One

The clean, cold scent ever so familiar to Anna hit her nose in a gentle, wafting breeze. This breeze, too, she noticed, was easily recognizable. It was that gentle, pleasant chill of Radiant Garden that she had never felt anywhere else. No matter where she went, that chill was always home.

Home. At last.

Five years had passed in Anna's life, separated from the people she loved and the home she had spent the other eighteen years in. Now, at twenty-three, she was a strikingly beautiful young woman; slender, pale, and with long, brown hair always full of sheen. What Anna had never realized in all of her twenty-three years, however, was that she hadn't changed since the day she was born.

Suddenly, she realized that she was rather hot. It seemed odd, what with the constant cold, but as she removed her jacket, exposing her sleeveless turtleneck, she was hit with a sudden joy. The cold was something everyone here got used to. It was official, now. She was back.

As she made it into the city, she realized that it was different than how she had left it; bigger, but nicer and more inviting in a way that she couldn't quite put her finger on. It didn't really bother her, though. It must've meant Daddy was doing well for himself.

Daddy…

Yes, that was whom she was here to see. As new as the city was, it didn't take her long to find the tram system that led to the castle. Surprisingly, however, the simple platforms had been replaced. Instead, she found nifty tramcars that traveled back and forth between the castle and town. Oddly, nobody seemed to be interested in visiting. People tended to crowd the castle before she had left, and she couldn't imagine why no one was on the car. Still, it was more free room. She sat down and relaxed as the car began its automated route.

As it passed over the crystal canyons, she couldn't help but take a look into the peaceful deep that had once been her thinking spot. It brought back memories of the times that she had needed her own space, downtime. Daddy had showed it to her when she was younger, and it became her favorite place to be.

Now, she was bubbling with excitement. After what seemed like an eternity, the car made its stop. She raced to the front door, her ominous, stone defender from birth, and allowed it to swing open.

"Daddy!" she cried, rushing in, "I'm home!" She stood, grinning, waiting for him to arrive. When nothing happened, her smile began to fade. "Daddy!" she called again. Still, nothing. "Ienzo? Xehanort? Braig?" Nobody responded.

In the midst of looking about for any sign of life, she noticed that the foyer wasn't neat and tidy anymore. Pots and statues were smashed, railings were splintered, there were slash marks on the walls, and the carpeting was filthy and tattered. No, the room wasn't just dirty. It was destroyed. This wasn't a case of bad housekeeping. Something had happened.

She dropped her suitcase and ran up the stairs, down the hall, and into the library. While this wasn't destroyed, there was little sign that it was being used. She could remember people coming in and out of here, always reading books. She could distinctly remember Even being quite an avid reader. If that wasn't enough, the entire place was dusty and dirty. Nobody cared anymore.

She ran up the steps, a knot forming in her throat in fear, and to the stone, cold lift system. She touched the crystal, warped into the elevator, and proceeded to rap on the bar in a specific rhythm. Rather than rise, it sank into the lower levels. The halls.

Now came a painful horror. The halls, normally brazen and fantastic, were now a miserable labyrinth of debris. She slowly shuffled through them, agape, horrified, looking upon the destruction. There must've been an explanation. There was simply no sense in this.

Suddenly, a miniscule, shadowy creature with bulbous yellow eyes and antennas materialized in front of her. Its body bobbed and weaved constantly, but always had its eyes fixed on her. Then, she was surrounded by them before she could tell what happened. They closed in, filthy little claws reached out. One caught her on the arm, and she recoiled, trying to get out of the black circle.

Then came the sphere of light. A small disc swept across the floor and positioned itself under one of the monsters. It changed into two, one rising up and exposing a peculiar little ball. The animal was vaporized, and the sphere raced across the ground to strike the others. As more of the little beasts appeared, more digital demons rose to face them.

"Anna!" came a distinguishable voice from what seemed to be the air.

"Tron?" she called in response.

"No time, Anna! Follow the blue disk!" At this, a blue disk appeared and hovered in midair, a disk that she recognized as an identity disk. Anna wasted no time in wondering how it got here and followed it as it lead her down the halls as more of the creatures rose from the darkness to face the digital orbs. She let her legs carry her as fast as they could past the pain that began to arise until at last they reached Ansem's study. The door behind them slammed shut and she heard the heavy lock situate itself.

"Never thought I'd see you again, Anna," Tron spoke. This time, he, too, was in the room. He reached for his disk, replaced it on his back, and smiled. "I apologize for not being much use, personally, back there. But, as you can see, I'm not much use anywhere but inside the system."

"Understandable," Anna managed to mutter through her deep breaths. She looked up after she had caught her breath, only to finally let the tears flow. The study, while not in the worst shape of the entire castle, looked the worst in her eyes. This had been Ansem's study, his own personal crystal canyon. He could think here, he could be alone here. He had even been known to sleep here. Now, everything was turned over and scattered about, and, most disturbingly, young Xehanort's portrait hung on the wall, rather than Ansem's own.

"Puzzling," Tron sighed, "I know. I will say that it all revolves around those creatures outside."

"What are they?" Anna asked.

"Your father was a scientist," Tron began, "and, like every good scientist, he had his life's work."

"You're making no sense," she choked. "And what do you mean 'was'? Where is my father?"

Tron frowned and let his head sink for a moment before saying, "He left a year after you did. In the wake of his leave, those unfortunate animals obliterated Radiant Garden. In a sense, they took your father's colleagues with them."

"What do you mean?"

"Heartless, Anna. Malevolent beings that live solely for the purpose of destruction, to devour hearts."

"That's not possible," Anna insisted. "My father's work didn't involve heart-sapping, sadistic shadows. He worked to uncover the secrets of the heart."

"And in doing so, unleashed darkness incarnate," Tron finished. "When they find prey, they seek to rob it of its heart, creating more of themselves, as well as separate entities forged from the catatonic body."

"Don't put him at fault!"

"Your father was a great and wise man, but he made an error. Every good scientist does. Unfortunately, some are too great and nearly irreparable. Your father's error happened to be one of these."

"When did you turn on us, Tron?" Anna sobbed. She was never one for crying loudly, but now she was confused, scared, and enraged.

Tron smiled again and answered, "I overlooked your birth, Anna. The only person that could care about you more than I do is your father, and I have nothing but respect for him." At this, Anna's sobs softened, and she tried to hug her friend, then remembered that he wasn't actually here. She laughed to herself through her tears and calmed down.

"Why is Xehanort's picture on the wall?" she asked.

Tron looked over his shoulder and said, "Xehanort became something your father never anticipated. Their experiments caused a transformation in the way Xehanort functioned. The effects began to spread like a disease to the rest of the apprentices, and they began to get out of control in their own experiments. When they reached the point of no return, your father left for safety's sake. Even had he stayed, there would have been nothing he could have done to save his home. Radiant Garden was decimated, and became Hollow Bastion: the source of the Heartless."

"That's why it was different," Anna murmured in despair and thought.

"After one of Xehanort's egos met his match, a few survivors of the slaughter returned to begin reconstruction. Given the timeframe, I would say they did phenomenally." This didn't hit Anna as well as Tron had hoped. She folded her arms and looked to the floor, still stuck on Ansem's predicament.

"Where?" she asked, "Where is he now?"

To this Tron had no answer that would satisfy her. He frowned again and sighed, "I can only speculate."

Anna overlooked the crystal canyons from the castle postern, emotions finally in check. Ansem could be alive, but right now, she didn't give that a high probability. Surely, if he had heard of Radiant Garden's restoration, he would have returned to see it, at least. She wanted to cry in bewilderment and despair, but she had done enough of that already. Now, she was in as much of her thoughtful spot as she was willing to be without leaving the castle. Someone had to be here, at least for now.

"You shouldn't do that, you know," came a strong voice from her right. "Leaving your friends and not returning for years on end." She turned to see a lean, muscular man with long, brown hair and a black ensemble. "You can really scare some people."

"Leon," she sighed, going to him and hugging him. Leon had been her friend for as long as she could remember, and a big fan of Ansem.

"You've really missed a lot," he said as they separated.

"So I've heard," she responded, turning back to the canyons, "but I still don't fully understand."

"Not many of us do. But what I can tell you is that the castle isn't safe anymore. This is the only place where the Heartless fester lately."

"There isn't a way to get rid of them?"

"We've tried," Leon answered, "and we've managed to keep them out of town. But there's something about the castle that they still love."

"Where is my father?" Anna asked after a long moment of thinking. "If he were here, he could handle it. I know it. Now where is he?"

Leon choked. He couldn't bring himself to say it, not only for her sake, but it was still painful to think that Ansem was…

She looked at him sternly, and he looked back, his face grave.

"I see," she finished.

"I'm sorry, Anna," Leon managed. He went to put a comforting arm on her shoulder…

…And found the space already occupied.

"Poor child," a heavily accented, echoic voice spoke to Anna's left. Leon glanced at the arm around her shoulder, shocked. The flesh looked like it had been sun burnt beyond the tolerance of pain until it reached halfway up the forearm. There, it mutated into a giant bird's leg, complete with three unsettling talons.

Then, the beast stepped back, revealing his entire body to Leon. He was human everywhere else, it seemed. The rest of his shirtless body was disturbingly crimson, like his arms. His hair was blonde and hung in wisps on his head. His lower body was, apparently, human, covered by a tattered pair of khakis and old, black shoes.

"She loses everything in the course of one day," he continued. "One day! Where will she go after this? There is nothing but pain and anguish here."

"Anna, move!" Leon shouted, reaching for his gunblade, only to find that it was gone. He turned around to see a man shrouded in a black outfit that made him look fit for a stealth operation. He removed his cowl to reveal a startlingly pale man with shiny, black hair that reminded Leon of a raven. His eyes, he kept covered with a black bandage. He looked like the perfect killing machine, and in his hand, he clutched Leon's weapon. The fiend taunted him silently and pitched the blade over the edge of the postern.

"Some women get all the cute ones," came another, distinctly female, voice. Leon turned again to see an exceptionally attractive woman with hair perfectly white. Her upper body was covered only with a piece of green cloth to cover her chest. Her arms were covered with long, green gloves, and her legs were concealed behind baggy green pants and black combat boots.

"I'll take her then, shall I?" a jovial man garbed in white suggested, grasping Anna gently by the arm and escorting her out of the castle.

"Your father was a great man, Anna!" Leon shouted after her, as it was the only thing he could think to say.

"Don't patronize the poor girl, you cad!" the red one snapped as they began to close in on him.

"Joy!" came a nasally voice from where Leon couldn't see. "I wanna see this!"

Defenseless, Leon could almost see himself being thrashed and left for dead by the creatures. As he lay, broken, on the ground, he could only stare at the sky in bewilderment and realization. It was happening.

Tartarus glanced over the icon in wonderment. He couldn't imagine how something so small could possibly begin the Great Journey. Still, he wasn't complaining, and he didn't make the rules. He looked ahead again and continued his march to the activation room.

"I must admit," the Oracle buzzed, "I do not concur with your manner of implicating protocol, but I am quite excited to see procedure followed through at last."

"Silence, you miserable machine," Tartarus growled, annoyed by the constant droning of the "holy" Oracle.

"Please, Tartarus," Truth spoke, "We must bear with our holy ally, at least until we have begun. Remember, he won't be coming with us on our journey." At this, Tartarus smiled and pressed on, his Brutes behind him, and all eager to flee from this oppressive place.

As they reached the chamber, everyone spread out, ready for the spectacle. With a sudden rush of disbelief, Tartarus looked at the icon and then at its future resting place.

"Come now, Chieftain," Truth insisted, coming to his side, "Surely, you aren't getting cold feet now?"

"No!" Tartarus barked, scared of what people would say if that were the case. Then, he remembered whom he was talking to. "No," he repeated with more respect. "No, noble prophet. I am simply awe-struck at this, our moment of salvation."

"Understandably so," Truth responded, stroking his beard. "As we all are. However, time waits for no one, Brute, Jackal, or even Hierarch. For our sakes, forget your apprehension and send us home."

"I'm sorry to say that you are not meant for this task," the Oracle hummed. "Procedure will not allow it."

"Procedure matters nothing to us, anymore, holy Oracle," Truth responded. He patted Tartarus on the shoulder and said, "Go, Chieftain."

Tartarus nodded and stepped towards the console, ready to put the icon in its place…

…And it splintered in his hand.

He turned in fury to see who would dare to disgrace the Covenant and saw Truth, his head sagged. Dead.

From behind Truth, a young human with brown hair walked behind a weasel of a creature, who floated above the ground and enveloped the both of them in a blue, transparent shield. Try as they might, even the strength of the Brutes couldn't break through the force field. As they came closer to Tartarus, more creatures filed in behind them, repelling any Brutes that dared oppose them. Finally, the female and her companion reached him, and the field dropped. The scrawny one left, leaving Tartarus staring into the eyes of the woman.

"You have inhibited our Great Journey," he snarled, "and you have murdered our last Prophet. I will have your head!" At this he raised his mighty hammer and brought it down…

…Only to have it intercepted.

He watched in annoyance as a mutated, red human grabbed his hammer and fought against him. But this wasn't possible. Only the demon had been anywhere close to the strength of a Brute.

"What you will do is listen to what your new leader has to say," the beast snarled over the pole of the hammer. "Or you will suffer the consequences."

"And what's to make me?"

As he said this, he noticed that another human, clad in black, raised a menacing knife to his throat.

"I would suggest that you calm yourself," the red one smirked, "And the rest of your Brutes."

Tartarus trembled with rage, but finally barked something to his companions and lowered his weapon.

The female stepped into the center of the room and spoke. "Contrary to what you may believe, your Great Journey will be your journey into death. If you activate Halo, you will all be destroyed."

As Anna expected, there was uproar amongst the Brutes. "Ask your Oracle!" she shouted.

"Indeed," the Oracle answered. "The installations are weapons of last resort, built by the Forerunners to eliminate potential Flood hosts, thereby rendering the parasite harmless."

"That means you," Anna spoke. Many of the Brutes calmed down, disgusted, scared, or confused, while some still talked amongst themselves.

"But there is another key out there," she continued. "One that causes great and terrible destruction. This key can lead you to a true salvation. I want this key, and I'm sure you want this key. But I can promise you that neither of us can do it alone. You see my power, but it is nothing without you. I know your power, but you can go nowhere without my knowledge.

"And so, I ask you, true, loyal members of the Covenant, to join me, and together, we will uncover the true path to salvation."

There was silence as Tartarus mulled this over. He looked over his Brutes, the new creatures, and the Oracle. Finally, he sank to a knee and said, "What would you have your Chieftain do?"

At this, there was a load roar of strength and approval from the Brutes. Tartarus still had some doubt, but if this human spoke the truth, she had saved all of their lives, and they were eternally indebted to her. The Brutes poured out of the chamber after her and her beasts, leaving the Oracle on its own.

"My, my," it whirred. "They are a boisterous bunch."