Only one who devotes himself to a cause

with his whole strength and soul

can be a true master.

For this reason,

mastery demands all of a person.

–Albert Einstein

The Keyblade Graveyard. A deserted wasteland left with only the remnants of fallen warriors. Warriors that fought for light and dark. A war that ended with dawn and dusk, a stalemate between good and bad, neither getting the upper hand. Which is precisely why The Outcast chose this place to settle the deal…

From the cool night sky above the dusty battleground, eight pillars of light connected to the ground in a semicircle. Out of each pillar, a figure stepped out and the pillars vanished. Together, they were an odd-looking group; no two people looking very similar. A ninth pillar erupted in front of the strange characters and from it stepped out a tall, thin man in a trench coat. No facial features could be distinguished from the shadow cast by the matching fedora. The Outcast.

"It's nice to finally meet all of you in one place," the Outcast began in a vaguely mechanized voice. "First, I'd like to check and make sure that we are all here." He walked to the man on the farthest left.

The first man was beginning to develop grey and white hair, had a strong build and was dressed in a green general uniform. "The Commander."

The next person was a large stout man with a gruff face. But the most noticeable feature was his robotic eye, arm and leg, continually producing a small whirring. "The Cyborg."

Next up was an old man, standing straight and attentive, dressed just as an average servant would with wisps of white hair and hollow cheeks. "The Butler."

The Outcast continued to a nervous-looking man in a white lab coat and spectacles. "The Scientist."

The next man definitely stood out the most, for he wasn't a man at all. He had a bald head and red eyes, but his skin was a cloudy blue and only a loin cloth was wrapped around his waist. The air seemed to grow cold around him. "The God."

The sixth member had a vicious glare in his eye. A large scraggly black beard hung from his face and he dressed in pirate garb with a captain's hat perched on his head. "The Buccaneer."

The next in line was a young man with only a coat, pants, and boots of animal hide and a crude, but deadly spear. "The Hunter."

Finally, the last man of the group was a bald man in his sixties with a short gray beard. This man's most interesting feature was his clean business suit; not even a single wrinkle. "The Manipulator."

The Outcast returned to his original position. "True, there are supposed to be nine of you, but unfortunately, our last member won't be able to join us today. My minions are still working on…acquiring him."

Finally, one of the members spoke up. "Minions?" the Cyborg questioned. "What minions?" The Outcast lifted his palm out and on cue, three hideous beasts jumped out the shadows from the ground. Only a silhouette could be seen though, for they had a shroud of darkness specifically around them.

"These minions. Now, I bet you're wondering why you're-"

"Alright you landlubber!" the Buccaneer interrupted. "Out with it! Why did ya bring us here?" The Outcast sighed and continued.

"I require something from each of your worlds, something of power." He flung his hand again and eight sheets of paper hung in front of each villain. They each snatched it from the air and looked it over.

"So you want us to retrieve it for you?" the God guessed.

"If you can get it for me, then yes," the Outcast responded.

"And if we can't?" the Butler asked.

"I have a very good feeling that there will be certain people that don't want me to acquire these. For that reason, the least I ask of you is to stall them until I can get it myself."

A few murmured in agreement. "And what makes you think we'll help you? How do we know we can trust you?" the Scientist said accusingly. The Outcast grinned, although no one could tell.

"Because I'm not someone that will force you to do it for your life," he answered, making the beasts vanish with a snap of his fingers. "See, I've already looked into each of your hearts, and I have what you all desire." A spiral of smoke flew up from the center of the makeshift circle. When it parted, a large crystal ball stood on a fitting, ornate pedestal. The inside of the ball became cloudy and each person looking into the ball saw exactly what their hearts' desired. For one, it was treasure. For another, it was power. And for yet another, it was his deceased brothers. "Retrieve your respective items and each of your hearts' wishes shall be granted."

"But," the Hunter began, "how are we to complete our task?"

The Outcast sighed. "I guess one cannot delay the inevitable." He flung both palms out towards the group. Each person glowed a light blue haze and felt strengthened. "I've now given each of you the ability to control my creatures and an additional power you each will have to discover yourselves."

"And what if we fail?" the Manipulator wondered.

"If you fail, you won't be failing me, for I can simply get my monsters to do it instead, but I'd prefer not to lose too many of them. If you fail, you'll be failing yourselves," the Outcast answered matter-of-factly. To prove his point, the Outcast made a fist and flung it in the direction of the crystal ball. It exploded into several million bits of glass.

"Then I believe we'll all get right on it, sir," the Butler exclaimed.

"Not so fast," the Outcast halted with an outstretched palm. The remaining pedestal of the crystal ball melted and reformed into a round wooden table. "Have a seat, gentlemen. No need to rush things." Seeing the confused looks from his gang, he explained. "We still have time. Why don't we, say, study our opponents."

"Opponents?" the Scientist repeated.

"You see, gentlemen, this is all simply a large game…" A large diagram spread itself across the whole table. The game board was divided into several smaller squares like a chess board with twelve worlds mapped out across it: one on the far left, one on the far right, nine in a circle between them, and the last one in the center of the circle. Eight small wood-carved figures appeared from the Outcast's hand, each resembling one of the members, and placed them on the far right world. "…and so far, I have the star players. And these…" Four more figures materialized in his palm. Two resembled teenage boys, another looked like a teenage girl, and the last one almost seemed to look like a humanoid mouse. They were placed on the far left world. "…are our opponents." The Outcast glared at the mouse-looking one with a burning stare. "And now, we wait for the opponents to make the first move," he calmly explained as he leaned back in his tall chair.

"You're giving our enemies the first move?" the Cyborg exclaimed. "What kind of foolishness is that?"

"Of course. That way we can study our opponents movements, use it to our advantage, and when the time is right…" The Outcast stared at the world marked in the dead center. "…we call checkmate."


So, that sets the stage for the entire story. Anyways, better chapters have yet to come. Hopefully, once I get into the actual world-traveling, it will become more exciting. So, please don't give up on me yet.

~Aros13