The world was tired, that night. The songbirds had long since retired to their nests, replaced by insect noises, the hooting of owls, and the rustling wind. The sun, too, had given way to a moon, which shone down from the night sky like a beacon, surprisingly vigorous for a crescent. Rays of mystic light fell upon every surface: the forest, the green-tinted undergrowth, the bubbling brook, streaking in and out of tree cover along the soft brush floor.

Most of the light, however, reflected off the massive fortress among the trees, spiking up into the sky like a mountain. It must have been magnificent at one point: pure white stone, graceful architecture reaching skyward without end, and impossibly sharp angles blending with absurdly smooth rounds.

Now, however, it was little more than rubble, with once-proud spires jutting into the dirt, and fields of whispering glass strewn around the castle's edge. Here and there, miniature rivulets of dark energy swelled into existence and wriggled along the castle's stone, only to be snuffed out almost immediately by the cold caress of the moon.

On one piece of the white mountain, a gaping hole opened up to the environ, positioned far above the trees. It was the largest opening into the castle; only a few smaller holes dotted the blank expanse elsewhere. Within the big hole, almost invisible from an outside view, stood a single, hooded figure. The hole was, in fact, a room: a massive antechamber remaining behind from an era long passed. An era of power and plotting, of light and shadow.

For a time, only nature filled the air, until another figure stepped up from the inky blackness of the indoors. It joined the first shadow with a sense of grave somberness, standing straight and stiff in the moonlight. It was far smaller than the first being, with a lithe and muscular build. It, too, wore a black cloak, though the cowl did little to hide the creature's huge ears.

The two beings stood together in silence for what might have been hours: the moon did not seem to move across the sky as it ought, instead hovering near the horizon, unwavering. The large-eared figure seemed somewhat uncomfortable, shuffling from foot to foot, until finally it could bear the silence no longer.

"Say, pal, are ya sure ya really thought this through?" The diminutive figure's voice was squeaky, high-pitched, yet surely male. "Y'know, the light'll always keep fighting. I just think ya might be jumpin' at illusions."

Silence followed after. The other figure was content to watch that ever-unchanging moon, and made no reply to the small being's comment. For a long time, they stood thus, and only the changing sounds of nature below marked the passing of time. Then the tall figure spoke.

"At what cost, my friend." It was no question. A deeply male voice, simply speaking with years of honed authority. "So much has been lost, for so little gain. Kingdom Hearts, still untamed after so many foolish attempts. The X-Blade, forever lost. And for what? Nothing. So many pure hearts extinguished for nothing." The man laughed, a sort of bitter, barking sound which echoed across the landscape below. "And what of our compatriots? As far as I've encountered, you and I are the only ones who still draw breath. Most were lost to time, or the darkness."

"Not everybody! There's still a few of us travelin' around." The smaller figure looked down at its feet. "We…we tried, pal," it said softly. "And we won, I think. We pushed back the Darkness, like the rest'a the heroes have since before I was born. The worlds are at peace, aren't they?"

"Perhaps, Mickey," chuckled the man. "Perhaps we did. This would be our "happily ever after" then, I suppose. But time has passed. "Happily ever after" is proving to be so…temporary. If any other keepers of light have survived, time has not been kind to them. Although, if you don't mind my saying so, I've never seen you walk quite so slowly."

The smaller figure pushed its hood off, somehow maneuvering the big mouse ears out of the cowl with practiced ease. "I'm not as young as I used ta be, pal. Time doesn't move in the castle, but I've been travelin' the worlds as often as I've been home. I'm just glad my friends an' wife were with me tha whole time." The mouse laughed with a squeak. "At least we're old together!"

The man joined the mouse in mirth. "As full of optimism as ever, Mickey. I suppose I should be thankful: without that…positivity, I expect you would have vanquished me long ago."

"Aw, I wouldn't do that. We're friends, and that's not going to change, no matter what happens!" Mickey smiled up at the still hooded-man, whose posture seemed to soften, even if his face remained concealed. The mouse's cheer faded. "Still, I'm sorry, pal. What's happened to you, it's a real shame. Shouldn't have had ta happen."

"Oh, worry not. This form suits my purposes far better, anyway." The man returned to watching the moon. "I've no fear of time, of age. When I am ready, I will rejoin my heart. I trust that you have hunted it down by now." Again, that decisive tone left no room for a question.

"Yup. It's all taken care of." Mickey smiled, and for the first time the lines in his face revealed the mouse's middle-aged status. "As soon as I heard, we all took care of it together. Your Heartless was a real fighter, but it's waiting for you in the World After."

"Thank you, my friend." The man was as unnaturally still as the white stone surrounding him. "For the longest time, I had no memories of my previous self. Drifting about while the rest of you fought for this world." The bitter laughter from the hood was dry, and pained. "Imagine my dismay when I finally returned to myself, and I realized what I had become."

Mickey put a hand on the man's elbow: it was as high up as he could comfortably reach. "You're all right now, though. Ya have a plan, pal, and ya told me it was going well. I just wanted t'make sure ya knew what you were gettin' yourself into."

"Trust in me, my friend." The man sunk down to his haunches, drawing level with Mickey for the first time. "My plans are proceeding unfettered. I've been…let us say…collecting others. Following the traditions set down by the predecessors as best I am able to. Familiarity makes integrating these newcomers far easier.

"Ya sure it's the best way?" Mickey couldn't hide the doubt from his voice. "We've lost so many good people already. So many of my friends." Very few beings had lived as long as the inhabitants of Disney Castle. "I don't wanna lose any more ta the darkness. I've lost enough ta time."

The man fell into silence again, this time a weighted, calculating silence that broke when he sighed. "No, I am not sure. But it is a way, and I must act eventually. The Heartless are ever restless, and if a Seeker of Darkness arose before, one shall arise again. I cannot allow that to happen. Too much has already been taken from the light, my friend. Taken by time, by darkness, by the greed of hearts and the lust for ultimate power."

Mickey nodded slowly. "Okay, pal, I trust ya," he said. "What can I do to help?"

The man smiled, his mouth just barely visible from eye level. "For now, all I ask is that you return home. Rest. Gather your strength and rally your allies. Someday…someday soon, I will require your aid. The light will need every key it can scrounge for that final confrontation. But until then…" With a flick of his wrist, the man tugged open the fabric of the world, and a portal of darkness grew before them. "Be well, Mickey."

Mickey pulled his hood back up, once again obscuring his features. "I'll see ya soon, pal. Take care." He stepped into the portal. Just as the portal began to close, Mickey whirled around and waved. "G'bye, Maxsen!" he squeaked, as the portal closed.

Alone once more, the hooded figure reached one gloved hand skyward, pointing at the moon. It had finally begun to move across the sky, as if respectfully waiting for the conversation to end.

"Until we meet again, my friend," whispered Maxsen. Then he turned, disappearing into the darkness.