Emerging from the abyss, a shattered soul survives. His comrades are gone, his weapon lost, and he embarks on a struggle to regain both. To do so, he will have to fall to a level he had never even considered: he will be forced to utilize the very darkness he strove to destroy. Only by disregarding his morals will he really be able to get them back, though there may be more than just a loss of his honor involved should he fail...

This is the story of what happened to Cloud Strife after he was torn from his friends and the lengths that he pursues to try and find them again. It tells of his deal with the devil, and explains how he acquired

The Twisted Blade

Sequel to "Escape from Hollow Bastion."

He was being smothered; crushed by a massive weight so intense his senses nearly ceased functioning in the darkness enveloping him. His eyes blackened as he fought for breath and consciousness, feeling the both of them slipping away from him as he struggled without moving.

He was suffocating.

The dark congregation, gathered within the innards of the castle around a seeing glass, watched him falter with more than just a touch of sadistic amusement. The five of them emanated darkness, mismatched in appearance but unified in purpose. Each one's style was different than that of the others, some blatant in their methods while others were just as subtly cruel. Their seeing glass, a flat plane of enchanted sorts, glowed eerily in the dimly lit room; seeing one another was not a priority for any of those present, and to them the darkness was much more comfortable than light would have been.

"The kid's not gonna last," a fiery, robed figure remarked.

"Ay, he's right," another agreed, feathered hat bobbing as he nodded, "The boy's like a fish out of water: floundering and breathless." He laughed—so did the others. All but one.

The fiery figure rubbed his chin with a set of long blue fingers, contemplating a budding plan that was forming in his head. The kid was floundering in the darkness, true, but he was still alive even though he'd fallen from a cliff and had been swarmed by shadow Heartless. He was weaponless, wounded, and yet still he was protecting his heart of hearts with nothing more than the strength of his own spirit.

There could be definite potential in this one, Hades mused. I need a new sap. One of the Touched may be just what it takes to finally get rid of my problem…

"He shows surprising resilience," the black-robed witch presiding over the group remarked. Hades pondered a moment longer, then…

"Hey Maleficent, I've got a proposition for you…"

Cloud Strife was aware of much and little.

He was blindingly aware of a stabbing pain from his ankle, broken in thirty-foot fall onto solid stone. The concrete hadn't given—his bones had. Further, he could feel the numb tingling of the burn on his chest, the remnant of a Heartless's fireball. There was the feel of cuts, the lasting gifts from shadows he hadn't had a weapon to fend off. The throbbing of his head, most prominent above his left eye, where he'd smashed it against a stone during the second of his falls, this one down the sharp, craggy precipice and onto the ledge he currently occupied.

At least, he thought it was a ledge. It was hard to tell, for he could hardly see.

Forcing open his eyes, the youth tried to understand what it was that was suffocating him. What the terrible weight was, what the horrible cold blackness was that was trying to stifle him. And when he realized what he was fighting against, Cloud's already short breath failed him.

The writhing blackness pooled right beside him on the cold rock, reaching and groping at his shuddering chest with claws like ice. Cloud winced as those dagger-like fingers, instead of cutting him, slid into his flesh, pawing and groping around within without leave visible marks. The feel of those digits—the very closeness of that putrid darkness weighed on him, crushing his lungs and tightening his throat as efficiently as a hangman's noose.

I have…to get them…away…part of him realized, though most of his mind was fogging with the same blackness that was attacking him. His thoughts were bogged down and slowed in coming, though one broke through the threatening unconsciousness.

I have...to protect…my heart…

For that, of course, was what they were after. How they had not already gotten it was beyond him, but what will the ex-SOLDIER had left refused to allow them to take it without a fight.

--Well, this is the start of the first of two sequels to "EfHB"...anyone interested? Please R&R!

-K-