Chapter 10
A terrible fright spread like the pox throughout the air, infecting the townspeople and festering within the shared worries of all. Burgers remained half-eaten, the infamous line at the post office all but vanished, the idle reverberation of chitchatting throughout the streets ceased. Everyone knew that the Great Darkness had returned with its insatiable appetite. It swallowed their homeworlds and now hungered for the surrogate home that allowed the refugees to cling to the Realm of Light for just a little longer.
The lights in the nighttime sky overpowered the familiar constellations, drowning out the gentle starlight with the unnatural luminosity of thousands of warship engines. But the light emitted by the gummi ships alone did not paralyze the citizens of Traverse Town. No, they feared not the tiny ships with their petty Heartless, for they knew their ever-resourceful guardian freedom fighters would protect them from such irksome pests. What halted the town once brimming and bustling with life did not take the form of a shadow or a ship or a devious villain. The people fled the streets like a panicked, wild herd in fear of what turned their tranquil sky into a chaotic inferno of unspeakable horror.
Poised above the atmosphere and aimed at the defenseless world below, the Noventa Cannon continued to amass the energy required for its ultimate attack. The charging mass of raw power focused within the barrel emitted the violent light that scorched the once brilliant midnight-blue sky into a blazing red-orange, and gave Traverse Town the first and only daylight it would ever experience.
A condemning evil befell the Realm of Light's final haven, and the wayward hearts fortunate enough to escape the darkness once before knew Lady Luck would not bless them a second time. The abandoned streets harbored no one save for the fighters vanquishing the shadows unawares of the grim situation imperiling them from above. Yet, as the end loomed nearer, they took notice of the fiery glow bathing the town in its flaming hue.
Leon shouldered his Gunblade and signaled Yuffie to his side. "Look at the sky," he ordered while craning his head towards the heavens.
"Whoa, what the heck's going on? Did Roger accidentally drop his pipe into the emergency flare kit again?"
"That's no flare." Without another word, Leon ran for the Accessory Shop with Yuffie clambering after him.
After securing shelter for everyone in the First District and doing their best to calm the masses with the assurance that the Resistance would thwart the attack, Donald and Goofy ran off to the secret garage to contact Chip and Dale for some emergency backup. Meanwhile, Aerith and Cid retreated to the shop's underground meeting room where they waited anxiously for Zack to return with Leon and Yuffie so they could formulate some sort of plan. But in reality, Cid knew there was no plan. As the clock continued to tick, time ran thin for the Resistance. Even with their leader present, no strategy he could concoct would suffice. Cid wanted Zack to retrieve Leon and Yuffie so that everyone could be together in their final moments.
So he sat there on a wooden crate, chewing on a piece of reed as he eyed the second hand round the face of the room's moogle clock. Another minute passed without word from Zack, and Cid buried his face in his hands.
"…There comes a time in every man's life when he can't hold back the pain anymore."
"Cid?" Aerith looked over at the pale man from her seat at near the coffee machine.
"When his strength's all gone," he continued, face still in his hands, "and the will that kept him going for so long runs out of steam."
"What are you saying? You're talking as if this is the end!"
Cid let out a shaky sigh as he dragged his hands down his face where he let them fall. "I'm an old man, Aerith. So old now…"
"You're only forty-six."
"I'm not in my prime anymore. I can't go around doing things like I used to." He clenched his fists in self-spiting anger. "The dam's busted now and an old engineer like me can't patch it," he said, eyes firm on the ground. "Aerith, darlin', you listen to me now… I can't say it to the lost boy whose hurting in ways I can never understand. Can't say it to him 'cause he's gone who knows where, and that's just one more screw up I have drilling me in the conscience. I can't say it to the others either 'cause I…" He trailed off and swallowed hard. "I can't even look 'em in the eyes after everything that's gone up in smokes! But…I want you to know—you, the one who's always carrying love n' hope n' a whole lot of understanding in her heart—I want you to know that I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry that I couldn't keep you kids safe like I had promised."
The last sentence came out strained as a tear streaked down Cid's face. More soon followed as tears gush passed the broken dam. All the pain, sorrow, and guilt he ever kept bottled inside himself from the moment he saw his first Heartless exploded and shook him to the core. With his heart crippled, Cid Highwind sniffled into his palms as burning tears flooded his reddening eyes.
"Cid, please!" Aerith hurried over to the older man, wrapping her comforting arms around his shoulders. "Calm down…" she soothed, but Cid showed no signs of allowing his grief to subside.
"Everything's slipped right through my fingers! I tried, didn't I? I tried to put things to right! But I can't protect anyone—can't even protect an egg in a box of pillows, that's how useless I am! The whole damn world's gone to Darkness and it's all my fault… This is Rabanastre all over again!"
"You think anyone blames you for that?" Aerith gently pulled Cid's hands away and looked him straight in the eyes. "You're a good man, Cid—a father to us all. You've saved us, protected us when no one else would." She gave her foster father a kiss on the forehead before embracing him tightly. They sat there for a while, neither saying another word. As Cid continued his silent sobs, Aerith held him while praying a silent wish for Leon to hurry back with the answer to their survival.
"Everyone in town—all the moogles, all the puppies, all the kids…" Cid sniffled and wiped the blood that trickled from his unhealed nasal wound. "All because of my folly…"
"That's enough! I've said it before and I'll say it as many times as it takes until you understand: you may have helped create that cannon, but you are not responsible for the actions of the people using it right now!"
The aged engineer would hear nothing of it. He was guilty. War and chaos created the Noventa Cannon, with blood, death, and sacrifice nurturing it throughout all its upgrades. And the one who helped give birth to such a destructive, monstrous weapon? Cid Highwind. He was guilty.
"Don't you see?" the engineer cried. "I gave it to 'em on a silver platter! Of course it's all my fault!"
"You didn't have a choice!"
"I could've killed 'em instead. Could've fired it off instead of just forkin' the damn thing over like it was candy to be shared!"
"What about Rikku? She's safe because of what you and your colleagues did, and that means that the others are still alive too."
Cid scoffed. "Pfheh… You really believe that?"
"Don't deny that you do, too!"
"Well, that's one consolation I can take with me to the other side…"
Aerith sighed and shook her head. "This isn't the end, Cid." She gave him a confident, hope-filled smile. "Leon will find a way. He always does."
Cid threw his head back and burst into wild, uncontained laughter.
"The pressure's gotten to you…"
"That's not it," Cid snickered with a shake of his head.
"Then what?"
"I just think," the weary man said while wiping away the final tear from his eye, "that since these are our final moments, you should take that boy to the side and have a good heart-to-heart with him."
"What do you mean?" Aerith asked, bewildered.
"Hey, you said I was a daddy to you all, right? Heh-heh, Daddy knows best, darlin'." Cid clutched his gut and continued laughing like a loon.
Aerith shrugged off the delusional man's nonsensical banter. But the lunacy was infectious, for within moments, she too began to chuckle. At least Cid wasn't crying anymore.
The two shared a nice moment of stress-induced laughter when the door swung open for their leader. "What's going on?" Leon demanded.
"Guys, guys! Have you seen the sky?" Yuffie shouted from behind Leon as she pushed her way in front to steal the show. "Looks like a volcano spewed lava all over the sky only to have Zeus strike it with a bunch of lightning bolts! You didn't invite the Olympians here for an impromptu meeting again, did'ya? 'Cuz if you remember the mess Poseidon made last time, Leon and I had to spend weeks draining the streets and re-irrigating the waterway! Not to mention clearing out that nasty infestation of slimy marine Heartless, yuck…"
"I'm asking the questions!" Leon roared, his nerves shot. "The whole place is a ghost town, Heartless are swarming everywhere, the sky's about ready to burn us alive—and what do I find? Two of my trusted teammates laughing up a storm underground!"
"It's not like that, Leon—" Aerith tried to explain, but the leader wouldn't hear it.
"I said quiet!" He shut her up real fast, yelling so loud that no noise dared to follow his last word. It wasn't his intention to act cruel or cold, Aerith knew, but his tone hurt her all the same. "I need answers and I need them now. All hell's breaking loose out there and if I'm going to be of any help to Sora, I need to know exactly what we're dealing with."
"Eh? Sora…?" Cid rubbed the back of his head in bewilderment. What the heck did Leon care about some new kid on the street? "You're flipping your lid off for some kid? You should be ashamed of yourself yelling at the poor girl just for that!"
"He means the Keyblade master," Yuffie explained, and in so doing, sucked the doom and gloom right out of the room.
Cid fell off his crate and landed flat on his rear. "You mean that—he's the—what?"
"You've found him?" Aerith asked, the joy returning to her voice.
"Never mind about that," Leon growled. "What's with the sky? What have you learned?"
Aerith gazed over at Cid, who stood in stark contrast to his earlier behavior. Now tall with clear eyes and a firm countenance, the engineer took Aerith's words into his heart and threw all his hope behind her beliefs. "It's the Noventa Cannon," he said in a professional tone not at all hindered by emotion. "Turns out they rigged it to Hook's ship and he's had it aimed at us for a while now."
"Oh maaan!" Yuffie cried as she stumbled over to the coffee pot and poured herself a cup of joe. "I just knew they'd be after Sora! Poor kid'll never be able to catch a break again if this is how the Order's gonna act for his first day on the job."
Leon furrowed his brows. "How much longer until it's fully charged?"
"Not much longer now," Cid replied. "But you said Sora's got the Key, yeah? Think he can pull some kind of Keyblade voodoo on their ship and blow it to smithereens before they fire?"
"I'm not sure if it works that way."
"Well he's gotta be able to do something!" Yuffie said between sips. "I mean, come on! What's one measly weapon of ultimate annihilation against a sword shaped like a key?" She took another sip, paused, and then gave a nervous laugh. "Erm…that didn't come out right…"
Leon turned for the door. "Unless you have a way to stop it, I'd better find Sora. He's the only chance we have right now." He left the room, keeping the second reason for his exit a secret. If they couldn't stop the cannon, Sora would die. Leon refused to let that happen. Kid or no, he swore to protect the Keyblade master no matter what. He would see him off that world in one piece, even at the risk of the whole town. Nothing mattered more to him than making the legend a reality, even if it were to become his final act.
After the door slammed behind their leader, Cid and the others gathered around the table. The Key had been found, and with it, a new source of hope. A chance remained—the slimmest possible chance—of averting a Noventa catastrophe. Even with all the odds stacked against them, they believed in the legend; they believed in the stories of their home from a life long past. What better last ditch effort than the legendary warrior said to hold the Key to the whole of creation in the palm of his hand?
"The question now is how do we stop those scurvy pirates from pickin' off the Keybearer before he gets the chance to kick their butts across space to the lost moon of Poosh?" Yuffie wondered as she poured herself another cup of coffee.
"Leave that to me," Cid said with a smirk. "Heh, I've got us a trump card."
Aerith furrowed her brows, annoyed by the confession. "You mean you've had a plan up your sleeve this whole time?"
"Hey, it's not like that! I can only delay the cannon fire, not stop it. Way I saw it, there was no point to prolonging the inevitable considering no force in this world or the next could save our hides."
"Except the Keyblade master."
"Well how the heck was I supposed to know he'd show up just in the nick of time?" Cid opened the refrigerator and started emptying the middle tray. He tossed a plate of custard, several cans of soda, two cups of yogurt, and a half-eaten carrot stick out over his shoulder and then yanked out the whole tray. "There's a frequency I can patch into that'll force the cannon to discharge the electrical field built up around its G-series stabilizers. By doing that, it'll force the main OS into a reboot so it can recalibrate its position to compensate for the different readings."
Yuffie took a sip from her second cup and nodded. "Yup, I didn't understand a word of that."
"All you need to know is it'll buy the kid enough time to work his magic. And what's with all the coffee? Too much caffeine always gets you nuttier than usual."
"If you haven't noticed, we're pulling an all-nighter here. Something has to keep me on my toes!"
"Just keep it to three cups, will ya? Now pipe down—I'm concentrating!" Pulling a screwdriver from his pocket, Cid kneeled his way into the fridge and unscrewed a camouflaged panel in the back. With the screw popped out, the panel dislodged itself allowing Cid access to a small compartment housing a tiny microchip wrapped in a sticky note. "I can only use this code once since the defense system's designed to adapt itself against sabotaging signals."
"Hurry, Cid!" Aerith urged, her eyes fixed on the ticking wall clock.
"I'm going as fast as I can!" With chip in hand, Cid rushed over to his transceiver and forced it open to reveal the circuitry. Placing the chip at the tip of his finger, he eased it into the circuit board where it snapped into an empty groove. He then closed the casing back up again and focused his attention on the sticky note. Several lines of code were scribbled in tiny print across the paper. Squinting his eyes, Cid matched the frequency on the radio to that scrawled on the paper. "That should do it…"
"Did it work?"
"Hold on a tick, would ya? I'm waiting for the feedback signal."
Everyone remained silent, harking their ears for any sign of fluctuation through the radio static. Seconds passed, then minutes. Finally, the sequential high-pitched squeals that would send any other trio running out of the room to shield their ears beeped through the speakers and the three Resistance fighters jumped with tears of joy and relief, relishing the shrieks that threatened to puncture their eardrums. With the system jammed and the Noventa Cannon forced into a reboot, the fate of Traverse Town rested with the Keyblade's chosen one.
Aboard the flagship of the Heartless Blockade, Captain Hook paced restless circles around his cabin quarters in wait of the attack that would wipe Traverse Town from the starscape. "Isn't that blasted cannon ready yet? What is taking so long?" The cannon should have been primed and set to explode hours ago! Or at least, that's how the captain felt every passing second. The sooner the planet exploded and blew the Keyblade master to bits along with it, the sooner he could get Maleficent's vengeful magicks far, far away from his still-flesh hand.
A knock sounded at the door and sent Hook jumping towards the ceiling where he hit his head and knocked his hat clean off his crown. "Who's pounding on me door?" the jittery captain shouted, collecting his had and rushing to open the door for one of the pirate Heartless. "What in blazes do you want? You've no business here! Hurry and fire that blasted cannon!"
The Heartless swayed its arms side-to-side, pausing every few motions to twirl the sword in its hand. It repeated the pattern of swaying and twirling a total of three times before shaking itself like a soda bottle and launching itself into the air.
Captain Hook's face went purple with fury as he interpreted the Heartless's charades. "What do you mean the cannon's been stalled?" he shouted.
Landing back on its feet, the Heartless shrugged and bobbled its head.
"Well get back in there and fix it!"
The Heartless tapped its feet two times and shook its head.
"You scurvy Heartless! Can't you make the computer go faster?"
The Heartless shook its head.
"Then do everything you can to make sure this doesn't happen again!"
With a twirl of its sword, the Heartless shuffled back towards the command post.
"And make sure it fires this time!" the captain added with an angry shake of his hook. He then slammed his door shut and kicked the nearby barrel of rum stored in the corner, stubbing his toe in the process. After hopping around in pain for a good minute, he ventured towards the window to gaze out at the world encircled by his fleet. "Blast that boy! He has the Devil's luck, but it'll run out soon. Oh, it will. He can't escape me fury forever!"
Axel heard a faint prayer in his head. It resonated in the back of his mind, almost as if fluttering through into his inner ear like a whisper. What the prayer said, he could not say for certain. But he knew it to be a cry from his healing heart—a desperate cry for survival. In their fragmented state, the few shards that composed Axel's heart prayed to his inner most instincts to disengage. On instinct, Axel would have run—he would have run far, far away and never stopped running until all threat of annihilation subsided. On instinct, Axel would not have cared about anyone other than himself—self-preservation alone mattered most. On instinct, he would have killed any hostiles, including the Resistance and the King's fools, in order to guarantee a smooth, unhindered escape from the locals.
But the prayer chanting its spell from deep within his healing light pleaded no. No more selfishness. The time for promoting his self-interest ended, and Axel followed Zack out the door of the Resistance's secret base to help avert the crisis.
Yet a whisper is vulnerable to louder forms of persuasion. Festering somewhere within Axel's shadow, an evil presence chanted its own desires, and the longer it went unchecked, the stronger its influence grew.
Do it.
"You say something?" Axel asked as he and Zack walked passed doors leading into the Second District.
"No, but I was about to." Zack stopped walking and waited for the double doors to close before speaking again. "Do you know what a Watcher Heartless is?"
"Haven't heard that name before, no," Axel replied with a shake of his head.
"They lurk in the shadows and carefully watch their surroundings."
"That's it?"
"That's it, unless provoked. Taking down a Watcher alerts any superior Heartless in the area that there are warriors nearby, prompting them to attack."
"So why tell me all this?"
"I sensed a Watcher outside our base. It's likely one of Hook's flunkies released it."
Axel crossed his arms. "You think he knows the Resistance is here?"
"No one's attacked us specifically yet; the fleet's aiming at the world in its entirety. For all Hook knows, we're just having one heck of a party in that house, and everyone's coming and going with various party goods." Zack paused and then added, "I'd like to keep it that way."
"You don't want me to attack it, huh?"
"Listen, Axel," Zack said, again donning the commanding tone that gave proof of his status as an experienced soldier. "No one knows where the Resistance is based. It'll remain that way unless a Watcher is attacked—then they'll know capable warriors are here and that'll give them more reason to shoot us."
"All right." Though he didn't care much about the Resistance, Axel wanted to avoid adding further complications to the situation. He wasn't in any hurry to get himself blown to bits.
"Good." Zack paused again, this time to relax his posture back into its casual groove. "One more thing…"
"What is it now? Don't we have a cannon to stop?"
"I want you to know something, Axel. I really do believe you."
"You shouldn't be so trusting."
"I can tell when people are lying to me," Zack insisted. "If I couldn't, I wouldn't be alive right now." The way he said it, Axel almost believed him. Almost. But not even the best-trained psychologist in all the worlds could determine a lie from the truth just by looking a guy in the eyes.
"And what if you're dealing with a master pretender, Mr. Human-Lie-Detector? What then?"
Zack shook his head. "I can tell when you're lying, Axel," he reaffirmed, convinced of what Axel deemed a crazed, self-delusion. "That's why I knew you weren't responsible for the cannon."
Axel didn't believe the sap for a second. He wanted to laugh in the guy's face and then run off to find Sora. But then Zack said something else—something that made him wonder.
"That's also why I never bought your island-getaway story. I was right the first time, wasn't I? You wanted to beat the Heartless to Destiny Islands—you wanted to shield someone from their attack."
Axel scoffed. "Oh, please."
"You wanted to find someone before they did, but you were too late. That's why you didn't protest coming here to Traverse Town, knowing it's the world where all wayward hearts come to escape the darkness. You came here in search of someone very important, and now I know who that someone is."
He knows. Do it.
Axel eyed Zack, his mind furiously shifting through numerous counterattack strategies. "What now?" he wondered. How would he act, what would he do? Kill Zack? Make a run for it? Cough up the truth? First the duck, then the cannon, and now the soldier: the setbacks kept piling up for Axel, and for the first time, he doubted he could escape town with the Keyblade unnoticed. His plans crumbled.
"Why didn't you tell me, Axel?" Zack asked, the disappointment clear in his voice. "Don't you trust me?"
Axel clenched his jaw and took to leaning against a nearby building. "It's not that simple."
"He's the Keyblade master, for goodness sake! You know how desperate we've been to find him!"
"Hey, you're the lie detector, right? Take my word for it: it's not that simple."
"I…believe you…" Zack let out a sigh and massaged his forehead. "Where is he now?"
"I'd like to say the First, but with all this cannon-Heartless-pirates hoopla going on, I'll bet anything he's smack in the center of it by now."
"That why you followed me out?"
"Heh." Axel pushed from the building and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "You need the Keyblade to stop Hook, and wherever the Keyblade master goes, I go. Get it?"
"To guard him?"
Axel started walking again. "What do you think?" He brushed past Zack, venturing further into the Second District until he reached the corner leading towards the plaza. He stopped, freezing in place with his eyes wide.
He knows too much. Kill him.
"What is it?" Zack asked, jogging up behind him. "Is something wrong?" When Axel wouldn't answer, he tried to peer over the man's shoulder to get a better view. But the second he got too close, Axel shoved him away. "Hey, what are you—"
With lightning reflexes, Axel spun on his heel and slapped his hand over Zack's mouth. "Shut up!" he hissed. Before Zack could utter a sound, Axel grabbed him and forced him up against the wall. They stared at each other in the eyes, Axel putting those lie detecting abilities to the test. "We need to climb to the roof," he whispered, praying Zack would get the message and play follower without another word.
Zack furrowed his brows as he searched Axel's eyes, and then gave a swift nod before turning around and tiptoeing back the way he came.
Do it. His back is to you. Do it now.
Sweat glistened from Axel's forehead as he watched Zack leave. Something was draining him of his energy, but he couldn't pinpoint the cause. With no time to spare, he pushed everything out of his mind except one goal—and to achieve it, he had to get to the roof. He followed Zack, and together, the two backtracked to the doors leading to the Second. They found a groove within a nearby brick wall and used it as the first stepping-stone. Jumping from groove, to window, and then onto a nearby ledge, they reached their destination with little trouble.
Once on the roof of the Dress & Suit shop, Axel signaled Zack to get down on his belly and crawl towards the edge to overlook the plaza. The two wormed their way across the roof shingles until Zack finally understood the reason for Axel's discretion. Just below the two onlookers, Sora was engaged in a heated battle against first mate Smee and his ragtag team of Heartless buccaneers. Cutlasses went flying in every direction, trying to keep up with the agile Keybearer as he dodged, jumped, and rolled away from the mob of pirates. Where the swords failed, the anchor more than compensated. Laser bullets shot out of the barrel attached to the far end of the crown, and when Sora went into a mad dance to dodge them, Smee used the opportunity to swing his weapon round and launch it with impeccable momentum. Sora barely managed to escape unscathed from the jagged spikes jutting out of the anchor, and large tears cut all across his clothes.
The last incision made into Sora's jacket was too close for comfort. It was all Zack could endure. He clenched his fist and prepared to spring off the roof, but Axel beat him to the punch. With a snap of his fingers, Axel summoned an aura of vibrant, red flames to envelope his arm. In one fluid motion, he channeled all his energy into his arm and whisked it through the air, launching the fire smack into the fray. An enormous, scorching firestorm erupted in the middle of the plaza, forcing a fire wall divide between the Keyblade master and his shadowy opponents.
"What the…?" Sora knitted his brows in confusion. But before he could better inspect the inferno, a hand tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped and jerked around in full defense.
"Whoa, take it easy," Axel said, he hands up in mock surrender.
"Axel, it's you!"
"Yeah, yeah. Howdy-doo to you, too. Listen, no time for chitchat. We've gotta run."
"What?"
"Run!" Axel grabbed Sora's hand and yanked the befuddled Keybearer away towards the First District.
"What are you doing?" Zack exclaimed, jumping down to cut off Axel's path. "We should finish this!"
"If you want to stop that cannon from blowing this place to smithereens, we need to do this the smart way." Axel gave Sora another yank before he could question anything, and used his free hand to grab hold of Zack. "Come on!" he shouted, wanting to get out while the fire still shielded them from Smee.
The three warriors ran for the doors leading into the First District while the Heartless furiously whacked away at the flames in a sad attempt to extinguish them with their swords. When the fire died down and the smoke cleared, the Keyblade master was nowhere in sight. Smee chucked his anchor into the ground as steam blew out his ears. "Find him, boys!" he ordered in a fury. "He can't get away!" The Heartless bowed and staggered off to once again scour the Second District.
Meanwhile, just behind the large, double doors connecting the First and Second Districts, Sora glared with confused, defiant eyes at the man who helped him battle a colossal Heartless in the past. "Why did you do that, Axel?" he demanded. "I almost had them beat!"
"We've got bigger fish to fry than a pot-bellied first mate," Axel replied. "This whole world's about to bite the big one, and the fat man's been sent to distract you from the real bad boy."
Sora raised his eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"
"See that pretty red sky up there? It's not supposed to be all lit up like a festival at 12AM in the morning—or ever in this place since it's always night in Traverse Town."
"Meaning…?"
"It's the result of a doomsday weapon aimed directly at this world, and it'll blow everyone and everything to teeny-tiny bits in the blink of an eye unless we figure out how to stop it right now."
"Are you serious?" Sora all but shouted, his eyes growing wide enough to sting from increased exposure the cool air.
"Dead serious. Just ask the soldier boy over there," Axel said with a thumb-jerk in Zack's direction.
Zack, who had remained dead quiet since entering the First, stared at Sora for the longest time. Tears started welling up in his eyes the longer he looked, and the whole situation made Sora rather uneasy.
"Umm…who is this guy?" Sora asked.
"He's—"
"It's you!" Zack interjected with such cheer in his voice that it was enough to make anyone forget the impending doom facing the world. "It's really you!" Before Sora could react, Zack rushed up to him and gave the kid a big bear hug. "Ha, ha! You're the Keyblade master!" he cried with joy. "My name's Zack Fair, and let me just say, it's an honor to meet you!"
"Nice to meet you, too," Sora replied with a nervous chuckle. "I'm Sora."
"Sora, we've been waiting for you a long time. The Resistance needs your help."
"Resistance…? Oh! Are you friends with Leon?"
Zack's smile stretched three times wider across his face. "Wow! You're good! You're better than good! Just…wow!"
"Huh?"
"Look at you!" Zack reached out and clapped Sora's cheeks. "Just look at you! You haven't been here for more than a few hours and you're already getting down to business—meeting with our leader, ridding the streets of Heartless, taking on the Order! You're every bit the legend I thought you'd be!"
Sora rubbed the back of his head and gave a sheepish smile. "I'm not really a legend…"
"Don't be so modest!"
Kill them both. They're both in the way of what you really want. Do it.
Axel clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. "Okay, okay! Enough! Remember the Noventa Cannon? It's still aimed to fry us all, and your happy-go-lucky outbursts aren't getting us any closer to a solution."
"Oh, right!" Zack stood at attention and saluted the Keybearer. "Sir, forgive my excitement. We have an emergency situation—one that begs for your aid and assistance." He gave a quick overview of the town's plight and the destructive capabilities of the Noventa Cannon, to which Sora listened with increasing worry.
"How am I supposed to stop something like that…?" he wondered. It was one thing taking on a giant Heartless—that fight didn't restrict him to a time limit and the opponent didn't launch its attacks from a guarded position in outer space.
"It's a tough nut to crack, but where there's a will, there's a way. Plus it doesn't hurt having the Keyblade on our side." Zack gave Sora another broad smile, which made him feel a bit more confident knowing that he had another ally to help against the Heartless.
"Does Leon know about this? He didn't mention it to me…"
Zack shook his head. "We have to find and tell him."
"He should be somewhere around here," Sora said, looking around to see if he could spot the man. "We split up before, and he said he'd come back to protect this district."
"If that's the case, he's probably near the shop!" Zack signaled his two friends to follow him as he raced for the Accessory shop, but they didn't need to go far before their target found them.
"It's you." Leon slowed his pace as he approached the trio. "Listen, there's been an incident. This world isn't safe for you."
"I know," Sora replied. "Zack and Axel told me."
"You know about the cannon?"
Sora nodded.
"Does the Keyblade possess a power to disable it from here?"
"Err…I don't think so."
Leon closed his eyes and folded his arms, once again transporting himself into the whirlwind of worries devastating his heart. "Then it's worse than I feared."
"Hey now, don't say that!" Zack gave Leon a light punch to the shoulder to snap him out of his pessimism. "He's only just learned about it, Leon. Give him some time to actually try."
"Time?" Leon opened his eyes to leer at his comrade. "Time? We don't have time, Zack! The whole world's set to blow in a handful of minutes and we don't even know what the Keyblade's capable of!"
"No time like the present to find out," Zack countered.
"Our time's better spent in figuring out a way off this world!"
"No…not again. We can't just leave these innocent people to die. Not again!"
"You think I don't feel the same way? But we don't have a choice. We need to survive. Sora and the Resistance are necessary if we ever want this war to end."
They continued arguing back and forth—one fighter promoting hope and optimism, while the other declared the battle lost and advised a quick retreat. All the while, Sora looked on with a heavy heart, feeling helpless to do anything. Everyone expected so much of him. Because he wielded the Keyblade, the Resistance made him out to be a type of legendary hero—even a god. But he was just a kid—a kid that lost his homeworld and friends, and didn't know what to do with the powers given to him. All the responsibilities that came with the Keyblade—he wondered, how to fulfill them, or even if he could.
Yet through all the fears and doubts, through all the mayhem and danger, he knew one thing for sure: someone had to stop the Heartless. Someone had to protect the people. He thought back to everyone he met in Traverse Town—kind Mr. Cid with his crumbly cookies; those persistent little ducks with their assortment of a odd goods; gruff and tough Leon with his quirky ninja friend Yuffie, the First District's valiant protectors; all the playful puppies filled with such warmth; Anita, who clung onto the myths of a hero while worrying for her husband's safety; gung-ho Zack who burst at the seams with childlike happiness; and Axel who fought towering, ferocious monsters with a relentless, fiery passion.
All the people he met upon his arrival to Traverse Town were in danger. If not from the cannon, then from the darkness. He wanted to protect those people—he wanted to fight for them so they wouldn't have to live in fear anymore. The Keyblade chose him as protector of the light, and he chose to accept that fate.
"There has to be another way," Sora protested, now joining the argument.
"There isn't," Leon stated.
"Leon, I'm not leaving this world to die!"
"You have to."
"No."
Throughout the entire argument, Axel didn't hear a single word. No one even noticed that he had yet to participate in the debate; they were all too caught up in making their own points to notice Axel, who stood far apart from the ring of three fighters holding his throbbing head. In his ears he heard nothing of the world's fate or the Keyblade master's inexperience to tackle such an impossible situation. Only two words echoed in his mind: Do it.
Darkness everywhere. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but darkness. Axel stood alone amidst it, all his senses numb save for his hearing. A voice called out to him, tempting him from the infinite expanse of shadows.
Do it.
"No…"
Do it.
"No!" Axel clutched at his head, fighting the voice with all his might. But nothing he did lessened the power each word held over him.
Do it. Kill him. You must kill him to get what you want.
"I'm not killing my best friend!" Flames exploded from Axel's body, chasing the darkness away with its light. He heaved labored breaths as sweat trickled down his forehead only to evaporate into steam from the extreme heat. It took every ounce of strength in him to repel the beckoning voice of the tempter, and it worked until a new sound replaced the voice.
A series of footsteps sounded nearby, followed by the clanking of armor. The familiar frame of the Messenger marched into the light, his black and silver armor tinted by the crackling, red flames.
"Heh…" Axel panted with a weary, self-spiting smirk. "I should've known."
"I am the Messenger," the armored man announced as he drew still closer.
"I know who you are! What do you want?"
"I bring a message." The Messenger stopped before Axel and angled his body to the side. Extending his long, muscular arm, he pointed his finger into the darkness. "This is a message…from your past."
Axel scoffed. "Don't tell me it's 50-foot tall Xemnas complete with prehistoric caveman accessories."
The Messenger didn't answer or flinch, but maintained his position.
There was a pause then, as if time froze to allow Axel a prolonged period of inner peace before a malevolent storm thundered in to shake his world and destroy everything his budding heart strived to achieve. He turned his head to humor the Messenger, thinking that no matter what the armored zombie threw at him next, it would pale in comparison to the last ordeal. The second his eyes looked towards the darkness, the tempting voice boomed again in his ears.
Do it. Kill Sora.
"I told you: there's no way I'm killing my best friend!"
"But, Axel…" said a new voice that called out from the shadows. Another set of footsteps tapped closer to the light and Axel's eyes went wide with shock and anger. "I thought I was your best friend."
"What kind of game are you playing at?" Axel's nostril flared up in a snarl as he turned to look back at the Messenger. But the man had long vanished after delivering his message, leaving Axel alone with a phantom born from the shadows in his heart. "Always gets going with the going gets tough. Pfft!" More beads of sweat rolled down his neck as he turned his enflamed body to fully face the new arrival. "You're not real," he stated flat out, not in the mood to play the Messenger's games.
"Of course you'd say that—you, the guy who gave up fighting to free me. It must be so easy denying that I exist when you're running around pretending to be a Somebody."
Axel rolled his eyes. "If you want to pull off a decent guilt trip, at least get the facts straight: whether you're real or not doesn't matter. Standing there telling me I'm denying your existence is a dead giveaway on its own."
"Nobodies don't exist."
"Bingo."
"But I do." He took another step towards Axel, the silver zipper along his black cloak jiggling with the sudden motion. "I have a heart—you know that. I'm the exception to the rule."
Something in that place burned more of Axel's energy than necessary to maintain the fire. It was as though an invisible presence forced its hand down in an effort to crush him into the darkness. The more the pressure he felt against him, the more strength Axel consumed to keep himself standing, yet alone protected. "You're not Roxas," he said, heaving deep breaths as he fought to fuel his fiery shield.
"How can you be so sure?" the phantom boy asked, taking another step closer for the fire to better illuminate his face. With eyes as blue as the ocean and golden hair combed into a spiky swirl, everything down to the last detail matched the image Axel held of Roxas in his heart. He couldn't stand to look at him.
Axel turned his head to the side to stare back into the infinite black, back into the darkness—to look anywhere but at that face. "You can't be. Sora's still alive."
"You really believe he and I are the same person?"
"I was stupid for ever thinking otherwise," Axel uttered, his voice dejected and weighed by regret.
"Axel, you really are stupid," the phantom chortled. He circled around Axel like a predator stalking its prey.
"Oh, looky here! A figment of my imagination's trying to get under my skin. It won't work." He would've spat at the phantom, but his mouth was too dry. The pressure in that place continued to pound down relentlessly all around him, and he wondered how much longer he could keep conscious. Spreading apart his legs, Axel tried repositioning himself to better fight against the increasing weight pressing into every inch of his body, but the gesture did little to comfort him. His head started to ache and his vision melted into a blur, but he could still see Roxas. Each time the phantom completed another lap around, Axel saw his face as clear as day. It was Roxas, no doubt about it—and that meant trouble, because even a phony impersonation could hold the same influence as the genuine article in that place. In the darkness where the only light visible flickered from Axel's shattered heart, nothing could protect the ailing man from the shadows of his past.
"You don't really believe we're the same person," the phantom continued. "It's a lie you tell yourself so that when you look back on your death, it's comforting to think you didn't fail to save me."
"I didn't fail. I saved Sora."
"That's right. Sora. You saved Sora—not me, but him."
"You're the same!" Axel shouted in frustration. He wanted the voice to stop, to shut up!
"Then why do you refer to us by two different names?"
Axel was panting heavier now. No matter how much air he sucked in—even to the point of hurting his lungs—it failed to sustain him. Disoriented and weak, he was left vulnerable to the phantom's verbal abuses.
"We always used to watch the sunset together while eating sea salt ice cream. We'd laugh while telling stories or jokes, and we'd have a great time. You said we were best friends."
"We are."
"But then you let DiZ capture me."
"That's a lie!"
"You let him trap me in the digital town, and did nothing while I was forced back into Sora."
"You wanted to find Sora!" Axel rasped, collapsing to one knee. "You wanted answers and the Organization couldn't give them to you—I couldn't give them to you. I let you leave that day…because you wanted to." A tear dropped from his eye and burst into steam. "…I let you go even though it hurt to see you leave."
"Nothing could hurt you—you don't have a heart."
"I do have a heart!"
"What you have is a tiny, insignificant piece of a dead, broken memory. You're a Nobody, Axel, and you felt nothing for me while I was imprisoned within a body that's rightfully mine."
"I stuck my neck out for you. They were going to kill you. They wanted to kill me, too. But I…" Axel shut his eyes real tight, his fiery aura waning in strength. He shook his head with gritted teeth. "Nothing mattered to me anymore. I wanted…to turn Sora into a Heartless, but I—"
"But you didn't."
"No, I—"
"You left me to rot in there—to sleep the eternal sleep while you went and sacrificed yourself for him."
"I sacrificed myself for you! You're the same person!"
"You don't really believe that." The phantom broke his circular pattern. "Look at me, Axel," he said, now standing right in front of Axel.
"No."
"Look at me."
"Get away from me, you fake."
"Look at me." A black, leather gloved hand grabbed Axel's chin and forced his head up to face the phantom. "What's my name?"
"You don't have one," Axel growled, his weakened voice almost a whisper.
"Who am I?"
"An illusion."
"Who am I, Axel?" the phantom persisted, tightening his grip. "Which name do you associate with this face?"
"Get out of here or I'll…" Axel made to stand, but his other knee buckled.
"Or you'll what?" The phantom watched with amusement as Axel feebly fumbled about trying to regain his balance. But the more he struggled, the more energy he wasted and the already dying flames continued to fade. "You're pathetic, Axel. You can't even hold your ground in the darkness anymore. No wonder you let me die—you were too much of an invalid to do anything about it."
"I didn't let you die!"
"Who am I?"
"A pesky brat!"
The phantom kicked Axel flat on his back and pressed his boot hard against his chest, further increasing his rate of suffocation. "Say my name and this ends."
The faint sparks of ember still radiating from Axel turned blue. His flame was dying. Even the phantom's face blurred into the muddied mesh of an image splattered across his field of vision.
"Who am I, Axel?"
He couldn't take it anymore—not the pressure, the pain, the suffocation, the darkness. It had to stop. It all had to stop! "R…Roxas…"
"What's that?" the phantom said, cupping his ear and leaning closer as if he didn't hear the answer. "Say it again."
"Y-you're…you're Roxas…" Axel sputtered with what little breath remained.
With a sinister grin, the phantom lifted his boot. "Who's your best friend?"
"You are…Roxas."
"Who took me away from you?"
"…Sora."
"And how do you fix everything?"
Axel lay flat on his back, his glazed, dilated eyes fixed towards the infinite black sky. He could barely breathe, even with the boot gone, and his body ached in places he never deemed possible. Whatever prayer chanted within his head upon the advent of his journey ceased guiding his steps, leaving nothing but a foreboding silence that welcomed the voice of the tempter.
"Kill Sora."
The last flicker of flame protecting Axel with its light extinguished, and the darkness swallowed him whole.
"There has to be another way!"
"There isn't."
Axel opened his eyes and found himself massaging his temple. It took him a while to blink away the haziness, and when he did, it took still more time to get his bearings straight. The past few minutes were a blur, and try as he may, he couldn't remember why the others were pecking each other raw. But it didn't take him long to get a grip on the situation.
"Don't you understand what's going on here?" Leon said, his face rigid and stern. "You're the only one in the whole universe with the means to stop the Heartless. If you stay here, the cannon will destroy you and that'll be the end of everyone's hope. Everyone's future will end because the Keyblade master will be no more."
"These peoples' future will end if I abandon them right now," Sora contended. "You said it yourself: I'm the Keyblade master. It's my job to protect people from the Heartless, and right now, Heartless forces are aiming to blow this town to bits unless I can do something about it."
"What do you intend to do?"
"I…don't know yet."
"Oh? And when exactly will you know? We're on a time limit here."
Sora furrowed his brows without a reply.
"No answer? Then that settles it. We're going." Leon turned around, signaling the others to follow him.
But Sora didn't budge. "…No."
Leon spun back around, setting his infuriated eyes on the defiant kid. "Then we'll do it the hard way again!" he roared, unsheathing his Gunblade and charging towards the Keyblade master.
On reflex, Sora summoned the Keyblade and held it up to parry the oncoming strike. But it never came. The clanking of metal on metal echoed out, but Sora didn't feel the recoil. He lowered his weapon and opened his confused eyes to see Axel standing before him with his chakrams holding off the Gunblade.
"Don't you touch him." Axel stared Leon dead in the eyes, freezing the man in place with a glare that rivaled his own.
Leon retracted his Gunblade. "Do you want to die here?"
"Do you?" Axel retorted with a twirl of his chakrams. He meant business, and Leon hesitated to act for fear of starting a fight that would last until the cannon's discharge. The two warriors stared each other down while Zack watched from the sidelines without a definite solution to calm the atmosphere and get Leon to agree to a new tactic.
"Axel, please…!" Sora begged from behind the warrior.
Axel craned his neck towards Sora. Looking into the kid's eyes, a strange emotion washed over him—one that sickened him. He never experienced such a thing in the past, but he lacked the time to ponder over it.
"You've helped me defeat that huge Heartless—a monster so big, it seemed impossible to beat," Sora continued. "I can't just abandon these people, and I know if we put our heads together again, we'll be able to take on the cannon."
Eyes averted to the ground, Axel took in a deep breath and exhaled. He needed a plan, and fast, or else things were going to get messy. So he took a moment to think—to review over the whole situation, and as he did so, all the pieces started falling into place. "So let me get this straight… We have three priorities: the first is to stop the cannon from destroying this place, the second is to get the cannon far away from here, and the third is to keep you Resistance guys off the radar. Am I right?"
"That about sums it up, yeah," Zack nodded.
"Okay." Axel put away his chakrams. He had an idea. "Listen to me very carefully," he said, meeting everyone's gaze. "If you want those three things to happen, you need to do precisely as I say. Understand?" He again looked Sora dead in the eyes and resisted the reflex to cringe by overpowering it with the will to survive. "You have to do everything I say without question."
"I trust you, Axel," Sora said, making the man even sicker to his stomach.
Axel nodded and turned to Leon. "What about you?"
"You have a plan?" the Resistance leader asked, shouldering his Gunblade.
"Only if you'll listen."
"Make it quick."
"We trick Hook. He came here looking for the Keyblade master, and he'll leave if he thinks he's chasing the kid offworld."
"How?"
"Fake Sora's escape. Have it look like he's flying out, and the armada follows."
"The Heartless will shoot any ship that exits the atmosphere."
"You Resistance guys have a bunch of spare ships, right? Use them to lure the Heartless away from the main decoy ship."
Leon holstered his Gunblade and crossed his arms in contemplation. "That…might work… But it's missing something. There's nothing preventing Hook from destroying the town before chasing the dummy."
"I've got that worked out, too. But I'll need to talk to Cid."
"Fine. Let's go." Leon gave the signal, and everyone rushed for the underground meeting room.
"Don't do that!" Yuffie exclaimed as the door shot open and banged against the wall to allow the four new arrivals entry. But no one paid her any mind, and Leon just brushed right past her.
"Cid, we need to talk," the leader ordered. "Now."
Everyone gathered together while Axel repeated his strategy, this time in further detail. "The only way this is going to work is if we use that warp gummi in Zack's ship," he explained. "If we set it to launch just after Hook picks it up on radar, he'll have no choice but to drop everything or else risk losing its signal."
Cid resisted the urge to flick his injured nose while he mulled over the idea. "It'd work in theory, but if he could follow the kid from his island to here by tracking his Keyblade signature, I'm worried he'll see through our act."
"That's why we need to give these guys a good scare—so they'll neglect their instruments."
"How the heck do you plan on pulling that off?"
"A mock fight."
Leon furrowed his brows. "Against whom?"
"Sora versus me, one-on-one right in front of Smee. I'll pretend to be one of Maleficent's undercover agents, and when Sora makes a run for 'his ship', I'll march straight up to the Watcher in the Third and give Hook such a scare that he'll go running to sleep with the crocodiles tonight. They haven't seen my face and they don't know my style. I know how these people tick—where to apply pressure to get the best results—and if I play my cards right, it should go off without a hitch."
"You want us to fight?" Sora asked.
Axel nodded. "I'm acting as the clean-up crew. If we can convince them that Maleficent isn't pleased with their performance, and that it's because of their incompetence that you've escaped, Hook wouldn't dare waste time firing the cannon. He'll drop everything and chase the warp-equipped ship for the sake of his remaining limbs."
"You really think they'll fall for it?"
"The guy's willing to blow up an entire world just to make sure he gets you, meaning the witch is already steamed with his failure at the Outer Rim. Make him think she's even angrier, and he won't stop to think twice about it."
"Hmm…" Sora turned his gaze towards the Resistance members. "What do you think, guys? I see no problems with it."
"I do," said Cid, spitting the reed from his mouth. "If we can't throw this plan together within the next twenty minutes, Noventa'll enter the final charge stage and it won't disengage until it's fired."
"Then we have to hurry!" Yuffie cried. "Come on, come on! Get those ships! Start fighting! Move it!"
But of course, no one moved to do anything. All eyes fell on Leon, who had the final say in the matter.
"Well, Leon?" Aerith asked. "What do you think?"
Their leader leaned against the wall as per his usual fashion, with his arms crossed and his face twisted with worried contemplation. It was a long shot, he had to admit, but it was a plan nonetheless. It gave them all hope—gave him hope, even if he didn't want to admit it out loud. So he pushed off the wall and gave the nod to start the process, because no other option remained save for total annihilation.
Cid clapped his hands together. "Okay, kids—time to put it in motion! Yuffie, Leon—I'll need you two in the garage. Bust a move and get on over there!"
"Aye, aye, Cid!" Yuffie gave a salute and spun herself out the door while Leon wordlessly tagged behind her.
"Hey," Axel called before Cid could follow them, "you got any spare clothes I can rummage through?"
"What for? This is a fight, not a fashion show! We don't have time for you to be playing dress-up. Now quit yer yappin' and get out there!"
"This isn't for the catwalk, Cid. If you want a proper decoy, I need to look the part or else roly-poly cabin boy out there won't fall for it even if he tossed on a couple of eye patches. Now do you have any dark, depressing duds or not?"
"Well, I don't, but…" Cid rubbed the back of his head and shifted his eyes towards Aerith.
There was a long pause where Aerith took in a deep breath and held it for a while before slowly releasing it. "Come this way, Axel," she said, brushing past him towards the exit.
Zack started after her, his forehead wrinkled with concern. "Hey, you don't mean…?" He turned and ran upstairs. "Wait for me!" All the while Axel watched with eyebrows raised.
"What should I be doing?" Sora asked before Axel could leave. There was an awkward pause where Axel's eye twitched for but a second and his face went rigid. They were alone in the room since Cid ran off for the garage as soon as Zack cleared the passageway, and the freedom from watchful eyes begged temptation to act. "Is something wrong?"
Axel curled his hands into tight fists. "No…" he uttered, his tone bordering on emotionless. "Just…stay here and wait. You'll know when it's time."
"Are you worried? You don't seem as…energetic anymore—like you used to be."
"I don't know." He stared at his fists, gauging the invisible weight they each held. They wanted to smack against flesh, he knew. The desire to swing them pulsed through his veins, and he continued staring at them with diminishing self-control.
Axel's abnormal behavior worried the Keybearer. He moved to touch his friend on the shoulder, but he flinched away the second he saw the hand. "You're really on edge! Don't worry so much, Axel. We'll get through this. With everyone's help and the two of us teaming up like before, everything will work out just fine. You'll see."
"I just don't know." Axel closed his eyes, pocketing his fists before they could do any damage and started for the stairs. The door closed softly behind him, leaving Sora all alone to fret over his troubled friend.
Excerpt from the reflective log of a man facing death:
Tell me I'm broken. Go on; say it! If we're going to talk about the race to save Traverse Town—about the battle that ensued—then I know you won't just leave it at the outcome. You're here to make a point, so make it.
They've all said it to me—some multiple times. I'm a broken man. I'm the walking dead. I'm an anomaly in need of immediate deletion. I'm a hazard to all those around me. I'm the lingering sickness from a world long-gone. Darkness fills in the cracks meant for the light, and that's why I'm unworthy to be anywhere near him—unworthy and dangerous.
I've heard it all.
So go on and say it. Tell me I'm broken. Say those words!