This story is a response to Riku Uzumaki's "Xion: Rebirth Challenge," as posted on his profile. You can read the full guidelines there, but the shortened version is that, after her death in 358 Days, Xion was reborn in the past as a human (named "Shion") and became Kairi's elder sister. Though the plot itself is very open to interpretation, the key element is that Shion and Kairi were separated when the Heartless attacked Radiant Garden and Kairi was sent to Destiny Islands and they are now trying to find each other. This is my attempt to fill in the blanks :)

In addition to making this story possible in the first place, Riku Uzumaki is also beta-reading this, so that's awesome.

One final note: neither Prince Scott nor "the Dark Seeker" are OCs. Scott was a minor character from Final Fantasy II and the masked Seeker is...well, that's for you to find out...

Splintering Ennead

Chapter One: Birth by Divergence

The light blinded her. Their cries deafened her. But it was the absence of pain—the absence of feeling—which confounded her. The ten year-old girl was laying down on a moving bed of a sort—this much she knew—but with a turn of her head as her vision slowly adjusted, she found herself in a brightly-lit emergency room, surrounded by scrambling doctors and her fellow survivors.

Survivors… Then, we're still alive?

All too immersive visions of their escape attempt replayed in her mind. She was back on the airship, sirens blaring all around and the unnamed newborn bawling in her arms.

"Shion, follow me!" the blonde-haired prince had called to her amid the fire and destruction.

She was beyond terrified. That moment in time—their desperate flight from the faceless "Dark Seeker" and his concentration camp—had been the pinnacle of a ten-month nightmare where all she'd known and loved was destroyed by a sadist and his army of shadow-creatures. What were those monsters…?

The prince shook her from her terror-trance by grabbing her shoulder, "We have to go!" and led her and the cradled infant through claustrophobic hallways, rupturing aerium pipes and explosions closing in from behind. She knew their destination was the escape pods, yet, precious meters before they could reach them, a nearby wall separating the interior from the chaotic night sky was blown apart, and on the other side, a smaller aircraft, burning and spinning wildly out of control, careened inevitably towards them. They would never clear the distance in time. Prince Scott didn't say a word. He simply threw himself over the girl and the infant and wrapped his arms around them, his back to the looming inferno to take the brunt of the blow. Petrified though Shion was, she knew Scott's altruism would amount to nothing against a burning missile of that magnitude. They were all going to die. She held the crying infant closer, squeezed her own eyes shut—

—and now, in the emergency room, the charred body of Scott was trolleyed beside her on a hospital bed of his own. He wasn't moving, yet the ungainly breathing apparatus and the pulse oximeter he was plugged into was proof enough that he still lived, if only by a thread.

Rolled onto her side, the wide-eyed girl extended an arm for the scorched hero just beyond her reach. "Prince Scott," she weakly muttered, "please don't die…" But in her heart, she knew his time was fast approaching. He had only a few hours at best.

But then a far more pressing dread possessed her. "Where's the baby?" she asked in a terrified whisper. No one heard her in the chaos of the emergency room. She pressed again, beseeching no one in particular, "Where's the baby?!"

She didn't wait for a response she'd never get. With no regard to the pain suddenly pouring into her as she moved, the girl with the waist-length raven hair pushed herself upright and practically leapt off the bed. One foot reached the cold floor, but no second connection was made, taking the breath right out of her before she plummeted face-first onto the linoleum tiles. That got the doctors' attention. They were upon her in seconds and lifted her back onto the bed. It was in the ascent that silent shock overwhelmed Shion when she found her left leg now ended at a bandaged and bloodied stump where her knee once was.

It was now two days ago that the infant girl's cries reached beyond their cramped cell and flooded the prison hallway. Shion had been at the fourteen year-old mother's side as another of their female cellmates delivered the red-haired baby, and she was the first to notice Mayu had died mere seconds after childbirth. The last thing the unfortunate mother heard was someone exclaim, "It's a girl!" and the thunderous applause of every other wrongly-enslaved soul in the prison wing. Mayu never saw her daughter, but perhaps it was for the best, or so Shion mused; after nine months of pregnancy in inhospitable conditions, the red-haired child only resembled the sadistic guard who'd had his way with Mayu one month after she was captured. The baby looked nothing like her mother.

It was only hours after discovering the loss of her leg that Shion remembered no one had thought to name Mayu's daughter—two days after the fact. The ten year-old juggled various names in her mind, if for no other reason than to distract her from the nightmare she was still waking from. Scott had died right next to her thirty-seven minutes ago.

Staring at that innocent, sleeping face through the window of the nursery only reminded Shion of how narrowly she and the baby avoided death—how, if anything had gone even slightly differently, their lives would have ended on that burning airship. At the very least, she was thankful the nameless child survived. But without a family to raise her…

She clenched the arm-rests of the wheelchair and gritted her teeth in frustration, her long hair falling over her searing eyes. Don't stop thinking! She needs a name! She deserves that much!

Footsteps and voices drew near. By the sound of the conversation, they were heading to the same emergency room she escaped from. Their dialogue stopped when they spotted her and the doctor leading the pack called, "Excuse me, young miss, but shouldn't you be resting right now?"

Shion didn't turn to face her. She only stared at Mayu's child. "I can't. Someone needs to watch over the baby."

The doctor chuckled. "I assure you, our maternity ward staff is perfectly competent in all babysitting matters. Though, I see the nurses need to pay better attention if you escaped their watch. How did you leave the emergency room?"

"Hopped out," she monotoned.

On one foot?! The doctor was amazed. "But, where did you get the wheelchair?"

"Found it."

The doctor and her company were speechless and visibly amused. Shion added, "A one-legged girl hopped out of the emergency room, stole a wheelchair, and rode it all the way down to the maternity ward without being stopped by the doctors or security. Please excuse me if I don't think you can watch a little baby." She didn't mean to sound rude; she was only deeply concerned for the infant and didn't know if she'd ever see her again.

"But unlike little girls," the doctor countered, "newborns aren't master thieves."

"Maybe I'll steal her." There was no hint of interest towards the doctor in Shion's voice: only a twinge of remorse for hers and the infant's unknown fates.

A deep-voiced man in bright, royal robes answered her, "Her family might not appreciate that."

"She doesn't have one. I watched her mother die in childbirth." Her spectators were silent once more, this time struck by the gravity of her words. "My family's gone, too. The Dark Seeker orphaned a lot of us. This kid and I, we don't have anyone left. I just wanna make sure she turns out alright…that she has a chance to grow up like other kids…" Her words drifted as tears slowly pooled and spilled from her eyes until the wheelchair-bound girl threw her head in her hands and openly mourned in front of the grownups watching her, unconcerned for what they thought.

Some seconds later, the deep-voiced man approached her and knelt beside her. He spoke in a calm, soothing tone, "I am truly sorry for your loss. And I can't bring your families back, but I may be able to give you and the little one a second chance."

Shion allowed her hands to move aside so she could better look at the kindhearted stranger. The tears still flowed, but the blonde-haired man offered her a handkerchief from his chest pocket, which Shion quickly accepted and wiped her tears and nose with. He spoke again, "My name is Ansem, and I happen to know someone who'd be more than happy to take you, her, and every other child the Dark Seeker orphaned into her home."

Shion spoke through sniffles. "You—you do?"

Ansem nodded. "Indeed. So, you needn't worry about your futures. You will be well taken care of and never have to fear any monsters ever again." Enough of her tears wiped away, Shion lowered the handkerchief and gazed pleadingly into the older man's eyes. He spoke again, "What is your name, child?"

She swallowed some of the remorse clogging her throat and sniffled. "Shion."

Ansem smiled. "A beautiful name. And what of the little one?"

Again, Shion stiffened. For all the time spent brainstorming a name for the infant, nothing felt right. She was deciding what this newborn would be called for the rest of her life, possibly even influencing how she would grow and see herself throughout the years—a responsibility no ten year-old should be burdened with. The words fell quietly and despairingly from her mouth, "She doesn't have one."

The blonde man raised an eyebrow. "Oh? But, she'll need a name for the registration to be official. Are you sure no one gave her one?"

She nodded bitterly.

Ansem sighed. "I see." He rose and said gently, "Then, there is no hurry. Take all the time you need to choose. A name is a very important thing."

As he turned to leave, the distantly familiar voice of a boy called through Shion's mind, "Kairi!" The wheelchair-bound girl's eyes opened wide, but she stifled any gasp. She swore she'd never heard the voice or the name before, yet their familiarity left an eerie and bittersweet swelling in her heart. It felt so right…

"Kairi!" she blurted suddenly, drawing the attention of those who'd turned to leave. Settling down somewhat, she repeated, "Kairi. Her name is Kairi. She's going to be my sister."

Ansem smiled amicably. "And so she shall. Take good care of her, Shion. She'll doubtlessly look up to you."

Shion nodded, and when the others finally departed, she spoke at last to her new sister, "I'm going to look out for you, Kairi. No one's going to hurt us ever again."

It was sunset the next day when the orphans arrived at the estate in their world's capital city: Radiant Garden. There were seven of them in all; wheelchair-bound Shion with the infant Kairi on her lap, eight year-old Aerith holding the hands of five year-old Ienzo and two year-old Yuffie, aloof eleven year-old Squall (half of his face heavily bandaged from a scar received during their escape from the camp), and eighteen year-old Cid Highwind pushing Shion's wheelchair. Of all the orphans, Cid felt the most out of place, given his age, but had been assured there was a home for him with the others to help him transition into adulthood. Having spent the last ten months of their lives in hopeless perdition, all were malnourished, all were unclean, all were clothed in simple prison rags, and all had fractured spirits in desperate need of mending.

Their new guardian, "Grandmother Hikari," warmly greeted them all in the courtyard, promising them every luxury and freedom they were denied under the Dark Seeker's jurisdiction. A far enough distance away, Ansem and his top scientist, Even, conversed about the future.

The sage-king sighed through his nose as he beheld the seven youths being welcomed into their new lives. "Prince Scott's death was tragic enough. Now, we must burden our consciences by deceiving these children."

Even, the scientist beside him, replied, "Master Ansem, you know this is the most merciful way to handle the situation. The Dark Seeker's adult prisoners' immune systems were resistant to the long-term effects of his experiments, but the children…they weren't so lucky. Granted, the dark energy they were infused with hasn't spread past the microscopic level, but there's no guarantee it won't over time. If that's the case, these children will succumb to it sooner or later and we'll need to be there to stop them. At least this way, they'll believe it was only charity that granted them a new home."

"But how long can this ruse last? If any of them give in to the dark energy that monster cursed them with, how will we handle this? You know as well as I there's no known cure for their condition. The poison dormant in them will one day awaken, and when these children learn the truth of their nature, this illusion of a loving home will shatter and they will die feeling alone and reviled."

"That's not a definite possibility," the scientist tried to assure him. "There's still a slim chance the Darkness may not awaken at all, and even if it does, it won't overtake them all at once. It'll take years for them to even be aware of it, and hopefully, by then, we'll have synthesized a cure or a treatment for them."

"But this is pure conjecture, Even. We are faced with a threat yet unknown to us, and if we cannot understand our enemy, how can we hope to fight it?"

Even was silent some few moments, mildly taken aback by his superior's attitude. "I've never known you to be a pessimist, Master Ansem. Why now of all times?"

Grandmother Hikari had finished greeting the children and she now led them inside the grand estate. The royal guards, Dilan and Aeleus, stood on either side of the entrance. The sage-king gazed dejectedly at the orphans as the guards closed the doors behind them. "One night before Prince Scott discovered the existence of this 'Dark Seeker' and freed his victims, I had another prophetic dream."

Even's eyes widened in silent alarm. "But…you've not had such a dream in years! …Well, no matter—if you've divined the worriment, the solution can't be far behind."

The older man showed no signs of encouragement, but his remorse only deepened. The children were inside by now, likely settling in and marveling at the majesty of their new home. Ansem relayed to his disciple, "After witnessing such a dream as this, I fear there will be no solution uncovered in our lifetimes. I beheld our world conquered by beings of pure Darkness. They corrupted our planet to its very core and slew countless innocents, turning the earth itself inhospitable to those of flesh and blood. Some refugees escaped and discovered other inhabited worlds, where they sought havens from the shadowy monsters which persecuted them. But the dark creatures spread their reach all across the cosmos, devouring entire worlds and bringing only death and despair."

By now, Even was petrified at what he heard. The supposed existence of life among the stars was, in itself, beyond rational consideration, but for those other worlds and the trillions of lives they sustained to be destroyed by what was essentially an army from Hell…

Ansem continued, "And yet, the most frightening revelation was discovering who was behind such an incorrigible act of genocide…"

The Dark Seeker, Even guessed in his mind. It has to be!

"Though I could not see the perpetrator's face, I heard his name clearly enough." He briefly choked and swallowed the pangs of sorrow building within him just enough to finish speaking. "He was called 'Ansem: the Seeker of Darkness.'"

"Preposterous!" Even screamed indignantly. "You would never tread such a path! You are the sage-king of Radiant Garden and have always been faithful to the needs of the people; it is completely absurd to believe you would ever become such a monster!"

"I don't profess to know if it was truly I who doomed the universe: only that the madman used my name."

Even scoffed. "You're talking about this omen as though it's already happened. Was there truly no silver lining? Hasn't your wisdom divined a means of survival as well?"

Ansem shook his head. "Nothing."

The scientist took some moments to ponder the weighty revelation. "Are you telling me those seven children will cause the end of the universe?"

"The true identity of the Darkness' catalyst evaded me. It may be a force that grows within these children or it may be another entity altogether. All I truly know is that Darkness will come and we will be powerless against it."

Even scowled. "Then, why keep these seven alive if they're as potentially dangerous as you say? If we dispose of them—"

Ansem turned to him, his features sharp and incensed. "Murder seven children for crimes they did not commit? Whether or not they prove to be the catalyst, we cannot act against them until we are completely certain. If we act on fear and burn everyone accused of witchery, then how are we better than the dark creatures that would murder us? If we are to survive, we must be the better species and prove we are worthy of surviving."

The scientist was no less incensed. "So, that's it? Merely observe the little time-bombs and wait for our deaths?"

Ansem smiled wryly. "Who's the pessimist now? For the time being, your orders are to study the children, periodically scan them for any dark anomalies in their genes, and research a cure or a treatment to save them, no matter how futile the efforts. In the meantime, I will build our armies to prepare us for the day when this so-called 'Ansem' draws first blood." The sun finally set behind the horizon and night claimed the sky, casting all in shadow with only the stars to provide light. "Armageddon is coming—there's no stopping it—but if we are prepared, we may just be able to survive it."

A form concealed in tattered and frayed black cloth stood wraithlike atop a cliff overlooking the liberated internment camp. By now, it was swarming with Radiant Garden's forces, actively seeking a trail that would lead them to the vanished owner's whereabouts. Only the light of the moon illuminated the man's vague frame beneath his cloak: tall and slim, yet broad-shouldered and toned. Contrasting the dark shadows under the veil's cowl was a full-faced mask: equal parts weathered bronze and tempered ceramic. Pale, sallow eyes peered from behind the mask and observed in minute detail the goings on of the distant death-camp he'd lost to the enemy. No human eyes could have seen what he did across that great expanse, yet physical distance was a barrier ignored by the masked man's senses.

All that work…lost… We will need to rebuild. My former master will not defeat me so easily.

Another presence with a heart as black as his own manifested behind him. Xehanort.

He regarded his visitor, his voice crisp and yielding dense, metallic echoes, "I was wondering if you'd come around."

The elderly man replied with a wicked smile on his face, "I had to see it for myself, O great Seeker," he addressed him sardonically, "but it seems Ansem has defeated you. Your test subjects have been liberated and will profess all they've endured to the most powerful man on this world. The sage-king now knows there is a growing darkness beyond his borders and he knows its name: 'the Dark Seeker.' How long will you last with all of Radiant Garden demanding your head on a pike?"

"A minor setback—nothing more," the masked Seeker coolly retorted. "There are still other worlds we're harvesting from, and Ansem knows nothing of their existence. My Dark Warrior program will see results, and in fourteen years' time, when the Heartless finally meet their match, my new soldiers will be more than ready for deployment. No stray child wielding a Keyblade shall vanquish us."

Xehanort sneered. "Your prophecies again. There are times when even my patience is tested by your lack of evidence. And yet, gathering these 'Princesses of Heart' is proving to be a worthwhile investment. Three already have been captured and four remain."

"Two of those four might not have been born yet, and the other two's whereabouts are currently unknown," the masked Seeker replied. "But it pleases me to know you've found faith in these 'prophecies' of mine."

A skeptical look crossed the old man's face. "Still, I wonder just how much you've kept to yourself. You claim to know the future, but I doubt you've told me all that is necessary."

The Dark Seeker in the bronze-and-clay mask answered, "I assure you, Xehanort, your prosperity is and has always been my top priority. You are the savior I foresaw in my visions: the hero who led the universe into Darkness and paved the way for its glorious rebirth. But everything I choose to withhold is only for your benefit. There are things you are not yet ready to know, but when the time comes, I shall reveal all."

The old man smiled. "And is your name also one of these terrible truths you're foresworn to withhold?"

A deep silence lingered between them, until, to Xehanort's great amusement, the so-called prophet avowed, "It is I: Ansem, the Seeker of Darkness." Xehanort's ancient visage brightened considerably into a wide-eyed and twisted smile at hearing his ally's audacious or foolish declaration; they both knew Ansem was the sage-king of Radiant Garden whose heart was much too fearful of Darkness to actively seek it in the same manner they did, so why would the Seeker proclaim himself as such? The masked prophet answered the old man's musings, "The day you understand these words is the day we become equals. Until then, your faith in me will be enough."

The old man scoffed. "So far, you've given me no cause to doubt your knowledge of the future. It is only what you keep hidden that urges my caution."

A short silence passed. Both conspirators sensed a half-dozen energy signatures approaching the rock face—no doubt they were a scouting party from the liberated internment camp, still searching for a trail to the Seeker's whereabouts. The Seeker didn't care to be there when they arrived and only spoke once more with the metallic echoes of his unearthly voice, "Another prophecy before I go: Continue pushing Ventus to reach his fullest potential as you are and, in one year's time, he'll reach his breaking point and be utterly useless to you as a vessel. Extract his inner Darkness and send his empty shell to train with Eraqus. Three years afterward, he and his inner Darkness will reunite and forge the χ-blade. If you ensure their survival, that mighty weapon will be yours and the galactic rebirth we've sought will become reality."

Xehanort's features tensed. For as favorable as the prediction seemed, he'd caught that important detail about Ventus being useless as his new vessel. His own body was nearing its expiration date, and without a younger one to transfer his heart into, he would have to search elsewhere for a host to maintain his existence—no easy task. The Seeker noted this and continued, "I see your worry. What good is creating a brave new frontier if you won't live to see it? But rest assured. A suitable vessel will present itself to you. With it, you'll live to see your dreams realized in a body that is young and teeming with Darkness. It will be everything you've ever desired, but only if the χ-blade is forged and preserved."

With those final words, dark tendrils crawled up from the ground, slithering over the Seeker's form, and in a final flash of Darkness, he vanished, leaving the old man alone to ponder his words, as he had so often done in the past.

Xehanort sensed the presence of Radiant Garden's soldiers converging behind him on the precipice and allowed a gleeful, malicious smile to creep over his ancient visage.

"You there!" The squad leader barked as he and his inferiors raised their weapons at him, "Who are you?! State your business!"

The old man closed his eyes and chuckled in amusement, hardly paying his attackers any mind. Oh, Seeker, you arrogant fool. I will indeed have a prosperous future, but why should you have a place in it? When all you have is mine, our arrangement will come to an end. But would you do any different? The moment I cease being of use to you, you will surely discard me and take all that we've harvested for yourself. There is no dishonor in this.

The squad leader screamed again, "This is your last warning, old man! If you don't comply, we will open fire! Who are you and what—?!"

With a clenching of his fist, Xehanort formed a deathly grip over the captain's heart, and as the master of Darkness raised his hand, the gagging soldier was levitated into the air to the horror of his subordinates.

The universe needs only one "Seeker of Darkness"…

Reacting on fear, the other soldiers returned their focus to the old man and prepared to open fire, only for Xehanort to suddenly turn to face them and, with a rapid swipe of his arm, summoned the very earth beneath them to reach for the nightly heavens and impale the terrified souls on sporadic pikes and pillars of sharpened stone. The spastic jolting caused by the abrupt method of execution left sheer repulse to allow the soldiers to squeeze the triggers of their guns and briefly fire them in haphazard directions before their blood and screams finally yielded to their deaths.

…and when the time comes for us to poise our knives at each other's backs, I will be the faster and stand triumphant as the once and future Deliverer of Darkness. If my suspicions regarding the source of your knowledge of the future ring true, then you are no prophet at all…

Only the squad leader, still suspended in the air, was left alive. Xehanort had wanted to harvest as much terror from his feeble heart as possible, and when the Dark Master was satisfied, he squeezed his fist completely shut and ended him in a burst of his own lifeblood.

…and you will have no divine aid to warn you of my betrayal.