Summary: Xemnas, in a mad act of desire, has chosen thirteen new targets to turn into heartless. It's his belief that their hearts will finally complete Kingdom Hearts.
Characters: Olympian Gods and Organization XIII.
Universe: Game
Warnings: Mild violence and mild language.
Dedication: I dedicate this story to Apollo, for without him there would be no literature, and I would have no writing skills.
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, nor do I own Percy Jackson.
Note: I've looked over chapters one through ten, and done my best to make them better. As of August 9th, 2012, this story has reached its one year anniversary. I'll try to update more regularly, but in reality I lack motivation to do so. As such, if you like this story, and want to read more, please review or, more preferably, add this story to your Story Alerts. That you for your time.
Falling Skys
A man, tall and radiating power, stood on the ground, looking up. His eyes were locked on the top of the Empire State Building, where a massive thundercloud had begun to form.
The man, dressed in a trench coat, pushed a lock of grayed silver hair out of his line of sight. A small smile, not visible to any of the pedestrians who were about, graced his lips. Everything was going according to his plan.
The man turned on his heels and walked away; he needed to find a secluded place, an alleyway or an abandoned building. There was no place in the immediate area that would suit the man's purpose, but that didn't matter. The man could afford to wait.
It took him almost an hour to find an expectable spot. Once he did, Xemnas called forth the shadows, willing them to surround him. They clung to him, the way children cling to a loved parent. Xemnas faded into the darkness, and was gone, no longer in the great city of New York.
It was an instantaneous transport; one of the many perks that went with being the Superior was the ability to circumvent the Dark Corridors completely. So, with utterly no effort at all, Xemnas was standing in the Gray Area, surrounded by his twelve servants.
"How did it go?" A soft, monotonous voice asked. "Is your plane still valid?"
"Yes." A simple answer, something that reviled nothing significant, yet still reviled more than was previously known.
"So, what do we do now?" The question was asked by the only girl who was present.
"They're aware something is happening. A storm is massing." Xemnas stated.
"Then we need to act now!" This voice, more supercilious then any of the others could ever achieve, belonged to a blond man dressed completely in white.
"No, Vexen." This was Zexion, a small boy with silverish blue hair. "We mustn't act before we've finished preparing."
"Then what are we going to do?" Vexen asked.
"We'll obviously let this storm gather. Once He has exhausted himself, we'll make our move." Zexion, a master of tactics despite his age, had already formed a plan.
"That would be the best plan of action." Saïx said, his blue hair caught in a pail stream of moonlight. "If He were to tire, then the others would undoubtedly be left weakened as well, making our objective much simpler."
"Am I the only one who's noticed the major problem you all seem to be overlooking?" Larxene, the girl, asked.
"What problem would that be?" Xemnas asked, his cold eyes looking at Larxene.
"That stupid little camp. The one Xigbar found during his reconnaissance."
"She's right." Zexion said, clearly feinting surprise. "The camp was able to prevent the last attempt to overthrow Him."
"The last attempt to overthrow Him was undertaken by an inferior force." Was Saïx's input.
"We're going to use the Dusks, Gamblers, and Dancers to keep the camp occupied. The Berserkers will be held in reserve, and used to finish any survivors." Xemnas said. "The twelve of you will destroy the twelve members of His family, while I deal with Him. Now, get some rest, all of you. We shall attack at noon tomorrow."