I own not 'Kingdom Hearts', nor do I make any profit from this story. I should warn you here, though, that this will contain spoilers for the game.

OBLIVION- PROLOGUE

The Key to salvation, The Key to ruin...

Those who bring upon these, are the crafters of the end...

Twilight Town. A city nestled in the mountains, with a magnificent clock tower standing in its center. The citizens here have lived lives of peace for years, nothing threatening the serenity that blanketed the town. There is a long trail that stretches down the mountains to the beach below, and most of the children spend their time there during the summertime. An arena is even present in the town, and various festivities and tournaments take place there. It is a place that has not been tainted by corruption, a place where one can rest their soul. Yet there lies a mansion, near the back of the town. Huge and abandoned, it casts an oppressive shadow on the surrounding buildings and streets. No one goes near it, and people tend to not speak of it. Covered with vines and moss, and in desperate need of repair, it has been like this for years. A large, black gate prohibits entry, with a great padlock hanging from the front. It is a saddening view when compared to the rest of the town. It remains untouched, behind that giant gate... But this fateful day, a young boy had completed his daily tasks, and was heading for home. His skateboard snuggled under his arm, he walked through the empty streets, many retiring to their homes and family for the day.

He was somewhat tall, with a mess of spiky, dirty blond hair. His tan jacket and pants rustled in the sudden breeze, and his eyes were a gentle blue. Perhaps too gentle. On this day, as he traveled home, he passed by that great, black gate. He paid it no attention at first, having been by it countless times and knowing that it was just an old, rundown mansion. But today there was something different about, something out of place. He nudged his head just slightly to the left, enough to see that the gate lay open. There was a very, very small opening, but his young, keen senses could spot it and realize the difference. He stared at it for a time, but curiosity got the better of him.

He went towards it, looking up at the grand building as he went. He could feel a strange sensation coming from it. A knot formed in the pits of his stomach, but he was of the courageous type, and so he left his skateboard leaning against the steel gate and pushed it just a little more with his other hand. It was surprisingly light for its size, but he noticed it not. The golden, brick path to the mansion lay before him, snaking in and around the plants and trees on both sides. Gulping and gathering up his bravery, he started forward. He knew in his mind that this was wrong, that he should turn back and continue on home, but at the same time it was as if something was pulling him towards the building.

Besides, he had not a family, and his friends would not pay mind if he was a little late in returning to the clock tower. Shaking off any second thoughts, he continued to the mansion itself, finally reaching its front door. He looked up at it, taking it all in. He had always wondered what this place was for, what significance it has. Before he tried the door handle he took a wary look back. What if someone saw his skateboard? What if they saw the gate? He shook his head. He would not be long, just a quick glance and then he would be out of there. It would only take five minutes at the very least, and fifteen at the maximum.

The boy returned his attention to the door, two brass handles on both sides. He thought about knocking, but he realized that was illogical. No one lived here, not anymore, and in his time in the town he had not ever heard of anyone even having resided here. Yet this place, in his mind, would be an elegant, and beatiful place if repaired-how could anyone not choose to live here? While he ran this through his mind, his hands rose to grasp the handles. With little effort he pushed the doors open, not having been locked. A cold realization hit him. What if someone had gone inside? It would explain why both the gate and the door were unlocked, but he solified his resolve and stepped inside.

A sudden gush of wind swept through and past him, and the doors shut loudly. He jumped at this, like an animal if it were awoken from a deep slumber, and looked back. If anyone were inside, now they would know that someone had intruded on their activities. He waited for a moment, listening to the creak of the old building. It was dreadfully dark, the only light coming through dusty and cracked windows. Ahead of him was a staircase that split to the let and right, and to his right was another door. Nothing to his left, and he began towards the staircase, but stopped. Right beside the first steps was a drawer of sorts. That was not what caught his gaze, but it was the only object atop the piece of furniture that was curious. It was a picture frame, full of dust. He felt compelled to touch it, which he did.

Taking it into his hand he turned it around and back, seeing that it was naught but a picture frame. But then he diverted his attention to the picture itself. Blowing it gently to rid some of the dust, he squinted to make out what the picture was. His eyes widened in surprise. It was him, and his three other friends. Olette, Pintz, and Hayner. What was a picture of them doing here? He looked more closely. Yes, he recalled when this was taken, but who had taken it? He could nearly make the person out, but, but... no. It was a blank. It was like it had been torn from his memory.

A deep rumbling noise reached his ears, and he could feel it beneath him. His head spun to look towards the staircase's first landing. The entire first part of the staircase itself was shifting forward, separating from the wall. Clouds of dust rose, and more fell from the surroundings. Without knowing it he dropped the picture frame, the glass shattering and leaving the picture to curl on the floor. The boy took a step back, and then one forward. He hesitated, but like before, something was pulling him to it, like a magnet he was attracted. He glanced down at the picture, at the same time clenching his fists nervously. He was afraid. He knew he should have ran out of there, left it all behind, but his heart told him differently.

As he approached the landing, he wondered if he had triggered this by picking up the frame. It was not too well-hidden a mechanism, but perhaps the resident of this place thought that no one would pay an old, abandoned mansion mind. The boy knew now, without a single doubt, that someone was here. And his fear grew upon reaching the new discovery. Before him was a stairwell, one that had been hidden beneath the other staircase. This one lead downward, underground, and curled in a spiral. He peered into the darkness, trying to see where it ended. Alas, however, it was impossible. He contemplated on whether or not to descend the stairwell, but, once again, curiosity prevailed over logic.

Steadily he went, his footsteps echoeing ever downward. His journey was not a long one, though; a light could be seen below, leading into a room. His imagination stayed dormant, however, and this had actually surprised him. He could remember when he was younger that he would spend most of his time daydreaming and thinking about the world beyond this place, this town. What else was out there? There had to be something; the world could not just end with this town... could it?

He remembered these dreams he would spontaniously have. A variety of places radically different than his town. But one stood out to him most, like the brightest star in the night sky. It was a series of islands closely bound together. One contained a town, filled with houses, a school, and other things. It was something like Twilight Town, but at the same time, not in any way the same. On another island, children would play, laughing and enjoying themselves, with the sun in their eyes and the sun beaming down upon them. Yet, during one dream, this peace was shattered. The islands were hit by a dreadful storm, where black storm clouds boomed with thunder and raging winds tore at the island. No rain fell.

A cave was emphasized in this dream. Inside, the walls were covered with the drawings of the children. At the back of the cave, however, was a large, oak door, outlined by a gold rim...

There was a castle as well, in other dreams, with a valley covered with rising waterfalls leading up to it. The castle was in ruins, and the village surrounding its base in the same state. The interior was in slightly better shape, but still nothing to amaze. He assumed something had happened to the castle, something major to leave it as such.

He finally stopped at the end of the stairwell, facing a long, entirely white room. In the center of the room was a very long, vertical table that matched the room's length almost completely. Multiple chairs, around thirteen or so, surrounded the table, and behind it, at the end of the room, was a single door. He looked around in awe at the extreme clarity of the room. It was as if not a single speck of dust was in the room. He turned to the front, to see that someone else was present. Sitting at the opposite end of the table was a girl, most likely of the same age as the boy. She was wearing something of a short, white dress. Somewhat long, light blonde hair adorned her head, and her intense eyes were focused on the notebook in her hands. A pencil was in her eyes, and the boy found it difficult to lay his eyes upon her; there was a powerful aura surrounding her, invisible, but there all the same.

"...So you came," she said, looking up at him. The notebook was set down onto the surface of the table. She smiled, but it made him uncomfortable. How had this girl known he was coming? He opened his mouth to speak, but she motioned for him to remain silent. "Please, sit down," she said, waving her am at the table before them. He hesitated, but eventually pulled the chair opposite of her and sat.

Something was familiar about this chair, this table. He had been here before, however his fists clenched. He was not happy to feel this. He would rather have not felt it at all. "My name... is Namime, and your name... is Roxas... isn't it?"

The boy's eyes widened in surprise, and he squinted at her in suspicion. He leaned forward. "How... do you know my name?" he asked nervously, a drop of sweat forming near his right temple. Nausea slowly became apparent within him, and this only worsened with what she said next.

"I know quite a bit about you... more than you most likely know about yourself. When it all comes down to it, though, you were never really meant to exist." Roxas blinked. Had he heard right? Certainly his hearing was not being affected in this place as well.

"...What do you mean? What do you mean I wasn't meant to exist?"

Namine lost her smile, replacing it with a frown. "You are a NEO, Roxas, but in your case, you are special. You are different, unique... I... I should apologize, though. If only Sora-,"

"'NEO'?" he inquired fearfully. "W-What... What is that, and, and... who is Sora?" He stood up, nearly knocking the chair. He stared at her, seemingly angry, but really confused and afraid. She stood up as well, and beckoned him over to the door. "Please, follow me; all will become clear."

She opened the door and he reluctantly followed her through it. They appeared in a hallway identical to the room before, once again with a single door at the end. This was repeated several times, but with the doors alternating in location. It was similar to a labryinth, thought the boy, and he wondered if he would be able to find the way out on his own... the thought was unbelievable, but something deep inside of him told him otherwise. It was a conflict between logic and emotion, and he had no idea what to think. At last, she stopped before a door, larger than the rest. She glanced at him worriedly. "Are you sure you want to go in?"

He looked at her increduously. "What do you mean, 'am I ready'? I'm the one following you, remember?" The boy was agitated by this time, only wanting to leave and go home. He cursed his curiosity, it was what got him into this predicament. She looked down at the floor, inspecting her sandals.

"...Yes, alright. Come along then," she responded, and opened the door, unleashing a bright light. Roxas shielded his eyes, but slowly let his arm fall, seeing that the light had been temporary. He rubbed his eyes to help them adapt to the new lighting, and continued on inside, with Namine coming in behind him. He looked around in awe ant the sheer simplicity of it all. The walls and floor were a hazy white, melding into each other. The ceiling was a formless, white light, and before him were three, massive flower-like objects. They were majestic, violet pods, their pedals surrounding the one occupant in each. He stared up at the person within the pod. A teenage boy, no older than himself, with a tuff of brunet hair. Roxas backed away. The resemblance between him and that boy was uncanny; it startled him.

"He is Sora... and you are his Nobody, his other half," she informed him.

"His... Nobody... What does that mean?" he asked while turning back to her.

"It means that he is not complete. He, Sora, lost his body and soul, but someone very special to him restored him to his former self. However, he is still missing something very crucial-part of his heart."

Roxas brought his hand up to his chest, the realization hitting him hard. He stared into Sora's face, who was blissfully unaware of what was happening around him. "...Does that mean... that my heart isn't complete?" He closed his eyes, laying his hands on the pod's cool surface. "I hope you understand... that I'm having a hard time taking this in. I'm, I'm a person, not some... shadow of someone else...!" he exclaimed, restraining himself from losing control. After several moments of silence, he stepped back.

"...Are my dreams... That island, the castle... Are they... related to Sora?"

"They are Sora's memories, the places he's been to. He has a great burden on his shoulders, but his journey is nearly done. Nearly, and what is left will be a true test of his character. It wil not be easy... and he will need your help," she stated. Roxas looked to her and then to the pod, shaking his head.

"My help? I didn't ask to be a part of all this!" he said, clenching his fists. "...This...!"

"...But you already are," came another voice, cold and plain. It echoed throughout the beautiful room, and with it appeared a man, garbed in red cloth. He stepped into sight, his black cape swaying with each step. His face was wrapped up in red, aside from over his left eye and mouth. He eyed Roxas casually, a slight grin forming. "I have been searching," he said calmly, "for one powerful enough... to destroy the Organization."

Roxas ground his teeth, glaring at him. "...Are you talking to me... or Sora?" he questioned, his anger flourishing into a concentrated spot. Then, as if from an explosion within himself, something formed in his hands. It was a large key, with a handle and wristguard similar to that of a sword. It was a weapon. "W-What?" he stammered, staring at it in awe.

"...Sora is not ready to face them... in his current state," continued the man, as if the key had never formed. "...He cannot defeat... him, even with the other's help. Tell me, boy, can you feel him? Can you feel Sora?"

The boy held the key at the ready, knowledge flowing throughout him. He had used this weapon before, fought with it; he was confident that he could strike this man down, whoever he was. "How about you tell me this, first-who are you? And what is this Organization?" He found himself brave, the previous fear dissipating.

The man chuckled, amused at the boy's sudden change. "I am called DiZ," he responded coldly. "...You know the answers to your own questions, however; you have merely forgotten... correct, Namine?"

The girl had been standing off to the side, refusing to be drawn into this conflict. She meekly stared at Roxas, who was spinning his head back and forth between them. "What? Namine," he said, using her name for the first time, "what is he talking about?" She saw genuine uncertainty in his eyes, and she suddenly regretted what she had done, although she had been forced to do it in the first place. DiZ laughed, approaching the boy, who jumped back, his weapon at the ready.

"The memories you lost, Roxas, were replaced by memories of Sora's, yet they are still there, lost within that fragile, miniscule heart of yours..."

The blond boy tightened his grasp on the key and held it out in front of him, threateningly. "What... What have you done to me?" he shouted before lunging at DiZ and attacking. As he swung, however, the key hit only air, the man having disappeared. He reappeared behind him.

"...So much potential," he said quietly while placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. Roxas shook him off and turned, his emotions a garbled mess. "...Just who am I?" he asked, falling to his knees. The Keyblade faded away, his powerful feelings no longer sustaining its presence. The mysterious man stood there, casting a shadow over him.

"...You have a choice. But understand that this choice will not only affect your life from this point on, but also that of everyone you care for. You can either cooperate with me until the inevitable point when you must decide, or you can retreat back into that empty shell you refer to as a life. I know of your recent turmoil, but now... you do not have to remain a mere audience member..."

The boy rose, his head bowed. He had made his decision, and, for the first time, he did not regret his feelings overcoming his reasoning. "Just tell me what I have to do."

END-PROLOGUE