Arriving at their destination, the four Gods stopped. The doorway to the queen's corridor was a menacing black, darkness creeping slowly out of the shadow.

Wilson swallowed his fear and took a step into the blackness. The torches failed to light, so he pulled out his Ice Staff. The light it emitted was soft and cool, the exact opposite of a regular torch. The others took the hint, Webber now carrying a very frightened Aracnie, and WX-78 carrying a very frightened Wes.

Walking cautiously as not to run into anything, they made slow progress to the Nightmare Throne. Along the way, WX-78 put Wes down, who had made exaggerated angry motions at the robot. Wilson didn't pay their silent quarrel any mind.

They finally arrived at their destination, and Webber and WX-78 gasped at the sight of no Charlie in her Throne. Wes just started silently freaking out. But Wilson did not react. He was thinking too hard.

So it's true... my dreams are warnings, was his first thought. They were telling the truth. So that means...

"Welcome, old friends," a hateful voice said from within the darkness. As you may have already guessed, it was Maxwell.

He stepped lightly into the glowing aura of Wilson's Staff, standing right beside the throne. His grin was cruel, eyes gleaming like two ugly green emeralds. "I can see you have come to speak with the queen. But as you can see, she is not here at the moment," the shadow god hissed, his voice slathered in bitter hatefulness.

"Where is Charlie, you damn shadow?" Wilson growled, voice low and threatening.

"That, my dearest High God, I cannot say just yet, but you certainly seem eager to find her. Especially considering that you would rather be at home reading or building. Am I correct?" Maxwell sneered.

The Ice god did not answer and received unbelieving stares from his fellow Gods. True, he disliked their company, but having them look at him in such a way made him uncomfortable.

Maxwell grinned, his green eyes daggers piercing into the four of them. "I can see I was right. You would rather be alone now, wouldn't you?" Wilson did not answer, his head lowering slightly.

Webber spoke before anyone else. "M-Mr. Wilson? Is that true? You don't want to be here right now?" His voice sounded hurt.

"Webber, it's not like-" Wilson tried to say, but he failed to finish. He was lying. Lying to a child. Sure, a Godchild, but still a child. How stupid could he get?

"Well, I only see one punishment suitable for being so antisocial with your fellow Gods. Even not telling them about your dreams that warned you of this," Maxwell scoffed, receiving more gasps.

Wilson was about to screech a childish comeback, but suddenly blinding light filled the room. Fiery, painful heat surrounded him, making him scream in agony.

The last thing he saw was a shadowy hand reaching for him.