All hearts have to go somewhere. Don't they?

When the body dies, and the mind is scattered, what happens to the heart? All that passion, the raw emotion in a person's life, does it simply vanish into the ether? Does it linger in the air until it get drawn into the body of a new-born child, ready to start anew? Or does it return from whence it came, giving back to the cosmos at large?

Right now, at the end of the world, Paladin wished he could find out. Just to know that he could stomp out whatever served as the heart and soul of the scum once known as Bob Page.

Page... the coward.

He could see the bastard's black helicopter riding away from the complex, as he looked up from the windshield of his red Firebird. He wanted so badly for this all to end, for that chopper to combust here and now. Sending Page's pathetic corpse plummeting to the earth in flames.

Would serve that son of a bitch right.

Adam, in the passenger seat, was leaning out the window as he readied a rocket-propelled grenade launcher. He was eying the helicopter with squinted eyes, his retractable lenses pulled back to reveal the gold shine of his artificial irises. Adam's face was focused, a mixture of stoicism and thoughtfulness that gave the impression he was a consummate professional.

Hence why we're friends, Paladin reminded himself. He took care to keep his foot firmly on the accelerator, speeding along the highway with reckless abandon. A distant rumble and that blue wave of energy he'd spotted in the rear view mirror had done little to convince him to do otherwise.

"Almost have him," Adam finally spoke, his voice ever-so-slightly gravelly. "Can you keep this pace for a couple more seconds?"

"Just so long as we send him to hell," Paladin responded. He felt his heart rate accelerate with the car, his mind racing with the thought. Finally, Bob Page would pay. Finally Page would die.

The chopper continued on its trajectory, hanging well above the car. It had no visible armaments, which struck Paladin as bizarre. Yes, it was a short notice escape on account of Helios' heel-face turn... but why would Majestic 12 invest in something so defenseless?

It's not worth it. Just get this done.

"Alright. Got him in my sights. Get ready for the first shot." Adam had the launcher raised alongside the right side of the car, his finger set on the trigger.

Paladin clutched the wheel. It was now or never.

A loud whoosh accompanied by a puff of smoke emerged from the launcher as a small canister shot at the helicopter. Then a bright orange flash, followed by the chopper beginning to weave above them. Its tail was billowing a cloud of black smoke.

"Hit it again, Adam. We can't give him time to use the device."

"I know, Paladin, just a second." Adam pulled back the launcher's barrel and aimed again.

For a split second, he swore a spark of blue came into his overhead vision. He was preoccupied with keeping the car on track and maintaining optimal speed, but... no, it had to be now.

"Adam..." he warned.

"Firing." With another puff of smoke, the second grenade flew from above and slammed into the helicopter's rotors. This time the explosion stunned him for a moment, shaking him and filling his vision with orange light. The helicopter was spinning out of control, flames emerging from every space.

And it was plummeting straight for them.

"Fuck!" Paladin pulled the wheel to the right in order to swerve, but it was too late. The cockpit smashed into his side, and for a moment his vision was red. Then... windows smashing, the sensation of rolling, a muted sense of pain and agony from all sides.

Then silence.


His eyes blinked in pain, making his teeth grit from the sensation. Although all was blurry, he could make out the leather dashboard of his Firebird. He reached out with what strength he could muster, but his arm went limp and fell to the... ceiling?

His vision focused. Paladin tried to glance around, spotting Adam's head hanging upwards with a bloody gash along its side. And the road appeared upside-down, from what he could glean. That, or the car had flipped.

Suddenly he heard the door pulled open and cold metallic hands ripped him from the vehicle. He braced with his hands as he hit the ground hard, splattering blood from his palms onto the road. He grimaced and attempted to push himself up, but a heavy boot slammed into his rips with a crack before he could get far.

"AHHHH!" Paladin collapsed back onto the road. This wasn't how things were meant to go.

"Feeling...feeling good right now, Johnny boy?" a cracking, sterile, familiar voice spoke. He heard the crunch of loose gravel as someone stepped, or rather limped, within his sight. With what strength he could muster, Paladin lifted his weight onto his unbroken ribs and stared into the cold mechanized eyes of Bob Page.

"Heh, heh," Paladin spat back. "Never felt better, you mechanized fuck."

"Oh, do I sense a bit of cyborg envy in you, dear Paladin?" Page responded, standing with the confidence of a less injured corporate conspirator. "Perhaps you want what we have attained through sheer will and ingenuity after all. I mean, all those heroics, all that slaughter..."

"I don't give a shit about your augs and I don't give a shit about power. I'll take you to hell myself if I have to..." Paladin stopped to cough. Blood rushed out his mouth and splattered on the scarred pavement.

Page chuckled, the nerve of him. "I see there's nothing to change your mind. Very well, there's really only enough room for myself in the City on the Hill." He glanced around slightly, as though confused by an intangible matter.

Paladin spoke through a coughing fit, "Lost your... your nerve, tin can?"

The red stains across Page's torso only just outmatched the flush of his face. Silently, he continued glancing about until his eyes caught on something in the distance, just beyond the flaming wreck that was once his helicopter. He turned away for the briefest of moments, 42 milliseconds to be exact.

Paladin could feel his lungs beginning to clear, his ribs resetting, his hands scabbing over. Time for action.

With a leap that could scare off even the most seasoned athletes, Paladin pushed himself off the road and charged at Page with all his might. His mind cleared save for two thoughts: the swords resting somewhere near the wreck of his precious car, and the prospect of gutting Page like a fucking fish. Paladin could feel his muscles tighten and loosen in unison, as the air around him slowed to a crawl while he zeroed in on Page's chest.

He brought his right fist around in a curve, slamming it into Page's face. He distinctly heard a crunch and a tiny shriek on impact, which might have impressed him on a better day. Twin glints of silver grew in size in his peripheral vision, seeming to rotate like spinning wheels. But these wheels would be less the driving variety, and more the "slice and dice" sort.

He didn't have long. Paladin shifted his leg into a side-kicking position, sweeping it underneath Page's legs. Still moving slower than him, Page could only give a look that was most appropriate of someone having swallowed a sour item while being kicked in the shin – sheer, painful shock.

Paladin opened his hands, and launched off his right leg into the air. After all, if you have superhuman powers and can milk them for style, why the hell wouldn't you?

Time returned to normal as the situation played out: Page fell to the pavement screaming in agony, as Paladin flipped mid-air to catch the twin blades and landed behind his wounded foe. He rose up again and held one of the blades against Page's neck.

Page took a moment from his agonized shrieking to register the shiny metal blade. "Ah – I'd forgotten your preference of the katana. And, apparently, your... omnipotent qualities."

"Ah, well, I don't blame you. Heroes get the best tools for the job, didn't you know?" Paladin would have preferred a proper one-liner to end this damned crusade, but this would have to suffice.

"Unfortunately," Page spoke in a pained rasp, "I'd have to disagree."

Before he could look up, he heard the blast. A shotgun round, likely from an assault-type firearm. Shot from about 6 meters, straight for him. In a hurried motion, he began to circulate his blades in unison.

As expected, the blast hit his blades and burst into numerous tiny shards, ricocheting across the crash site. A moment later, he regained a grip on the blades and took stock of his adversary. A tall man, taller than himself, his foe was a pale skinned brute with thick mechanical arms and legs. His hair was long and grey, with the texture of dried straw. He wore a black face mask linked via tubes to a chest-mounted compartment. And with the one hand not holding a full-sized shotgun, limply hanging, with blood splattered across his face, was Adam.

Shit.

"Stand down, Paladin," spoke a mechanical voice from behind that face mask. "Allow Mr. Page to retrieve his property."

More shit.

But Adam was a friend. With a deep sigh, he pulled away from Page and stepped backwards. His swords were still by his side.

"Toss away the swords," said the augmented man, "or Jensen will be terminated."

"Terminate this, fucker." With that, he threw one sword horizontally at the augmented individual. It found its mark in the aug's chest, throwing him against the flipped Firebird. Adam collapsed but slowly began to rise back up, coughing increasingly.

Paladin continued on the hunt. He charged at the aug and gripped the blade still embedded in that man's torso, further impaling it into his body. Grey fluid began to seep from the wound as the augmented man gave off a piercing metallic shriek that might have constituted a cry of pain, if he had been human. Then, satisfied with the internal damage he caused this freak of nature, Paladin gripped the aug's face with his right hand and tensed up.

A surge of electricity shot through his arm and lit up the aug like a burning star, filling the air with light and smoke. The shriek increased in pitch if not in volume, which grated on Paladin like nails on a chalkboard. So he further tensed his muscles, and the sky brightened substantially.

A hand gripped his shoulder at that moment. "John, let him go."

Paladin grimaced, but he obeyed. Releasing his grip on the augmented being, he watched as the smoldering body collapsed to the ground, before reaching to pull his blade from its chest. A wet-sounding slurp rang out as the blade finally pulled free, which Paladin then wiped down with his sleeve to cleanse it of the sticky grey fluid now dripping from its edge.

"Now," said Paladin, "to Page."

The two turned back around to find Page now standing upright. Gripped tightly in his bloodied hand was a shiny rounded button-shaped device, blinking with a blue light.

"Page, you've lost," Adam announced clearly, raising his pistol. "Stand down and we'll show mercy."

"Mercy? MERCY? There's nothing left in this world, let alone MERCY. This is the reboot I need, the one I deserve. Years of planning and manipulation, and now it comes down to this. I will be God of this world, by means of my own making. If not in this time, then the next."

Paladin didn't have the time or the patience to let this play out. "Page, for once in your life, shut the fuck up." Then, not waiting to see Adam's response, he fired a blast of fire energy at Page's face.

But Page was fast. He leapt to the right to avoid the blast, clenching his already tight grip on the device to an even tighter degree. Paladin saw the blue light increase to an exponential degree, saw the fire blast collide with the burning chopper, saw the damaged fuselage burst in a sea of flames.

Adam ran for Page, leaping to grab at the device. But it was too late.

As the bright blue light collided with the fiery red light and consumed the air around him, Paladin wondered once more if hearts did go somewhere after death. And if they did, whether or not they would be forgiven for the destruction they had wrecked on the world.

Then he felt a massive weight on his chest as the mixed explosion slammed into him, a floating sensation fitting with the force of the blast throwing him upwards. Once more, darkness.


Many years, many trials, many sacrifices later...

"Master Aqua, it is a pleasure to see you once more," Yen Sid spoke in a low but pleasant tone. She saw the quiet, downplayed smile on his face and wished she had a camera. It certainly was a rare sight.

"It's wonderful to be back in the light again. After all this time... it feels like home."

She took a moment to take stock of the master's office. Virtually nothing had changed in the time she had been gone, right down to the bare state of Yen Sid's wooden desk. The intricately carved star and moon viewports looking out at the rest of the world were in the same shape as before, the shelves carrying his small but respectable book collection in pristine shape. Not a hint of wear and tear, dust and dirt anywhere.

"Yes," Yen Sid spoke, bringing her back to reality. "The terror that Xehanort intend to wreck on the worlds will never come to pass. I was very impressed by your collected demeanor in your confrontation with him – you set a good example for the younger Masters."

"Please, I was simply doing my duty," Aqua responded. "After all he put us through, Xehanort needed to fall."

"And so he did. But do not undersell your role in events. You helped bring Terra and Ventus back from the brink, and guided young Sora on the path towards balance - a necessary attribute in a Keyblade Master."

Aqua smiled. Sora was a good kid, a source of light in the dark times she had faced. "He had the makings of a Master already. I just... gave him some advice along the way."

"Regardless, be proud of your actions," Yen Sid said. "Now, to the matter at hand..."

"Yes, Yen Sid," Aqua said. "I wanted to discuss something else. Something's been weighing on me for a while now."

Yen Sid's expression became more neutral, an eyebrow raising in intrigue. "Go on."

"Well, you recall that I encountered others in the Realm of Darkness, other exiles who wandered along the shores, right?"

"Yes," Yen Sid spoke, "I believe Masters Sora and Riku gave a similar account of that realm after their defeat of Xemnas."

"Okay," said Aqua, not familiar with the reference. "Anyway, I couldn't get into it before because of what was happening with Xehanort, but... someone came to me in that realm. He spoke of other worlds beyond our reach and he warned me that a greater evil lay beyond the horizon. He said to fear the name Thanatos and disappeared when the other Masters came for me."

"Someone other than Ansem?"

"Yes. This man seemed younger, and older at the same time. He was ragged, tired, and I sensed great darkness in his soul beyond what the Realm radiated."

Yen Sid narrowed his eyes. "What was his name?"

Aqua took a moment to recall her long-time companion, the man who had conjured tales of grimy cities and soulless villains. She saw the sad dark eyes, the faded facial scars, the massive beard and the torn combat jumpsuit. He had spent the longest time simply sitting on that shore, looking wistfully at the shimmering sea.

She had sensed great sorrow in him. And great power.

"Paladin. His name was Paladin."