I: The Agent

Life in Radiant Garden was a simple affair for most citizens. People tended shops, ploughed fields, cooked meals, and everything else needed to keep a small city running smoothly. The residents made their livings, paid their taxes, and quietly went about their lives. The only times the police were needed was for channeling crowds during large public events. The word 'soldier' had nearly vanished from people's vocabulary. Peace had come to stay during Ansem the Wise's reign.

Every morning, the local newspaper was delivered to each door by young boys on skateboards or bicycles. The smell of brewing coffee permeated the air as each household prepared for the coming day. As the sun rose higher into the sky, the market district became more and more crowded as people began their daily errands. In the summer, many small carts were set up as street vendors began peddling their wares. In the winter, delicious smells wafted from bakeries as they prepared for the holiday season. When evening came, the stores emptied and the restaurants filled as workers and their families took a day off from cooking and sat down for a hot meal. Gradually, people made their way home, and the streets emptied. Radiant Garden slept, awaiting the sun's rise and the beginning of a new day.

There was a group of people, however, that did not readily integrate into Radiant Garden's daily routine. They left their homes before sunrise, entered the castle, and were not seen again until dusk. In taverns, they were the only people who didn't get asked how their day was. They were willing to talk cordially about anything else, but when conversations drifted towards the day's labor, they stayed tight-lipped. To a traveler passing through, the only way to tell these people apart from the average citizen was a small pin worn on their collar: the Seal of the Sage.

Most people assumed these government workers were involved in some kind of astronomic research, as they had stayed in the castle later and later since a large meteor shower had graced the skies. Nobody knew what kinds of experiments were being run in the depths of Ansem's secret laboratory. It was better that way. If the people knew what had been discovered, or worse, what had been created there, peace would never return to Radiant Garden.

Xehanort didn't mind keeping secrets from the public. In fact, he wanted to keep everything under wraps so that the local sense of morality wouldn't get in the way of his experiments. How could he jeopardize his work when he was making such amazing discoveries? The citizenry wouldn't understand. He'd be labeled a 'monster' and Ansem would be forced to banish him. And that was the best-case scenario.

Yes, secret was the ideal way to operate in Xehanort's line of work. Most people didn't have an inkling of the power contained in each heart, nor did they want one. And if Ansem's right-hand man had his way, they never would.

He had assumed for the longest time that their cloak of secrecy was airtight; nothing got in, nothing got out. However, research as groundbreaking as his own could not stay bottled up forever. He knew at some point somebody would slip. A little too much liquor after work one day, a bribe from a wealthy and curious citizen, a demand for information by the public… all had been considered as possible breaches of security. Xehanort expected it sooner or later. While he dreaded that day, he always assumed it would be later rather than sooner.

That was his worry every day when he turned in his daily report, today more so than ever. He rapped twice on the door to Ansem's study.

"Come in," a deep voice replied, "I assume you want to share your results with me, Xehanort."

The young scientist opened the door and bowed to his superior. "I don't know how you do it, Master. All of my colleagues are just as likely to make a report at any given time as I am, yet you correctly identified me again." He approached Ansem's large desk and placed his work on it. "I am beginning to wonder if you are clairvoyant."

Ansem laughed, the sound echoing from deep inside the old man. "And I am beginning to wonder if you question my intelligence, Xehanort. All of your colleagues have left for home, with the exception of Ienzo." He put on his reading glasses and picked up the report, quickly reading the abstract. "But of course, he's in the library again," Ansem mumbled, his eyes following the report's sharp formatting. "Please, sit. There's no need to stand at attention."

Several minutes of silence followed. Xehanort patiently awaited his superior's reaction to the data collected that day. Though the clues were subtle, the researcher had worked with the sagacious ruler for long enough to read his expression. A slight widening of the eyes, minute quickening of breath. He was almost at the end. Xehanort could see Ansem pause and reread a small segment of text. He had reached the unlikely yet irrefutable conclusion of years' worth of research.

"Xehanort, this… this is incredible," Ansem slowly dictated. "It's not just a legend?"

Smiling, Xehanort rose from his chair. "I triple-checked my figures. With enough hearts, it is actually possible to summon Kingdom Hearts. The Kingdom Hearts." Somberly, he added, "Though where we could get that many hearts is another matter."

Ansem removed his glasses and set the report back on his desk. "It doesn't matter. The mere theoretical possibility of Kingdom Hearts means that we have gravely underestimated the power of each individual heart." He leaned back against his chair. "Now I understand why those creatures we created are so strong."

Nearly a half an hour of technical discussion followed. When Xehanort finally left the study, he was elated. This would surely allow him to work clear through the next decade unobstructed. He walked through the halls with the closest thing to a bounce in his step as he ever got. It earned his many a strange look, as the denizens of the castle were accustomed to seeing him walk stiff as a board with a mildly short temper.

He took a shortcut that was usually reserved for maintenance staff, but nobody ever bothered him about it. Normally, the darkened passage was empty, which is why Xehanort's heart skipped a beat when he heard a voice behind him.

"You weren't the first."

He whipped around, expecting to see a jealous colleague in a white lab coat. He saw nothing. His eyes, still adjusting to the darkness, did not see the teen leaning a recessed door, dressed in dark clothes. When it became obvious that the scientist could not see him, the boy left his hiding spot, standing near a dim light.

Though taller than the teen by several inches, Xehanort's first reaction was to shrink away from him. The dim light cast strange shadows across the boy's sharp features, making his expression unreadable. His clothing was halfway between stylish and functional. Though mostly black with many pockets, there were gray accents on many parts. And though the light was hardly enough to be sure, Xehanort could have sworn he saw a sheathed knife in front of the boy's left shoulder. Whoever this was, he was no mere child.

The teen smiled and shook his head. "For a scientist who thinks he just made a huge discovery, you're taking my news awfully well."

Xehanort wanted to challenge the boy's haughty statement immediately, but thought it wise to find out more about the intruder before security came looking for him and beat the teen into unconsciousness. "Who are you?"

"I'm someone with very important information. You barely scratched the surface of my research with your report." The mysterious figure opened a pocket on his vest, producing a small object. "This is at least five years ahead of you. If you were to buckle down and get to some real science."

He tossed the object to Xehanort, who deftly caught it. It was a clear case with a piece of tape on the top where a label was written. Inside was a small orange-tinted crystal that Xehanort recognized instantly – a super-dense memory crystal. On the tape, written in neat capital letters, were the words Report: Subject 031 – Strife, Cloud.

"That information is incredibly dangerous in the wrong hands. You must not allow it to be used by anyone with malicious intent. You know how to destroy a memory crystal, right?"

For the first time, Xehanort was able to put aside his panic and fear to allow his normal, arrogant self to shine through. "Of course. You just drop it on something. It's not rocket science."

The teen chuckled. "This coming from the man whose research was just rendered moot by a kid with a hunch. Excuse me if I have to make sure you know what you're doing."

Xehanort could feel anger rising in him. "Moot? You think this is even close to the kind of work I'm doing? I'm at the premier research facility for this subject in the world. How do you get off saying you just rendered my research moot? I ought to smack you where you stand!"

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"The hell you wouldn't! Get over here, you smug bastard!"

"Sir? Sir, what happened to you?"

Xehanort was vaguely aware that the voice he heard was talking to him. He wondered why he was being woken up so early, and is his own home, to boot. Nobody but his core group of colleagues knew where he lived, and this voice was nothing like any of theirs.

Slowly, he began to register some discomfort. This was not his bed. But it didn't feel like any floor surface in his house. It was a cold, hard surface. In fact, it felt like concrete.

The odd revelation brought the scientist closer to consciousness. He wasn't even in his own house. This was the maintenance corridor he took on his way out of the castle when he wanted to leave quickly. The voice was that of a security guard. The pain in his wrist was from… a pair of handcuffs?

Xehanort looked in dumb shock at the pair of metal rings chained together. One was fastened securely around his wrist, and the other was locked to a pipe that disappeared into the concrete floor.

"Wha… what's going on?"

"Somebody contacted us when you didn't check out an hour after you usually leave. We talked to Ansem, and he said you had left around 9:00. I found you here after almost 2 hours of searching this damn place."

The scientist shook his head, which had started throbbing during the guard's explanation. "So… what am I doing handcuffed to a pipe?"

"I don't know, sir, but it probably has something to do with the gash on your forehead."

Xehanort reached up to feel his forehead. His hand met gauze and tape. "Sir? Do you remember what happened to you? It looked like you had been hit hard with the butt of a knife."

In a flash, he remembered the incidents from earlier. The mysterious boy. The quip about his research. The crystal. "No," he lied, "why would someone want to attack me? I've done nothing wrong. And I'm in the castle. This place is supposed to be safe/"

The guard nodded in agreement. "I'll say. My boss is getting reamed right now for not keeping the last shift up on their patrols. Apparently somebody forgot to tell him that their special lady friend was in town today and that he'd be missing his shift.

Did that boy really create a hole in our security all by himself? Xehanort wondered. If so, then he was even more dangerous than it seemed. Given that it seemed like the boy had quickly and efficiently put the scientist out of commission, it could safely be said that he was a threat.

Over the next few hours, Xehanort was checked by various medical teams, interviewed by the head of security, and finally was collected by Ansem himself and led off to his study. After making sure that his subordinate was not permanently injured, he departed, offering Xehanort his offices overnight accommodations. He gladly accepted and bid Ansem good night.

Once the sage had left, Xehanort produced the memory crystal that he had stored in his lab coat and accessed the main computer. The data left him absolutely stunned. When the teen had said that it was five years ahead of Xehanort's research, it had been a conservative estimate. The conclusions reached were beyond his wildest dreams. Staggering discoveries about power and the potential consequences of losing one's heart were made.

Xehanort finished reading the report after several hours. He left the terminal in shock, wondering how he would be able to sleep after receiving such a huge amount of information. As he removed his lab coat, a small shred of paper fell from his pocket. He picked it up, unfolding it and reading the neat handwriting.

Sorry about your head.

Got a little carried away with the knife.

Have fun with the data!

-Jet

The Agent