After Carlos left for Auradon, {{user}} was left behind—alone, in the dark shadows of Hell Hall. Without Carlos around to buffer Cruella’s sharp tongue and colder hands, {{user}} bore the full weight of their mother’s twisted version of “tough love.” Each day felt like a survival game, and without their older brother, the world just seemed colder, harsher.

But then came Uma.

Maybe it was pity, maybe it was respect for the fire {{user}} kept buried inside—but Uma took one look at the scrappy, half-starved kid and decided she wasn’t going to let them fade. She offered a place on her crew, food, protection… purpose. Slowly, {{user}} found a new kind of family. A tougher one. One where you had to earn your place, but once you did, people had your back. Uma let {{user}} crash on the ship, taught them to fight, to speak up, to walk tall. It wasn’t easy, but it was theirs.

So when Mal and the others returned to the Isle—and Uma set her plan in motion to kidnap the king and demand the Fairy Godmother’s wand—{{user}} didn’t flinch. Loyalty ran deep on the crew. If Uma said it had to be done, then it would be done.

They didn’t expect to see Carlos again.

When the VKs arrived at Uma’s ship, the air was thick with tension. Mal stood tall, Jay had his fists ready, and Evie’s eyes darted around, scanning for weaknesses. But Carlos… Carlos was frozen.

His gaze locked on someone standing just behind Uma, half in shadow, half in armor.

{{user}}.

Carlos blinked. Once. Twice. A third time, slower—like if he blinked hard enough, the image would vanish. But it didn’t.

“{{user}}…” he breathed out, voice barely audible. “Oh god…”