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Day 1: Vegas

The blonde-haired boy had to hold on to the center column of their tent for support, the explosion had shook their entire compound. A scowl set itself on his face as he glanced back at his teacher, "Master, someone's infiltrated the compound!" he murmured and glared out the open tent flap, "I can feel them, or, at least their darkness…"

"You're a bit late there, young one," the white haired man threw his head back and laughed at the boy, "calm, yourself, we've made precautions, we'll recover quickly and the search will begin soon. There's no need to waste more blood, it's hard to fight a war without any pawns…"

The boy nodded, but he could still feel the shifting darkness, someone was close. "Master…I feel like we're being watched…" he said solemnly, glancing back up at his teacher. The white haired man nodded with a dark grin on his face, "you're learning, child, now tell me, exactly where he is!" the man whispered back.

The blonde nodded his head and his eyes closed with deliberate slowness, he reached out with an ethereal touch, trying to search his surroundings for the flare of darkness we all have in our hearts. He felt his consciousness touch the massive darkness inside his master, before shying away in either fear, or respect. Finally, he found a small orb or darkness, almost swallowed by his master's energy, hidden feet away.

Unthinkingly, the boy moved his hand to point at the table at the edge of their tent, and opened his eyes to see his master nodding in approval.

The tanned man raised a hand, and an orb of grey fire took form. He flicked his wrist in the general direction of the small piece of furniture and watched in amazement as the small orb reduced the wooden table to a pile of splinters.

They both watched the small green-haired boy roll out from the table, the blonde's glare setting back into place. The child seemed surprised, and confused, but the older teen wasn't going to give him time to recover.

He tackled the small boy through the tent's entrance, trying to pin him against the rocky ground. "Vegas!" his master called after him, but the boy tuned him out. He didn't mean to ignore the wiser man, but he could feel it taking hold, the warmth spreading to his body, the trembling in his hands, insanity was setting in.

The boy frowned solemnly and summoned his weapon to his hands, trying to drive it through the smaller boy's chest. In that moment before the blade made contact, the small child completely disappeared, not a trace that he had ever existed.

The control of darkness he had used previously came instantly to him; he could feel the keyblader, hiding behind a barrel only ten feet away. The larger teen flung his massive keyblade at the hidden child, a look of remorse on his face as the boy scrambled away.

"Stop running and fight me!" he shouted at the green-haired boy and ran at him, trying to cleave him through. It wasn't until Vegas was only a foot away that the child chose to defend himself, a keyblade instantly taking shape in his left hand, raised to block the incoming attack.

The two met at the hilt, the blonde's wing-adorned gold and silver blade, against the boy's fragile looking crystal keyblade. The larger teen shoved the boy from their stalemate, and he skidded away several yards. The gap in their strength was tremendous, the blonde could probably crush the boy in a single blow. "Listen, I don't want to kill you, but it is what my master wishes." he told the younger boy.

He moved in a blur, in half a second he was inches from the boy, his blade coming down, ready to crush the small male. He was surprised when the child danced around him, and even more surprised when he felt the knee strike his back, the boy wasn't even trying!

Vegas could feel the rage building inside him, he tried to fight it, to keep it from taking hold as it always did, he didn't want to lose control, not again. It changed him, it wasn't a physical mutation, but the change in power was noticeable, with his emotional high, his battle prowess was three fold. He lost control.

The blonde whipped around to smile darkly at the small boy; he jumped back several yards, nonchalantly tossing his weapon in the air. That was one of the few skills his master had imparted, the different styles of keyblade.

For centuries, people had believed that the keyblade was uniform, that nothing could change it, until a child was born, a child so gifted in magic, that his weapon took a different form. They discovered that the keyblade was merely a gateway to an entire arsenal of weaponry, a weapon meant to fit anyone, no matter how they fought.

He had only learned to use one other form of keyblade, the key-knife. The small weapon was all he needed to deal with this brat.

He dove for the child, his swing invisible to anyone, but him; the light weapon was much quicker to attack with. With such a small weapon he could attack, completely unnoticed, until the blade met skin.

The blonde half expected to see the small green-haired boy in ribbons on the ground, sliced like a slaughtered pig, but fate had smiled on the child.

The boy had blocked the brute of the attack, but the blood blossoming on his shoulder was proof that at least a single hit had landed; the boy was as good as dead now.

To anyone watching, they'd think the pair were just staring at each other, but anyone looking closely enough could see the small cuts in the boys clothing, the bits of torn fabric laying on the ground.

The child, in a desperate attempt, struck the older teen's wrist when he blocked an attack, his body whipping around in a lightning quick round-house kick.

Vegas smiled, his weapon flashing to his side to stop the attack, a smug grin sat his as the child's ankle met silver.

The boy gasped in pain and jumped back, his weapon held over his head, "Cura!" he cried and let out a sigh of relief and the blood stopped, the child knew he was losing, he had the information he needed, they just needed to stall until the others arrived, so no need to save his energy.

The blonde leapt at the smaller male again, but the child did a quick back flip, his small foot caught the teen's jaw and knocked him away, buying him a few moments rest.

The moment the boy was back on his feet, he dashed at the larger boy, his weapon slamming into the blonde's side, forcing him a step to the side.

And so began his onslaught, the boy moved like the wind, each step he took was quick and graceful, he struck every opening in Vegas' body at once, but the effort was killing the child, he'd be dead if help didn't arrive soon.

Vegas grew sick of the boy's annoying attack, with one rage filled cry, he released a wave of darkness, the energy twisting and shifting as it attacked the child, eating away the last of his strength and flinging him like a limp rag doll against the side of the mountain.

"Aw, over so soon, I was just getting started!" the blonde taunted and raised his weapon over the boy's limp body, time to see what those pretty little organs look like, all shredded up!

Out of nowhere, a newcomer shoved him away from his would-be victim. He turned to glare at this intruder, the boy could wait, obviously someone else wanted to die first.

It was a blonde-haired girl holding the staff-equivalent of the keyblade, sparks of electricity crackling in her hand as she made the universal "come at me, bro!" motion.

He did indeed go after her, completely ignoring his defeated opponent, and the brown-haired boy that was now carrying him in a mad dash for the gate.

Vegas tried to cleave the small girl, but she rolled away from his attack and launched a massive bolt of electricity at him, effectively stunning him, for a moment at least. The blonde female was quick to take off after her team, hoping the disorientation would give them some time.

It took Vegas a minute to shake off the shock, but no sooner was it gone that he was after them, he wanted their blood, he wanted to hear their screams, and nothing was going to take that from him, nothing.

By the time he caught them, it was too late, they were making their escape. He watched them being loaded onto a massive glider, he couldn't have them all.

There was a dark glint in his eyes as he saw the last member of their group, the girl that had attacked him, she was too far away from the others, and she'd never make it in time.

He sprung at the girl, and watched in utter delight as he weapon sank through her chest. With a hard yank, he ripped his weapon free, tearing through her chest and skull to get his weapon back.

He heard fleeing voices, but he was distracted by the gore before him, the splay of organs, the pool of blood, the shards of bone, it was a beauty all its own. He grinned to himself, she wasn't going to be the last of his victims, he craved more blood, craved their pain. Nothing was going to quell his fun, be it human or fate.

Some moments later, his rage died down, the darkness in his heart receded. He looked down and the body before him, he realized that he was one who caused this mess. This young girl, her life cut short because of him. He let out a pained cry, he didn't want to kill. Her death would be mourned somewhere, by someone.

He picked up her remains and carried them back into camp, she deserved a proper burial, and he would give her just that. He walked right past his master. "Vegas..." his master tried to calm him, but a glare from the boy ended that. "I will bury her master, whether you give me permission or not. She may have been our enemy, but she deserves that much." he walked away, to the back of the camp where he would bury her.

"I may not know your name, or where you are from, but I am sorry for this. Your grave will be marked with your blade." he whispered to her corpse before he started to dig a grave.

Author's note: Kaizen here, I'm truly sorry if this chapter sucks. I had to basically rewrite the whole thing because the way Sun portrayed Vegas in the original version was way off how i envisioned him. Incase you didn't know, Vegas is my character. Don't worry though, Sun will be writing the next chapter.