened, or at least the most important things.

"Seriously? That's great! A lot of people aren't that lucky, son. That's what you call lucky," he said, taking a puff of his cigar with a mocking smile, making the sailor roll his eyes.

They both stayed there with two cups of black coffee, talking about their lost years, which made time pass quite quickly. Donald didn't realize it was already 7, but he could really stay a little longer, so why fight it?

"Hey, tell me... you have that look you always give when you have something planned... besides, you sent me this!" he said, pulling out the ring for everyone to see, showing his confusion. "How did you find it? I thought it was lost after that day..."

"Ah, kid... I didn't think we'd get to this part of the conversation so soon... well, after you retired, the guys and I started investigating. Raider found the ring, and we managed to make a plan to finally make Marlowe come out..."

The other's words hit him like a bucket of cold water on his back, making his eyes open wide, but his pupils dilated as he thought about it, grabbing the ring in his hands a little tighter.

"Look, Don, I didn't come here to tell you to do it. I came to tell you that there's finally an option after so many years. It's your decision, of course, to try to find him. I wan t you to know that I'll follow you to the ends of the earth if you want me to."

The sailor watched him in silence, analyzing his words and looking at the ring while his mind debated what to do. Should he go out and look for the treasure of his life—the only one that kept him going for so many years—or not accept it and stay away from adventures forever? But what was stopping him? He no longer had to take care of his three little ones; with their mother back, they would be more than happy. His job? He didn't love it that much either. Maybe his female "niece-like" companions? His mind was simply fighting over whether to know or not know.

The only thing that made him shift his eyes from the ring was the sound of his phone receiving a message on the table. It was a conversation completely different from the current one, but it felt like a direct message for his dilemma. It was from his sister; it was simple and direct: "just do it ;)". The message reflected in his eyes as if his soul was seeing it instead of himself, causing his expression to change to a serious one, with a smile following after.

"They say... the best comebacks are the unexpected ones... tell me, what do you have in mind?" the sailor said, putting the ring on a chain around his neck with a smile, surprising the older man.

"Ha! That's the Donald I know! Well, the plan would be thi s."

Chapter Text

The dark sky was full of stars that night, creating a beautiful nocturnal atmosphere. The car, though a bit old and small, was taking the sailor straight home. It was late. He had left the café hours ago with new numbers and new thoughts—many of them filled with a nervous guilt. On the other hand, there were others ecstatic about the idea of an adventure of the same caliber as the one the adventurer Donald Duck had achieved.

He watched impatiently as the car in front of him, like him, waited for the red light to turn green so they could continue on their way. His finger tapped softly on the steering wheel, showing his nervousness about everything going through his head. He had more than one decision to make. He knew what it meant to return to this world; his death was just around the corner. It wasn't like any other adventure where Scrooge and his little ones went.

He knew, but in a way, that nervousness was also excitement. The idea of feeling free again, of exploring, challenging history books, and above all, removing that thorn that never left, thrilled him as if it were destiny. The light changed to green, showing that it was time to move forward, or perhaps that he was on the right path. Either way, the sailor already knew what he wanted. Now all he had to do was think of a good-sounding excuse.

Thanks to the time, he didn't get stuck in traffic again, so he quickly arrived at the mansion. Parking carefully, he remained for a few seconds staring into space, thinking about what he was going to do. He knew his uncle was waiting for him, awake, because of the light in his office, but he didn't understand why. He waited a few more seconds, repeating to himself, "It will be easy," before getting out of the car and walking to the house, making sure his collar wasn't visible.

He opened the door carefully and closed it the same way, turning around, but he quickly jumped, startled to see his elderly uncle's serious face. He brought a hand to his chest for a moment but quickly regained his composure.

"Uncle Scrooge, what are you doing up so la—"

"That's what I'm asking you, lad... Why did you come home at this hour without a word?" the adventurer said angrily, giving the sailor a small sense of déjà vu.

"I just went out with some friends to grab a drink and do some things... Besides, I told Della," he said calmly, walking to the kitchen as he explained.

"Yes, she said you'd be gone for a few hours, but I didn't expect you to go out with friends and come back at 2 in the morning like it's nothing! Lad, forgive me for bursting your bubble, but you're not a teenager anymore!" the billionaire said, walking a bit fast to follow him, his cane tapping on the floor.

The sailor simply poured himself a glass of juice. It wasn't the time to drink a cup of coffee, even though he wished for one. He just listened to his uncle scold him, though he found it very ironic that he was doing so when he was already an adult over 30.

"Yes, I arrived a bit later than planned, but I'm here now. I don't understand why that makes you so angry? Aren't I an adult already? Besides... it wasn't just about drinking; I was also talking about something important," he said, annoyed that the other thought he had simply gone out to party, though he didn't see a problem with that either.

He saw the billionaire simply rub a hand across his forehead, calming any trace of anger. This surprised the younger man a bit, as to his knowledge, these conversations lasted for hours.

"You're right, you're an adult now. However, I'm just asking you to let us know, not for me... but for them," he said, glancing toward the outside of the room.

That made the sailor close his eyes with some force and turn his head up, understanding the indirect message with a bit of weariness. Now he wondered what he was doing. It was obvious those kids still had a certain attachment to him.

"Even if they looked happy with their mother... you know the process is slow... Next time, let us know you're coming back in the early morning. Who do you think opened the door for you, huh!?" he said, getting angry again, which irked the sailor with the sudden scolding, but now he found it more amusing than anything else.

"Yeah... speaking of that... I was talking to a friend and I managed to get a good job... The bad thing is that it's at the new Quackmore Institute... with lodging and everything," the sailor said, watching his uncle carefully, scratching the back of his neck as he took a large gulp of his juice, waiting for a response.

The silence that remained in the air was heavy. He felt his shoulders drop, waiting for a response from the other, even just something to break that horrible, awkward silence that had settled in the air.

"So... you're moving? ... Mmm," was all the elder said, looking at him with some confusion.

"Yes... something like that... the job will be a bit difficult; I might not come back for a few months... but I'll be earning well and I'll call a lot if the problem is the kids," the sailor said, anticipating any questions about them that he knew would make him back out. "Besides, it could help the kids focus on having a relationship with their mother without me being in the middle."

He turned away to avoid seeing his uncle's face and began to clean the glass he had dirtied by drinking the juice, hoping the other wouldn't respond in a bad way. To be honest, he didn't have the time or energy to be scolded again, but the only thing he felt was a hand on his shoulder.

"Well, you should have said that before... I like that you're finally settling down, lad! A job and a house all at once, that's a complete achievement worthy of a McDuck," the billionaire said proudly, showing the joy he felt for his nephew, surprising him in turn.

"Oh, yeah, yeah... I'll probably tell them tomorrow at lunch... so I better go get some rest... Hehe, I have to pack and stuff," he said with a slightly nervous smile, walking out of the kitchen.

Now, walking alone to his room, his gaze became more serious. He didn't know how his uncle would react if he told him that all of this was a cruel lie to go after a mystery from years ago that had condemned him for a long time. Yes, they would definitely beat him up if they found out.

He entered his room in silence, noticing there was a small green lump on his bed, which brought a faint smile to his face. It seemed the conversation with Della had gone well, because if it hadn't, he would have already packed his bags and had all his things here. He simply lay down carefully on his bed, looking at the ceiling, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time, slowly falling into the clutches of deep sleep.

"GOOD MOOOORNING!" a female shout came out of nowhere, making both of them jump out of bed—one just sat up, and the other fell completely off of it. Surprisingly, it wasn't the sailor who fell.

"Whoa, Louie? Are you okay?" his older brother in blue said, smiling slightly at the mockery.

"I've had better days..." the one in green said angrily, covering himself with the blanket on the floor.

The blonde's giggle made him uncover himself, finding the girl's pink bow. She helped him stand up, unlike his brother, who was laughing at the fall.

"Ugh, what time is it anyway?" the sailor said, lying back down on the bed, annoyed.

"It's 7:30, Uncle Donald!" the girl said animatedly, holding a sleeping Louie in her arms with half his body on the floor and the other half in her arms.

"Uncle Scrooge asked us to wake you guys up. He's taking us on a big adventure today, a short one, he said. We'll be back for lunch. Oh, and he said to wake you up, Uncle Donald; he mentioned something about an important matter of yours."

The brown-haired man's eyes shot open as if reality had suddenly hit him. He stood up in a flash, almost falling off the bed if he hadn't done a clumsy somersault, which was an easy feat to accomplish. He ran straight to the bathroom, leaving both kids looking at their uncle in surprise, more for his hurry than for his maneuver.

"Oh, Louie, come on, you're a bit heavy!" the girl said, tired of carrying the boy to wake him up, and let him fall back to the floor with her sore arms.

It wasn't long before the three children went downstairs, leaving the sailor's temporary room completely empty and a bit messy. He came out of the bathroom, looking around with his usual sailor suit on, throwing the previous garment into the laundry. He looked at himself in the mirror for a moment, noticing his hair was messier than usual, a slight but clear reminder that he had once promised he would not return to the path he was about to take.

But with a surprising calm for the character he was, he took off his hat, smoothing his hair back the way he always wore it. The difference was that now some rebellious strands stuck out and were not tamed. He simply adjusted his hat, looking seriously at the ring on his chest. He was decided, because after all,

Promises have a time limit when you don't say "never" beforehand, and he had only promised that he would leave it behind to take care of the little ones. Now that he wasn't even their legal guardian, his promise was already broken, so what did it matter?

Determined, he took off the hat, messing up his hair with a smile and even throwing it on the bed, leaving the room. His steps were strong but not exaggerated. Usually, he would hit a door or slip on water that wasn't there, but it simply didn't happen. He easily reached the living room, where his sister was on the sofa with the kids, some maps, and the TV on.

He greeted the others carefully with a smile and then left the mansion straight for the boat in the pool, entering carefully so as not to break anything. There were already some boxes inside, a small gift from one of his friends. He sighed, rolling up his sleeves, and began to put his things in the boxes. He had never realized he had so little until now.

The hours passed so quickly while he put everything in boxes that he didn't even realize it was already noon. He was still there, arranging boxes, old memories. His clothes weren't there, but they would probably be the last things to go. In total, there were only 10 boxes, which was pathetic for a move. He could take everything to his new home in two trips, which would definitely save him a good amount of money.

"Uncle Donald...?"

A voice made him jump, and he turned around to see a small figure in a green hoodie next to another, whose most prominent feature was a pink bow. Both were looking at the older man with confusion, with some anger from one side and nervousness from the other.

"Why are you packing your things? Are you... moving to the mansion!?" the girl said with some excitement, hiding her clear nerves.

"Uh, I... well..." his usual hoarse and hard-to-understand voice came out more clearly due to his nervousness; he didn't think it would be so difficult to answer. "Well... no, Webby..."

The silence that followed was deathly, a bit awkward and fearful of what would be said next. What could happen next?

"...Where are you going?" the silence was broken by Louie's words, clearer than even he expected.

"...I'm moving... I have a new job... at the Quackmore Institute... It's too far to go back and forth every day," he said carefully, waiting for the little ones' reaction with sadness.

"...W-well, at least you'll call, right? You'll visit us, right?" Rosita said, approaching the sailor with a small smile.

"Of course, Webby, I'll call often and come whenever I can!" he smiled at the little girl, lightly ruffling her hair.

The little girl turned to her companion with a smile that quickly disappeared when she saw him. There he was, the "youngest" of the triplets, with his hood up as he usually did, but now covering most of his face with his own black hair, looking at the floor with his hands clenched into fists. He only turned to the others when he felt their eyes on him.

"Louie, you know you can tell me how you feel about this... and it's not like you to act this way. What's wrong?..." the sailor said, approaching the dark-haired boy and kneeling to his level.

"...I can't believe you're leaving... without us? You're just going to the other side of the city like it's nothing? No... I... I want to go with you!" the boy said, moving his hands as he explained, looking expectantly at his uncle for a "yes" in response.

"What!? Louie! You can't just come live with me... What about your brothers? With Uncle Scrooge? With your mother?" the brown-haired man said, confused by the proposal.

"I'm sure Huey and Dewey will be fine. Uncle Scrooge won't even comment! And... Della might complain, but it's what I want!" he said with some anger.

The sailor watched the little one in silence, which was a bit uncomfortable for the only one not involved in the conversation. She was holding her shirt tightly, playing with a strand of her hair. She shouldn't get involved in the conversation at all!

"I, um... I'll just leave you two alone," the girl said, finally listening to her own thoughts, and left the boat for the mansion again, leaving the tense atmosphere that had been inside it.

"...Louie, tell me... Did you talk to your mother yesterday?" the older man said, sitting on the sofa and giving it a small pat for the boy to sit down as well.

"...Yes, I talked to my mom... She apologized, but... I'm not like Dewey or Huey. I don't... I don't think I'm ready to spend time with her... And I don't want you to leave either!... Not just when... I need Uncle Donald close," he said, curling into a ball on the furniture, grabbing his legs and hugging his knees to his chest, with his eyes fixed on the ground.

"...Louie, I understand how you feel... It's hard to accept something new, but pushing it away won't help you... You should get to know her more... maybe you even have something in common," he said with a smile, putting his arm around the smaller one and giving him affection.

"...What if I stay with you for a while? Just a few weeks! To clear things up! And then I'll come back! I just don't want to right now! Please," the younger one said pleadingly, clasping his hands together as he looked at his uncle with his big, bright green eyes.

The brown-haired man watched him for a few seconds, ending with his free hand on his head. He knew this could be bad. He knew it might not end well. He didn't think one of the kids would come. Maybe he could postpone the plan for the time he stayed. These thoughts made him sigh and smile at the little one.

"Okay, just a few weeks, but you can come back whenever you want. If you get there and you're bored and you just want to come back, you just say so!" the sailor said, ruffling the younger one's hair a lot, making him laugh.

"It's a deal!" he said, moving the older man's hand away and shaking it as if it were an extremely serious and formal agreement.

"Now you have to figure out how to tell your mother when I give them the news... because I don't think either she or Scrooge will react very well," the sailor said with a teasing smile, leaving the smaller one surprised.

He could only hear some complaints following him from behind as they walked to the house. The table was already set, which meant the news was very close. This made him nervous but also determined that everything was going to be fine.

But it's

Donald Duck, isn't it? Things never turn out well in his world.

Chapter Text

Silence

Silence. That's all there was at the large table. Everyone was eating without a word, which was strange. There was a tension that the sailor, at least, didn't understand. His nerves were his only obstacle to speaking. How could he say it? How could he tell 11-year-olds that he was moving? Even worse, how could he deal with his sister? That was another challenge. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't realize his foot was bouncing so fast it was hitting the person sitting next to him.

Unfortunately for him, that was the eldest of them all—the old millionaire who had supported his idea without much of a fight, probably happy that he was leaving, or so the sailor thought. The man simply gave him a small nudge, bringing him back to reality before clearing his throat, drawing the attention of everyone else at the table.

"Well... kids, I know today's adventure wasn't what we hoped for, but... your uncle has some important news."

"What adventure?" The question slipped out nervously, stopping just short of the full sentence.

"I SAID important," his uncle interrupted again, causing the sailor to swallow his words and look at the rest of the group.

A small, awkward smile came across his face. He gently scratched the back of his neck, carefully choosing his words, even messing up his hair in the process. This action put the pilot on high alert, and the one in the cap also caught the movement with the same concern.

"Mmhg, well, as you know, I'm always looking for work. And I've been looking for one lately, and I got a job at the New Quackmore Institute... which is on the other side of the city," he said, delivering the first piece of news in the most careful voice possible, so his throat wouldn't fail him mid-explanation.

"The other side of the city?! But Uncle Donald, isn't that really far? How will you get there in time?" the one in the cap asked worriedly, grabbing his shirt, a sign of his nervousness.

"Right, I don't think even the best car could make it. Though maybe a super car! But where would you get one?" the one with the tuft of hair asked, confused, looking at his uncle and then at his mother, who nodded in agreement.

"Well... they've given me a place to live. I have a place to stay, and the position is really good, though it might make me have to leave, if I really want the job... I mean," the sailor scratched his chin, another sign of his nerves.

The pilot looked at him, surprised, glancing between her plate, her brother, and then their uncle, who simply looked away, showing he knew about this idea and wouldn't stop him from leaving.

"B-but you can't leave! I... you... we JUST REUNITED! I," she raised her voice but then looked at the kids, calming down a bit. "Donnie! You need to think about this more! I thought we could go on adventures all together! As a family. Besides, you have a room in the mansion; I don't think any home can compare to this!"

The pilot's words only made the sailor feel terrible, thinking that the reason he was leaving was completely different, but he had to! For some reason, though, his mouth opened, but no sound came out, as if his throat had suddenly shut down.

"Ms. Della... you know Donald has always liked his freedom... Oh, that's not... it's not like he's leaving the country or anything. We can visit him whenever you ask," the housekeeper said from the side, watching the whole conversation from a distance.

"Right, girl, Donald did it before, and you had a great time when you visited him, so I see this as a good thing... one less person making expenses! And someone who gets what he wants. Everybody wins," the scrooge said, finally smiling at his nephew.

The sailor's blue eyes met his uncle's, making his gaze fall with a nervous smile. It was strange to hear him remember things about himself, but he didn't deny them or let them go. He was very happy to hear it.

"Ugh... fine, but you have to call often!" the woman said with a smile, finally accepting the idea, knowing how happy that certain freedom she didn't fully understand would make her brother.

"WE HAVE TO HAVE A PARTY AT UNCLE DONALD'S NEW HOUSE!" the one in blue yelled, making the sailor jump.

"DEWEY! I HAVEN'T EVEN MOVED YET, WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!" he said, worried about the idea but only hearing a "YEAH!" next to him. "DELLA, YOU'RE NOT HELPING!"

The laughter after that was comfortable and sweet, but there were two people who hadn't really spoken. They were quieter than they should have been: the little girl with the bow and the young man in green. One was noticeably nervous, looking away, while the girl gave him quiet encouragement. Being the only one who knew about Louie's plan, it was surprising that she supported it so much.

"Uh... Mom... I wanted to talk to you about something... since Uncle Donald is moving... I wanted to ask if I could go stay with him for a few days, maybe a month or two?" the one in green said with a nervous smile, surprising most of the people at the table.

"Y-you what?! Louie, why? You already knew?!" the pilot said with many, many questions, looking between her brother and her confused son.

The atmosphere soon turned into a slight fight between the siblings, talking at the same time, asking why he was leaving and the adults scolding and asking Donald why Louie knew in advance if even the eldest had only found out yesterday, questions that didn't even let him answer.

"QUIET!" the one with the bow yelled, covering her mouth at the end. "Why don't you let Louie continue, okay?" she said with a nervous smile because of the looks she was getting.

"...Thanks, Webby... Listen, Mom, I know you can say no and all! But you yourself said you would give me my own space for all of this, and the truth is, I want space from all of this. You know, adventures and stuff?" the one in green said nervously, waiting for his mother's answer.

The brunette just looked at her son, a little surprised, pursing her lips in a small mental debate. She looked at her brother, then at the youngest, sighing and putting her hand to her temple, watching the youngest until her mouth finally opened.

Louie was packing his things in a suitcase with a big smile—clothes for specifically three months, more than he should have, but everyone knew he was an excellent negotiator. Even his uncle had reluctantly accepted, but he had accepted! So he was packing his bags more than happily until he heard a knock on the door. He turned around to see the three adults and a small figure he didn't pay attention to, seeing the serious look on the elders' faces.

"Louie, we came to a small agreement... we told you we had conditions when it came to sending you with your Uncle Donald, and as a family, we agreed that someone will accompany you," the eldest said with seriousness, surprising the one in green, who was about to protest.

To his own surprise, his mother stepped aside, revealing the young girl in pink, who looked embarrassed, with a suitcase at her side as full as his.

"After what happened today, Webby insisted that she also deserved a punishment... even though we already told her it wasn't her fault that ancient city was torn down..." the pilot said, a little sad that someone else was leaving the house.

"Beakley agreed that she should go to learn from the institute. It's always good to learn, and she's also going to watch over you. Even if I don't like it, you're still grounded in a way, champ," the sailor said, making the one in green's face fall a little, annoyed.

"Well... this is better than if it were... I don't know, Dewey?" he said, thinking about how his brother would be pestering him just for fun. He loved his brother, yes, but they had different energy levels, though Webby also...

The sailor took both children's already-closed suitcases and walked to the car, carefully loading their things into his somewhat old car. He had already moved his things before lunch started, so there were only three suitcases in the trunk. He watched as the kids said goodbye to the others. Webby promised she would call every day, and Louie... well, he promised to say hello, though from a distance, he could see him accept a hug from his mother. This made the sailor smile. It was a small thing, but that's how relationships started, little by little.

It didn't take long for the car to start moving with both children in the back. Webby was asking several questions about the place or his job, normal questions, while the black-haired boy, on the other hand, put on headphones, listening to music calmly. It didn't take long for the young girl to lean against the other door and fall asleep for a while.

The sailor glanced at the kids, still wondering how he got to this place, how two of the little ones had grabbed onto his sleeves, although one of them was placed there by accident—one out of fondness, and the other out of feelings. His mind immediately went back to the plan he had, and as if it were destiny, his phone rang. He took it carefully, always watching the road.

"Hello?" the brunette said, waiting for a response.

"Kid! I have great news... Raider managed to get the plan started today! Exciting, isn't it?" the elder said on the other end of the line, surprising the sailor.

"...Tonight?!... Are you sure?" the brunette said carefully, taking advantage of the fact that neither of the two children should be listening.

"Of course! He managed to get the wolf out of his den, ready for the deal with great anticipation. It's now or never, kid," he could be heard puffing on his cigar on the other end of the line, which was surprising.

"...Y-yes... I've already moved in for good... Though I have some... little problems... I'll tell you when I get there," the sailor said, a little annoyed, hanging up before he could even hear the other voice back, throwing the phone to the side.

When he stopped at a traffic light, his head fell into one of his hands, angry at fate. How was he going to do this? How would he pull off the famous plan with two kids to take care of? His anger was evident on his face, as if someone had insulted him, although it was a typical thing for him at this point in his life.

But the anger suddenly stopped. He looked back at the kids, who were sleeping, remembering that there were three people in his house now. It was for work, of course, but they could help, he was sure! Besides, his roommates would like some easy money for taking care of two kids. It was definitely the best way to not have to worry about work.

A small smile appeared on the brunette's lips at the idea of the complaints of those college students who also called him "uncle." The idea of taking care of kids who were nine years younger was something, but now he felt that the burden he was carrying was less. Maybe this would even be a vacation, if he looked at it from a certain point of view.

"Guys?... Guys! We're here, you have to get up!" the sailor said, carefully waking both children, who looked at the place expectantly, surprised by the facilities.

It was a small place? As big as a garage? When they got out of the car, the younger ones realized that the garage was much larger; at least five cars could fit in there. That made them look at each other, surprised. In Webby's case, she knew Donald owned something, but was the pay for this so big?

The sailor called them to come in, carrying the suitcases, carefully opening the door and walking down a long hallway until they reached the main living room of the place.

"WOW! THIS IS A MANSION!" the boy said, surprised, taking off his cap at once, leaving his hair messy, and looking at the place with a smile.

"Is this the house they gave you?! Is your position that important, Uncle Donald?!" the girl said, surprised, doing light jumps while looking at the place.

It was definitely a little smaller than the mansion where he grew up, but it was more elegant, more of a style that a lady would love, maybe rococo? No, it was a little more modern, a combination of many things that the girl couldn't figure out. She excitedly followed the others as they walked to their rooms, in the sailor's words. Along the way, they went up some stairs and passed some hallways.

Both children saw some of the photos that were in the place—photos of the brunette with them or with Della were visible, but most of the photos with the adults looked much younger, as if the house was trapped in another time, or the things from another time were trapped here?

Neither of them spoke on the way, except for saying small things like how beautiful the rug was or the place itself, until they finally reached a place with three doors.

"Alright, these will be your rooms, but I should warn you that you might have neighb-" the words didn't finish coming out when the door on the other side opened, the one in the middle of the three.

Out came three girls who were laughing until they noticed the others present, their eyes widening, their gaze falling directly on the sailor, who smiled nervously.

"Uh... girls, these are Louie and Webby, my nephew and niece from another family," the brunette said, pointing to both children who stepped back a little from the girls. "Kids, these are April, May, and June, the students from my area and almost nieces."

He introduced each one properly, leaving them alone for a moment while he put each suitcase in its place, leaving the hallway in an awkward silence until one of the girls jumped out, crouching down to the height of the younger ones.

"OH, BUT LOOK, THEY'RE SO CUTE," June said with a huge smile, with two small pigtails in her hair so it wouldn't get messy, wearing sky-blue pajamas with clouds.

Both children looked at each other, although only one of them looked happy, while the boy felt a little confused. He hadn't expected to live with only girls for these months; it made him nervous.

"June, you're going to scare them," said the eldest with black hair and glasses, with a somewhat formal tone but with dark pink cat pajamas that contrasted with her serious look. "Nice to meet you, kids. You already know my name is April. Now, apparently, we're neighbors. I hope we get along well."

And finally, the tallest of the three came out with a high ponytail and pajamas similar to gym clothes, looking like an athlete, who also smiled widely.

"And I'm May, nice to meet you, little ones," despite her energetic appearance, she spoke more softly and calmly, almost like the one in green. It was surprising.

Both children looked at each other and just smiled nervously, accepting the company. The one with the bow started by jumping up to show her hand as a greeting.

"Nice to meet you! I'm Webby! I also hope we get along well for the time we're here!" the words came out with excitement and joy, making one of the college students take the little girl's hand in celebration.

"OH! Yes! I have to show you the whole place! I'm sure you'll love it. Uncle Donald decorates very well!" As if she were a small child, she took the youngest's hand to show her the place, and the one with the bow eagerly accepted.

"Wait, June! There are places Uncle Donald wouldn't let her go!" the one with the glasses said, instantly standing up towards both girls.

The boy noticed that his uncle had gone to the middle room a while ago, which surprised him since it wasn't that late, maybe 4 or 5 in the afternoon, but he was probably busy with the move. But his thoughts were interrupted by a hand.

"Hey, if you're thinking about Uncle Donald, don't worry, he was a little busy with the move, you know, lots of boxes and things. How about I show you the place? You look like you like movies. Do you want to see the movie theater room?" the eldest said with her arms in her pockets, surprising the youngest, his eyes lighting up.

"THERE'S A MOVIE THEATER ROOM?!" he said excitedly, though he then cleared his throat, embarrassed.

"Ha! Of course, follow me, or else the girls would kill me if I left you alone here." Her words were heard with excitement to see the place and the people. It was a strange, somewhat familiar atmosphere but not as heavy as he thought.

They quickly got to where the girls were. June and Webby were holding hands, pointing to the kitchen with joy, saying she would prepare a lot of things now that they were there.

"You should listen to her, girl! June knows how to make delicious desserts," the newcomer said, walking to the fridge, taking the whipped cream, and putting a little in her mouth.

"May, what did I tell you about doing that with the cream!" April said, tired of the same speech.

"Mmm, what? About this," she turned to the youngest, giving him a signal, and let him do the same, although with some embarrassment, but he did it, making two of the older ones laugh.

June came closer to do the same, followed by the younger one, each with a smudge of whipped cream on their face from doing it away from the can so it would be less unsanitary.

"Ugh... what will Uncle Donald say about you teaching them that..." the eldest said, laughing a little at each of them.

And as if they had called him, the sailor arrived, looking at the crowd, confused, but since he was on his phone, he didn't pay much attention. He went to open the refrigerator, but what he was looking for wasn't there until May passed it to him, as if fate wanted to give April's values a blow. The brunette did exactly the same thing, then thanked her and went to the other side of the living room as if it were a cheap joke that made the rest laugh at the stupidity of the situation.

"Oh! Come on, go change! So we can watch a movie! Yes, yes! How exciting!" the one in blue said, jumping and gently pushing the younger ones, showing her favoritism for the kids.

"I'll go find the movie," the sporty one said, leaving the kitchen in silence, although a low humming could be heard in the distance.

The eldest watched the others leave and went to the living room to see her tired uncle putting his phone aside. This made her concern surface. She approached him calmly and carefully, putting her hand on his back, warning him of her arrival.

"Uncle Donald, are you okay? You seem more stressed than usual. Is it because of the kids? Speaking of which, what are they doing here?" the girl said, confused, being the voice of the college students in a way.

"I'm sorry I didn't warn you, April. It was a plan that came out of nowhere. They'll be staying for a few months because of some problems, you know, I don't want them to get overwhelmed and have problems," the sailor said with a slight smile, putting his hand on his own neck.

"I see... and those calls? Do you have a problem with the director? Or is it something about the ring?" she said the last part a little nervously, pointing to the ring on the other's neck.

The sailor's silence spoke for itself. He carefully grabbed the ring, nodding gently, making the girl look away, staying in a long silence for a few seconds.

"I have to go out tonight... Tonight is when everything I talked about begins... That's why I need you to watch the kids while I'm gone. I promise that when I travel, I'll take you shopping," the sailor said, somewhat tired, practically begging for the girls' help.

"...Shopping or not, we're going to do it, Uncle... But you have to be careful, especially with those bad people... Aunt Daisy wouldn't want you to leave us alone because of some accident," the girl said with a smile, walking away, although she stopped for a moment, smiling maliciously out of the elder's sight. "Although I don't think she would want you to leave her either, heh."

She threw that out there and then left, doing light jumps towards where the rest had gone, leaving the sailor with that, making him laugh, embarrassed, and then look at his phone. "5:50." It was very close to 6. It would be best to get ready and pray that everything goes well.

Because everyt

hing will go well, right?

He wasn't Della to give himself some words of encouragement.

Chapter Text

"All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dreams with open eyes, to make it possible."

— T.E. Lawrence

"Lawrence of Arabia"

Both men walked decisively along the sidewalks of that night, damp with cold, both in a simple suit without a tie, glancing sideways at the city streets until they reached their destination. With conviction, they entered the bar, full of men with dubious pasts and unfriendly faces, watching them askance like a wolf observing its prey.

They went up to the second floor where they were met by a large man with a somewhat dark complexion and reddish, almost pink hair, who approached to check if they were carrying any bladed or firearms.

"— Having fun? — mentioned the sailor, glancing sideways at the big man —"

"— Sure, we have a clown here — he said, now checking his companion somewhat quickly — They're clean!"

With that, he stepped aside, allowing both figures to pass toward the billiard table where a man with an innocent appearance, neatly combed hair, and a well-kept suit was waiting.

"— My apologies, I can't be too careful — he mentioned in a soft, even arrogant tone —"

"— I assume you're Bradford — the older man said, starting the topic immediately —"

"— Mr. Everett and Mr. Coot — he mentioned, lightly pressing his hands together with a smile which was only answered with cold stares — . . . Do you have it? —"

Both men exchanged glances and then turned their attention back to the man with the obvious, mangy look of a vulture.

"— First, let's see the money — the grey-haired man mentioned, placing his hands carefully on the billiard table —"

"— Of course, of course. . . ahem, Raider! — With that, he raised his hand to call one of his henchmen, who immediately brought the briefcase —"

Flashing a smile, he opened it, showing its contents to both men. The first to act was the sailor, who carefully took one of the stacks of dollars, examining them closely, while the older man turned towards the neat-looking man.

"— The ring? You know, I have to check it, my client is very demanding — he mentioned with a little smirk —"

With a bit of insecurity but calm, the brown-haired man gave the ring to the guy with the dangerous, vulture-like gaze. He took the ring and analyzed it meticulously with a magnifying glass, observing every detail.

"— Silver, 16th century, Elizabethan design, with Sir Francis Coote's logo on it. It seems authentic. Might I ask where you got it from? — he mentioned, lowering the ring to the table and observing the older of the two —"

"— Does it matter? — the older man asked, somewhat challenging the other's questions —"

"— It matters a lot to my client. . ."

"— Wait, Evy, this is fake — the sailor said, passing a wad of money to the older man, looking angrily at the man in front of him —"

"— I can assure you that every dollar is completely re—"

"— No, no, he's right, this is faker than a three-dollar bill! What is this crap? — he said angrily, tossing the money not too forcefully onto the rest —"

"— Yeah. . . Sorry, buddy — the sailor put his hand over the ring before the other could grab it — No deal — he finished taking the ring off, putting it on himself in the process —"

"— And you can tell your client that he ruined it — the older man authoritatively grabbed the sailor's shoulder with the intention of leaving — Let's go, Donald —"

"— You are not in a position to negotiate, gentlemen. . . so give me the ring, take the briefcase, and leave through the front door without any problem — he mentioned with poorly contained rage disguised as formality —"

The sailor didn't look back, ready to leave, but collided with the hand of the taller man with reddish, almost pink hair, who was looking at him angrily.

"— Do what he says — he mentioned humorlessly, pushing the sailor with a bit of force, causing him to turn around —"

"— He's a thief. . . — he mentioned, glancing sideways at the brown-haired man who seemed very familiar. He was quite sure this guy had something to do with his uncle's company, but he couldn't remember what —"

"— Well, look at the irony, huh? — he mentioned with a triumphant smile, making the sailor grunt a little in anger —"

Turning quickly toward the table, he grabbed the cue stick, breaking it over the redhead's head, an action that was copied by the older man, both knowing that the only way out would be through the back door with a possible concussion but determined to get out of there.

Hours passed, it was late, almost midnight. The girls were watching a movie with the youngest ones, although both were already asleep in their seats, so that alerted each of them that it was time for bed. Carefully, the older one with glasses and the athletic one carried the children to their respective room, leaving in silence, listening to the small, soft humming of their younger sister cleaning the living room.

"— So. . . do you really think Uncle Donald. . . went back to his old ways? — mentioned the one with the low ponytail, loud enough for her sister to hear, her concern clearly showing —"

"— I guess so. . . It's personal for him, and you know it. . . we can only see how far this goes. . . — the older one mentioned, carefully adjusting her glasses, looking away, tired —"

"— Just like that?. . . I don't think this is a good idea! . . . It's been a long time and we are adults, and to top it off, there are these two boys. . . April, please tell me you know what I mean — she mentioned, somewhat annoyed, avoiding raising her voice, looking frustrated in the end —"

"—. . . Of course, I know. . . and he knows it too, that's why he asked for our help. . . . We have to support him, May. . . For us, it seems like a dangerous adventure. . . For him, it's one of the biggest mysteries of his life, a burden I don't think he wants to carry any longer — she approached and put her hand on her shoulder, looking at her calmly, then bringing it to her own hand, taking it — We have to be united and support him. . . Just like he supported us. . . with our aunt! Remember? —"

The other one just sighed, giving her sister a tight hug, and they walked toward their room in a silence that marked her doubt, and to be honest, both were in the same situation, not to mention all three, simply carrying that pain in silence, because who were they to refuse the great adventurer? The one and only Donald Duck.

"— I only came to get back what is mine! — mentioned a dark-skinned lady with black hair and honey-colored eyes —"

"— NO! — the sailor shouted, lunging to grab the ring, but the only thing he received was a gunshot to the stomach, falling backward, lifeless like a broken toy —"

"— Oh my God, DON! — he couldn't finish the phrase when he received the same shot, falling just like his protégé, causing the woman to step back sharply —"

"— You. . . IDIOT! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!? — the shadow with the umbrella mentioned angrily, her face turning darker —"

"— I'm doing you a favor! — the redhead mentioned with a smile that disappeared quickly —"

"— Marlow! We have to leave! — the voice of the brown-haired man with glasses made the woman realize, accelerating her pace towards the car to get out of there as quickly as possible —"

Now under the rain and the cold of Duckburg, those bodies were lying in the trash behind that bar, bleeding. Who would have thought the plan would end so soon, so fast?

"— And you're gone! . . Now you can get up, girls — the redhead mentioned with a triumphant smile, walking toward the oldest, helping him to stand up —"

"— God, Raider, my ears are still ringing! — the sailor mentioned, accepting his hand, feeling him let go to almost let him fall, something typical of both of them —"

"— Ahhh, what are you complaining about! I had to make it convincing — his smile got bigger, walking towards the nearest alley —"

"— I knew they would take the bait! — the sailor mentioned with a smile, placing the real ring around his neck —"

"— Now we follow them to their hole — the older man followed him with a triumphant smile, but causing both young men to look at each other —"

"— You know everything you say is obscene? — the brown-haired man mentioned, laughing —"

"— Seriously? —"

The journey was quick, following them along walls and some heights until they reached a white van waiting for them on a dead-end street. A girl with reddish-blond hair and blue-gray eyes, wearing a red leather jacket and black pants with shoes that matched her jacket, got out of it.

"— Good evening, gentlemen! — she mentioned, stepping out with a smile, looking at them —"

"— Oh, how are you, dear? — the redhead mentioned with a somewhat sly smile —"

"— You look like you just got out of hell, I think I missed the fun — she mentioned, looking at them —"

"— We did wonderfully, don't worry — the sailor mentioned, looking away, somewhat angry with the redhead —"

"— There wasn't any problem, was there? — the older man mentioned, watching her walk towards the back of the car —"

"— Nah - pluff - I didn't take my eyes off that door. They went in there, no one has come out or gone back in since — the girl mentioned, making a slight sound with her tongue while looking for some things until she finally pulled them out —"

A box that, when opened, showed some silenced weapons, making the brown-haired man widen his eyes, reminding him again that this was not a typical adventure of his uncle, this was not an adventure at all. . . it was history that he was about to uncover.

"— Is it really necessary? . . I mean, it's not like they're waiting for us or anything — the older man mentioned, somewhat worried —"

"— Don't underestimate these guys. . . They don't mess around with nonsense or games — the redhead mentioned more seriously, observing both men —"

"— Yeah. . . we'll go in and out without being seen, simple as that, buddy — the brown-haired man mentioned, looking sideways at his weapon, thinking about how to use it again —"

"— Of course, hat-boy, but if a problem arises, you shoot first and ask questions later, right? — the criminal mentioned with a slight smile, making the sailor look away, slightly raising his eyebrows without saying anything more —"

The four walked silently towards the door, looking at it calmly, hoping not to make any noise, but there didn't seem to be a way to get in from the outside without a key or internal help.

"— I'll climb up and see if I can open it from inside. You three stay here — the sailor mentioned, walking carefully toward the entrance —"

He looked carefully for where he could climb, grabbing onto a pipe, almost falling in the process but fulfilling his mission, slowly circling the building until he reached the roof where for a few seconds his gaze was glued to the landscape. The lights illuminating the city were beautiful, even captivating. He didn't take long to snap out of it and entered through one of the windows, observing the entire place.

"— Empty?. . where did they go? — he wondered, somewhat annoyed, going down until he reached the floor, grateful for having continued training despite the years —"

He glanced sideways at the place, walking toward the green door where he would apply some force, lifting it.

"— A little help wouldn't hurt — he mentioned with difficulty while his face turned a little red from the effort, but calming down as he felt help from the other side, thus everyone passing into the room —"

"— I don't get it, empty? No one came out that door! Something must have happened, but. . . — she looked down, somewhat confused —"

"— Relax. . . investigate the area, we need to find clues — the sailor mentioned, looking at the others with that little air of leadership that emerged when his voice allowed it —"

The four began to investigate the place, taking out some flashlights to improve visibility, the older man looking at the floor in more detail, crouching down a bit.

"— Did you see that? . . . Tire marks, still fresh from the rain — the older man mentioned, getting up with some difficulty —"

"— Mmm, true, they must have turned around here. . . But — the sailor approached, confused, stepping where the marks ended, noticing how it lowered — Look at this! —"

"— Mmmm, some kind of mechanism? — the girl asked, approaching, confused —"

"— Yes, perhaps. . . four contact points. . . four tires. . . hey Evy, stay there. . . You two over there and over there — the sailor mentioned, pointing to each switch —"

All four jumped at once for something to activate, but nothing happened, making the sailor a little angry, "What was missing?" he thought, looking away, noticing how the wall reacted to his flashlight.

"— Evy, there! Point your flashlight like car headlights — he mentioned, watching the other man do it —"

That caused the wall to move, and the others looked at each other, simply surprised.

"— . . . Open sesame — the older man mentioned, lightening the mood a bit —"

"— Um. . Don. . Who exactly are we dealing with? — the woman asked with a little nervousness in her voice, approaching the entrance but not even passing the present company —"

"— There's only one way to find out. . . Hey, we'll track their steps, you go back to the van — the sailor mentioned, taking the lead among the other two men, quite deep into that mission —"

"— I'll let you know when we get to the other side, okay? — the redhead mentioned, glancing sideways at her —"

"— Wherever that place is — the older man mentioned, following the sailor's pace —"

"— It could be a quick exit, so be alert! — the brown-haired man mentioned before passing, looking seriously at the blonde, making her nod decisively, walking out of the place —"

"— She's the best driver, did you know that? — the redhead mentioned, breaking the tension a little with a little smile —"

"— Pff. . . I heard that — the sailor replied, glancing sideways at him —"

The three figures passed the wall, causing the door to close behind them. The place was a tunnel very similar to a wet mine, full of sharp rocks, mold on the walls, and old beams with dubious signs of stability, causing the tense atmosphere to return, bringing back the ideas and questions: "What is this place?", "Why here?", and above all, "How far do these people go?" Most of them will not have an answer, at least not one they want to know.

"— Who the hell drives their car under the damn earth!? — the old man mentioned, moving his hand to clear some of the dust in the air, noticeably irritated —"

"— Let me think. . . Someone who doesn't want to be found? Or who doesn't want to be followed? I mean, they're just assumptions after all — the redhead mentioned with noticeable sarcasm, looking straight ahead, trying not to laugh —"

"— . . . Smart aleck —"

"— It looks like they went through the old service tunnels. . . — the sailor mentioned, breaking that tension as they got closer and closer to their destination —"

They arrived at a notoriously closed door, but took another route, passing through many old pipes, wet paths, and old cables, arguing about different things as if they were children until they reached a specific part, hearing footsteps and voices, causing them to hide instantly. The sailor looked to one side, noticing how the older man was already pulling out his pistol, making him do the same, but in the process, moving an old board.

"— Did you hear that?. . OVER THERE! I SEE THEM — voices were heard from the other side, causing the sailor's gaze to change to an annoyed one. Was his luck beginning to run out? —"

It didn't matter, it wasn't the time. His brain was running a mile a minute. It had been a long time since he had used a pistol, practically a decade, and that made him nervous. He gripped his weapon tightly and aimed at the suited shoulder, missing the first shot but hitting the second. When he realized it, both men were already on the floor, lifeless.

"— Good job, kid, not bad for being rusty — the old man mentioned, giving him a slight nudge —"

The sailor smiled a little but then walked in silence, glancing sideways at the corpses, walking toward the rest of the place, entering a room with an obvious old style that undoubtedly surprised the three gentlemen.

"— Wow! Look at this place! It's definitely old, Victorian style. . . — the sailor mentioned, looking at the place with obvious astonishment, lightly touching one of the structures, leaving some dirt on his hands, which he easily wiped off —"

"— Has all this been rusting under the city? — the older man asked, observing the dirt on the things, which was nothing more and nothing less than rust —"

"— Is this place a train station? — the redhead asked, confused —"

"— Something like that, but from about 200 years ago? Maybe, it's surprising that it's still standing — the older man mentioned, pointing to the place with some admiration for the structure of the place —"

The three froze when they heard footsteps coming from a somewhat improvised entrance in the wall. Both the sailor and the thief looked at each other, walking toward each side of the wall, waiting for the people until at the right moment, both knocked out the suited men without any visible remorse, continuing their route.

"— Wow! These stones!? — the older man mentioned, surprised by the floor design —"

"— It looks like Tudor style! From the 16th century — the brown-haired man mentioned, following the excitement —"

They reached a hallway that led them on a slow but nervous ascent, as if everything they had gone through on the way was nothing more than a tale, and this was the challenge. The nerves were there, even though there was no threat. Maybe it was ecstasy or fear, depending on who was being pointed out, but one thing they knew was that they didn't really understand who they were messing with. A familiar voice made their bodies stop dead in their tracks, hiding in the shadows to observe the downstairs part of the room from the small balcony.

In it, more of the suited men arrived along with the tall, brown-haired figure with glasses and the gaze of a vulture. Beside the table, an angry female figure with short hair and a black dress like the night, with a dark complexion, looked quite irritated with the person in front of her, who, unlike her, looked somewhat nervous.

"— I'm not interested in excuses! It was unpredictable, and you should have known! — she mentioned, putting her hand between the fronts of each one, showing her distance due to anger —"

"— Yes. . Miss Heron. . I know it was regrettable — he was interrupted when he said that word —"

"— Shhh, it's not regrettable! It's sloppy, your ego could have cost us everything! — she mentioned finally, silencing the one with glasses —"

Her gaze quickly changed to the artifact in her hand, becoming softer, producing a confident and triumphant smile. In one of her hands was the famous yellowish-toned artifact, and in the other was the ring that shone with the little light in the room.

"— 400 years of searching, and now Coote's secret will be revealed. . . — her voice came out strong and sure, though with that soft touch that characterized her —"

Slowly, she placed the ring in the designated spot, but it simply didn't fit, causing the woman's gaze to change to a sharp and angry one.

"— What is this!? — she spat in anger, grabbing the magnifying glass to look closely at the ring — It's a fake. . . —"

"— What!? But it's not possible, I checked it myself, it was in my hands — he mentioned, confused, taking the fake ring and imitating her actions — This is not the ring. . . —"

"— Seriously? — she asked sarcastically, her irritation clearly showing as she thought about how it happened —"

"— It was in my hand! I saw him put it around his neck! It's not possible! — the one with glasses replied, showing even more anger and confusion —"

The woman only checked a few things, thinking about how it could have happened, noticing a small, easy-to-do hand trick with the ring, almost childish, but which caused irritation in her, letting out a loud sigh.

"— They tricked us. . . — she mentioned, slightly raising her gaze from between her bangs and the ring, making herself look imposing —"

"Raider. . . — the man with glasses mentioned angrily, his tone shifting to a cold and calculated one —"

"— Keep your guard up! And be alert, it's possible they followed us. . ., you follow me. . . Find them and bring me that ring no matter the cost! — the woman mentioned menacingly, walking out of the room, followed by the man with glasses and a few more henchmen —"

The three gentlemen watched from above. Two of them walked toward the descents while the sailor climbed onto the railing, preparing to slide down, thus knocking out the guy who was below him. He saw his companions arrive right after, having also knocked out the guards they saw. The sailor carefully observed the room, surprised by everything there was, but his gaze quickly went to the golden artifact on the table, identical to one he had seen when he was younger, not only in adventures but in many more stories, causing his pupils to widen with emotion. But his gaze also went to a jar with what seemed to be an animal.

"— Look at all this. . Ew — the sailor mentioned in a somewhat childish manner —"

"— Donald, focus, we don't have much time — the older man mentioned —"

"— Yeah, yeah, sure — the brown-haired man retorted, giving a slight nervous smile, but his eyes dropped to the book on the table, flipping through it and making his eyes light up even more —"

"— My God, do you know what this is? — the brown-haired man mentioned, ecstatic about what he was reading —"

"— It's a book, buddy, there are many here, it's a damn library — the thief mentioned, somewhat annoyed by the question —"

"— It's not just any book, smart-aleck! It belonged to T.E. Lawrence. . ., Lawrence of Arabia? — the sailor mentioned, hoping the other knew who he was talking about —"

"— Yeah, yeah, I know who you're talking about — the redhead mentioned, now more interested in the book —"

"— "I was sent from Dorset the day of the bicycle accident" May 13, 1935. They must have killed him when they got hold of this — the sailor mentioned, looking at the book —"

"— Ahhh, that's stupid, it was an accident! — the redhead mentioned, refuting that, which made the brown-haired man's gaze cool slightly —"

"— Witnesses saw a black car hit him! — the sailor refuted even more strongly, his anger issues noticeable for a few seconds —"

"— Guys! Calm down —"

"— Ohhh, so you're saying it was all a big cover-up? — the redhead mentioned with sarcasm, making the brown-haired man even angrier —"

"— Maybe not!? — he said, but his voice was cut off when he heard the older of the two men speak —"

"— Donald! The thing you've been waiting for, for, I don't know, 20 years!? — the older man mentioned, pointing to the artifact, making the brown-haired man blush a little in embarrassment —"

The sailor took the ring off his neck, removing the string, taking the artifact gently in his hand, his breathing quickening a little, still not believing he had it in his hands, that he was really going to do it. With the same care as before, he placed the ring in the "lock," watching as the artifact now displayed some letters, deciphering the code. The silent room due to the discovery was startled when they heard a faint "ah!" from the sailor.

"— What's happening? What is it? — the redhead mentioned, looking at the brown-haired man and then the older man, confused —"

"— It's. . . 'Cadaver Árido' (Arid Corpse) — the sailor mentioned in a somewhat embarrassed tone because of what it was —"

"— WHAT!? — the older man almost shouted, receiving a claim from the other two with a simple "shhh" — 'Cadaver Árido,' are you kidding me!? —"

"— No offense, buddy, but your ancestor was an idiot — the redhead mentioned angrily, walking away, disappointed —"

"— Will you shut up!? . . . It's an anagram, obviously! . . . It means. . . — the sailor started writing as before, sticking to a simple word to uncover another story, which was one of the things both men admired about him, although they probably wouldn't say it — "La Cierva Dorado" (The Golden Doe). . ."

"— Coot's ship! Yes — the redhead mentioned, returning to the idea with a smile —"

"— It's a clue, it's something! That's hidden somewhere in this room — the sailor mentioned, looking around confused —"

"— What makes you think it's here, kid? — the older man mentioned, watching him walk and also searching, even though he didn't know exactly what —"

"— Well, yeah, maybe it could also be at Buckland Abbey. There's a chair made from the wood of his ship, maybe it's there? — the redhead mentioned, also searching the room as if it were a needle in a haystack, at least for him —"

"— Yeah, I guess so, but. . . no, no it must be here! — the sailor mentioned, searching again —"

The three split up to cover ground, each looking for something similar. The brown-haired man and the older one were admiring the place a little, although the latter was controlling his nerves that they could be ambushed at any moment. Still, after a few seconds of searching, the sailor managed to see what he was looking for.

"— Excellent, there it is! — he mentioned, seeing a literally golden doe, at least the head of one, mounted above a pedestal — It's up there, the figurehead of Coot's ship."

The brown-haired man climbed up carefully, almost falling while jumping to the other side, but he didn't care. He reached the other pedestal where the statue was, jumped onto it, and grabbed hold of it, even as he heard the voices of strangers.

"— Shit! It's a trap! — the redhead mentioned, covering himself behind one of the pedestals, an action imitated by the older man —"

The brown-haired man shot the suited men from above, easily knocking them down because he was higher up, but that didn't stop the centuries-old statuette from breaking. With his bad luck, it fell straight to the floor, shattering, but he didn't care much. What he truly wanted was there, intact: a piece of paper, yellowed by the years. He quickly grabbed the paper and opened it, reading it.

"— My God, I was right, he went to Arabia! — the brown-haired man's eyes lit up, but a gunshot snapped him out of it, grazing his nose, leaving a wound similar to a cut, reminding him that he was in the middle of a shootout —"

The three took their things and left the room without leaving any more clues, although it was obvious that the rest already knew they were there. They went through rocky tunnels like those of a mine, arriving at the train zone, where they were ambushed by Marlow's men, fighting their way out as best they could, killing more men than they should in one night, but managing to leave that room unharmed, only with some scrapes or superficial wounds, except for the sailor, whose nose wound would unfortunately leave a deep scar.

They reached a more modern area for a train station, hurriedly climbing the stairs, seeing the entrance closed by a wooden door.

"— LYLA, ARE YOU THERE!? — the sailor shouted, his voice cracking slightly over a radio —"

"— I'm outside, yes! Are you coming yet!? — the woman asked, already informed of the situation —"

There was no answer, only a strong shove from the brown-haired man and the redhead, causing the door to break. The brown-haired man fell to the floor, but he didn't even give his bad luck time to leave him there; he was already running back. All three rushed into the van, avoiding gunfire, leaving the henchmen there with a bad taste in their mouths about what awaited them.

Chapter Text

After several hours, it was already 1 in the morning. The group was inside the large house where the sailor lived, celebrating while drinking and speaking in the softest voices they could so as not to wake the other people.

At the table sat the elder with a glass of whiskey and a cigarette in the other hand. Next to him was the blonde-haired woman, leaning against the window, observing the beautiful city views and a good sight of probably the most expensive tower in the world. Facing them was the red-haired thief with another glass, watching expectantly for what they had to say.

— And then the guy says, 'Why don't you touch mine too!' Now I'll have to catch that garbage! — the elder mentioned, imitating a voice before laughing with the others.

— Cheers! — the girl said, taking a sip of her glass.

— Cheers to a good job! — the old man said, raising his glass, joined by the criminal.

Meanwhile, in another part of the room, the sailor was looking at the old piece of paper next to the book in his hand, analyzing what it said, asking himself many things and even answering himself with the same things, which was noticed by the redhead, who got up.

— Gonna join us, honey? — he asked, a little mockingly, watching the sailor jump in surprise.

— Uh, yeah, yeah, right, sure... — He immediately stood up, bringing his things to the table.

He reached the table, placing the map in the center, clearing away the bottles and anything that could damage it.

— The map confirms it! Drake wasn't just vagueando (wandering aimlessly) in the West Indies; he sailed straight, heading for Arabia — the sailor said, looking a little impressed by the route, before turning to the others with the book in hand. — But this is where it's interesting! See that mark?

The brunette pointed to one of the corners of the paper, showing a mark. It looked like an inverted, sideways 7 with two circles beneath it.

— That's John Dee's signature! — he mentioned excitedly, now looking at the elder, who was confused.

— Who the hell is John Dee? — the elder asked, confused.

— John Dee, one of Queen Elizabeth's closest consultants! Everyone knows that — the redhead mentioned with a slight, triumphant smile.

— Yes, yes, exactly! He was a great mathematician and navigator! — the brunette said, nodding at the criminal's answer.

The elder, on the other hand, rolled his eyes, trying not to punch the one in front of him.

— He was ahead of his time; he probably invented it! — the brunette continued, looking toward the golden artifact in the girl's hands, pointing at it in the end.

— Of course, in the shadows? You know, in a very dark way — the redhead said, moving his hands a bit before taking a drink.

— He signed all his letters to Queen Elizabeth with this symbol, which meant they were her "eyes" — the sailor said with a wide smile, looking at the elder, undoubtedly happy to see the sailor so content.

— So, it was John Dee who sent Coot to Arabia? — the woman asked expectantly, raising an eyebrow slightly.

— Yes, it seems so — the sailor nodded.

— Great, but... For what exactly? — The elder's eyes moved to the sailor, who was already formulating his answer.

— Well... that's the million-dollar question, right? This is where T.E. Lawrence comes in—well, before he became Lawrence of Arabia — he said, carefully opening the book and searching through its pages.

— Great movie — the redhead said, a bit mockingly, causing the sailor to roll his eyes.

— He was an archaeologist — he said, pulling a photo of T.E. Lawrence himself out of the book. — Since he was a child, he was... obsessed! With everything related to knights and the Crusades. He traveled everywhere and documented every Crusade site he found. It's... all here! — the brunette said, pointing to the book.

— Alright... I'm a bit lost. What does this have to do with Coot? — the old man asked, confused, watching the sailor with a raised eyebrow.

— I'm getting to that — he said, raising one hand before looking at the map. — After the war, Lawrence said that if he ever returned to Arabia, it would be to search for the "Atlantis of the Sands". The legend grows and grows with different names: Ubar, Iram of the Pillars, the City of Pillars, but the story is always the same — he said, grabbing the book and handing it to the elder, making him read the account written in it.

— Wow... "City of immeasurable wealth, destroyed by God for its arrogance, buried in the Rub' al Khali desert" — the elder said, reading the book intently and also looking at the images within.

— Right... — he put his hand on a part of the map — Here!

— Well... I like the "immeasurable wealth" part — the elder said, taking a drink of his whiskey.

— And you think Elizabeth and Dee sent Coot for it? — the redhead asked, looking at the brunette with concern.

— Oh, yes... And now Marlow is looking for it... — the sailor mentioned, sounding a bit angry as he looked at the floor.

The sailor's anger was interrupted by the sound of the woman standing up, along with a "wait," as she cautiously approached the table, leaving the artifact there.

— If the Queen entrusted Coot with the mission to find this place... Why all the secrecy? I mean, it seems like he went to a lot of trouble to hide what he found, even from Her Majesty — she said, looking first at the sailor and then at the redhead, who was also waiting for his answer.

The sailor looked down in silence, then scratched the back of his neck, sighing.

— I don't know — he said quietly, looking away.

— Oh, excuse me, what was that? — the redhead said mockingly, putting his hand to his ear as if to "hear" better.

— Wait a minute, because if you don't forget, the last time we went halfway around the world to find a lost city, it ended terribly badly! — the girl mentioned, sounding a bit angry.

— Yes, but... This time we have all the clues, and they don't have any! We have the advantage; we have to take it! — the sailor said, pointing to the table and lightly tapping it with his finger.

— We have a small problem... the almost thousand kilometers of the Rub' al Khali desert ahead of us... the Bedouins come and go through the darn thing! — the elder mentioned angrily, lighting another cigarette.

— Even if we knew where it was, which we don't, we'd die trying — the redhead said, looking at the brunette, serious but incredulous.

— Hold on, look at the symbols here! — the brunette said, silencing them to look at the map.

— Yes, yes, they look like Sobean symbols (it's in Sobean) — they both said at the same time, surprising the brunette a little while the elder just smiled, flicking his cigarette ash into the ashtray.

— Good... The Crusaders were looking for the same lost city a thousand years ago, but of all the places Lawrence documented, only two are marked with these symbols. One... in Syria... and the other in France — the sailor said with a smile.

The woman happily raised her hand, which made the brunette look at her seriously.

— No, no, you guys go to Syria; we'll go to France — he said, looking at the elder. — If we follow these clues, we will undoubtedly find Lawrence's lost city...

— And then? How will we cross the almost thousand kilometers of impassable lands? — the redhead asked, still skeptical of the plan, pointing at the map and looking at the brunette with a raised eyebrow.

— Well, it's in the center of the desert, so technically about 500 kilometers — the sailor said with a smile, making the others laugh at his search for "positivity" in that situation.

— When we get to the bridge, we'll burn it! — he said, raising his glass.

— Exactly — the elder raised his glass too, looking at both men, finally ending on the elder — What do you say?

— What the hell — he raised his glass as well.

— Let's do it! — the redhead said last, raising his glass for the toast, and then they all drank.

But a slight sound made most of them jump, causing the brunette to turn around, almost grabbing a chair to throw it, if he hadn't seen the figure before and his eyes hadn't opened wide.

— L-Louie, what are you doing here... why are you awake so late — the sailor said, pulling his jacket tightly closed so the boy wouldn't see his white shirt stained with fake blood, and walking towards him.

— You... what is... Is that why it was blood!? — the boy mentioned, a little scared, as he had obviously seen that detail, making the brunette close his eyes in slight anger.

— No, no—it's fake. Just... how much did you hear? — he asked, though a slight flicker of doubt appeared in his head, walking toward the hallway with him and noticing that practically everyone was there: the youngest girl and the three college-aged girls. — Oh... Shit—

The sailor sighed and turned around, giving them a sign to wait, and then went with the group of younger people to the kitchen. They all walked in silence, following the elder. Upon arriving, he let them sit while he walked to the kitchen counter, grabbing a glass to pour himself water.

— ... I imagine you heard... everything, right? — the elder said, drinking water, somewhat serious but compassionate.

There was a slight silence in the room; the sailor's words landed with some force until a loud clatter of a scraping chair sounded, showing that May had stood up, looking angry.

— DON'T TELL ME YOU'RE REALLY GOING TO DO IT? — she said, sounding more nervous than angry. — I mean, are you seriously going back to that life!? Remember what Aunt said— she mentioned, but was interrupted by another voice.

— BACK!? UNCLE DONALD, WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? — the youngest boy with black hair shouted, showing confusion at the words.

— ALRIGHT, SILENCE! — the eldest of the group stood up before the sailor could speak. — Let Uncle Donald talk before all that... You should start from the beginning —

The eldest raised her hand, signaling to the brunette, who smiled slightly for the help, though it wasn't requested, it was needed. He sighed, thinking how to say everything, pushing a chair with his leg and sitting down facing the others from the other side of the counter.

— Well... I owe you two an explanation... Louie, Rosita... As you must know, I went on adventures with Uncle Scrooge and Della, right? — he began, needing to know if they understood where he was going.

— Yes... Of course, we knew when Uncle Scrooge told us everything — the one with the bow mentioned, grabbing a lock of her hair while looking at her pajamas and then at the elder.

— Good... For some years, I went with them on different adventures... But it wasn't for me, I didn't like the "magic"... it just didn't align with any part of me... but I went anyway, and on one of those adventures, I got lost. That was when we took a trip to Colombia... It was magnificent; everything felt so real when you get away from the middle of nowhere and truly see history — the brunette said with a touch of nostalgia.

He carefully ran his hand along the rim of the glass while thinking of his words, still with the slight nostalgic smile.

— Well... what I was saying, on that specific trip, looking for a way to get back to Della and Scrooge, I walked alone through the streets of Cartagena, looking for a way out until I found an exhibition. I had been researching the history of Duckburg and our family for a while, but I didn't expect to find an exhibition about the one I researched so much, "Sir Francis Coot," right there — the elder mentioned, getting up from the table to put the glass in the sink. — I saw everything about the place, fascinated, finding... this — he mentioned, taking the ring out of his pocket.

— ... Sir Parvis Magma? — the youngest boy with black hair mentioned, reading what the ring said.

— It's Latin, Louie. It says "Greatness is born from small beginnings" — the eldest girl mentioned with a slight smile, although she seemed a bit nervous.

The youngest looked seriously at the ring, then at the sailor, who was waiting calmly while he waited for him and his companion to analyze everything.

— Well... that marked me. I met Evy, who is the old man in the other room, haha... He helped me a lot afterward, even to find a way back... After that, when I was old enough, I went on my own. I had many adventures with Evy and the guys. I found the famous El Dorado! Even a lost city with the ability to grant eternal life! But... all that is different from Scrooge's adventures, and this is no exception — the elder said, now turning to look at one of the college-aged girls. — It's hard, May, but I have to do it...

— What!? But why? If you say it's different from Scrooge's adventures and you look so worried, then why go! — the black-haired boy mentioned anxiously, slightly lifting himself, although being smaller, he did it from his chair, reaching the same level as the brunette, who looked at him, surprised a little that he stood up but not enough to be scared.

A small sigh escaped the sailor's mouth; he smiled with compassion, putting his hands on the boy's shoulders, guiding him to sit down, which the youngest followed, staying there for a few seconds while he formulated the word.

— It's the same feeling you guys had about finding out about Della — the elder mentioned, making the boy open his eyes completely.

The room fell silent. No one wanted to say anything else, although there was much to ask. The sailor simply walked away, taking off his jacket, omitting many details.

— Uncle Donald! — the one in green jumped out of his chair to stop the elder. — Let me go with you... I mean, let us go with you! — the one in green mentioned, determined.

— WHAT!? WHAT DIDN'T YOU UNDERSTAND ABOUT DANGEROUS AND DIFFERENT, LOUIE? — he said in a loud voice, similar to a shout but not as strong, confused by the question.

— Please, Uncle! I want to be with you. You said you were going to France, right? It'll be great, and, and Webby can come! She probably knows how to defend herself better than anyone here! — The one in green mentioned with a smile, determined to go with him. It was just an old castle.

— No, Louie, it's too dangerous! — the brunette said, flatly refusing that proposal.

— Hey, Uncle Donald?... How about I go with him?... I could look after him while you search, you know. Besides, the games aren't until next month; I have time, as do April and June — the eldest girl mentioned, standing up and putting her hand on the shoulder of the youngest boy and the girl next to her.

The brunette fell silent, looking between his nephew's pleading eyes and the young adult's thoughtful but nervous smile, wondering what he should do, praying to God that this was a lie, although, of course, his bad luck was involved. He sighed.

— I can go too, Uncle Donald... You'll need help — the oldest of all the young people mentioned, adjusting her glasses.

— Aww, what! Am I the only one who has to stay, seriously! — June mentioned, a little sad since she did have important things to do.

At this, the sailor could only laugh, a somewhat loud and hoarse laugh, typical of him, which lightened the mood in the room a bit.

— Oh, God... Alright, alright! You can go, but you'll stay far away! Because it is very dangerous, and I'm only letting you because May and April are going, okay — he said, looking with slightly closed eyes at the youngest ones. — And please, don't tell your mothers anything, especially you all —

This made the others celebrate being able to go with their uncle (and semi-uncle) on a real adventure, although only one of the girls was sad.

— Aww, June, don't worry. You can call us, and we'll come back faster than you think — the one with the bow said, approaching to hug the youngest of the college-aged girls.

— That's right, June, besides, I need someone at the base, you know, even though this trip benefits me for the institute... Practice hard for your gymnastics competition. I promise to come and see it — the sailor mentioned, also giving her a big hug.

— Aww, thanks, Uncle Donald! I promise to take good care of the base! — the girl mentioned with a little smile, hugging them back, accepting the hugs from the others, although only the boy didn't hug her but did smile at her.

— Good! Come on, you all need to go back to bed. You have a lot to do tomorrow — the brunette mentioned, pushing them out so everyone would go back to bed. — And I have a lot of things to explain... — he mentioned to himself, almost in a whisper, as he tiredly walked back to the living room.

The wind was strong; it buffeted the nose of the plane, but it was nothing it couldn't handle. The day was beautiful, and with it, the mood of the group on the plane. There were few people on the plane, and with them, the group of three women and three men, two of whom were minors. The sailor was nervous, and it showed in the way his leg rapidly moved up and down, tapping the table while he looked at his books. This drew the attention of the person next to him, the elder.

— Hey, kid, calm down. We haven't even arrived, and you're already a wreck — the elder mentioned with a slight smile, looking at the sailor.

— I'm sorry, Evy, I'm just... I'm nervous. I hadn't planned for them to come... And I'm worried something might happen... But I couldn't say no! And I also didn't tell their mothers — the sailor mentioned, running his hand over his face.

— It was certainly hasty and irresponsible of you, but at least you have an old man here, so — the old man mentioned, lightening the mood, laughing a bit. — Although, if their aunt finds out, she'll kill you.

— Tell me about it! — the sailor mentioned, laughing with him, a little calmer for at least having support from the person he had seen as a father figure, or something similar, for so many years.

They both continued in silence for the rest of the trip to France. They arrived at a hotel where they would leave their things, which weren't many, just a few clothes. The eldest would stay behind to monitor the area in case someone was following them, while the rest of the group would go with the elders to the castle, renting a car to get there faster, driving through some streets until they reached the middle of the jungle, where the car could no longer enter, so they got out.

— I'm afraid this is where you all stay, understood? — the sailor mentioned, getting out of the car and hearing a collective groan. — Hey, no complaints! That's the deal.

— But Uncle Donald! You promised one of us could go — the one in pink mentioned angrily, pointing at him.

— You said it, kid; I heard him — the older man mentioned, taking the children's side, even if he didn't entirely agree.

The sailor looked at him indignantly from his place in their small argument, running a hand over his face and then through his hair to calm down, looking seriously at the children.

— Alright... Webby, you're coming with us... May, you take care of the car, find a better place to hide it than this, and look after Louie, as well as yourself — the sailor mentioned, walking toward the car to give her a radio. — In any case, we'll be in contact with these; the phones probably won't have signal. Be careful.

He mentioned, hugging the eldest girl and then the youngest boy, then moving away a bit to start their walk, pulling out a map and being followed by the other two.

— Good, we're definitely heading in the right direction — he mentioned, putting away the map and smiling at the other two as he walked.

— It won't be long, will it? With you, I don't know if that's one kilometer or thirty, like when you got us lost in Peru? — the elder mentioned, laughing a bit.

— Wooow, you really want to talk about Peru!? — the sailor mentioned, turning slightly as he walked. — I was 15! I knew that when I met you, I'd end up in jail

The youngest girl observed the conversation between the two men out of the corner of her eye, as if they were lifelong friends—but are they? She simply turned away, not wanting to get involved.

— So, what are you and Don? Does he have a long-lost sibling? — the elder asked, looking at her with a teasing smile, though not one that felt hurtful.

— Uh, well, I... I'm not really part of the family as such?... At least not by blood. I'm the housekeeper's granddaughter — she mentioned, playing with her hands as she jumped over some branches that were tall for her.

— Well, as far as I'm concerned, the family that isn't by blood is the closest family — the old man said, smiling, looking forward instead of at the girl.

The youngest was surprised by the words, now looking at the sailor who only smiled, which confused her more. So, she simply began to notice the landscape. It was beautiful, a jungle typical of the adventures they had, but it felt different—more real? It was confusing, but it strongly reminded her of the brunette's story, now understanding it even more than before.

— Look! There's the castle! You should have more faith in me! — the brunette said, smiling at the elder.

The castle in the distance looked ruined, old, and utterly uninhabitable—unlike the usual Scrooge adventures. It didn't seem enchanted or haunted; everything felt very real, like reading a history book in school, and in a way, the youngest girl was starting to like that.

— Alright! Let's figure out how to get past the cliff that wasn't on the map... — the brunette mentioned, quite annoyed by that.