(Author's Notes: This chapter's story is based on the Ducktales comic series, issue 3!)

"Ow!" You say as Della's elbow hits you in the face. "Sorry!" Della replies, moving her arm out of the way as she drives down the the bumpy dirt road. Next to you, Scrooge raises his arm. "Come scooch by me, Lassie. Della needs some space to move right now." He tells you. You nod, shifting in your seat to move over to him. The room in this truck is sparse, and with how treacherous the path ahead is, Della has no choice but move around as much as possible to keep from running off the road.

As Scrooge puts his arm around you, he takes three small jellybeans out of his pocket, examining them with an amused smile. "That might have been the most amazing adventure of all Y/N, with the most astonishing treasure as a souvenir...and just to think, it's a few wee jellybeans!"

You raise an eyebrow at your father. "That was HARDLY what I'd call your most AMAZING adventure, Daddy. Besides, something's worth shouldn't be boiled down to how large it is or how it looks." He chuckles, ruffling your hair. "True enough dear, but ye cannae deny that one could not even hazard a guess at the incredible properties of these beans with just a look."

"You might want to put those back in your pocket, Uncle Scrooge. I'd hate to stop short and have them fly out the window! We'd have to search through every green field in Provence, like an Easter egg hunt!" Della tells her uncle, who shrugs, placing them back in his pocket. Suddenly, you hear muffled complaints come from behind you, and Scrooge gives a sly smile to the massive cookie in the back of the truck, which has the outline of Donald's body bulging out of it.

You cast a worried look back at the bizarre object. "Are you sure Donald is getting enough air in there, Daddy?" You ask Scrooge. "Not to worry, lass." Scrooge replies flippantly. "We made sure to poke enough air holes in there, so Donald's getting all the oxygen he needs. Well, if he doesn't waste it all on yelling, that is." Sufficed to say, that doesn't exactly boost your confidence, so you tap lightly on the back windshield. "DONALD? ARE YOU ALRIGHT BACK THERE?" You ask. Thankfully, the answer comes, though it's so muffled and gargled that you barely understand it.

"Yeah toots, I'm fine! I won't be for long though if the birds see how I've ended up, and peck me to PIECES! I'll be a pile of crumbs! This is all your dad's fault!" Beside you, your father groans, slapping his forehead. "Oh, there he goes again. Glad to see we've reestablished the routine." He grumbles. You tilt your head to the side, an amused smile on your face. "Well, in this case he's not exactly WRONG, is he?"

|Some time ago...|

You walk down the solid stone steps, following closely behind your father, who reaches for a bookcase made of oak, pulling a very old book of the shelves and glancing over the pages for moment before slapping the book shut and placing it back. All over the walls, there are pictures of an anthropomorphic dog with a long black beard and an arrogant smirk on his face. On one, he holds a platter of cookies with two oven mitts and an apron.

"This guy Nostradogmus must have really liked himself. It must have taken six months to pose for these portraits in oils, the egomaniac!" Donald complains as he and Della follow after you, gesturing toward each portrait. "What I can't understand is how he could possibly have afforded all...THIS." You say, gesturing all around at the inside of this ancient castle. Scrooge turns to you with a smile. "I'm glad you asked, lassie! You see, Nostradogmus became famous for his predictions of the future. People would come far and wide to hear his words, paying him countless amounts of money to tell them their future, and nine times out of ten, he was RIGHT!"

Your eyes widen in wonder. "Wow! Did anyone ever find out how he did it?" You ask. Della walks up behind you, gesturing toward the portrait of the cookies. "Well, nobody ever found any real PROOF, but legend has it he was able to travel back in time by eating magic jellybeans, so he could know what happened in the future!" She explains. "Despite his living in the sixteenth century, the last six of Nostradogmus's jellybeans are reputed to be hidden here, in his castle!" Scrooge adds.

Donald scoffs, putting his hands on his hips as he glares down the portrait. "Isn't it CHEATING to go back in time and tell everybody you know the future?" He asks. "I mean, it isn't as if he's LYING, Donald. After all, he DID see it. He was THERE!" You tell the gargled sailor. "The lass has a good point at that! Besides, just imagine the confidence ye would have to attempt anything if you knew ye could fix ANY mistake you made before ye made it!" Scrooge adds again.

"Nostradogmus became confident enough to try his hand at everything, even cooking! He baked the same cookies over and over again until he found the PERFECT recipe!" Scrooge continues. "That's unlikely, considering nothing in the world IS perfect." You reply rather tersely. "Besides, those cookies look OVERDONE to me." Della shrugs. "Even so, he was ever PROUD of considering himself one of the great French pastry chefs!" She pauses, leaning in to squint at the cookies in the portrait. "But, speaking of...those jellybeans look a bit TOO real to me!" You cock your head to the side, walking forward to see what she's looking at. Gleaming, multicolored jellybeans are embedded in the portrait's cookies, almost glowing with an ethereal light.

"That's because they ARE real! The magic jellybeans are HERE! You found them, Della!" You exclaim happily. A proud smile on her face, Della reaches up, popping out each bean at a quick pace.

All of a sudden, the door at the top of the stairs slams shut, locking you all inside. A strange, blue mist rises up out of the ground, forming into a glowing avatar of the man in the portraits. "And so am I...to TRAP you THIEVES!" The ghost shouts, enraged. "HEY!" You protest angrily, offended. "We're not thieves!" The dead man raises a brow, placing his hands on his hips haughtily. "Are you here to take my property?" You pause, thinking over the question. "Well, YES, but..."

"Then how in the world AREN'T you thieves!? Bah, no matter! I KNEW you four would turn up eventually! You're so PREDICTABLE!" He turns away from you, placing his hand on his chest and smirking arrogantly. "And JUST as I predicted, you want my jellybeans so you can learn to be better chefs than me! But you uninvited guests have fallen into my TRAP!"

Nostradogmus suddenly shoots forward, leaning in to laugh in your face. Surprised, you stumble back into Della, who steps out in front of you and glares defiantly up at the ghostly prophet. "Back off, buddy! I don't know who you think you are, but that doesn't give you the right to treat my kid like-"

Nostradogmus rolls his eyes, clearly not caring one bit about being polite. "As I was saying, my castle is a MAZE, and there's only ONE way out. But it's IMPOSSIBLE for anyone to find! Throughout my puzzle, there are SIX traps that are intricate, detailed, and EXCESSIVELY clever, if I do say so myself!" He proclaims.

"I bet you say so yourself a LOT!" Della replies, snark just dripping from her tone. The "master chef" huffs irritably, crossing his arms. "Laugh if you like, but there's no way you can avoid my traps!" He points to the beans in Della's hands. "The only solution is to eat one of the six jellybeans! Each one will take you back in time SIX MINUTES so you can avoid the trap..."

Suddenly, a trap door opens up under the four of you, sending you all tumbling into a black abyss!

"Once you've ALREADY FALLEN INTO IT of course!" Nostradogmus laughs, and you see your entire life flash before your eyes as you plummet to the ground.

And then...IT happens.

An angry, purple aura surrounds your form.

Black liquid leaks out of your eyes, nose, and mouth, darkening your feathers and enveloping your body.

Your size increases to that of a tank, and with an enraged roar you hook your fingers into the solid stone walls of the trap, stopping your descent. You kick your legs into the wall behind you, making your own body into a makeshift barrier for everyone else to fall onto.

"Great job, Y/N! You saved our lives!" Della cheers, giving your shoulder an affectionate pat. "We're not out of the woods yet! Lassie, if you can hear me, I need ye to climb up out of this pit. Everyone else, HANG ON!" Scrooge orders. Nodding, you position yourself carefully, beginning your climb to the top steadily. "It's no elevator, but it's better than nothing! *Ulp* I THINK!" Donald complains as you rise to the top. However the trap doors down shut, leaving you four in the dark. Growling in irritation, you tense up your body, every newfound muscle a coiled spring, before leaping up, smashing through the trap door with both fists and almost reaching the ceiling before falling back to the floor.

"WHAT!? How did you escape my TRAP!?" Nostradogmus shouts angrily, before he sees you. "W-What is THAT!?" He asks, pointing at you. Della laughs as you shrink back down to your normal self, ruffling your hair. "Let's just say you're not the ONLY one with a few tricks up your sleeve!" She tells the chef with a smirk. Nostradogmus growls, balling his hands up into fists. "Y-you CHEATED! I don't know how, but you MUST have! NO ONE can beat me!" He yells. "Says the guy who RIGGED THE GAME!" Donald shoots back.

"Grrh! No matter, I'll still win! Even with this... this..." He points to you, finger shaking in fury. "Brainless BRUTE managed to help you escape this round, my OTHER traps will surely force you to use up your beans! After all, ingenious brains beats bumbling brawn every time!" He declares. You huff in irritation, putting your hands on your hips. "Well, that's hardly a way to speak to a LADY, now is it? Who taught you your manners, the pigs in a sty?"

"Come on, everyone!" Scrooge calls, gesturing for you all to follow him. "We still have five traps to go before we can leave, so let's get the lead out!" Nodding, you three run after him, sprinting through the maze like halls of the castle. Something seems to catch Donald's eye, and he runs down another route. "Donald, NO!" You cry after him. "We have to stay together if-" Before you can finish, a stream of water blasts out of one of the gargoyle heads stationed on the walls, hitting Donald full force in the face. The gargled sailor slides back to the group on the now wet floor, spitting out a gallon of water.

"Sorry, Guys! I thought this might be the way out. Don't they keep fire extinguishers near the EXIT?" He splutters. "Not in sixteenth century castles!" Della scolds. All around you, gargoyle heads open up, spraying out torrents of water. The room begins to flood, and everyone huddles together as the water rises above your knees. "Did ye call him an egomaniac, Donald? Wrong! He's just a plain, everyday MANIAC!" Scrooge exclaims. You slog through the water, pulling up your sleeves. "Everybody, stand back! I'll..." You begin, but Della grabs your shoulder, stopping you. "Y/N, don't! We've got no idea where this water is coming from, or even where we ARE! Smashing through the walls right now might just make everything WORSE!" She tells you.

"Well, what else do you suggest we..." You are cut off yet again as the water rises above your head.