A/N: I've been planning to do this for ages, butttt got the inspiration recently. Or, rather, this is my response to Locke being announced in Dissidia NT and Sabin showing up in Dissidia OO.
Published: 6/13/2018
Warnings: This one is… Pretty bad. You've been warned. Major character death, violence, the works. I kinda feel like I should up the rating, actually
Godfall
Gods. Humans. Espers. Different beings, all the same. Hungry. Hungry for more. Desperate for power, clasping onto it desperately. Clasping onto it, afraid to lose it. Afraid to let it go.
Clasping on so desperately, uncaring of the consequences. Craving more and more, hoarding it avariciously.
Power is what drives people. What drives them to act, what drives them to stride forward and make a shift.
The thing was… Shifts are not always for the better.
"What an adorable little creature!"
Had any person walked into the room, they would have instantly paled, turned tail, and run. Possibly, they would have also screamed in terror a bit. They might have even wet their pants. The horrifying sight before them was enough to cause that, surely.
Kefka cooed, petting the Heartless in his arms. The Shadow preened under the attention, basked in it.
Kefka smiled at the creature, beamed at it.
"My precious little destroyer! You've got what it takes to kill everything, don't you? You won't be a disappointment like that disgusting girl, will you?"
Kefka grinned, teeth and all.
And the Heartless?
The Heartless grinned back, its maw and endless array of razor sharp shadowy teeth designed to tear a man's soul out in seconds.
A small boy, a child really, was dragged bodily towards the research facility. Chains wrapped around him, binding his arms together behind his back, keeping them completely and utterly immobile.
"You have to listen to me! Please! You have to! You don't know what you're doing!"
"Silence!"
One of the soldiers smacked the blunt end of his sword against the child's head. The child cried out, head lolling to the side.
Emperor Gestahl stepped forth, a smirk playing on the old sociopath's lips.
The child glared up, defiant.
"Ventus, my boy… You should not have come here. What did you expect to find in this place?" Gestahl asked the other.
Ventus didn't waver. Instead, his gaze only hardened as he stared down the Emperor.
"The Heartless will destroy you. All of you. They'll consume every last one of you." Ventus warned. The soldiers holding him chortled to themselves in evident disbelief. Ventus ignored them, instead focusing his attention on the Emperor. "The more you drown yourselves in the dark, the more you'll draw them in."
Gestahl, much like his soldiers, laughed.
"Child, the Heartless don't control me. I control them." Gestahl revealed, as if the idea that it being anything else was ludicrous. Ventus sneered at the man. "Now… Onto more pressing matters."
Gestahl lifted a hand, cupping Ventus's face in his grip, fingers digging into the other's cheek.
"This Keyblade you wield… It is my understanding that it can shatter any seal. You will break the seal to the Esper World for me, boy."
Ventus glared before spitting in the other's face.
"Go get bent, you old fossil!"
Gestahl stood, wiping the spit away. Gaze heated, he looked up towards the guards.
"Take him away. I want his room filled with Marlboro gas at all times. We can't take chances with this one. Let's see how long it takes this child to break."
With that, Gestahl spun, departing without a word, never once noticing a certain General gazing on, her face twisted in surprise.
Celes Chere had always known that the Empire had no qualms about what it did to children.
She'd been but a child herself when the experiments had began. She had no idea how old Terra had been, as they had kept them separate to the point where Celes had only recently learned of the other's existence, but Celes knew how it went.
The process had been… Refined with her. Terra Branford's blank eyed stare and Kefka Palazzo's insane cackles told Celes that, quite bluntly, she'd gotten lucky.
Still, this… Even for the Empire, this was low. Even Celes had never been subjected to such cruelty.
A child, bound and chained with the poisonous breath of a Marlboro, trapped and immobile.
From his expression alone, you'd never suspect he was in pain. Celes knew better. Strung up how he was, under the effect of numerous status effects, it was a wonder the boy was even still alive.
"Have you come to beat me too? I already told the others… I'm not opening that gate. I'd rather die."
Celes jumped.
The boy… The boy was speaking to her. How, Celes wasn't sure. He shouldn't be able to see her at all. The Marlboro poison assured that.
Perhaps he'd heard her, but Celes had taken the care to enchant herself to prevent detection.
Despite all that, a blank gaze was being leveled straight at her. Clouded eyes that could not see, blinded by affliction, staring directly into her own
In that moment, Celes made a choice.
Striding forth, producing a remedy from her supply back, she titled the boy's head back so she could pour the liquid down his throat. He let her, expression vindictive and stubborn, no doubt expecting more pain, more agony.
Is this, Celes thought to herself, horrified, What I've been fighting for?
The remedy's effects were instant. The boy's eyes cleared in an instant, surprise overtaking his features as he gazed up at her in awe.
"Who are you?" the boy asked.
"Celes. Celes Chere." Celes introduced herself.
One meeting became two. Two became three, and four, and five. Celes learned so much. About Ventus, about where he was from, about the Heartless.
He learned from her. Learned about the Empire, about the Espers, about the layout of their world.
Finally, at last, Celes came to a decision.
"I'm going to get you out of here. I'm going to get you free. I promise. I promise. Just wait for me, please."
That was the last time she would see Ventus for a very long time.
General Leo Cristophe never did like Kefka. Perhaps if he had met the man before the shift, before he had changed, he'd have a different opinion of him. However, the only Kefka Leo had ever known was the psychotic maniacal sorcerer that the Emperor only barely kept on a leash.
Leo had never met the original Kefka. He had never met the man that braved to be the first of the Empire's Magitek Knights, but he had met the result.
The result was not pretty.
The result was not pretty at all.
Kefka was an utter monstrosity. Whatever professor Cid had done, it had melted the man's mind, turning him utterly psychotic to the point where it was now Leo, and not Kefka, who ran the armed forces.
This, though… This was new, even for Kefka.
"What on earth are those… Things?" Leo stared, bewildered and just a bit terrified.
Beside him, Celes Chere frowned. Leo wasn't sure how he felt about the woman. She, like Kefka, had been born from the Magitek experiments. Experiments that had driven others mad, made then snap and break. She had the same powers as that monster, flowing in her blood.
She didn't seem anywhere near as insane, though. That, as far as Leo was concerned, made her far more dangerous.
Why Gestahl seemed determined to make more freaks was beyond Leo, but regardless, that is what stood before him.
Chere eyes the creatures with distaste.
"He calls them Heartless. I…" the woman looked up. Crystal blue eyes, like ice, stared right at him. Cold and condemning, eyes that could see past any barrier, right into your heart and soul regardless of whatever walls one tried to raise in defense.
Leo had never liked those eyes. Anytime they focused on him, he felt like he'd been out under a microscope. Like they were analyzing his every action, his every move down to a t.
"Stay away from them. Those monsters… I don't know how Kefka controls them, but they have no conscious, no thoughts, no humanity. They exist for the sole purpose of slaughter. Nothing more, nothing less. Stay away, if you know what's good for you."
With that cheerful declaration, General Celes Chere spun and departed, leaving Leo to his thoughts.
Dangerous indeed.
Leo isn't surprised, when only weeks later, he learns that General Celes has defected. He isn't surprised at all, because, really, did they expect to keep the woman's loyalty when they ostracized her for something she had no control of?
He ignored the guilt burning in his chest, ignored it because he had feared her too. Ignored it because, while he'd never actively antagonized the woman, he'd done nothing to stamp it out. Done nothing to stamp out the dissent in the ranks against a woman like her, a sorceress, just like Kefka.
Ignored it because he, like everyone else, had been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for the woman to snap, just like Palazzo. And, it seemed, she had: just not in the way any of them were expecting her to.
An attempted prison break that leaves dozens dead, the ground frozen over, and ends with a snarling Celes captured at last. Gestahl choses to send her away, towards Figaro for her execution.
General Celes Chere will not have the honor of dying on her own land. Like the traitor she is, let her bleed upon the foreign lands she fights for.
It gets worse when she escapes. Well then. Another ally, to the enemies cause.
Locke meets her. The woman in chains, trapped and imprisoned for speaking out against the Empire. He'd heard the stories, of course, of General Celes Chere. Of her strength, her power, her might.
It's just…
He never expected to find her like this, here and now.
He never expected to be fighting alongside someone only months ago he'd have run at the very whisper of.
"You defected. Why?" Locke can't help but ask the moment they can rest. The moment they can pause, the moment they aren't running for their lives against an endless army of soldiers and monsters.
Her former soldiers, that had gone from following her orders to trying to take her head. Locke personally doesn't get it. He doesn't get their hate, their fear, of this woman.
Okay, he gets the fear bit, but the hate? That makes no sense to Locke. No sense at all, because in the few days he's known her, Celes has been nothing short of amazing, and that's the reality.
She looks at him. Really looks at him. Locke has a hard time focusing. It's been a while since he let himself get lost in a woman's gaze, and no is so not the time. Now is so not the time, in the middle of a struggle, of a fight.
Not with Rachel, waiting for him to come back to her one last time.
"I… The Empire has a new weapon. Something twisted beyond belief. I… I couldn't. I just couldn't support a monstrosity such as that tried to stop it, but I failed."
Her words shock him back to the present.
Weapon?
Locke gulps. He doesn't ask. He doesn't have to ask. His look says it all.
"They call them… The Heartless."
Kefka giggled, gazing out at Doma Castle. Initially, he had planned on poisoning the water supply, but this? Oh, this would be far more delicious than that.
Cyan Garamonde barely makes it out alive, tears streaming down his face. Fleetingly, he wonders if this is really living, or if the entire world is naught but a nightmare.
What other explanation can he have for it, when he watched his own wife and child devoured by those monsters, only to turn into them in turn?
Cyan screams and spins, only a single intention in mind.
The Empire… The Empire did this… They set these monsters on them, they caused this slaughter, this carnage.
Cyan will tear them to pieces, and he will have his revenge, if it's the last thing he does.
Heartless, Sabin learns, are particularly weak to his aura attacks. It's good to know. They seem pretty resistant to everything else, but Duncan's training is a godsend against these monsters. Especially when he can use them to save a child from being devoured before his very eyes.
Sabin's fist send the Heartless flying, broken and destroyed. Wisps of darkness cling to the thing as it gives one last screech before finally, at last, dissipating away.
Sabin turns to the kid. Green dirty matted hair, rags clinging to his form, the kid has a wild look in his eyes. Wild, like an animal. Downright feral, with a curl of his lips as he glares at Sabin.
"Hey, kid. What's your name? I'm Sabin." Sabin beams at the kid, extending a hand.
The kid, still lying prone on the ground, covered in bruises and cuts eyes the hand wearily for several moments. His eyes dart back up, looking right at him.
The kid seems to consider before, finally, taking Sabin's hand and letting him haul the other to his feet.
"... Gau. I am Gau."
Sabin smiles.
"Nice to meet yah, Gau."
When they all finally reunite, things nearly end up turning bloody as Cyan takes one look at Celes, thinks for several moments, and then tries the skewer the hell out of the woman.
Lovely, really.
In the end, though, they all manage to unite. All of them, together as one to protect the Esper, to protect Narshe.
Then Terra takes one look at the thing, grows fur, and grows the ability to fly and things somehow, impossibly, get just a bit more complicated.
The explanation of Terra's nature is… Its shocking, really.
"She's… Half Esper?" Locke repeats to himself a few times, trying to get the idea to sink in properly.
It's a heavy one at that.
Terra isn't entirely human. She doesn't just resonate with Espers, she is one, in part. Her magic wasn't given to her by the Empire and forcibly extracted from Espers, like the rest of the Magitek Knights.
No.
Terra's power was her own. It was unique and it was hers.
Edgar took a step forward.
"Lord Ramuh, I understand that in order to save Terra we must venture into the depths of the Empire to rescue your kin," Edgar began. Locke was sensing a 'but' coming up. "I have no problem with this. However,"
Ah, there it was.
"There is one more thing that concerns me."
Ramuh nodded, his face the picture of a serene old man waiting for them to continue.
"These… Heartless. What do you know of them?" Edgar finally asked.
Ramuh blanched. Watching an Esper, an ethereal being of wonder and myth staggering back, his skin paling faster than the sands of Figaro, was utterly terrifying.
Ramuh took a step back, looking very much sick.
"The Empire… They have summoned those atrocities back into the world?" Ramuh shook his head, looking utterly horrified. That was not a good sign. At all. "The Heartless… They are creatures of the Dark, of the Realm beyond. They will not rest until everything, everywhere dies. They will consume entire worlds, for their hunger is so ravenous it knows no bounds. They strike, converting others as they are, ripping out souls and reaping hearts of man and beast alike. An infinite army, that grows with every life they consume. They cannot be felled, only stalled."
"Er… I've felled a few of them!" Sabin announced, raising his arm in the air as he said so.
Ramuh, however, shook his head once more.
"You did not. They can be beaten in combat, but it is a useless endeavor. They shall reform, reborn into the world. All you've succeeded in doing is scattering them." Ramuh revealed.
Locke hissed.
"Then how do we stop them? Clearly, the Empire didn't know what they were doing if they released these monsters!" Locke asked.
Beside him, Celes had grown paler and paler with the words. Apparently, while she'd known the Heartless were bad news, she hadn't known the extent.
"Lord Ramuh," Celes began. The Esper turned towards her. Celes hesitated, only for a moment, before forging on.
All of nothing.
"I learned of the Heartless from a boy the Empire captured. A child who had arrived in shower of stars, warning of the oncoming storm. He had a strange weapon, and said it alone had the power to truly purge the Heartless." Celes revealed.
Silence echoed in Celes' wake. Then…
"What! Thou knew we could not slay these creatures, yet thou said nothing? I told you all, we can not trust her!" Cyan shouted.
Locke, as usual, came to Celes' defense. Standing tall, Locke glared down at the samurai.
"Hey! I'm sure there's a reason she didn't say anything, alright! Ease up!" Locke snapped.
"The point remains, however." Edgar interjected, eyes not looking away from Celes. "Why did you hide this from us?"
Celes stood her ground. She would not be weak. She refused to be weak.
"I… I tried to save him. His weapon, it's an ancient power, that the Empire covers as much as they do the magic of the Espers," Celes began.
"The Keyblade. A most dreadful weapon." Ramuh interrupted. Celes turned towards him.
"The Keyblade-" Celes began.
"From it, the first Heartless were forged. A weapon, capable of searing souls from their hosts."
Celes flinched back, her face finally breaking apart into shock. Then, her expression hardened. Standing her ground, the former Imperial General glared at the Esper.
"Ventus isn't like that! He's- he's just a child, for god's sake! A little boy!"
Ramuh, surprisingly, nodded to this. "Of that, I have no doubt. The Keyblade… Like any tool, it is subject to the will of the Wielder. The Heartless may have been born from its strike, but at the same time only a bearer of the Keyblade can truly purge the Heartless, purify them."
"So… What you're saying then is… That boy. He's our only hope. He's the only one who can stop these Heartless, for good?" Sabin asked.
Ramuh nodded.
"Only a bearer of the Keyblade can slay the Heartless. It seems the Empire holds not one, but two keys that we need for our victory: a cure for young Terra, to help her awaken from her sleep, and the key to ending the Heartless, once and for all."
Ramuh turned towards Terra, his wrinkled hand reaching out, parting away her hair. "We Espers… We sealed the Heartless away once before. We could not end them, but we could halt them. Seek out the Espers. Seek them out, and find one that knows the truth, the secret. For, if these monsters are not sealed once more… The Empire shall be the least of our worries."
Ventus can see. Ventus can see again and the chains are gone and the screeching cry of a Marlboro reaches his ears. Hands grip his shoulders, familiar hands, and Ventus looks up.
Celes. Celes is here. She's back. She's finally back. Ventus chokes back a sob. He didn't think he'd see her again. It had been so long. So long that he had started to give up hope.
But, here she was.
She'd come back. She'd come back for him, just like she promised. Ventus wanted to cry from relief. She was here, she was here, she was here.
He wasn't alone anymore. He-
Arms wrapped around him as the woman pulled Ventus in for a hug.
For a moment, Ventus stood there, shocked. Over the weeks that he'd gotten to know Celes, she'd never been… Clingy. She avoided physical contact like the plague, really. So, this was a surprise.
A surprise that he welcomed. Ventus wrapped his own arms around her, burying his head in the crook of her neck, not bothering to hold back his tears.
"I'm so, so sorry Ventus. I'm sorry it took me so long to come back to you. I'm sorry, but I'm here. I'm here, and it's okay. We're getting you out of here." she mutters into his ear.
Ventus pulls back, confusion splashed across his face.
"We?"
"Hey!"
Ventus turned. Two more blondes, twins from the look of them, stood atop the ruined remains of the rapidly fading Marlboro.
One was dressed in what Ventus could only describe as royal attire, a crossbow rested upon his shoulder.
The other wore white sagging pants held up by a sash, a sleeveless purple muscle shirt that left little to the imagination, and was built like a tank.
Said tank was currently waving, a wide smile splayed across his lips.
"So, you're the infamous Ventus." a fourth voice greets. Ventus turns to it. A skinny brunette is making his way towards him, wearing a dark blue sleeveless jacket atop a white shirt. His hair was parted, held back by a bandana.
Ventus resisted the urge to flinch back.
Silver… Hair. Yeah. No. The eyes looked pretty normal, though, so Ventus waived off said hair. The man smiled, extending a hand.
"Locke Cole. We're here to rescue you."
No matter what anyone says, Celes Chere is not a traitor and Locke will do more than break Cyan's nose the next time he insinuates it, damning evidence in the form of cackling evil clowns aside.
Besides, one just has to look at the distraught expression on Ventus' face to realize the truth. Celes isn't a traitor, and damn it, she's…
She's probably already dead, Locke realizes. Dead and gone, because she'd escaped execution once, and he can't imagine the Empire would make the same mistake twice.
Setzer pointedly looks away. He himself has his doubts that their singing opera star is a villainess, but he will keep such things to himself, as he can fully admit he hasn't been here long enough to decide that, one way or another.
Terra's eyes snap open.
"Fa… Father?"
"I guess there's only one way to say it, really. I'm out of this world. Literally."
Of all the explanations Terra had expected from their newest companion, this was not it.
Edgar blinks.
"Come again?" the King of Figaro asks.
"I'm out of this world." Ventus reiterates. "As in, an alien. Well, am I technically an alien?" Ventus tilts his own head in question before shrugging. "I mean, I'm as human as you, I'm just not from this world. I'm from another world, if you get what I mean."
"Like from the Esper World?" Terra asks, because that's the closest she has to associate with it, really.
Ventus looks at her, contemplating the question before at last shaking his head.
"No… No, not like that. The Esper World is like another dimension, tied to this world. I come from up there," Ventus pointed a finger directly up. "I come from the stars. I was literally born under a different sun." Ventus explained.
"Then… Why are you here?" Locke asks
Ventus turned to him.
"I'm here to stop the Heartless. That's my job. That's why the Keyblade chose me." Ventus lifted his arm and, in a flash of brilliant light, it appeared.
The fabled Keyblade, the only weapon in the universe capable of truly ending the Heartless.
"But, you are but a mere child! Why would thou be sent alone?" Cyan's question seemed odd to Terra, but she supposed it would.
She hadn't had a childhood. Kefka had forced her to kill and slaughter for him for as long as she could remember, so the concept of child soldier was not lost on Tina Branford.
Ventus looked pained at the question.
"No one sent me. There was no one to send me. I… I'm the last one. The other Keybladers… They're all gone."
Terra's breath hitched at that. Her's wasn't the only one.
Ventus looked so pained. At the same time, he looked determined. Determined and willing to go on, despite it all.
"I'm the last one, so it's my job. My job, to finish what they started. To end the Heartless, once and for all."
"You want us to what?"
Ventus doesn't bother hiding his shock at the plan. This has got to be the most asinine thing he's ever heard. Banon doesn't seem to get the memo, though. Instead, the man nods to himself, smug at his planning.
"But of course. The only way to win this war… Is with the help of the Espers." Banon revealed.
Ventus twitched.
"I'm sorry, but that… Are you out of your mind? Do you seriously want to trigger a second War of the Magi?"
Banon frowns at Ventus. Apparently, the man isn't used to anyone seriously questioning his tactics.
Edgar turns, frowning at Ventus. Oh great, here we go.
"Ventus, I understand if you don't wish to participate in this operation. However, Banon is right. Without the help of the Espers, all hope is lost."
So, against Ventus' wishes, they went through said operation anyways. At the end of it, Ventus at the very least had the decency of not turning around, sneering, and saying 'I told you so'.
The Espers don't really have an interest in helping. No, they're far more interested in reaping vengeance on the humans that took their loved ones from them, tearing through Vector with a wild ferocity that Cyan cannot help but admire.
It's wrong, he knows. These people are not the Empire. If anything, they are the victims that live under fear, under their rule of thumb. He knows this, with all his heart, but that doesn't stop him from understanding.
The Empire took everything from him without a single ounce of mercy. It's therapeutic, watching the same happen to them. That, or Cyan really has become twisted.
They're reunited, again. All of them.
"Celes! You're… Thank the spirits!"
Celes is not a woman used to hugs. Or physical affection in general, really. She hadn't gotten much of it growing up. The only one who had ever shown her any care, really, was Cid.
That care hadn't stopped the man from running various twisted experiments in order to further the Magitek project, so it honestly wasn't the healthiest of relationships. It certainly wasn't one that involved hugs.
Her actions that day they had rescued Ventus had been spontaneous. Celes had seen him and acted accordingly. That time, she'd been prepared for it. Prepared, because she had initiated it.
She hadn't initiated this.
Locke was clinging to her, practically sobbing and muttering words, again and again about how happy he was and how she was alive and how he was so grateful she was here.
Soon, however, it got… Well, it got worse, if you can possibly imagine.
"Celes! Celes is back! Gau miss Celes!"
A human cannonball of mangled green hair slams into the pair of them, sending them sprawling on the ground.
Shadow doesn't bother to hide a snicker.
Terra tilts her head in wonder.
Is… Is this love?
Terra wondered if this feeling inside her was hatred. If that was what the fire she felt burning in her was. It certainly felt like it.
Yes, she realized. This… This was it. This was hatred. She was surprised she hadn't felt it sooner. Surprised, but, for a moment, she pondered if it had always been there. Always there, from the very start.
Terra had always hated Kefka. Always, since the start. Maybe that was why she hadn't noticed until now. Until now, her hatred of that man had always felt as natural as breathing. So natural it was practically second nature.
Now, she noticed. Now, she felt it in full swing. Now, she realized just exactly what was in her heart, what she truly felt, as the world burned around them and Leo's corpse, covered in so much blood and gashes that he was utterly unrecognizable, began to cool.
This feeling… This was hatred.
Terra would kill Kefka, if it was the last thing she did.
For a moment… For a single moment, her eyes glowed a malevolent gold.
Ventus has a bad feeling about this. He has a very, very bad feeling.
The bad feeling is proven true when his Keyblade materializes all on it's own as they lay beaten before the Warring Triad.
They hadn't been ready. They hadn't been prepared. Nothing could have prepared them, and they'd lost. They'd lost, but that wasn't the worst of it.
No. That wasn't the worst of it at all, because, in that moment, Ventus realized what this was.
There was only one reason, and one reason only, that a Keyblade would appear without its master consciously calling on it.
Ventus gazed up at the Triad.
At the Heart of this World.
Ventus shivered.
This… This was it. What the Heartless seeked, relentlessly. The Heart of this World wasn't a place, as it many times is, but was instead three frozen statues, locked on a floating continent miles above the ground.
Statues whose power was currently being absorbed by the worst person possible.
"Oh ho? What's this thing, then!"
The worst being possible, lifting Ventus' Keyblade in hand.
Kefka smirked to himself, victorious. Victorious in every sense of the word. Gestahl was nothing more than a broken corpse, falling even now. His enemies lay before him, battered and beaten.
They had been the hope of this world… And they had lost.
Kefka spun, striding towards the Triad, Keyblade held firmly in his grip.
"N- no-..." Ventus muttered, reaching out.
The Keyblade ignored him. Ignored his call, ignored it's master. Ignored him, because, at that moment, Ventus was too weak. Too weak to call it to him. Too weak to summon it. Too weak against the onslaught of darkness that literally poured from Kefka in waves.
Kefka stood before the Triad. Then, with a giggle, he lifted the blade, and brought it down.
The entire world shook, a loud screeching sound blasting through the area. Ventus wasn't alone in desperately moving to cover his own ears as the sound blasted through the area.
Kefka wasn't perturbed. Instead, he stabbed again, twice more against the other statues.
Their power shattered apart, shiting, twisting itself. Twisting itself into the being that stood in the center of it all, into Kefka himself as a mad cackle escaped his lips.
"Yes! This is it! This power! More! I have to have more! I have to destroy more! Destroy, destroy, destroy! I WILL DESTROY IT ALL! Gods of Magic, you were made to fight, made for violence, made for destruction! Your power… Your power, is now my power! DESTROY! DESTROY! DESTROY!"
Kefka's twisted laugh echoed through the area.
Then, without warning, Ventus felt the power of healing magic thrumming through the area, the faint green glow illuminating not just him, but the others.
Kefka noticed. Spinning around, he snarled at the newcomer.
Shadow panted, gaze never once moving away from Kefka.
"Baram! Stop this!
Baram? Who was Baram?
Kefka, however, seemed to recognize the name. The clown's face lost is mad mirth, if only for a moment, instead replaced by shock.
Shock that quickly melted into anger. So much anger and rage that the very ground around the new god's feet began to bubble and boil.
"Only one person… Would know that name… Clyde." Kefka snarls.
Then, Shadow actually pulls back his cowl. If the situation wasn't so serious, Ventus would have tilted his head to get a better look.
"Baram… What did they do to you?" Shadow took a hesitant step, hand seemingly lifting of its own volition. Lifting, and reaching out.
Kefka eyed the appendage with unholy rage.
"What do you think, Clyde? They used me. Used me, to test their experiments, to test how they'd work, how they'd work on a human!"
Then, Kefka broke into a mad laugh, tossing his head back in utter hysterics.
"Oh gods, I don't even know why I'm so angry! That- it was the best! The best thing that ever happened to me! The things I saw, the power- the power they gave me! Power! More and more power! Power to bring it all to an end!" Kefka giggled to himself, sighing at his own words.
Yeah, no.
Ventus shot up, hand reaching out.
The Keyblade… Did not obey. Ventus froze. Kefka turned to him, smirking.
"Oh, surprised? You do know how a Keyblade works, right? It goes… To the one with the strongest Heart. And, I've got the heart of a world, hehe! I am the world! I am all! And I… I want more. More power. More strength! That darkness… That darkness, I want it! I want it all!"
Then, Kefka Palazzo did the unthinkable.
With another maniacal giggle, the Mad Clown turned the Keyblade on himself, and stabbed.
This world… Was stubborn.
It's heart may have been shattered, falling to darkness, but this world? This world, twisted and broken, it lived on. It lived on, even as a dancing mad clown, fully surrendered to the darkness, ran about, destroying more and more and more.
It lived, but it was dying. Maybe this was worse. Worse, because this slow choked death was one full of anguish and pain.
Anguish, but a drop hidden in the mix. Just a single drop of hope. Hope, scattered to the winds as Kefka blasts them all over the planet.
Sabin screams.
It's all he can do, really, when Gau gets converted right in front of him.
What's left is a snarling child covered in shadows, glaring straight at him with glowing golden eyes. Sabin takes a step back.
Beside him, Edgar produces a chainsaw from gods knows where his brother keeps them.
Gau- or what's left of him- snarls before leaping straight at them. Edgar swings even as Sabin himself stares blankly ahead, not feeling anything at all. Nothing, but the numb shock coursing through him.
Edgar misses.
It doesn't matter, however, as Gau begins to tear through the Heartless around them like taffy. As one, the brother's Figaro watch in shock as Gau dismantles them with claws of darkness.
Then, Gau turns to them and, before they can stop him, leaps.
Edgar isn't quick enough. Sabin is still in shock.
Which is exactly how he finds himself pinned to the ground with a goddamn Heartless of a child he'd once known nuzzling him like a freaking cat.
By the time they find Strago, there isn't anything left of him.
Unlike Gau, who seemed to take his Heartless transformations the same way he dealt with using his own Rages, Strago's mind twists and breaks under the strain.
Terra twists Relm away from the sight even as he's put down, one last time. At this point, that is the only mercy they can give him.
This is it.
This is the end.
Locke bites out a bitter laugh.
"Sorry, Celes. I promised I'd keep you safe, but… Hell, I've never been good with promises, have I?"
They've barricaded themselves in. Outside, they can hear the sound of the Heartless, beating relentlessly. The only thing preventing them from just phasing in is Celes' barrier magic, keeping them at bay.
For however much longer that will last.
Locke turns to look at Celes.
They lay, sprawled there in a cave, alone and weak and dying. Celes has a deep slash in her side, except it isn't bleeding. No, instead, darkness seems to cling to it. Twisted shadows, seeping from the wound that is resistant to every healing magic they've tried.
The rest of her doesn't look much better, from the blood matting her hair to the broken leg, shattered beyond repair.
Locke doubts he looks much better. He sure as hell doesn't feel it.
Celes looks up.
"Locke," she mutters weakly, and it's wrong. It's wrong because Celes isn't weak. Celes is strong. The strongest person Locke has ever met. It's wrong and it hurts and goddamn it all, its wrong. "Leave me," Celes demands.
Locke knew it was coming. He knew, because underneath that icy exterior, Celes Chere had a caring heart. A heart that loved with all it's force, a heart the Empire had tried to break and mold into a perfect weapon. A heart they had scared.
A heart Locke had fallen in love with.
"No," Locke shakes his head. Celes glares at him. "I'm not leaving you. Not again. Never again. I love you, Celes. I love you. I love you, I-"
She silences him, pulling him in for one last kiss. Their first kiss. Their only kiss.
The banging gets stronger.
They would be through soon. The Heartless would be here, and that would be the end of them. Their hearts, devoured. Their minds, twisted. Their souls, gone.
Celes pulls back.
"Locke… Don't… Please. I don't want to be one of those things. Please… Please."
He knows what she's asking. He knows what she wants. He hates it. Hates it with all his heart. Hates it with a burning endless passion.
Hates it, because it's the only way.
By the time the Heartless shatter the barrier, all that's left is a man and a woman, curled up against one another, smiles splayed across their faces. Their blood mingles around them, the last vestige of life already having left them.
The Mysterious Sir.
That is what Kefka had turned himself into.
A massive Heartless, a fallen angel of decay and death and doom.
There aren't that many of them. Just a handful of survivors, moving forth.
Moving forth, towards this final battle.
Ventus' Keyblade returns to him in the final battle, almost mockingly. Mockingly, because if only he could have used it from the start, maybe things wouldn't have turned out so badly. Maybe things wouldn't have gone to complete and utter hell. Maybe they could have saved more. Maybe they could have lost less lives.
It returns to him, as the Mysterious Sir is slain, Terra's rage truly a sight to behold. The Esper blood in her makes her strong, stronger than anyone Ventus has ever had the grace of seeing, and she uses it.
She uses it, and bring it to an end.
She uses it, and brings the world to an end.
Setzer Gabbiani isn't sure how he ends up in Twilight Town, with his mind in a haze and his memories fleeting. All he knows is that it's over, its finally over.
What it is is something he struggles to remember. Struggles, and doesn't quite get there.
Terra Branford awakens on the shores of Destiny Island, her mind a haze, as if the Slave Crown had just been removed from her head.
With nothing better she do, she rises from the sand… And moves.
Ventus falls, through time and space.
Xehanort eyes the child in wonder with a tilt of his head.
And, deep within the Realm of Darkness, in it's darkest bowls, where not even the scantest glimmer of light can shine… A golden eye opened as the Mysterious Sir lifted it's head and let out a hollow screech.