A/N: Mṛtyu is Sanskrit for death. One of the things I like about Buddhism is that it actually considers death and suffering to be bad things which must be fought and ultimately defeated, instead of just complacently accepting them. Well, kinda. Nirvana literally means "blown out", which could be taken to mean the death of the soul. You have to wonder how bleak someone's worldview would have be, however, to think that the ultimate goal of life is to escape suffering by finding a way to permanently die…

Scar walked up the entryway to Pride Rock, as had become his evening ritual. It was still twilight, for he had finished his daily tasks sooner than expected. Nevertheless a sense of weariness overcame him, when he entered and found the great cave to be empty save for Sarabi, who was lying alone on the royal dais.

"Sarabi, where is your hunting party? And where are the children?"

"Simba is outside spending time with Nala, and I asked the huntresses to keep an eye on Nuka." Sarabi gave him a playful smile. "He reminds me a little of someone else, when he was younger."

"He's not my son." Scar crouched down at the edge of the bier and sighed heavily. "I don't know what else I can do, Sarabi. Our subjects are at the end of their patience. If Zira does not return quickly…"

"She will." Scar marvelled at the iron certainty in her voice – he had no idea how she managed that, or even if it was faked or real. "Zira is the fiercest huntress in my unit. You did well to choose her."

"Did I? For all I know she might have forgotten the entire reason I sent her, and is only just now spitting the old monkey out in realization." This earned him a dry chuckle. "Sarabi… do you think it's true what they say? That the Kings of the Past inflicted this drought upon us?"

Sarabi slinked closer. "Scar, I know you and Mufasa did not always get along, but if he looked down at us now he could do nothing but smile. You have done better as a king and as a parent than either one of us would ever have expected. If the Kings of the Past take issue with your leadership, then they are a pack of fools." She butted her head against his chest, and purred softly.

Scar recoiled in horror, realization finally setting in. "Sarabi, no. We can't."

"And why should we not?" Her smile was more fearsome than her iron features had ever been. "You have done well, your majesty. I do believe you deserve a reward."

"No," he said, mindless panic overtaking him. "If Zira comes back–"

She snorted. "I've known Zira since she was a cub. She won't mind."

"Mufasa could be looking down on us right now."

"Then he'll know to look away." She placed her paws upon his shoulders and pressed downwards.

He leapt away without any conscious decision being made. He ran away from the dais, through the tunnel and out of the cave, down the entryway and under the open night sky. He did not slow down until he was in the wide open savannah, with nothing but withered yellow grass stretching out all around him, and no sound but for his own footsteps and the crickets that chirped in the distance.

What am I doing? After all this time, what am I doing? Is all my life a lie?

He kept going, aimlessly, not knowing where to go. The dying grass crunched beneath his paws as he walked. At last he came across a dazzle of zebras, some sleeping upright while others were lying down next to an empty pit that had once been a pool of water. They did not seem to notice him as he snuck up, and the closest one only startled awake when he was close enough to touch.

"King Scar." The zebra stared at him blankly, the dullness of its expression apparent even in the low light of the stars above. It carried a strange, unhealthy smell. "What're you doing here?"

Scar stared at the animal with morbid curiosity. "Why are you still here? You know there is no more water, right?"

The zebra looked down at the empty pit. "Prince Simba told us to stay here."

"Yes, but we need you here because we want to eat you," Scar said, unable to help himself. "You know that, don't you? So why are you staying here?"

The zebra reached down and pulled some of the grass from the ground, chewing it along with the clump of dirt that was still attached. "Prince Simba told us to stay. We stay."

"It's no good, Sire." The voice that came from behind Scar was recognisable as belonging to Zazu, though there was a strange hollow quality to it. "I did tell you, didn't I? Herbivore intelligence is simply not up to snuff compared to the rest of us. No species can attain full sentience on a diet of grass alone."

"Zazu." The bird was perched on a withered tree which Scar had failed to notice in the moonlight, so blackened was its bark. Against the backdrop of stars, Zazu was little more than a silhouette himself, and if Scar did not know better he would have guessed him to be a pied crow or a raven. "I always thought…" He sighed. "All my life, I imagined what I would do differently if I were king. But now that it finally happened, all I find myself doing is to try and be more like my older brother."

Zazu turned his crooked beak sideways, and regarded Scar from his perch with a single gleaming eye. "Sire, the duty of a king is not to change things, but rather to ensure that everything remains the same. Think of it this way: The captain of the Lion Guard is always the King's second son – you, in this instance. But why should that be the case? Would it not be more sensible to pick the most competent leader amongst those available?"

"Good question," said Scar. Of course, he had never raised the issue while he was the leader.

"It's simple," said Zazu. "What matters is not competence, but consistency. There really isn't much skill involved in telling your lions to group up and charge the enemy – meaning no offense, Your Majesty. Frankly, we wouldn't expect to lose any straight-up fight regardless. But what if there were infighting or the line of command were called into question? The entire group could dissolve, as is indeed what ultimately happened. That is why it is better to point to someone and say: 'The son of that man rules, and will always rule', for having a poor leader is better than having no leader at all."

Scar stared at the dark silhouette, feeling faintly like he did not know this creature and was now meeting him for the first time. "You really don't believe in anything, do you, Zazu?"

"I believe in the attainable, Sire. Take your scheme to offer everyone in the Pridelands immortality, for example: That was a foolish thing to say, for it contradicted everything the Kings of the Past told us to justify their rule. Yet your solution, to only offer it to your greatest and most loyal servants, now that was an excellent way to promote the idea that even the most humble figure in the Pridelands could one day earn eternal bliss. That idea brought hope, and hope is what brings us happiness." There was a brief pause in which Scar was sure he saw Zazu smirk. "And dare I say it, Sire? When you told me that I could survive my own death and live with you amongst the stars – for one brief moment, it made me smile."

Scar stared at him in fascinated horror: He did not know how or why, but in that moment Zazu frightened him more than any predator ever could. He ducked low as the bird swooped down from its perch to land atop one of the zebras lying in the grass.

"Just imagine it, Sire: If I had never met your family, I might be dying right now, my bloated body lying in the middle of the savannah as some bird of prey pries at my open innards. But I begged your brother to be allowed to serve him, and now here I am. And in the end, isn't that the best any of us can hope for in life? Dying last?" He reached down and picked at the zebra with his beak, and pulled out what looked like a worm. "Are you sure you're not hungry, Sire? It's still fresh."

Scar stared for a moment, and then he screamed and ran.

"Now, you wouldn't be luring us into some kind of trap, would you, Scar?" The hyena matriarch eyed him with suspicion, while the two others glanced furtively around for any sign that they had been spotted.

"I assure you, Shenzi, you are the last on anyone's list of priorities right now." Even so he would never have risked taking hyenas all the way to Pride Rock, but he could not afford to wait for Zira any longer. He searched briefly along the cliff face, and then brushed aside the vines that obscured the entrance.

"Oh wow, a secret passage," Banzai said, snickering. "You lions really are fancy." Ed merely giggled.

"This is the old lair of the Lion Guard, from back when we still operated," Scar explained, as he led the way through the narrow opening. The passage led down into a great cave system, illuminated by a single beam of light that shone down through a hole in the ceiling. "It should have what we need."

"The Lion Guard!" Shenzi burst into a sudden fit of laughter. "You took hyenas to the secret lair of the Lion Guard – oh, your old dead kings would blow a lit if they knew!" A mischievous expression gleamed in her black eyes, and she elbowed him in the side. "Hey Scar, do you think you could make us all honorary members? Just to drive the point home?"

Scar gave her a look of vague annoyance. "We're not here for your amusement, Shenzi."

"Sure, we didn't come here for the jokes," Banzai chortled, "but I'd be lion if I said I didn't enjoy them!"

The three hyenas collapsed into a fit of hysterical laughter, rolling on the floor and flailing their limbs as they cackled. Scar eyed them with mild distaste. Shenzi and Banzai were undoubtedly the smartest of the hyenas that lived in the elephant graveyard, which was perhaps a greater indictment of their species than even Zazu would dare utter. Once, roving bands of hyenas had terrorised the Pridelands, back in Ahadi's day. Seeing them now, he imagined Simba could have savaged them all with a single bad joke.

Shenzi was the first to get up again, wiping her eyes with the back of her paws. "Hee hee. Don'tcha worry Scar, I get enough jollies from the fact that we're officially lion kings now. Hah! I can't wait to see the look on yer old man's face when I come to say hello in the afterlife. Teach him a thing or two about how inferior we really are."

Banzai waved his paw dismissively. "Bah, revenge in the afterlife sounds great and all, but I'm feeling hungry now. Where's that mountain of food you promised us, Scar?"

"Oh yeah," said Shenzi, "we wouldn't be forgetting who helped you cause that little accident back at the ravine, now would we, uncle Scar?"

"I assure you, if this works out the way I planned, you can take as much from the pantry as you can carry." It was not as if he was feeling hungry, anyway. He was not sure he would ever feel hungry again.

As the four of them descended ever further into the cavern's tunnels, Banzai's eyes fell upon the mural paintings that lined the walls. "Hey, what's these then? You a painter, Scar?"

"These images were made by the mjuzi of the past," Scar explained, though he did not know why he bothered. "They detail the long history of our species. I used to come down here all the time as a cub, when I couldn't sleep, or when I was not wanted. Sometimes I would just stare at them for hours, trying to make them move with my mind as the mjuzi could, but I never managed."

"Hah, talk about your strange hobbies." Shenzi laughed, slapping him on the shoulder. "Ahh, you're alright, Scar. You're alright."

As they went further down the air became cooler and cooler, until finally the tunnel opened up into a large cavern, revealing a small glistening lake in the centre.

"A pool!" Banzai jumped up, outraged. "The Pridelands are dying of thirst, and they have a pool down here. I can't believe these lions!" He scuttled over to the edge, and made to dip in his legs. "Oh well, be a shame not to make use of – ahh, this water is freezing!"

"Indeed it is," said Scar. "Peculiar phenomenon, isn't it? The currents are different down here, I think. I remembered this place while thinking of anything that could help me make sense of the spirit world, and I recalled something Rafiki once said – something about cold water, and its effects on the mind." It was remarkable, what an appropriate sense of urgency could do for one's power of recollection.

The only question was: Would it be cold enough?

"Alright," Shenzi said, "work with me here, Scar. How is a pool of water, no matter how cold, gonna help us find out more about the spirit world? And uh, why should we care, exactly?"

"Think, Shenzi." Scar sighed. He knew the hyena matriarch was not stupid, but getting other animals to actually use their brain had always proved a near-impossible task for him. "You and I have a spot in the afterlife now – fantastic! But we still don't know if it really works that way, or even if it does we still don't know what the afterlife will look like. What if Mufasa and the others really are gods up in the stars, while you have no power there? What then? What happens to your revenge then, Shenzi?"

He noted to his satisfaction that she gulped nervously – her sense of imagination was adequate then, at least, though he doubted she could think of anything as horrific as he could.

"Treat it like you would any other war," Scar continued, "and the next step becomes obvious. If the battlefield is unknown, then you should send out a scout."

"A scout!" Banzai lapsed into a fit of laughter. "Someone to scout the afterlife! How're you gonna manage that, Scar? You'd need to kill someone, and then you'd need to, somehow…" He looked at Scar and Shenzi, then at the lake, and paled. "Wait, no. I don't know what you're planning, but no."

"Freezing water cools the brain until it doesn't work anymore," Scar explained. "Then when you die of the cold, it preserves your functions, so that when you're pulled out again you're alive once more." Or that was how Rafiki had explained it, anyway: The actual story had involved a frozen lake a thousand miles south of here, and a mythical figure that might never even have existed.

"Why does it have to be me? Why not… why not Ed?"

The three of them turned to regard the last member of their team, who stared blankly ahead, his tongue hanging out as he giggled softly to himself. "Eheheheh… eheheheheh… heh."

Ed always gave Scar the creeps. He was pretty sure Shenzi only lugged the mute idiot around because he was her halfwit brother or something. He had never cared enough to ask.

Banzai looked pleadingly at Shenzi, but the fear that Scar's words had imprinted was still plainly written on her face. She gestured towards the pool, and Banzai whimpered and headed there.

"Good. Now Shenzi, I will need your help holding him down." Before Banzai could protest, Scar grabbed his neck and forced him under with a splash. Gosh, that water really was cold on the paws.

Besides him, Shenzi was doing her part in holding him under, apparently with equal distaste for the cold based on her expression. "How long are we supposed to hold him under for?"

"I don't know," said Scar. "It's not as if I've done this before. Come to think of it, I think we might be supposed to let him breathe during the process. It rather defeats the point of the exercise if he drowns."

Based on unspoken consensus they raised his head above the surface, and then when they saw no more signs of struggle, pulled his body out of the water. "Okay," said Shenzi. "Now what do we do?"

"Get him to start breathing again," said Scar. "Don't you hyenas know anything of medicine?"

Growling, Shenzi set to work pumping the water out of his lungs, and after a few tense moments, Scar was relieved to see Banzai's chest moving up and down again. His entire body was wet and shivering, and his teeth clattered with an awful sound, but he was alive.

Shenzi carefully pushed him to an upright position, looking more worried than ever before. "Banzai? Did you make it to the spirit world? What did you see?"

Slowly, his eyes opened – but when they did they stared out at nothing. His tongue lulled from his mouth as he panted. Then, he started laughing, his chortles echoing against the walls and filling the entire cavern with the sound of his giggling. "Eheheheheh… eheheheheh…. eheheheheheh….."

The next day, Scar received word that Zira had been found.