Title of Fic: My Heart's Rebellion
Author: Riraku-san
Summary: A new age of darkness has consumed the worlds, under the rule of a threat even greater then the darkness. Their only hope now is a small rebellion, working together to save their future.
Pairings: Possibly yaoi. XD

Current Chapter: Prologue
Chapter Length: 1,101 words.

Extra notes: I had two pages of notes. I wrote chapter one. Eighteen pages. Eighteen friggin' pages, and then what happens?! THE FRIGGIN POWER GOES OUT! Someone hates me. Alot. I'm left with ONE page of story and half a page of notes. I'm going to try, but the first chapter won't be posted tonight. I need to get over my angsting first. However, I still have inspiration so when I'm done yelling at word, it won't take me long to try and re-write what I lost. (by the way, I'll only be abusing bold for this chapter. XD) Hopefully, the first chapter should be posted tomorrow or the weekend. I've got a lot of plans for this fic - so hold on, here goes..


"Every act of creation is first an act of destruction." Pablo Picasso


Light and darkness.

Darkness and light.

One could not survive without the other and neither would ever triumph over it's opposite. Whether it was now, a hundred years into the past, or even a thousand years into the future that it seemed one was stronger, the balance was always there. If it was obvious or not was up to the events that transpired at the time.

Sometimes, if you didn't understand the fragile relationship between the two polar opposites, you'd think one had vanished. Sometimes, if you didn't put your belief into one or the other, you'd forget either existed. Most people chose the second option, losing their faith after the hardships of recent years, and in doing so had sealed their fate.

It was the way most of the population went, in this time of lost hope and despair…

It'd been three years since the world had been overthrown by the darkness, everything that was light quenched underneath it's oppressing nature. It was always overcast, always dreary. Green foliage withered and died, droughts had taken to the countryside and turned it into a barren wasteland, the whole world had suffered under the wrath of the evil dictator – and through it all the light had seeped out of the world, until there was nothing left.

Radiant Garden had effectively died, leaving only chaos and destruction in it's wake. Though the large, bustling city had recovered from the Heartless and Organisation XIII, there was no returning from the pit it had spiralled into.

In the outer fringes of the town it was the worst. Nobody stopped and talked, nobody lingered out in the cold. Nobody wanted to stay outside any longer then they had to and quickly returned to their modest homes.

This was the place of the slaves, of the labourers, of the lesser men who'd been assigned the most menial of jobs under the new order. It was the worst of the worst, a petty and dirty existence lived by those who had done nothing wrong beyond speaking a word out of line, but had been pushed to the outer rim by a society who rejected them.

The people who didn't accept the new rule, the plebs.

Further in was another section of the town, the only difference here being the houses were slightly bigger, there were markets and shops, the crowds dressed a little more colourfully. The only indication that anything was different was that the atmosphere thickened to a tension of sorts.

Here were those who had eagerly succumb to the new leader's rule, who'd allowed themselves to be crushed under his boots as they struggled to continue on with their life.

They were allowed more freedoms, but in some ways were underneath a tighter leash. Security was lax in the outer borders of the place, the large wall that now surrounded the city keeping most citizens in place, being as heavily guarded as it was. But here, those who weren't guarding the wall frequented the streets often. Figures in black robes that towered over other people.

Not because they were tall, but because of the fear they inspired. They could clear a path just by looking in a certain direction. It was hard not to quail under those red eyes.

Rumours were rife about these men and women. Most people said they weren't even human, but there were those who knew better. They were usually the ones with their lips sewn shut, it was the punishment to speak against the ruler.

Of course, this was only if it was casual slur, a curse made in a drunken stupor - people who spoke out openly against the dictator received something far, far worse.

The inner circle was a mystery. People went in, with gifts seeking favour or with a report on the current state of food in the city… but when they came out there was a different look in their eyes, a glaze, and they refused to talk about anything they had seen.

People may've lived there, for beyond the short wall that separated the districts, spires rose up where the mist faded, the tops of houses. Occasionally smoke would even rise from there when it was really cold, signalling a fireplace or similar. Life at it's best.

Unfortunately it was impossible to tell any more, because even at night the fog would rise and not even lights could pierce it. It was widely accepted that this was magic, but many still wondered about why it was there.

A few thought it was a spell cast to change you as you left, so that you refused to speak of anything inside. More thought it was for privacy, the rich people creating the mist so that common people couldn't peer into their beautiful homes.

The general opinion always remained, though, that it was the evil that radiated from the castle beyond.

The looming black shape towered above the mist, towers almost piercing the sky. It wasn't exactly a castle, but meant to be one, although the shape was more modern and the design made it obviously more luxurious then the stone works of a few hundred years ago.

Turrets and spires rose from the hulking shape, the entire structure casting a shadow over the city in more ways then one, dousing the spirits of any who lived within the walls.

It symbolised the darkness that had overtaken the streets of Radiant Garden. It was the epitome of everything cold and miserable. It was something unavoidable and repugnant. It was the home of the most feared assassins, thugs, spies and soldiers in the world. Worst of all, it was the home of the most feared and most powerful man in existence, nobody dared whisper him name lest his wrath be brought upon them.

The past, the present, and the future were bleak. In three short years, everything the citizens of Hollow Bastion had known had crumbled beneath their feet.

Their world had been destroyed, the darkness overpowering everything that stood in it's way. This was one of the times when the light was something that you had to squint to see, a time when you just had to trust that the balance would be fixed.

Most of the people had, when this war had first started, placed everything they could in this belief. Now hope had dwindled and little remained.

They didn't know that their prayers had been answered.

They didn't know that just in the outskirts of town, the person that would save them all already existed.

That he would be the light, in this age of darkness.