KH III: Beyond the Kingdom Volume One

by ghostfox12

Heartless, Nobodies, and a new evil threatens the universe. Can a new keyblader, with the help of Bonkers and Miranda, bring order back to the universe?

35. Of Sinners and Redeemers

Author's Notes: I've finally updated! Hooray! Sorry it took me so long guys… Life got in the way and everything…

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, storylines, or concepts mention in the story, just the OCs.

Chapter 34: Of Sinners and Redeemers

Back on the Heart of Gold, Trevor and his friends were busying typing away on the computer console looking for the possible worlds that their new guest might have came from. Canard stood off the side with his arms folded, waiting for some good news.

"…And here are the search results…," Miranda said after Eddie finished crunching all of the data.

The computer hummed pleasantly as the AI read off the results. "The names of the worlds that have sentient ducks are: Lake Hoohaw, Acme Acres, Los Angeles, Ducktown, US Acres, Nowhere, United Animals Federation, Earth C, Banana Cabana, Petropolis, and lastly Cleveland!"

The duck sighed and shook his head. "None of them were Puckworld."

"I'm sorry, but we tried," Miranda tried to comfort him.

"It still feels like a dream," Canard said as he looked at his hands. "I have been trapped in dimensional limbo for so long. And from the date you gave me awhile ago, I have been trapped for over ten years! I can't help but wonder if everything I knew and love still even exists…"

The keyblader, however, was scratching his head in deep thought. "You were stuck in dimensional limbo, right Canard? Dimensional Limbo is the space in between dimensions. One possible explanation is that Puckworld is in another dimension all together. That means we can't travel to it through ordinary means…"

"Worlds, dimensions… What's the difference?" Bonkers shrugged. "Aren't they are two words meaning the same thing?"

Trevor looked at the bobcat the same way a college professor looks at a country bumpkin. "No, they are not the same! Okay, basically all you need to remember is this: the universe is like a three-dimensional coordinate plane… with an X-axis, Y-axis, and a Z-axis."

"Oh god, here we go," Miranda lamented as she rubbed her temples.

"The X-axis represents time," Trevor continued unfazed, "The Y-axis represents space, and lastly the Z-axis represents probability. Now, the coordinates 0,0,0 (aka the origin point) denotes the present, the world that we are currently on, and what dimension we are in. If we move positively on the X-axis we travel forward in time; negatively, backwards in time. Move along in any direction on the Y-axis and you will arrive at a new world: Rustic Backwoods, The Downtown Beat, The Big Apple and so on. However, when you move along the Z-axis you travel to a different dimension. The Big Apple of dimension three could be radically different than the one in our dimension; it might even be called something else all together!

"So basically, Canard's Puckworld could very well exist, but is on a different point along the Z-axis than we are. Pretty cool, right?"

"You could have just said that dimensions and worlds are two different concepts and we would have just accepted it," the blonde deadpanned.

While the conversation was interesting to Canard, the duck had other things on his mind. "Could you search for worlds that are cover in ice?"

The blonde cop complied and punched in the data. Only one world popped up: Hoth.

Canard sighed again. "I guess we will have to keep on looking… Perhaps a game of hockey will clear our heads. Where's the hockey rink on this huge ship."

Trevor, Miranda, and Bonkers looked at each other quite baffled. "There is no hockey rink on this ship," the keyblader answered. "We don't even know how to play hockey."

"What?!" the duck jumped back in complete shock. One would think that he was told something terrible. "What civilized creature doesn't know how to play hockey?!"

"Attention gang!" Eddie whirled to life, startling everybody in the room. "But we have arrived to a new world!" The group looked at the screen and saw a city-covered world in the glow of an unseen twilight sun. Even though it was sunset on this world many of the buildings had their lights turned on resembling fireflies in the fading light. The Eiffel Tower was in full view reaching well above the other buildings. "Say hello to the City of Lights!" the computer program exclaimed. "There are a lot of famous restaurants on this world, so be sure to check one out, that is, if you can stand to wait for several hours just to get served."

"We have arrived on a new world already…," Trevor rubbed his chin. "We have to put searching for your world on hold, Canard. Right now me and the others have to investigate this world."

"Fine," Canard nodded. "But I'll stay here and use…Eddie to search for my world."

"That's fine," Miranda said. "Hopefully we will be back shortly. If things all go well, we will be back in a day or so."

"Eddie, sent us to the world," the keyblader said and the three travelers dematerialized right in front of Canard.

Canard began typing away at the keyboard only to stop and say, "…How can anyone not know how to play hockey?"

KH-KH-KH

To say that the City of Lights is a magnificent sight to behold is a gross understatement. The sun was setting on the world and the sky was filled with gradients of red, yellow, and orange as night was slowly bleeding into the sunset sky. The stars were beginning to appear and twinkled and sparkled like tiny diamonds in the sky.

A little girl in her sunflower dress happily skipped down the sidewalk passing the beautiful architecture of the city. Even the apartments and simple shops seem to have a history, a culture, to them.

A familiar scent came to her and she happily followed it to a small store. As she entered the smell of chocolate and other sweets assaulted her senses and she smiled as she stared at all of the confections. The kindly storeowner smiled at the little girl and gave her a small sample of chocolate. A burst of favor exploded in her mouth as the sweet met her tongue. The little girl couldn't help but smiled and wiggle as all the flavors of the cocoa bean was unleashed in her mouth.

In another part of the city, two lovers gently embraced each other as they strolled by the Arc de Triomphe. The woman's perfume carried the scent of sweet exotic flowers and it mixed perfectly with the musk of the man's cologne. They laughed at some inside joke as they held each other's hand and stroll in the twilight.

An elderly couple quietly strolled in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower. Even after many years together and much trepidation they were still in love with each other. They gazed at one another in quiet understanding. They no longer need words to confess their love to each other for they know the other's heart all too well.

The inherent beauty of the city became more pronounced as the sanctity of night was rolling in. The City of Lights is truly marvelous like a living painting that's constantly being repainted and transforming into something more beautiful with every minute. Unfortunately Trevor, Miranda, and Bonkers didn't see any of these sights.

They were snuck in the sewers.

"Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!" Trevor and Miranda screamed when they looked at each other. Both the keyblader and the swordswoman were transformed into rats. Trevor had dark brown fur; the same color as his hair. The only article of clothing he had on was a miniature version of his black leather jacket. Miranda's fur was blonde and she carried a miniature version of her katana by her side that was more fitted to be someone's toothpick.

"What kind of sick joke is this?!" the blonde cop screamed. "Whose idea was this?!"

"I don't know. You guys look fine to me," Bonkers responded. The keyblader and the swordswoman looked at their friend and were shocked to see what they saw. Bonkers looked exactly the same, just was shrink down to the size of a rat.

"Bonkers...," Trevor began, "Why is it that you haven't change forms like me and Miranda?"

"Oh, that's because I'm copyrighted," the cartoon bobcat nonchalantly explained. "My image can't be change or altered without the permission of me or my creator."

"Wha? Are you saying that copyright laws supersede the laws of the universe?!"

"The power of attorneys," Bonkers nodded.

The blonde grabbed and shook Bonkers. "You mean when me and Trevor are being twisted and deformed for the sake of the world order you will always remain the same?!"

"Miranda, calm down," the keyblader urged. "If we were turned into rats there must be a reason for it."

"We are in a sewer!"

"That's Eddie fault," Trevor shook his head. "I swear, when we get back I'm going to reprogram that computer. And this time, I mean it!"

"Why did it have to be rats?" Miranda cursed.

The group heard a scuffing noise from behind them. They turned around and peered into the darkness. Deep in the dark, dank sewer, several hundred Heartless known as the Muck Crawlers emerged. In the shape of flattened blue cockroaches, they scurried toward our heroes. Their antennae twisted and prodded in every possible direction. The Heartless emblem was on their backs and their dull yellow eyes seem to look always straight ahead.

"Run!" the keyblader yelled and the three travelers made a mad dash in search for an exit.

"Of course the Heartless had to be some creepy crawly," Miranda cursed. "I want off of this world!"

"Pull it together," Trevor yelled back. "You're a cop, aren't you trained for these types of situations?!"

"I'm sorry, I must have missed the course on how to deal with a horde of giant bugs back at the police academy!" the cop snapped back.

"Well, we'll have to do something." Trevor turned around and cast Ultima. However, instead of taking form of an all-powerful eastern dragon, the spell took the form of a salamander. Needless to say, the spell wasn't nearly as effective as it could have been; it only managed to destroy ten Heartless. "Oh crap, my spells must be weaker in this form!"

"Then let's try somethin' different!" Bonkers yelled as he turned around and launched a Firaga spell. The light that the spell gave off confused the Heartless, made them panic and scattered all over the place seeking refuse from the brightness of the fire.

"Oh dear lord, this is much worst!" Miranda screamed as she leaped out of the way of several frightened Muck Crawlers.

"Maybe we can use their fear of light to our advantage," the keyblader thought out loud. "Bonkers!" he commanded and the bobcat rushed to his side. Together they pooled their mana together into one attack. "Limit Breaker: Bonfire!" The two shoot off two fire spells that combined into an enormous blaze, lighting up the whole area. The Muck Crawlers screeched in pain and fled back into the darkness.

Everyone put away their weapons, thankful the horrible battle is over. "This fire won't last for long," Trevor warned them. "We need to find a way to get topside and fast!"

"Don't have to tell me twice," Miranda stated as they ventured deeper within the sewer.

The three scurried through the sewer system, desperately looking for a way out. Because of their now heighten senses, Miranda and Trevor had the displeasure of smelling every single foul odor in the underground cesspool; so much so that they could taste it. They would have gag, but rats don't have gag reflexives. So the two humans in rat forms now had to endure their unfortunate surroundings without any relief.

Finally they saw a light up ahead. They approached this tiny lit corner with caution since they could see a figure in the distance. The figure bathed in fading light was a blue-grey rat flipping slowly through an enormous cookbook. Trevor looked to his friends and they nodded back at him. They will carefully approach this creature.

"Uh, hello there," the keyblader called out as they slowly walked forward.

This gave the poor rat a start, for he had thought he was alone. He turned to see Trevor, Miranda, and Bonkers. It was relieved that it was only his fellow rats and not one of these strange creatures that was plaguing him for days. "Oh… hey," the blue rat said a bit crestfallen. "I don't recognize you three. Are you from my dad's colony?"

"Colony?" Trevor scratched his head. "I didn't know that rats- eh… we rats traveled in colonies."

"Colonies of rats; just what we needed," Miranda muttered sarcastically under her breath.

"Oh…," the strange rat sighed heavily and returned to his cookbook. "I guess that means you're native to these parts."

"No, we're travelers!" Bonkers chimed in. "We go around places and right wrongs!"

"Sadly, my wrong can't be righted," the rat sighed.

Trevor was puzzled. "What are you talking about?"

"About a week ago," the rat began, "I messed up big time. You see, I have a dream… to cook…"

"Oh god, a rat that wants to cook," Miranda wished that she had the ability to hurl.

"I know, I know… cooking is a part of the human domain and shouldn't concern us rats, but every time I watch somebody cook, watch them create, my heart just fills with joy. Human beings have the power to do anything, to create. Why not a rat? I want to create something that makes others happy. And food makes everyone happy, right?"

"Yeah," the keyblader agreed. "But what does this have to do with your family?"

The rat looked down in despair. "You see, my colony lived in some old lady's country home. I got caught stealing ingredients in her kitchen and well… One thing led to another and the whole colony was forced to flee. During our escape I got separated from everyone and now I'm god know where. Not only that, there are these creatures that lurk in the darkness of these tunnels… Who knows what happened to the colony? If anything happens to them, it's on my head."

"Well, sitting around here sulking won't help matters," Trevor said looking up at the light source which was a crack in the ceiling. "What do you say we go topside and see where are we exactly? Maybe we can even find your family."

"Three strangers are willing to do that?" the rat said, but really he was talking aloud to himself.

"Of course," Bonkers nodded. "That's what we do!"

"Like the bobcat said, that is what we do," the keyblader agreed. "By the way, I'm Trevor and these are my friends Miranda and Bonkers."

"Remy," the blue-grey rat responded.

"Well, Remy, what are we waiting for?"

"Nothing, I guess."

The four then climbed a pipe up through the crack in the ceiling. They quickly wounded up in between the walls of someone's apartment building, avoiding rat traps and the like. They climbed higher still and crawled out of a hole in a kitchen. The group of rodents scurried out a window and scramble up a storm drain pipe until they reached the roof. The view that they saw was spectacular.

Serving as an iconic landmark, the Eiffel Tower was lit up and sparkled in the fading sunset. The city was coming to life, as more and more buildings were turning on their lights and the cars on the street, their headlights.

"I don't believe it!" Remy exclaimed. "I was in Paris the whole time; the food capital of the world!"

"See what happens when you stop sulking and start taking initiative?" Trevor said.

"Oh, look! There's Gusteau's!" Remy pointed to a building with a giant neon sign of an overweight chef.

"What's Gusteau's?" Miranda said halfhearted.

"What's Gusteau's?! Only the best restaurant in the world!" Remy rejoiced elated. "Well, they kinda fell on hard times when Chef Gusteau died, but man o' man we're at Gusteau's! He had a cook show and everything; he even wrote my favorite cookbook. You can say that the man is a HUGE inspiration for me."

"Well, why don't we check it out?" Trevor suggested.

"WHAT?! ARE YOU SERIOUS?!" Remy said overjoyed while Miranda said it with horror.

"Are you crazy, Trevor?!" the blonde said. "That is a restaurant and we're rats. They are not going to welcome us in."

"Who said about going inside?" the keyblader shrugged nonchalantly. "We can look in through the glass ceiling on the building." He pointed out. "Aren't you the least bit curious on how a French restaurant operates? Besides, Remy seems to be on board and it not like he's going to cook anything. Rats can't cook."

"No!" Miranda said sternly putting her foot down. "We shouldn't be going anywhere near a restaurant; not in these forms!"

The keyblader shrugged indifferently. "Okay, your lost," and he, Remy, and Bonkers scampered off to the direction of Gusteau's.

Miranda stayed put, she didn't want any part in this crazy scheme. After a few moments however, she crumbled and ran after them. "This is only going to end very badly…," she said to herself.

KH-KH-KH

A chubby light brown rat named Emile scurried through one of the many alleys in Paris. He was sent on a mission by his father, Django, to find his missing brother, Remy. He searched everywhere, but couldn't find a sign of his missing brother.

"Oh man…," Emile said to himself. "Remy, where are you? And why do you want to act like a human and cook? I mean, what's wrong with eating garbage?"

There was a small noise coming from behind him, and the chubby rat jumped straight up completely startled. "Who's there?" he shivered backing away slowly.

The mysterious figure did not come out of the shadows, but took enough steps for Emile to realize that he was dealing with a fellow rat.

Emile breathed a sigh of relief and took a step forward. "You scared me for a second." He noticed that the mysterious rat was standing on his hind legs, something that his brother would do. "Remy, is that you?" he asked cautiously. He received no reply, but the Emile did notice that the figure was definitely taller than his brother; maybe even by several inches.

The second aspect of the figure Emile noticed that the other rat appeared to be wearing clothes. "I guess you are not Remy…," Emile backed up once again. There was something not right about this figure. "Is walking upright and wearing clothes something that you city rats do or is it a thing that you're into? Hey, I don't judge."

That last comment resulted in the figure uttering a soft chuckle. Robert stepped out into the light and summoned his dark keyblade. "I think you will do nicely…," the dark keyblader said as he readjusted his glasses, "…for a test run."

KH-KH-KH

"Wow," Trevor said in amazement. Everyone was sitting on the glass ceiling staring downward at the busy kitchen. Every one of them was enthralled with the drama that goes on in a restaurant with the exception of Miranda, who was only half paying attention. "Look at them go! I knew that the dinner rush would be busy, but I didn't know that it would be this busy!"

"I know, it's fascinating isn't it? We're witnessing a real gourmet restaurant in action!" Remy stated completely enthralled in the experience. He then went on explaining the different roles in a restaurant kitchen with such authority that one would think that he worked in a kitchen all of his life.

"I wish I can work at a restaurant," Remy sighed.

"Well, who says you can't?" Bonkers asked.

"The laws of nature," Miranda retorted.

"Don't be like that, Miranda," the bobcat said. "Everyone could cook if they wanted to."

"That doesn't mean that everyone should," Trevor said. "I mean look at that garbage boy down there. From here it looks like he's ruining a dish."

Everyone looked down and saw that a garbage boy with red curly hair dumping a whole bunch of random ingredients in a soup pot. A few moments before he tasting the soup, he began to gag and accidentally knocked over some salt into the pot. To cover up his idiotic mistake he throws more items in the soup.

"No, no, what is he doing?! He's just a plongeur, he shouldn't be doing that!" Remy yelled. "He's ruining the dish and nobody's stopping him!" It was true. All of the chefs were too busy preparing the customers dishes to notice the garbage boy's antics. A few seconds later, the plongeur left and continued moping.

"Remy, calm down!" Miranda said.

"Calm down?" the grey-blue rat said. "Calm down?! Someone needs to stop him! Somebody is going to eat that soup!" He banged on the glass with his fists hard and everyone was surprised when it started to tilt. The piece of glass that they were sitting on was actually window.

All four of them fell and landed in the dishwater. Stun only for a brief moment, the adrenalin kicked in and the four of them hopped out of the sink and onto the floor. Thankful nobody noticed them as they made a mad dash to an open window on the other side of the kitchen. They swiftly scuttled up a broom to the very cooktop the soup was on.

As Remy passed the pot, he stopped and took a good whiff. He was deeply underwhelmed. He dash some salt in to fix the soup and restarted his escape, but stop only to go back and throw some more ingredients in.

Trevor, Miranda, and Bonkers reached the window. When they looked back they noticed that Remy was not with them. They only have to look a few feet to see Remy turning the fire down on the cooktop.

"Remy, what are you doing?!" the keyblader said in a harsh whisper. "We have to escape before we get caught!"

"I can't just leave this soup like this," Remy defended. "Some poor soul is going to eat this. I have to fix this."

"Are you crazy?!" Miranda said. "You've risking your life to cook some soup?!"

"I can't help it," Remy tired to explain. "Something inside of me is telling me to fix this dish. Just trust me."

"Trust you?" Trevor said as he scampered over. "Remy, you're… uh, we are rats. We can't cook, rats aren't built for that!"

"It's okay," Remy spoke as he carefully put in some more ingredients. "I learn how to cook from watching cooking shows and reading cookbooks. I can do this."

The keyblader slapped his head. "Do you know how crazy that sounds?! That's like me saying that I'm a master of interior design, because I watched several episodes of Flip that House!"

"You watch Flip that House?" Bonkers questioned with one eyebrow raised.

"That's not the point! The point is—"

"Hey, when you guys are finish arguing could you help me put this chicken broth in." Remy climbed to the shelf over the pot and was trying to push a large plastic container.

Trevor sighed and reluctantly went over to help him. Bonkers followed suit. Miranda, seeing her comrades helping the grey-blue rat, was dumbfounded. "What the heck?" she sighed. "I suppose we have been in worst situations then this…" She ran over to help.

So the three travelers helped Remy fix the foul-tasting soup. Some crème was poured in, some onions, and many other ingredients.

Remy was stirring the soup with a wooden spoon when Trevor pulled on his tail. "Uh, Remy, dude…" The blue-grey rat looked to the direction the keyblader was pointed at he saw the plongeur starring at them flabbergasted while holding a ladle. "Time to go!" Trevor yelled and the four of them made a mad dash to the window. Unfortunately for them, the plongeur trapped them in a colander. "Oh great," the keyblader huffed.

Miranda just smirked. "I don't want to say 'I told you so,' but…"

Meanwhile, the plongeur was wondering what he should do with the rats. He knew he should take them outside, but what he saw was beyond explanation. The rats were cooking! Can that actually happen? Can rats learn how to cook? Where does a rat learn how to cook anyway? Everything was happening too fast for him. Decisions like this should never be made by a recently hired glorified kitchen janitor.

The plongeur turned around and saw the head chef starring daggers at him. The head chef looked as French as French can be; no one in the country can be a perfect walking stereotype. He was also painfully short and looked comically when next to the tall and lanky plongeur. The head chef spied the ladle the garbage boy was holding. "You were cooking?!" he yelled absolutely furious. "You're just a simple plongeur that I hired today! What gave you the gall to attempt to do something so monumentally idiotic?! I could sue you for sabotage; the law will be on my side!"

As the plongeur was continually backing up with every insult the head chef was dishing out, the saucier walked back dipped his ladle in the soup and poured it in a soup bowl for the waiting customer. He handed it to the waiter who went out to the dinning area to deliver it.

"NO!" the head chef yelled when he turned around and saw that the soup leaving the kitchen door. Over boiling with rage, he ran to the plongeur and shook him. "Linguini, you're fired! F-I-R-E-D; fired!"

The waiter came back and spoke to the head chef. "The customer wants to see the chef."

The head chef nervously pulled himself together and went out to the dinning area. Meanwhile, a female chef with dark violet hair sampled the soup for herself. She was amazed by the taste of the dish, but kept it to herself. When the head chef returned she asked, "Chef Skinner, what did the customer say?"

"It was not a customer, but a critic," Head Chef Skinner said in puzzlement of the situation. "Solene LeClaire."

"LeClaire? What did she say?"

"She liked the soup." The head chef took a spoon and sampled the dish for himself. After tasting it he could see why the food critic loved it so much. He grabbed Linguini and brought him down to his eye level. "What game are you playing at, boy?"

Linguini the plongeur could only stammer. "Does this still mean that I'm fired?"

"You can't fire him," the female chef stuck up for Linguini. "Not after this."

"He's just a garbage boy, Colette!" the head chef argued.

"Who made something that LeClaire likes," Colette retorted. "So much so, she wanted to tell you. And if she writes a review to that effect and she finds out that you fired the cook who made the dish, what do you think is going to happen to us? How can we carry on Gusteau's legacy if we don't believe in his most cherish belief?"

"And what will that be, Mademoiselle Tatou?"

"That anyone can cook."

Chef Skinner thought for a moment and then clapped his hands together. "You are right, Colette. Our garbage boy has taken a bold risk, and as such he should be rewarded. Since you are so convinced that his budding career as a chef will take this restaurant to new heights, you are going to be responsible for Linguini." He then turned to Linguini. "As for you, you either got lucky or got very unlucky! You are going to make that soup again and this time I'm going to watch you very closely."

"Did you guys hear that?" Remy said to the other extremely excited. "They like my soup. Not only that, a food critic liked my soup!"

"That's great, Remy, freak accidents occasionally happen. Now help us escape," the keyblade said as he, Miranda, and Bonkers struggled to lift up the colander they were trapped under.

"Oh, right!" the rat cook quickly help them lift the colander and they quickly, and quietly, made a sprint toward the open window.

"You think you're clever, Linguini," Chef Skinner berated the former garbage boy. "But I think you are nothing, but a—" Something caught the corner of his eye. When he looked over, to his horror he saw four rats climbing out the window. "Rats!" he screamed. He grabbed a mop and knocked they knocked the four of them off the window ledge.

Stun only for a second, the four rats scamper around the kitchen. "Catch them, catch them!" the head chef ordered.

With one fell swoop, Linguini captured the four rodents in a large glass jar.

"Good," Chef Skinner said relieved. "At least you are good for something. Now kill them."

"Here?" Linguini said shocked.

"No, not in here, you imbecile! Far away from here! If anyone found out that there were rats in here, they will shut us down; our reputation is strained as it is. Drown them in the river or something. Do it and do it quickly!"

KH-KH-KH

Linguini sped to the center of the city on his bicycle. When he arrived at the river, it was after ten and there was almost no one on the streets. A light fog was starting to set in. The young man got off his bike, grabbed the jar, and went over to the river's edge. He made the mistake of looking into his captives' eyes. Their eyes were pleading with him, begging him to spare their lives.

"Don't look at me like that!" he yelled at them. "It's not like you guys are the only ones who are trapped! They expect me to make the soup again, but you guys are the ones who did it; getting fancy with all of those spices! What did you guys put in there? Oregano? Rosemary?" Remy shook his head. "Wait… Is rosemary is even a spice?" The four rodents nodded.

"Oh man," Linguini sunk down and sat on the cold wet stones of the street. "I needed this job so badly; I have lost so many others. I just wanted to stay out of trouble and now I'm talking to a couple of rats as if they— Hey!" He jumped up in shocked revelation. "Were you guys nodding?" he asked.

Remy, Trevor, Miranda, and Bonkers nodded.

Linguini picked up the oversized jar. "So you guys can understand me?" The group of rodents nodded again. The young man slapped his forehead with his mouth agape. What a revelation this is! The rats that not only can cook, but can understand French as well. "So all of you rats can cook?" Trevor, Bonkers, and Miranda shook their heads pointed to Remy. "Wait, so only the grey one can cook?" The three travelers nodded, but Remy coyly shrugged. "Oh, don't be so modest, you guys are rats for Pete's sake. Speaking of which, what are you exactly?" He was referring to Bonkers, who, as stated above, hadn't transformed but shrunk to the size of a rat.

Bonkers breathed on the glass and wrote 'bobcat' backwards on fog so that Linguini can read it.

"Bobcat?" Linguini questioned. "I didn't know that there were bobcats in Europe or that they are that small… Are you are some sort of undiscovered toy breed or," he stopped for a moment to realized what he was doing. "Oh, what am I doing?! I'm carrying on a conversion with a bunch of animals! I must be insane!"

As the young man worry himself in circles, a single dark portal opened near him. A lone Neoshadow crept out and slinked toward Linguini. Linguini noticed and leapt back in surprise. He accidentally dropped the jar which broke in a thousand pieces freeing the rodents.

"Now is our chance! We can make a run for it!" Remy yelled.

"No, we stay and fight!" Trevor said as he summoned his keyblade. "We have defeated Heartless before, we can take them. Besides it's only one Neoshadow." He looked up and saw how big the Heartless looked compared to his new size. The Heartless might as well be a Darkside. "…One giant Neoshadow…," the keyblader corrected himself.

The Heartless tried to claw at Trevor, but the keyblader expertly dodged the attack. It then melted into the floor in the form of a shadow so that the keyblader and the others couldn't hit it. The monster then resumed its normal form, launching itself upwards, striking the party several times and scattering them in the process. It knelt over to attempt to scoop up the warriors, but Trevor grabbed its right antenna and Remy grabbed its left antenna. The creature of darkness became confused fell to the floor stumbling all over itself.

Trevor and Remy hopped on the Neoshadow's back, both of them still have the creature's antennae in their hands and pulled hard. The Neoshadow reeled backwards and with every yank and pull the two rats made on its antennae the monster was forced to involuntary move. The two rats got so good at controlling the Heartless they forced it hit itself.

"Hold the Heartless right there!" Miranda ordered Trevor and Remy so she can strike the Neoshadow. Remy and Trevor yanked hand and the Heartless was trapped in a painful paralyzed position. Miranda ran up with her katana drawn and unleashed her attack on the giant Heartless. The monster was defeated and its body vanished into black smoke.

Linguini watched from the sidelines, completely baffled and in awe. "I've found rats that can cook, fight, and understand French," he said to himself dumbfounded. "It's finally happened; I am going insane." He cautiously walked over to them and knelt down in front of them. "Tell me the truth; I can't cook, can I?" All four rodents shook their heads. "But you," he pointed to Remy, "can." Linguini thought about the gravity of this situation. He needs help; lots of help and the only one who can give it were these rats. "I have an idea, even though it sounds crazy. You can cook and I can appear human. If we work together, I get to keep my job and you get to cook. And I can give your friends here a place to stay. How does that sounds?" He set his hand down to see if they will accept the pact his purposed. Remy looked to the others and Trevor just shrugged then nodded his head. The four of them scampered up Linguini's arm and rested on his shoulders.

"Well then, I guess that means all of us are in it together," Linguini stated as he got on his bike and rode off to his apartment.

KH-KH-KH

As Linguini rode off, Nerela and Robert stepped out of the shadows. Robert had used magic to be as tall as a man again. He sniffed as he watched the young man cycled away.

"Oh man!" Nerela stated with her hands on her hips. "I thought one Heartless would be enough to take care of them. I gotta admit, that keyblader have some skills, but still… thanks to that idiot, Derrick, Trevor now knows that another organization exist. We need to nip this in the bud now before he tells the other keybladers about us. We are Xehanort's and the true Organization XIII's contingency plan. The Uroboros exist so that Xehanort and his plans will be eternal. How do you think we should handle this?"

Robert remained silent. He mind was clearly elsewhere and his glaze was at the every spot that Linguini had disappeared in the fog.

Nerela was annoyed. "Hello?! Earth to Robert!" she waved her hands in front of the rat's eyes causing him to snap out of his trance. "What's with the more-serious-than-usual act? This world filled with rats brings back memories or something?"

"Something like that…," Robert slowly stated. "Even though I wasn't born on this world… I know what Remy's going through; the curiosity with the world of humans, the wish to find out more about them, the naïve world view that will be soon shattered…" He grabbed his right prosthetic arm with his left hand when he felt a phantom pain shoot through where his arm used to be. "But it would seem that he's going to learn the same horrible lesson I learn when I was young: When you mess with humans, you are always going to get burn."

"Okay, whatever," Nerela rolled her eyes. She didn't want to hear the rat scientist's life story again. "But what about our problem with Trevor? How do we get rid of the pest?!"

"We don't need to kill him," Robert said as he slowly walked forward. "If we do then that will only alert the other keybladers that something is up. We just need to do two things: throw him off our scent and break his spirit." He flashed his fellow dark keyblader a cold icy glare. "And I am the one who is going to do that."

KH-KH-KH

"Wow," Trevor said as he stuffed his face with cheese. "This is better than watching television." He, Miranda, and Bonkers were busying watching Remy and Linguini learning how to cook together. All of them were at Linguini's tiny, extremely cramp apartment. Remy and the others discovered that the rat could control Linguini like a puppet by pulling and yanking on the young man's hair. Just like when Trevor and Remy controlled the Neoshadow.

Now it was a process of trail and error. After several attempts in trying to cook a dish, they had accidentally set Linguini's arm on fire, broke a window, and pour wine all over themselves. However, now Remy was steady becoming a master puppeteer. The young rat made three dishes so far without any incidents.

Trevor passed the chuck of cheese to Bonkers who took a big bite. "Ya think they can pull this off?" the cartoon bobcat spoke with his mouth full. "I mean, wouldn't people notice a rat on Linguini's head?"

The bobcat offered the chuck of cheese to Miranda, who declined. "Not if Remy stays underneath Linguini's chef hat," the blonde cop said. "Although, I said it once and I'll said it again; I don't like this plan."

"Neither do I, but we will know if it'll work tomorrow," said the keyblader. "Only time can tell."

KH-KH-KH

At Gusteau's the next morning, all the chefs were gathered around Colette who was reading from a newspaper. "'Though I, like many other critics, had written off Gusteau as irrelevant since the great chef's death, the soup was a revelation. It was a spicy, yet subtle taste experience. Against all odds, Gusteau's has recaptured our attention. Only time will tell if they deserve it.'"

"Solene LeClaire wrote that?" Head Chef Skinner asked in amazement.

"Yes!" Colette said excited.

"And all because of a garbage boy," the head chef scratched his chin. "There's something fishy about him. And I'm going to discover his secret."

Meanwhile, outside, Linguini sat Trevor, Miranda, and Bonkers down in the alley behind the restaurant. "I can only have one rat under my toque at a time," he explained. "You guys have to stay out here and guard the restaurant from those creepy monsters, okay?" The three travelers nodded and then Linguini picked up Remy and placed him on his head. "Are you ready, Little Chef? Let's do this!" With that the young man put on his toque and walked in the kitchen.

"It's a shame that we can't see the action," Trevor commented.

"Uh, guys…," Bonkers pointed behind them and they saw dozen of dark portals opening up.

"Looks like we have some action to deal with ourselves," Trevor said as he summoned his keyblade.

The Heartless were in the shape of small violet raccoons with black masks and red rings on their tails. They stood on their hind legs and carry around a brown burlap sack with them. Their names are Night Bandits.

One of the Night Bandits swung its burlap sack and attempt to hit Bonkers with it. The cartoon bobcat dodged and fired off a round of Thundaga. All of the Night Bandits that were hit went berserk and their tails were set ablaze. The monsters then began to zip around the alley dealing fire damage to anyone their came in contact with.

"Maybe we can beat them by using ice-based magic," Trevor wondered aloud. "Whiskers, lets only use Blizzaga."

"Why do you keep calling me, Whiskers?" Bonkers questioned as he blasted a Night Bandit with ice.

"What? I was?" the keyblader said shocked. "I don't remember calling you that." All of a sudden he started feeling lightheaded. He stumbled a bit and dropped his weapon. "Why do I feel so tir—" He felt his body dropped and the world around him fading into black.

It seemed like only a moment of mere milliseconds before the world slowly came back into focus. Before his eyes a different scene was playing out than the battle he was just in. He saw that he was on a gummiship of some kind seated comfortably on a leather chair while staring at a computer monitor. His body suddenly shifted as if it was turning to the side by its own volition. The movement was so sudden that Trevor tried to stop himself, but was shocked to see that he couldn't. It was like he was watching a movie and was merely a spectator to the events that was unfolding about him.

His body seem to turn to face the source of all the noise that was about to enter the room.

"Whiskers!" screeched a voice as the door to the ship's cabin flew open. Brandy stormed in with a towel in her hand and threw it to the ground. "Does anyone mind telling me why the only bathroom on this entire ship is covered and caked with mud?!"

The keyblader's head then turned to face the white rabbit known as Mr. Whiskers. "Brandy, I have you know it's for a mud bath," the rabbit defended himself. "It does wonders for the skin you know."

"Then why are there five potbellied pigs in there?!" the blonde dog said and was on the verge of screaming.

"Well, I never said that the mud bath was for me," Whiskers huffed.

"Arrrgggghhh!" Brandy screamed and accidentally tore some of her fur off her head. "I've forgotten how infuriating you can be!" She turned to the keyblader. "Kyle, how can you even stand him?!"

'Kyle?!' Trevor thought wildly. 'I'm in Kyle's body?!'

Kyle then spoke; apparently completely unaware of Trevor's presence within him. His voice was almost the same as Trevor's, but was only slightly higher and airy. It confused Trevor to no end to speak in his voice, and yet not be the one who is doing the talking.

"You just get use to his antics after a bit," Kyle shrugged. "What I want to know is how did you sneak five large pigs in the ship?" he asked the nervous rabbit.

"Well, you see, Ed and I were—" Whatever Whiskers had to say Trevor didn't hear it.

His vision faded into white and soon he found himself under a magic barrier with a couple of Night Bandits trying to break in. The keyblader looked over and saw that Bonkers was with him inside the barrier.

"Bonkers…," Trevor said slowly getting up. "What are we doing here?"

The cartoon bobcat raised an eyebrow before answering. "You've passed out in the middle of battle. I had to cast Protect so the Heartless won't get to ya."

Outside the barrier, Trevor could see Miranda destroying the Heartless one by one. "….I'm fine now Bonkers," the keyblader tried to convince the bobcat as he summoned his keyblade. "Get rid off of the Protect spell."

Bonkers seemed hesitate to comply, but decided to obey his order. When the spell broke, three Night Bandits took the opportunity to pounce on the two. Both Trevor and Bonkers raised their weapons in the air and cast their spell. "Limit Breaker: Ice Tornado!" Chucks of ice and snow filled the area and a great arctic wind swept the alley and spun around every Heartless, flinging the helpless monsters into the air. The spell then froze the Night Bandits and they plummeted down to the cobblestone pavement destroying them and releasing their hearts.

The danger was over, for now. Trevor breathed an uncomfortable sigh of relief.

"What happened?" was the first thing Miranda wanted to know from Trevor. "Why did you passed out?"

"I don't know…," Trevor said clutching his head. "I just felt dizzy then I found myself in Kyle's body.

"Kyle's body?" Miranda repeated.

Trevor nodded. "It was the strangest experience I've dealt with so far. I was experiencing things from Kyle's perceptive. … It was like I didn't have any say in the matter… I saw a rabbit named Whiskers and a dog named Brandy. Apparently they are all traveling together."

Bonkers scratched his head. "So when you keep calling me Whiskers that means…"

"…Kyle's side of my heart is starting to take over," finished Trevor. "It means the battle between him and me is not over. If he completely takes over then I will vanish; there will be no trace of me left…"

This alarmed Miranda. "Is there anything we can do? There's got to be some way we can stop it."

"Well, there's always my brother's plan," he laughed but no one appreciated his dark humor. He cleared his throat. "What we talk about some time ago might work. Finding Kingdom Hearts and using its power to justify the existence of both the shadow worlds and their original worlds. It's the heart of all worlds; it should be possible for it to create a new heart just for Kyle. The trick is finding the door to Kingdom Hearts…"

"But before we can do that, we have to deal with the three groups of villains that are wandering the universe," Miranda reminded him.

The keyblader sighed. "Yeah, I know. The Forsaken, Naraku's Inter-Circle, and whatever group that dark keyblader Derrick is apart of. The fact that we don't know the identity of that last group bothers me… I wonder if—"

Suddenly the backdoor to the restaurant opened. Trevor, Miranda, and Bonkers was about to scamper away, but stopped when they saw that it was only Linguini. The young man took off his toque, grabbed Remy, and set him down with the others. He then set down a small napkin filled with cheeses, grapes, and bread.

"Nice work tonight, little chef," Linguini congratulated Remy. "The customers like what we, uh… you cooked today. Even that amazing woman, Colette, was impressed. You and your friends take five; the head chef said he wanted to see me." With that the young man nodded and went back into the restaurant.

"So how did it go?" Bonkers questioned the blue-grey rat.

"Amazingly!" Remy rejoiced. "Remaking that soup was a piece of cake. But then later the head chef wanted us to cook this one dish that even Gusteau himself couldn't make taste good. But I knew what the dish was missing and I added it in the last minute. And the best part is that the customers loved it! It seemed like everyone who came into Gusteau's was ordering my special dish!"

"That's great Remy," Trevor congratulated him, but inside was completely shocked that Remy and Linguini's plan worked. 'Can a rat really cook?' he questioned himself. The whole situation felt weird to him.

"Yeah," Remy agreed as he took a bite out of a red grape. "I can't wait to cook again."

KH-KH-KH

Inside his office, Head Chef Skinner finally got around to reading the letter Linguini's recently deceased mother gave him. He was taken aback over the letter's contents. The letter claimed that Linguini is in fact Gusteau's son, though the mother never told her son. All she wanted was a job for her well-intending, yet pathetic son. Skinner slammed the letter on his desk. This was beyond bad, this was horrific. Gusteau's will state that if an heir doesn't appear within two years of his death, the restaurant will belong to him. But if an heir does appear… if Linguini really is Gusteau's son then he will inherit the restaurant instead of Skinner.

'Every thing about this Linguini business is highly suspect,' Skinner thought to himself. 'A lowly garbage boy with an unnatural talent of the culinary arts appears out of nowhere with a letter that his dead mother gave him which states that he is Gusteau's son? There are too many coincidences here.'

He heard a slight knock on the door to his office. He turned around and saw a nervous Linguini poke his head in.

"Uh…," began the nervous new chef. "Y-you wanted to see me, head chef?"

"Yes, yes, come in, come in," Skinner waved in while putting away the letter.

"Am I in trouble?" Linguini questioned cautiously.

"Trouble," Skinner laughed a little. "No, just little wine, a friendly chat; just between us cooks." He poured both of them a glass of wine. "How about a toast to your serendipitous success, eh, Linguini?"

The young man scratched the back of his head. "Oh, I don't r-really drink alcohol of any kind, you see—"

"Of course you wouldn't," Skinner interrupted him. "The standard wine that most commoners drink; it is garbage! But you would have to be an idiot of elephantine proportions not to appreciate this '61 Chateau Latour. And you, Monsieur Linguini, are no idiot. Let us toast your non-idiocy." He handed the glass to Linguini and the young man took a slip to be polite.

Due to Linguini's inexperience with alcohol, it wasn't hard for the head chef to make the young man drunk. With the new chef slightly inebriated, he's now has some very lose lips. This was Skinner's chance to see what game Linguini was trying to play.

"More wine?" Skinner offered.

"I shouldn't, but… Okay," Linguini slurred.

As he poured the wine, the head chef began to probe Linguini for some answers. "So, where did you train, Linguini? Surely you don't expect me to believe this is your first time cooking?"

"It's not," the young man said as he sipped the wine.

"I knew it!" Skinner yelled.

"It's my…" Linguini began to start counting on his hand. "Second, third, fourth… Fifth time. Monday was my first time. But I've taken out the garbage lots of times before that…"

Skinner shook himself. He couldn't believe he was getting nowhere with this garbage boy. He knows that this young man has a secret and that it's hiding somewhere in that thick head of his. The only thing he has to do is flush it out.

"You must have done something on that Monday," Skinner pressed, "Something that inspired you to have the audacity to cook in my kitchen!"

"Just taking out the garbage and taking care of those rats like you told me to," Linguini flashed a goofy smile, lean back in his chair, and drank the remainder of the wine in his glass.

"Yes, yes, the rats…" Skinner was waving off, but then stopped. "The rats?..." he said aloud to himself. "What did you do with those rats, Linguini?"

The young man wasn't listening to him; he was off in his own little world. "Ratta-tatta," he sang to himself to stopping. "Hey, what do they call it that?"

"What?"

"Ratatouille. It's like a stew, right? Why do they call it that? If you're going to name a food you should give it a name that sounds delicious. Ratatouille doesn't sound delicious. It sounds like 'rat' and 'patootie.' Rat patootie; which does not sounds delicious." When he was finished sharing his thoughts, Linguini quickly discovered that his wine glass has the displeasure of being empty. In his fuzzy mind, he thought it was a crying shame that his glass was empty since it was the wine glass only purpose to hold some wine. To remedy this state of affairs, Linguini held out his glass to Skinner as a signal for him to pour some more wine in the sad, and now purposeless, wine glass.

The head chef didn't comply however. With great frustration and a sense that his time was being wasted he dropped the wine bottle into the waste basket. "Regrettably…," he strained, trying to contain himself, "we are all out of wine." He got up and put on his coat. "Make sure the floors and countertops are clean before you lock up. And do all the pots, pans, and dishes."

"Y-you want me to stay here and clean?" Linguini questioned. "But that will take me all night."

"Is that a problem?"

"Uh, no…"

"Good boy. See you tomorrow." The Head Chef then left his office and the restaurant. Linguini stared out in the kitchen and sighed heavily. He has a lot of work ahead of him.

KH-KH-KH

Meanwhile, outside in the alley, Trevor, Remy, Miranda, and Bonkers had just polished off the food that Linguini left for them. The four of them passed the time having causal conversation and shooting the breeze. In the middle of discussing on why Remy used a certain sauce on a dish over some other dish, they heard a rustling behind the trash cans. The three travelers immediately readied their weapons while Remy grabbed the butter knife near him. The four of them inched closer to the sound, prepared for anything to pop out. They saw a shadow dash by, but then it stop and looked at them with blazing yellow eyes. The seasoned three warriors were about to attack on instinct when the shadow leapt forward and revealed that he was only a fat brown rat.

"Remy!" the fat brown rat rejoiced while chewing on some crud.

"Emile?" Remy questioned as he put down the knife.

Emile tackled his brother and together they wrestled a bit. "Remy, you're alive! We thought we have lost you in the rapids in the sewers!" Emile got off his brother and stared at the three strangers. "Remy, who are they?"

Remy brushed himself off before answering. "Emile, these are my friends Trevor, Miranda, and Bonkers. They have really helped me over the last couple of days. And everyone, this is my brother Emile."

Everyone quickly greeted each other, shaking hands and giving slight nods. When the introductions were over Remy pointed to the strange dirty, scum covered lump that his brother was holding and taking the occasional bites out of it. "Emile, what's that?"

The fat rat looked quizzically at the lump as if he never once stopped to consider what the object was. "I don't really know," he shrugged his shoulders, "…Some kind of wrapper, maybe?"

Remy slapped his head. "No, no. This won't do. This is Paris, baby, my town. No brother of mine is going to eat garbage on my watch. Wait here; I'll go grab something from the kitchen."

"Remy, wait," Trevor stopped him. "You can't steal from the kitchen. If someone finds out then Linguini might lose his job."

"Which in turn mean that I will lose my job," the grey-blue rat waved off the keyblader's concern. "It's under control." With that said he scampered off into the kitchen.

As everyone waited for Remy's return, Emile shifted his weight a little and stared down at his feet. He looked at Trevor and the others straight in the eye and said, "You three are not from around here, are you?"

This caused the keyblader to recoil a bit. When Emile said that his voice was flat, a little too direct, and there was a sharp edge to it. And then there were his eyes, when he said that sentence it was as if all life in them had faded. A cold chill ran through the keyblader's spine. Something was off kilter.

"Huh?" Trevor yelped shuffling back a bit.

"What?!" Emile also jumped back as if he too was startled by something. He glanced around like someone had shaken him awake. The life was back in his eyes. "Did you… Did you said something?..." he questioned with a much confused look on his face.

"Uh… No…," the keyblader coughed and wished that Remy would hurry up.

In no time, Remy came back into the alley carrying a bit of cheese and a grape. "Okay, it's time for a food lesson," the blue rat said to his brother. He handed Emile a small portion piece of cheese. "Okay, now chew this. Don't hork it down like you usually do. Savor the favor and the taste for once."

Emile rolled his eyes, but complied with his brother's wishes. He slowly put the cheese in his mouth and began chewing. He didn't understand why the food needs to be in mouth longer than it needs to be; especially when it could be in his stomach.

"Chew it slowly; now, only I only want you to think about the taste," Remy guided his brother. "Creamy, salty sweet, an oaky nuttiness. Do you detect any of that?"

"Oh, I'm detecting some nuttiness," Emile gave his brother a sideways glance.

"Close your eyes and now taste this," the little chef gave his brother a small piece of grape. Emile slowly put it in his mouth. "It's a whole different thing, right? Sweet, crisp, slight tang on the finish."

"Okay…," Emile said doubtingly. He could only detect a small portion of the favor accents that Remy was describing to him. As far as a sense of taste goes Remy has everybody beat. Emile, however, is only concern if the food is adequate for consumption. His need for favor borders on nil.

"Now try them together." His brother complied and the fat rat stuffed the rest of the cheese and the grape in his mouth.

"I think I'm getting a little something there," Emile said with his eyes still closed. The two food items did provide an interesting combination. For a brief, fleeting moment he can almost taste what Remy was trying to convey to him. "It could be the nuttiness."

"See?"

"It might be the tang."

"Now, imagine every great taste in the world being combined into infinite combinations. Tastes that no one has tried yet! There are discoveries to be made!"

"I think… You… lost me again," Emile said causing Remy to sigh heavy. "But it was interesting. Do you three get what Remy is saying?" he said to the three travelers.

"Well…," Trevor began, "There was always a desire in people to find ways to made what they eat more palatable. Humans don't just want to eat to survive, we… uh they," he quickly remembered that he was in rat form, "want to enjoy what they eat as well. Human beings have reached a level where they don't have to fight for survival like other animals do; they can afford such a luxury."

"I still don't get it," Emile shrugged. "Though, I must admit it was the best— Whoa! What am I doing?!" the fat rat interrupted himself when he realized something important. He ran up and grabbed Remy by the shoulders. "Dad doesn't know that you are still alive! We have to go back to the colony!"

"Well…, you see…," Remy stammered. "I kind of have to do something…"

"What to you 'have-to' more than family?" Emile questioned.

"Well, I guess it couldn't hurt to visit…" Remy looked toward Trevor who just nodded.

"Trust me, Remy, they may drive you crazy, but sometimes family is all that we got," the keyblader spoke. He looked down for a moment remembering his brother. "Even if we lose our way, family is always there to bring you back… Besides, when we first met you weren't you crying your eyes out that you lost your family?"

The little chef rolled his eyes and sighed. "Fine, I'll visit. And by the way, you know that I wasn't crying I was just reflecting mournfully."

The entire group followed Emile down into the sewer, much to the displeasure of Miranda.

"One day, we will travel to a nice world, I suppose," Miranda complained to herself. "A world with golden sand beaches with no pirates chasing after you, or maybe we'll one day get the chance to sit and relax at a bistro without having going through the sewer system first!"

"I hate to say this, but aren't you a cop? You are supposed to look straight in the face of danger and laugh," the keyblader said. Miranda stared daggers at Trevor, which made him laugh.

Luckily for them it didn't take long for them to reach the colony. Some of the other rats gave them confused looks, but that changed when they got a good look at Remy. They rush at him, glad to see him alive. Emile pushed the other rats out of the way, searching for his father.

Soon an old rat with a downward pointing snout and the same fur color as Remy made his way through the crowd and stopped in front of the group. He looked shocked at first, but that melted away into a soft, barely noticeable smile. Remy looked down for a moment and cough nervously.

"Uh, hey dad…," the little chef managed to get out.

His father just embraced his wayward son, let go, lifted up Remy's paw, and cried out: "My son has returned!" The whole colony cheered and began celebrating the return of their prodigal son.

An impromptu party soon started complete with music made from everyday household items. Trevor, Miranda, and Bonkers sat with Remy and his family at a special makeshift table as they were served by the other rats.

"…And finding someone to replace you for poison checker has been a disaster," Django explained filling his son in on what's going on in the colony. "Nobody here has your sharp sense of smell. Nothing's been poisoned, thank God, but it hasn't been easy." He then gave his son a hard stare. "You didn't make it easy."

"I know, I am sorry, dad," Remy quickly apologized.

"Well, the important thing is that you're home." Emile nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, well, about that…," Remy said mildly stuttering.

"You look thin. Why is that; a shortage of food or a surplus of snobbery?" His father laughed and Emile joined in even though he didn't get the joke. Remy, needless to say, didn't find that funny. He just stared at his family in mild disappointment. Trevor, Miranda, and Bonkers were barely paying any attention to the conversation; they were too busy worrying about the freshness of the food and drink they were just served. "It's tough out there in the big world all alone, isn't it?" Django continued. "Lucky for you, these three were willing to put up with you until you found your way here," he was gesturing at the traveling three warriors.

"Uh?" Trevor said after sniffing his glass, which was just a toothpaste cap. "We're just happy to help."

"Aiding people in need is what we do," Bonkers added.

Miranda nodded. "Looking out for your son is no skin off our back."

"I'm not a kid anymore," Remy argued. "I can take care of myself. I've found a nice spot not far away, so I'll be able to visit often."

"What?" his father said shocked. "Visit? What do you mean visit?"

"You didn't except me to stay here forever, did you dad? A bird gotta to leave the nest some time."

"We're not birds, we're rats," his father pressed. "We don't leave our nest, we make them bigger."

"Well, maybe I'm a different kind a rat."

"Maybe you're not a rat at all!" the father banged his fist on the table.

"Okay, maybe we should all take a deep breath before we someone says something that they can't take back," Miranda said. Trevor and Bonkers squirmed a bit. It's always awkward being the third wheel in a family argument; especially if the family is not yours.

"You three stay out of this; I know how to raise my sons."

"Sure, yell at my friends, you good at that," Remy shook his head.

His father flashed him an intense glance. "Oh, you have been away for awhile so now you have all the answers? You think you know what's best for you and this colony?"

"I don't want to steal, dad. I want to make something. I want to add something to this world. Why can't you understand that?"

"You are beginning to talk like a human."

"Humans aren't so bad," Remy argued. "They're more complex than you think."

"That's right," Trevor spoke up feeling the need to stand up for humanity. "We… uh, they have their little quirks, but they aren't all bad people."

"Yes," Miranda agreed. "They are just trying to survive in this world like the rest of us."

"And how do you all know that?" Django crossed his arms.

"Well…," Remy scratched the back of his head, Trevor coughed, and Miranda looked away. "We were able to observe them from a certain distance…," Remy managed to let out.

The old rat's eyes narrowed with anger and disappointment. "How close were all of you?" he hissed.

"Close enough," Remy crossed his arms.

The old rat gave his wayward son and his guests a hard look for a few moments. Afterwards he stood up and simply said, "Follow me. All of you."

The group of young rats all looked at each other nervously, but quietly obeyed. One by one they left the table and followed the older rat. Only Emile chose to stay behind. "If it's all the same," he called out, "I think I will just stay here."

The group sans Emile quietly followed the older rat through the sewer system. He was eerily quiet and gave off an aura that it would be wise if the younger rats kept their mouths shut. Needless to say, the whole trip was uncomfortable.

Finally, they reached the surface and crawled out of the gutter and onto the cobblestone street. It was night, and it was raining so hard that each rat got totally drench within seconds. Django slowly crawled onto the sidewalk. "We're here," he simply said and faced the store in front of him. The others followed suit and were shocked at the sight. They were in front of a pest exterminator; dead rats caught in rattraps were displayed on the front window like trophies of a great hunt. There were also bottles of rat poison with cartoonish pictures of rat skulls on the label. The young rats turned their heads away; Remy out of horror, the others out of disgust. The older rat said, "No, don't turn. Take a good long look. This is what happens when a rat gets a little too comfortable around humans. The world we live in belongs to the enemy. We must live very carefully; out of sight and with our heads down. We look out for own kind, young ones. When all is said and done, we're all we've got."

Both Trevor and Miranda looked at each other. They never stopped to consider the rat's point of view. While they silently wished that rats wouldn't live so close to people, they also realized that the rats were just trying to survive. The fear that these sentient rats must feel everyday… the humans had no idea.

"No," Remy said. "Dad, I don't believe it. You're telling me that the future can only be more of this?" he gestured to the window display without looking at it, "A never-ending cycle of hatred and misunderstanding?"

"This is the way things are," his father reminded him. "You can't change people's hearts, Remy. Not when they are steadfast as stone. That's the way it will always be. No one can change nature."

"But change is nature, dad. We can influence that change; nurture it. But only if we believe it can, and when we take that first step." He then turned and began to walk away.

"Where are you going?" he father called out.

"With luck, forward," Remy answered before continuing on his way.

His father slowly shook his head and sighed as he watched his son leave. He then turned to Trevor, Miranda, and Bonkers. "Watch out for my son," he said. "His head is in the clouds and that could get him killed. And you three watch yourselves; don't get carried away with my son's nonsense." With that, the old rat crawled back down into the sewers.

The three travelers looked at each other, and hugged themselves when a cold wind blew past them.

"I still don't like rats…," Miranda freely admitted, "but… I do feel sorry for Remy. I still can't get over the fact that a rat wants to cook."

"Yes, is his dream nothing but a mere pipe dream?" Trevor wondered aloud. "He is still only a rat and there's only so much he can do."

"Is that so?" said a mysterious voice from behind them. "I thought that your brief time as a rat would make you empathize with us; maybe even show us some respect. Woe to us rats, for we have always been persecuted for simply existing."

The group turned around and saw a tall rat glaring at them. From the start the keyblader knew that this rat didn't belong on this world. The rats on this world had a certain look about them: cartoonish eyes, bodies that were made to walk on all fours, and the fact that if someone would have made a plush toy based on Remy, Emile, or the others you wouldn't mind giving it to your child. The rat before them however, was a different story. Unlike the rats of this world he wore clothes, from pants, to a shirt and black overcoat, white gloves, and even sported some spectacles. His overall look wasn't as cartoonish as Remy, but was more align with what an actual rat would look like; though he does seem well groomed. Furthermore, his body was more anthropomorphized than the rats on this world. It would be very odd to see him walk on all fours instead of just using his legs. This rat was just too out of place to be ignored or past off as one of the other rats.

"You are not from this world," Trevor deduced.

"How very astute, Trevor," the rat bowed, "or should I call you Prince Trevor, one of the last keyblader royals?"

Everyone pulled out their weapons at pointed at the strange rat. "Who are you, and how do you know so much about me?"

"Forgive my matters," the tall rat began, "my name is Robert and I am a friend or at least I could be or would have been." He summoned his own keyblade, a blade called Forensic Scrutiny. It was a very sterile looking keyblade that was in the shape of a scalpel. A simple round metal band served as its guard and the blade part of the 'scalpel' protruded more than it should have which function as the 'teeth' of the keyblade. The keychain was made up of a tiny string of ball chain with a token in shape of an atom attached to it.

"As you can see I'm a keyblader just like you," Robert attempted to give a faux smile, but failed at every level.

Trevor didn't let his guard down. "So much about not breaking the world order," he snorted.

"Oh, I didn't break the world order so far," Robert defended himself. "You, however, are always meddling in the affairs of the denizens of the worlds. After all, who's helping Remy and getting into his affairs?"

"Touché," Trevor said and lowered his weapon. Miranda and Bonkers followed suit.

Robert dismissed his keyblade, wiped his face, turned around and looked at the city. "Beautiful, isn't it?" he began. "To be honest I don't care much for humans, but I do admire their ability to create and build. You humans have the ability and power to reshape the environment in your own image, or any other image you want. Because of that, it always makes me wonder why you humans consider artists not only the most creative people among you, but interrupters of beauty. In my option, the honor should go to the scientists, engineers, and architects. What more beautiful than making something that didn't exist before, building it with a functional purpose, and then having the people use it as they may?

"Think about it. Let's take the ever humble computer programmer. He wants to create an app, what does he do? He takes his idea that was sprung from his head, make plans and flowcharts, and then convert it into a pseudo-language so that the machine that the app will run on will function properly. You have to be oozing with creativity do all of that!

"The truth is that there are many different types of creativity; one of the mind, the other of the heart, in other words, the creativity of the hard sciences and the creativity of the liberal arts. I don't take too much stock on the creativity of the heart these days. Don't get me wrong; when it's done right it can be truly beautiful. But these days, the liberal arts seem to be tainted by people with no skill whatsoever, people who chose this route only because they don't want to do manual labor or they are too stupid to add five and five together.

"But listen to me rambling. What I mean to say is that I believe that you and I are a lot alike; we are men of the mind. Sad to said, that when I was observing you it seems that you are denying your nature."

"So, you have been spying on me?" Trevor gripped his keyblade tighter.

"I suppose that is one way of looking at things," the tall rat said. "Truth be told, I was only researching you to see if you could become a powerful ally. At first the results seem promising, but after a through review you fail to live up to you potential."

Trevor didn't like the idea of being 'researched,' even less about some weird stranger saying that he could be better. "Oh, and what's holding me back?" he snapped.

Robert adjusted his glasses before speaking. "Your problem is two-fold: one you don't think, two you really don't think.

"But this explanation is vague, isn't it? I do apologize, let me elaborate. First off let's be blunt, you don't give a damn about saving the universe do you?"

Trevor, Miranda, and Bonkers jumped back in shock of the tall rat's words.

"How can you say that?" Miranda protested. "Do you know how much all of us sacrificed to protect the various worlds?"

"We all of the battle scars to prove it," Bonkers nodded.

"Ah yes," Robert nodded. "Trevor battles for the safely of the worlds in deed, but neither in heart nor mind. In other words, his heart is not in it. Allow me to prove this by asking a simple question: Trevor, why do you want to save the universe?"

"What kind of question is that?" the keyblader snapped, "Because it's the right thing to do!"

"And why is it the right thing to do?"

Trevor was caught off guard by this question and stammered. "Because…. Because it just is!"

"In other words, you don't know, do you?" Robert deduced. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't you start this journey of yours in order to find and save your best friend Vincent? The whole 'saving-the-universe' part just fell in your lap along the way. It was something that the other keybladers and the people on Radiant Garden told you to do, without you questioning their motives."

"And why would I question their motives?" Trevor rebutted. "They're decent people and they truly want to bring peace to the worlds!"

"Ah, but at what cost? Tell me, have you heard of a group called SOLDIER?"

Trevor's mind flashed back to the time when a mysterious man in a wheelchair asked him to join his reorganized group.

The tall rat studied the keyblader's face. "I see that you that have some inkling of it. Do you know that the Senate of Radiant Garden is having a series of hearings to see if SOLDIER should become a universal force?"

"A universal force?" Miranda questioned.

"Yes," Robert nodded, "that means that Radiant Garden will have the power to have a military presence among the worlds and even station their warriors on worlds that are harmless to them or completely oblivious to the existence of other worlds."

Everybody was shocked. "You're… lying," Bonkers said at last. "As long as Leon is in charge that will never happen, he won't allow Radiant Garden to break the world order."

"You three place too much faith in that man," Robert scoffed. "Who do you think is overseeing the proceedings? And you three will get a kick out of this. He said if this bill passes there should be additional group called SeeD, where teens and young adults train to becomes strong, loyal warriors for SOLDIER."

"I don't believe it," Trevor shook his head. "Leon wouldn't do this."

"It doesn't matter if you don't believe it or not, what is true will always remain true. That is a perfect segue to my final option of you, Trevor; you bury your head in the sand and you would rather rush into situations head first without thinking about the entirely of the situation first.

"I've said before that you don't question the motives of those around you. Have you ever questioned the motive of the 'villains,'" the tall rat used air quotes, "you have fought?"

"Why would I do that?!" Trevor snapped. "People like Prince Zuko and Davy Jones were hurting innocent people! That's all the motive that I need!"

Robert shook his head in disgust. "All the motive you need, huh?" he mocked. "Then you don't know the back-story of Prince Zuko." He sighed and readjusted his glasses. "Do you know how he got that burn on his face? His own father did it to him when he accidently dishonored him in front of his court and then he was banished. The only way he can reclaim his honor and his father's favor is to capture the Avatar. That is why he did the things he did. He didn't just rolled out of bed one morning and decided to attack the Southern Water Tribe for no good reason. Zuko wasn't the villain that you make him out to be; he's just like the most of us, a slave to circumstances. And from his point of view, you three were the villains for interfering with his plans to restore his honor."

"You make it sound like morality is all relative," Miranda said.

Robert chuckled to himself. "In some sense, that is true especially when you compare two different ideologies or the values of the same ideology from different moments in history. Don't get me wrong, there are acts of definite good or evil that cannot be disputed. However, there is that gray area and it only exist because life is far more complicated than people give it credit. One person's sinner is another person's redeemer. One group's heretic is another group's savior. That is why one always has to question the motives of those around them. Just because they put on a friendly face and said something flattering to you doesn't mean that they have your best interest in mind."

"By your statements, I shouldn't even trust you," Trevor remarked.

The tall rat smirked. "Now, you're getting the picture. I'm just a stranger to you. Granted, from my perspective I'm only trying to help you; trying to help you avoid any more pitfalls."

Trevor looked down for a moment and thought about the situation. "Well… some of things you said made sense…"

Robert had slapped his forehead and sharply sucked in a breath. "This is what I was talking about; you don't think! You just take everything at face value! Why do you keep doing this? Do you get a kick out of striving to become more dim-witted than you actually are supposed to be?!"

"Give me one good example," the keyblader fumed.

"Oh, I can give you several," Robert began. "A blonde woman and a cartoon bobcat appear out of nowhere claiming they were searching for you under the orders of a king. You had no problem accepting that. A mysterious witch shows up at the right time when you were being attack by the Heartless for the first time and offers to grant you a wish and not once did you ever questioned why did she sought you out. A man named Leon wishes to send you, a young man with, as far as he knows, no combat or military training to join forces with teenagers to save the universe from unknown evils while he, a grown man, sits on his buttocks on Radiant Garden. You made a deal with Maleficent thinking, 'this can't go wrong,' and now you are obligated to help her find and conquer a castle. And of course, let's not forget your recent decision. A muscle-bound duck who claims to be stuck in Dimensional Limbo somehow survives for over a decade without food or water appears to you and needs your help finding a world that may not exist. What do you say? 'Sure, sounds legit!'

"Everyone has a motive, Trevor; everything we do has a motive! Whether that motive is beneficial to someone or not is another matter all together. I see from your face that you don't quite understand. Let me give you several more examples then. A man gives his girlfriend a Valentine Day present, why does he do it? Does he do it out of the kindness of his heart? Because he loves her? On the surface perhaps, but if you dig a little deeper, his motive is plain and simple; he doesn't want his girlfriend to leave him. Why does a doctor tend to take care of his patients so well? Sure, maybe truly wants to help people, but in reality, if you look deeper within their heart, you will find that the person only wants to be a doctor because the job fits in their world view on what it means to be successful. The paycheck and the status in the community help greatly as well. A man becomes a detective, because something horrible happened to his parents when he was a child. Does he become a cop to keep his community safe? Of course, but deep down I bet you will find that he only became a detective as a sort of penance for not being strong enough to protect his parents or himself when he was little."

"You make it sound that every kind act that anyone can do is motivated by selfish reasons," Miranda spoke up.

"Exactly!" Robert pointed at her. "We are all selfish beings, whether we are rats or humans. But being selfish isn't always a bad thing. Wanting to improve yourself, wanting to become a better person, is of itself a selfish act in a sense. No one does anything without a reward at the end of the road. Whether that reward is happiness, more friends, a lover, entry to heaven, a longer life, or a number of other possibilities; we all desire something, we all have a dream that we want to fulfill. And until you wake up from your nice daydream about the universe being just black and white… your chance to fulfill your personal dream will slip through your fingers." Robert then turned and walked away.

"Wait," the keyblader stopped him. "If that is true, then what is your dream? What do you wish to be fulfilled?"

"My dream?" Robert looked up at the dark sky as raindrops continued to pour down and assault his face. "I dream of a world… nay, a universe where I don't have to be afraid to be what I am." The mysterious rat walked away, but not before flashing a quick despiteful smirk.

Trevor shrived in the pouring rain as the sound of thunder rolls across the sky.

Miranda put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Don't listen to him," she said. "He was just messing with our heads."

"Still….," Trevor wondered out loud. "I hate to admit it, but he did make some good points…. I do take everything at face value, do I?"

"You're only human," Miranda said as they walked down the sidewalk away from the exterminators. "Besides I don't trust that rat. There's something shady about him."

"I know what you mean," the keyblader agreed. "It was also creepy how he knew everything about us. We should be careful from now on; who knows who could be watching."

The three travelers continued to walk in silence as they pondered Robert's words. They hastily tried to make their way to Gusteau's trying to avoid any passing human's gaze. After scampering about for several minutes they finally found Remy walking in front of a café. "Remy!" they called out to him and rushed over.

Unfortunately for them, a woman was walking out of the café when she heard their squeaks. She looked down and saw the four rodents scuttling about. She let out a huge scream and started tossing various items from her purse in an attempt to get rid of the creatures.

The four rodents quickly leaped into the street and dash into a storm drain to escape the onslaught. "Filthy creatures," the woman sneered and shuttered as she opened out her umbrella and quickly sprinted across the street.

"Well, that was close," Trevor panted and slumped down.

"Perhaps we should stop while we are ahead, Remy," Miranda said. "It's getting too dangerous for us. We're already too close to the humans. Perhaps you should do as your father says and go back to the colony."

Remy looked down for a moment before slowly shaking his head. "No," he said defiantly, "Cooking is my dream and I refuse to give it up. I can't change what's in my heart and as long as my dream is in my heart I will continue to follow it."

Bonkers wiped a sentimental tear from his eye deeply moved by the blue rat's words, Trevor reluctantly sighed while Miranda just threw her arms in the air. "I guess this means that we all going to get killed," the blonde lamented.

"Boy, you have been a real downer ever since we got here," the keyblader spoke with Miranda.

"Well, when you're transformed into a rat living in a world where everything wants to kill you, your perspective tends to become a touch darker," she scoffed.

KH-KH-KH

Robert walked in a nearby alley going over in his mind what needed to be done next. He wasn't alone in the alley, Nerela wasn't there waiting for him.

"You know, you're kinda cute when you're that small," she laughed with her arms folded.

"Shut up," the rat scientist said and snapped his fingers. A cloud of darkness consumed him and he disappeared for a moment. In the next moment a larger dark cloud appeared and a human-sized Robert emerged. "My normal size is nothing to make fun of."

Nerela shrugged the comment off. "Whatever you say. What about our issue with Trevor?"

"To break a man's spirit you must cast doubt. To cast doubt you must tell the truth in such a way that makes him question everything he believes in. I think I've succeed in all levels of doing so. All we need now is time." Robert then reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a gadget that looked like a TV remote control. "But let's try something out first…," he flashed the woman a wicked grin. "You always wanted to see the sleeper cell protocol in action, haven't you Nerela? Care for a test run?"

Nerela's eyes narrowed as she let a wide nefarious smile blaze across her face. "Like you needed to ask."

KH-KH-KH

The four rats managed to make their way back to Gusteau's. They were surprised to see no one there, but then again it was early in the morning. "The kitchen looks so spotless," Trevor remarked. "I guess Linguini had to clean top to bottom last night."

"We should have gone to his apartment instead of coming here," remarked Miranda. "Coming here without him doesn't seem right. I mean, if someone see us we're good as dead; again!"

"Oh, don't worry Miranda, the other chefs won't be here until later," Trevor waved off her concern while scampering across the kitchen. "Now we get to explore this restaurant without consequence." He stopped right in front of the head chef's office door. "Help me open this door, you guys."

As Remy and Bonkers helped the keyblader open the door, Miranda stay back and shook her head. "I really don't like this…"

Nevertheless the entire group entered Chef Skinner's office. It wasn't long before they climb on his desk and started riffling through the head chef's personal effects. "I never knew that running a restaurant can be so complicated," Trevor said aloud as he went through a stack of papers. There's were orders of various food products placed months in advance, invoices, payments on banks loans, a letter from the department of health…; the list goes on.

Suddenly by pure accident, the keyblader came across an old piece of paper that looked like it was torn from a book. He quickly skimmed the contents and came to a realization on what he has found. "Hey Bonkers, get over here! I found another missing page of the book that Milo gave us!" The cartoon bobcat whipped out the book and slammed it open on the desk. Trevor then took the page and placed it in the book. The missing page then magically fused itself in its proper place within the novel.

"Guys! Take a look at this!" Remy called out to them. Trevor, Miranda, and Bonkers rushed over to the blue rat to see what was the matter. Remy showed them a letter from Linguini's mother to Chef Skinner that states that Linguini is in fact Gusteau's son. Then Remy showed them another piece of paper that states that if Gusteau has an heir then the ownership of the restaurant will be transferred over to them.

"Wait a minute," Bonkers trying to put two and two together. "Are you telling us that… Wait, what are you telling us?"

"That Linguini is the rightful owner of Gusteau's," Trevor sighed. "And Skinner knew all of this time, but hasn't relinquished ownership of the restaurant. He has been hiding all of this from Linguini!"

Remy grabbed and folded the two pieces of paper. "We have to give this to him and fast!"

"Show who what?" The group turned around and saw Emile staring up at them from the floor.

Remy peek his head over the edge of the desk and was flabbergasted to see his brother. "Emile, what are you doing here?"

The fat brown rat let out an uncharacteristically dark chuckle. "I came to challenge your new friends to a fight, of course."

"A fight?" Miranda questioned not believing a word of it. "Why would you want to fight us?"

Emile just laughed wickedly as his eyes began to glow red. He outstretched his right hand and much to everyone's surprise summoned a dark keyblade.

"Why not for fun?" With that Emile launched a Dark Fira at the group.

Trevor, Miranda, and Bonkers jumped off the desk to avoid the spell and readied their weapons. "Emile, whatever it is that you are trying to do, please stop," Trevor pleaded.

For a second, Emile's eyes turned back to normal, but his face was contorted and filled with pain. "I'm sorry guys, I can't help myself. P-p-please help me… It's like there's something in my…" He clutched his head. "Arrrrggggghhh!" His eyes went red again and the wicked smile spread across his face again.

Trevor sighed, "Looks like we have no choice."

"Trevor," Remy called out. "Don't hurt my brother! He's not himself!"

The keyblader then blocked an attack from Emile. "No kidding," Trevor sneered. He pushed the fat rat off of him and charged for an attack.

Emile then waved his keyblade and several robotic cylinder drones appeared around him.

"That's a new one," Trevor scratched his head. Emile snapped his fingers and the cylinder drones started firing lasers at the group. "That's definitely a new one!" the keyblader ran escaping the onslaught.

The office quickly became a futuristic firing range with the lasers aiming at, and scattering, Trevor and his friends.

"You're not getting away that easy!" Emile yelled as dark energy seeped from him. The rat used this expelled energy and launched it in a wave aimed at Trevor.

Trevor dodged and fired off a Thundaga. Before the spell could hit one of the floating cylinder canons got in the way and shielded its master from the attack.

With a wave of his keyblade, Emile caused the canons to float even higher and rain terror from above.

It was very difficult for the three warriors to dodge the raining lasers. Trevor has been hit several times, Bonkers' tail caught on fire, and Miranda faired the best though she was hit on the left shoulder. The three of them knew they were sitting ducks separate, they instinctively tried to regroup; they took many hits in doing so, but still they pressed on. After taking multiple hits they came together and faced back-to-back-to-back. With amazing speed they used their weapons to block and reflect every tossed at them. Many of the deflected lasers hit and destroyed many of the canons. For the remaining canons Trevor and Bonkers pooled their mana together and unleashed one powerful Limit Breaker spell.

"Limit Breaker: Thundaga Fury!" both the keyblader and the bobcat shouted. Streams of lightning rained above them wiping out all of the remaining canons.

Emile growled in frustration, "Why won't you guys just go away?!" He launched another wave of dark energy at the group.

The group was ready for this; this wasn't their first rodeo. "Trinity Limit: Reflectga!" A magic green shield made from runes and geometrical symbols surrounded them and reflected the attack right back at Emile.

"Grrrrgh!" Emile wheezed as he double over.

"Dispel!" Bonkers cast and a magic seal appear beneath Emile. The seal began to glow and dark mana began to expel from the fat rat.

Emile's eyes returned to normal as the last bit of evil energy left his body. He dropped his keyblade and soon as it touched the ground it shattered and the pieces crumbled into dust. "I'm sorry…," Emile was only able to say. "I'm sorry…"

The fighting trio, now joined by Remy, rushed over to Emile, but they were still cautious. "Emile!" Remy grabbed his brother, "What happened to you?! Why did you attack us?!"

"…I don't know…," Emile held his head in his hands in anguish. "When you guys left the colony, I got mad… Remy, you were always chasing after your dreams and doing whatever you want and that always got us into trouble. The last time you did that almost got us killed and the colony had to move. Now you're going further than you ever gone before and you're doing this with some very strange rats. No offensive," he said to Trevor, Miranda, and Bonkers. The three just shrugged understanding what he meant. "I'm scared that something bad is going to happen, something worse than before…

"I am afraid that I'll lose you and I'm angry that you can't see that. I felt my anger build and build until I couldn't control myself. And then it took over."

"Emile… I never knew…," Remy said crestfallen.

"Emile, this is important," Trevor interrupted. "Who gave you that weapon? Who passed you the power of the keyblade?"

"I don't know," Emile confessed. "I thought that power was my own. But the strange thing is…" He held out his hand and concentrated, but nothing happened. "I can no longer feel the power… It's like I never had the power to begin with."

"I never heard of this happening before," the keyblader rubbed his chin lost in thought. "The power of the keyblade doesn't just pop up in a person and then leave just as quickly."

"This is not good," Miranda stated the obvious. "It could be anyone: your brother, Derrick, that Robert guy… It's like Zeke and Mortimer all over again…"

"You're right…," Trevor nodded. "We need to find out who's doing this and fast."

"Emile," Remy spoke, "I'm sorry that I made you worry… all the way to the point of anger. This is going to sound selfish, but you need to understand that I need to live my own life. I just have to follow my heart. It's not that I hate living in the colony, it's just that… I want something more; I want more out of life. I want to be apart of a world much larger than the colony. I want to leave my mark on world… and do it while being myself.

"I don't know how to explain this. How can I put my feeling and urges to words, especially when these desires feel so natural to me, but so completely foreign and strange to you? The only thing I can add is… that I have to see this through to the end. I can't live my wondering 'what if?' If everything hits the fan, if everything in the world is like what my dad says, then I know that I have you and the colony to fall back on. But just to let you know, I'm not going to give up on this dream easy. Even if this world knocks me down I'm only going to get right back up. I will become a chef one way or another." Remy smiled at his brother. "You can count on it."

Emile smiled back at Remy. "You're right I still don't get it. Why would a rat want to become anything more than a rat? But now I understand that this is important to you. I'll be cheering for you from the sidelines. I don't know about dad…"

Remy rolled his eyes. "I'll be lucky if dad gave it a passing thought."

KH-KH-KH

"Well, that test was useful," Robert said to Nerela as they stood on a rooftop overlooking Gusteau's. They were looking at a device capable of displaying holographic images. They were secretly monitoring Emile and his battle. The rat scientist took out another device and pushed a few buttons. "There, I've locked away the power of the keyblade and the darkness deep inside Emile's heart. He's good as normal now; that is, until we need him again." He put the devices away and pulled out a tablet and rapidly began to type notes. "I need to make some adjustments to our sleeper cell program. The darkness within the sleeper agent's heart dispels too quickly. I need to find a way to prevent the excess darkness from 'leaking' out of the heart. Maybe…"

Nerela rolled her eyes. "Can you do this at the hideout? We're practically sitting ducks out here."

The rat scientist sighted and turned off his tablet. "You're right. Besides, Nina Sharp needs my help for the finishing touches for the machine that we are building together." Robert snapped his fingers and a dark corridor appeared. "Our business on this world is done."

KH-KH-KH

Remy, Trevor, and the others gave Linguini the proof that he's Gusteau's rightful heir and over the next few days he became the owner and head chef of the restaurant. By playing puppet to Remy's puppet master they slowly gain rave reviews from the city's major food critics. It wasn't long before they regain a star becoming a four-star restaurant. Gusteau's became popular again. They were on their way to becoming a five-star restaurant again.

This comeback story gain mass media attention, so it was no surprise when several news stations came to the restaurant to interview Linguini; who everyone thought as a prodigy.

"Linguini, how did you knew that you were Gusteau's son?" one reporter asked as several photographers took his picture.

"I don't know," Linguini shrugged sheepishly. "I guess a part of me just knew… you know the Gusteau part of me."

The press ate that up; Linguini was a genius and modest, a rare combination. Remy was under Linguini's toque soaking everything in as if he was being interviewed. All of this is happening because of him and his natural talent. All he had to do is follow his heart and put in the hard work necessary to make his dream come true. Before the little chef could bask in any more glory, the front door to the restaurant opened and a cold chill blew in.

A ghastly thin older man strolled in as if the wind was merely as harbinger for his arrival. With a melancholy pale face and dressed in all back he looked like a vampire who recently risen from his grave. Complete and utter silence fell in the room. Everyone knew who this man was. The man was no other than Anton Ego, the world's most famous, and toughest, food critic. As he moved to the back of the room the crowd parted like the Red Sea did for Moses. Not one reporter uttered a sound as Ego strolled up and looked down on Linguini. "My dear boy," Ego lean in while rolling his words in his mouth as if he was bored, "fetch me the head chef. I would like to speak with him."

"But… I-I'm the head chef," Linguini weakly answered.

"You?" Ego questioned leaning in causing Linguini to shrink back. Even Remy flinched though he knew that remark was aimed at Linguini and not him. Anton Ego looked at the skinny red-headed chef sizing him up. "Aren't you a little young to be a rising star in the culinary arts?"

Linguini struggled to think of a comeback. "Uh… well… you're skinny for some guy who claims to like food!"

Everyone grasp at the young chef's audacity, even Ego seemed taken aback. He quickly salvaged his composure and said, "I don't like food, I love it. If I don't love what I am eating then I spit it out." He readjusted his black jacket before continuing. "It has come to my attention that you have been cheating, Mr. Linguini."

Linguini tugged on his collar nervously. "What do you mean by cheating?"

"I mean that you have been playing without an opponent and that's against the rules. You seem to be a tad slow, so I'll explain this to you. I am going to be your opponent tomorrow evening and I'm going to pick apart every single ingredient in any dish you throw at me. And I will prove that the revival of Gusteau's is just a silly fad that deserves to be crush to pieces and grind into dust then scattered into the four winds. In other words, Mr. Linguini, 'Hit me with your best shot.'"

"Oh I will!" Linguini began to assert himself.

"See to it that you do. Especially since that I find it hard to believe that you achieved all of this success by yourself."

"Of course I did it by myself," Linguini claimed.

When Remy heard this he was shocked. Linguini was taking credit for his hard work! He's the true chef; Linguini was just an instrument, a tool for him to work in conventional human society. In a fit of rage he began to protest under the toque.

Linguini heard his partner's squeaks of protests and pulled down on his toque hoping that no one would hear the squeaks from within it. "…In fact," the young man continued to boast, "Your meal here will be the best meal that you ever had in your life!" As soon as those words left his lips, Linguini's eyes widen and quickly he realized that he may have sealed his fate; his horrible doomed fate.

Anton Ego's face slowly spread into a smirk as if he won the war already, but it quickly disappeared. "Such words can only be uttered by a foolish child or a chef who has tremendous pride in their work. But alas, you know what they say about pride, do you? It always comes before a fall." With that, the food critic turned on his heels and walked out of the restaurant.

All of the reporters were shocked. The gauntlet has been thrown, the challenge has been made, and now all it is a matter of time to see if Head Chef Linguini can back up his claim.

Lucky for the young man, Collette rescued him before any of the journalists could pounce on him and demand statements over what just happened. "Sorry to be so rude, but we're French and it's dinner time." She then grabbed Linguini by the collar and began to drag him away.

"She means it's time for dinner and we're French," Linguini tried to tell the reporters as he was whisked away to the kitchen.

"What were you thinking?" Collette whispered into Linguini's ear when they were safe in the kitchen.

"I wasn't," the young man confessed.

KH-KH-KH

In the small alley behind the restaurant, Trevor and the others stood guard waiting for a Heartless to rear its ugly head. The back door opened and Linguini angrily sat Remy down next to them.

"You need to cool off, little chef," the young man told the rat. "Remember it's only because of me that you are able to do the things you want to do. With Ego coming I have a lot to think about; and worry." Linguini then headed back into the restaurant and slammed the door behind him.

"What was that all about?" Bonkers inquired.

"Linguini is taking credit for my work! Can you believe it?!" Remy fumed. "Without me he would have never been head chef or elevated that restaurant to four stars, let alone own it!"

"You mean you weren't expecting this?" Trevor said somewhat surprised. "I mean it's not like you can take the credit. No one is going to believe that a rat can cook."

"I know, but it shouldn't matter," Remy clinched his fists. "The world shouldn't be this way. Gusteau famously said that anyone can cook, why not I? Why can't people believe that statement to the fullest? All of these loops I have to jump though, but if Linguini does it he only has to jump through one?!" Remy grunted in frustration. "I'm taking a walk guys, don't bother me."

Trevor was about to go after Remy, but Miranda held him back. "No," she said. "Remy needs to figure this out on his own."

The keyblader sighed and reluctantly agreed with the blonde cop. "Yes, all he needs is time."

Some time passed and the restaurant closed for the night. Remy still haven't gotten back and Trevor was getting worried. Finally there was a rustling and Remy came back with the whole colony following behind him.

"Remy, what's going on?" the keyblader questioned as the rats began to storm the restaurant.

"What do you think I'm doing? I'm helping the colony raid the restaurant. If Linguini thinks we are nothing more than rats then I'm going to show him what rats can really do!"

"So you're trying to prove that you're not a stereotype by acting exactly like a stereotype? Remy, that doesn't make any sense. In fact, its way beyond counter productive," Miranda said.

"I don't care," Remy said in anger. "If Linguini thinks he can do this all by himself let's see how well he does when he has to start back at square one."

"Remy, can't you see that you're throwing everything you wanted away?" Trevor said shocked. "I know that you are upset, heck, so would I if I was in your shoes. But Remy some things just can not be. Like it or not Linguini has to be the one who takes credit. In this world, a rat cannot be a chef. Nobody is going to allow that."

"So you agree with my father?" Remy said shaking with rage. "If what you say is true, then what's the point of even trying?" he turned around and joined the rest of the colony.

"No Remy!" Trevor pleaded but it was too late. He, Miranda, and Bonkers couldn't stop the rats from raiding the kitchen. Nearly everything was being devoured on site; especially in the food storage. The infestation begun and the rats thought they were in heaven. It beats digging around in garbage dumps.

Everything was going swimming for the rats until they heard a key turning outside the kitchen door. First all of the rats froze, but thinking quickly they scampered into the shadows. The door opened and Linguini peeked in. "Little chef, are you in here?" Remy, Trevor, Miranda, and Bonkers slowly stepped forward into the lit area of the kitchen. "Oh, there you are!" Linguini said relieved. "And your friends that protects the restaurant are also here," he said referring to the three warriors. The young man got on his knee so he can talk to his rat friends. "I want to apologize to you guys, especially you little chef," he began. "You have all done so much to help me and this restaurant. Every ounce of praise those reporters gave, they were for you, little chef, not me. I mean a lot has happen over the last few days. Now that I am a Gusteau, everyone expects me to be a Gusteau and I'm not used to that because no one expected anything from me before. We wouldn't have gotten this far without you. And now we gain the attention of Anton Ego, the world's toughest food critic. With your guidance I just know that we can knock his socks off. What do you say, little chef? Are you with me?" Linguini extended his hand.

Needless to say, Remy was swamped with guilt. Lightheaded and confused he turned to Trevor, Miranda, and Bonkers for support, but they all bore an 'I-told-you-so' look. The rat chef reluctantly walked over and grabbed Linguini's hand, hoping to god the young man doesn't notice the other rats.

Linguini was happy that his friend forgave him. "Thanks little chef. Now to impress Ego we need to have a game plan. Do chefs even make game plans?" He stood up and turned on the lights; he immediately regretted it. Thousands of scared little eyes stared back at him attached to furry tiny bodies. "Rats!" he screamed and the plague of rodents flowed onto the kitchen floor and poured out the door. He grabbed a broom and began the sweep the reminder of rats out of the kitchen.

Trevor, Remy, Miranda, and Bonkers were swept away with the other rats and were knocked down on the cold cobblestone alley behind the kitchen. The other rats scurry past them in blind fear desperate to get out. By the time our four heroes could pick themselves up, the colony was gone and Linguini towered before.

"I can't believe you betrayed me like this," Linguini said filled with hurt. "Was that all I am to you guys, a free meal ticket? I thought we were in this together." The young man's fists shook with rage. "Out! All of you, out!" He swung the broom over their heads causing the four rats dash into the streets. "And don't come back or I'll treat you like restaurants treat pests!" Linguini shouted after them.

Remy swore the sound of Linguini slamming the door was the same sound as his dreams shattering before his eyes. All of his hopes were scattering across the four winds and the only person he can blame is himself.

The keyblader put his paw on Remy's shoulder. "Remy… I'm sorry, but it just wasn't meant to be. A rat simply can't become a chef."

"Maybe you're right," Remy said crestfallen. "We're just rats. Who am I to fight against nature?" He turned to leave. "Well, when Linguini leaves you can tell the colony that they can come back and take all they want."

"Remy, where're ya going?" Bonkers inquired as the blue fur rat slowly walked away.

"I've lost my appetite," Remy simply stated before disappearing into the darkness.

KH-KH-KH

It was the big night and all of the chefs at Gusteau's were busier than ever. Every chef was pestering Linguini on the recipes of several dishes.

"What do you mean you don't know? They're your recipes!" one of the chefs pestered the young head chef.

"I-I don't know…," Linguini stammered. "Tell… tell them that we're fresh out."

"We can't be fresh out, we just opened!" said another chef.

"Well, tell them to order something else."

"They don't want anything else, they want your specials. Just tell us how to make the dishes!"

Linguini was over his head; he didn't know what he was doing. Remy was the real chef and he was just the rat's human "beard." Completely overwhelm by the situation, the stress, and that he's alone in this endeavor he ran screaming in his office and slammed the door.

KH-KH-KH

Anton Ego sat glumly at one of the many tables at Gusteau's. He observed that the restaurant was packed. 'No doubt that there because the rabble has no sense of taste,' he smugly thought to himself as he passively glanced over the menu. A portly waiter waddled nervously toward his direction, obviously putting on a brave face, but failing at all levels.

"A-Are you ready to order, monsieur?" the waiter managed to get out.

"Yes," Ego began, "I was looking your menu over and do you know what I am craving? Perspective, yes, that's what I'm craving; a little perspective. What wine would you suggest that would complement the meal?"

"Eh?"

"Fresh out of perspective? No surprise there. No one is this bloody town seems to have any. Then how about this, you provide the food and I will provide the perspective."

"Eh, monsieur, your order?…"

Upset that the waiter didn't understood his little bon mot, Ego stood up and gave his request in plain French. "Go back and tell your so-called chef that I can take whatever he can dish at me."

The waiter nodded rapidly and nervously shuffled into the kitchen.

KH-KH-KH

Having no where else to go, Trevor, Bonkers, and Miranda was on top of the glass ceiling at Gusteau's.

"They opened three hours ago and not a single order has been completed," Bonkers said in amazement.

"Don't worry, the costumers are French," Trevor stated, "They're use to waiting six hours just to get a glass of water."

"I don't know why we're still here," Miranda complained. "Let's leave this world; I don't want to be in this rat form any longer than I have to be."

"We still haven't found this world's keyhole yet," the keyblader sighed. "We can't leave until I locked it, and I have a feeling that it's somewhere in this restaurant."

"I can't believe this," the blonde cop huffed. "I can't believe we're still hanging around this restaurant."

"That makes two of us…" The three of them turned around and saw Remy staring glumly at them.

"Remy!" the three warriors said in shock. "What are you doing back here?" Trevor asked. "After everything that has happened we thought that you wouldn't come back."

"So did I," Remy said, "but seeing how I made a mess of things I figured that maybe I can find a way to clean it up."

"Well, it's not going well," the keyblader stated. "Gusteau's just opened and already Linguini locked himself in his office."

"I can't believe this," Remy lamented.

"There's nothing you can do," Miranda tried to comfort the rat. "You are just a rat and this situation is just bigger than you."

Remy pound his fists in anger and rage. "I hate this; having to pretend to be a rat for my dad, a human for Linguini. Why do I have to pretend?! I know who I am!"

"If you know who you are, then why do you care what the world thinks of you?" Bonkers questioned. The three of them stared at the cartoon bobcat. "If you want to be a chef, then just be a chef."

"But Remy can't do that," the keyblader said.

"Some things just aren't possible, Bonkers," Miranda chimed in. "It was a nice dream, but it can't come true."

"Why not?" the cartoon bobcat shrugged, "I mean how many impossible things we did since beginning our journey together? Why can't Remy do the same?"

Trevor and Miranda looked at each other agape. They never thought of it that way. And yet something held them back; they couldn't see a rat becoming a chef. The very notion flew in the face of what they always believed to be true. But why was that? They have fought alongside a crime-fighter duck haven't they? They have visited a dimension filled with monsters haven't they? They have seen an ogre and a princess fall in love haven't they? So what was so strange, so forbidden, about a rat becoming a chef? The both of them sat in silence to ponder this.

Finally, Trevor got up, went over to Remy, and said, "Remy, you don't have to pretend. You never did."

Remy smiled and scampered off to the backdoor of the kitchen.

"Remy, where you're going?!" the keyblader called out.

"I'm going to help Linguini," the little chef answered back.

"Why?" Miranda called out not quite ready to accept the fact that a rat wants to cook.

"Because I'm a chef!" the rat responded.

KH-KH-KH

Meanwhile back in the kitchen, the chefs were desperately trying to duplicate Linguini's recipes. When Remy entered none of them noticed him at first, but they all froze when they did. "A rat!" one of them screamed and all the chefs grabbed a knife or anything they can get their hands on and rushed toward the frighten rat. Before any of them could reach the rat Linguini ran over and stood in their way.

"Wait, don't hurt him!" the head chef protected the rat. The other chefs watched in confusion as Linguini picked up Remy and said, "Thank you for coming back, Little Chef." He turned to the others and said, "I know this will sound insane, but, well, the truth sounds insane sometimes; but that doesn't mean it's not. Eh, the truth I mean. And the truth is that I have no talent at all, but this rat, he's the one behind all of the recipes. He's the cook; the real cook. He's been hiding under my toque and was controlling my actions."

Linguini placed Remy on his head and the little chef pulled a few strains of hair causing the young man's arms to involuntary move. All of the chefs and waiters gasped in amazement; they couldn't believe that the young man's crazy ramblings were true.

"He's the reason I can cook the food that's exciting everyone; the reason why Anton Ego is in this restaurant right now. And you have been giving me credit for his gift. I know it's a hard thing to believe, but yeah, you believe that I can cook, right? Look, this works. It's crazy, but it works. We can be the greatest restaurant in Paris, and this rat, this brilliant Little Chef, can take us there. What do you say? Are you with me?"

The chefs and the waiters all looked at each other and one by one they left through the back door. Some of them felt betrayed, others thought that the young man was crazy. Colette was the only chef left, heart heavy and eyes filled with hurt. She raised her hand to slap Linguini, but quickly decided that it wasn't worth it and stormed out.

Remy and Linguini was alone; well, almost alone. Trevor, Miranda, and Bonkers entered when Colette left. The blonde cop and the keyblader looked at each other knowing that something like this would happen. Linguini sat Remy down, sighed, and walked back into his office defeated. Remy however, wasn't so deterred.

"We're not beaten yet," the little chef said. "You three know the way back to the colony, right?"

"Yeah," Trevor said.

"I want you to go back and bring the whole colony here. We will save this restaurant."

KH-KH-KH

Thankfully it wasn't long before Trevor and the others brought back the whole colony. Soon the whole kitchen was covered with rats, even Remy's father was there much to the little chef's surprise.

"Dad, what are you doing here?"

"Was what Trevor said was true?" Django questioned bluntly. "Did you really stand up against the humans?"

Remy nodded embarrassedly. "Well… yeah…"

"Well I can't say that I agree with you or your dream, but what you just did, that took guts. If this means that much to you… well, I can respect that. You needed help, so we came runnin'. We don't know anything about cooking, but tell us what to do and we'll do it."

Remy's heart swelled with joy, but there wasn't any time for that, time was against them. "First we need get you guys clean and then divide you into teams. Let's go people! Our customers have been waiting longer than they should!"

Linguini heard the rustling outside his office and peak out the door. What he saw only surprised him a little bit; a kitchen full of rats cooking French cuisine under the direction of Remy. Seeing that the rats are dong everything in their power, he knew that the least he could do is wait tables. He quickly put on a waiter outfit that would fit him and some roller skates. Linguini zipped around the dinning area refilling wine glasses and delivering appetizers. The young man constantly apologized for the food being late and ensured the patrons that there won't be any more delays.

The costumers thought it was droll seeing a waiter on skates, but they took it all in a stride as they took up conversation with each other and soaked up the atmosphere. The only one who raised an eyebrow was Anton Ego, who jotted down a quick note in his notebook.

KH-KH-KH

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, all of the rats were doing a great job cooking under Remy's guidance. But sudden a dark portal appeared in the middle of the kitchen floor. A Heartless slowly stepped out of the portal and raised its weapons. The Heartless was only 22 inches tall, but to a rat's perspective it might as well as be a giant. It was cloaked in a deep purple chef uniform and a tall toque. It doesn't appear to have legs; instead it hovers above the ground by a couple of centimeters. Its weapons are a frying pan and a large steak knife both sporting the Heartless emblem on them.

"A Heartless, in the kitchen?!" Trevor said in shocked as he summoned his keyblade.

"Trevor, take care of it," Remy ordered him. "We can't allow it to interfere with our cooking!"

"We're on it!" the keyblader chimed in as he and Miranda and Bonkers intercepted the Heartless.

The Quick-Order Chef Heartless shook it frying pan and the inside of it was set ablaze. With a quick movement like it was flipping a pancake several fireballs leapt out of the pan and rained down on our heroes.

The fire rained down in such rapid succession that our heroes couldn't dodge all of them. Fighting through the pain, Trevor jumps up and attempts to slash the Heartless. The Chef Heartless avoided the attack by floating backwards, then raised its knife, and brought it down. The keyblader blocked it and fired off a Thundaga spell.

The Heartless blocked the spell with the frying pan. It brought its arms down and several pillars of fire erupted around it, protecting it from other attacks. With another gesture from its hands all of the fire pillars were launched toward the three warriors.

The three heroes were blown back by the flames and landed several feet from the monster. Recovering quickly, Bonkers got right back up and fired a Blizzaga spell.

The Heartless tried to block the spell, but couldn't completely. The spell still managed to hit its left side.

"Miranda now is our chance!" Trevor yelled.

"Right!" she answered running alongside him.

"Limit Breaker: X-Slash!" Trevor preformed an upward slash to the left while Miranda intersect and did one to the right forming an X pattern. The Heartless staggered backwards for a bit, before slamming its pan to the ground causing a wave of fire to swept along the kitchen floor.

"NullBlaze!" Bonkers cast as a red barrier engulfed the party members and shielded them from the flames.

"This thing won't let up," the keyblader complained.

"It's these forms that we're in," Miranda explained. "As rats we're not that powerful at all. If only if we were in our original forms, this would be easy."

"Well, that can't be helped. We have to make do with what we got."

The Chef Heartless raised its knife and charged at Miranda. The blonde swordswoman blocked the attack and performed her counterattack. "Know Thy Enemy!" She pushed back the knife, jump up, and brought her katana squarely on the Heartless' head. The monster writhed back in pain, but Miranda didn't let up. Even in her rat form she was still a force to reckon with. "Mineuchi!" she cried as she the creature with the dull side of her blade. "There, it's stun! Somebody do something!"

Bonkers quickly cast Blizzaga again and it was a successful hit causing the Heartless to stumble backwards.

Seizing the opportunity, Trevor jumped up and plunged his keyblade into the monster. The Chef Heartless slowly faded away and its crystal-like heart was released. Our heroes won the battle!

Shortly after the epic battle in the kitchen, the back door opened and Colette with her eyes closed, rubbing her temples cursing at herself while wondering why she even bothered coming back. When she opened her eyes she wished she hadn't. The sight of hundreds of rats covering the kitchen, handling food made her physically ill. Every fiber of her very being screamed at her; telling her to run. She almost did, but Linguini saw her and called out.

"Colette!" the young man said relieved and rushed over to give her a quick hug. "I'm so glad that you are here! As you can see—"

Colette raised her hand to silence Linguini. "I came because for some stupid reason I believe you… that I believe in the motto that Gusteau lived his life by: That anyone can cook. So tell me what the rat wants to cook for Ego before I change my mind and run out of here like a sane person."

Linguini smiled and led her over to Remy. The little chef flipped through a card index of recipes and then handed Colette the one recipe that he thought was perfect.

"Ratatouille?" Colette said a bit confused. "But this is a peasant's dish." She was right, it was not a dish one would traditionally serve in a four-star restaurant; heck, it probably wouldn't be served in a three-star restaurant. However Remy insisted that this was the dish that he wanted to cook for the critic. "Alright, if that is what you want…"

The two chefs start by slicing up the various and peppers. Then they cooked them separately so that each ingredient would retain its original flavor. The components are then layered in a casserole with a tomato/onion/garlic sauce. Finally, the dish is placed into an oven until it was baked to perfection. Finally the only thing left to do is to plate the dish; a very crucial part to elevate the meal into a work of art. After all, one eats with their eyes first.

When the dish was finally ready Linguini took a deep breath and rolled his way into the dinning area. He served the ratatouille to Ego who looked at it and openly scoffed.

Anton took his fork and sampled a very small portion of the dish. As soon as the food touched his tongue a wave of nostalgia swept over him. It took him back to his childhood, back to his mother's home cooking. He couldn't believe that a simple dish could evoke such an emotion. For the first time since he could remember he ate the whole dish; every single bite of it. Once he was done, he wiped his mouth with a napkin and said to Linguini, "I can't remember the last time I asked my waiter to give my compliments to the chef. And now I find myself in the extraordinary position of having my waiter be the chef."

"Oh, I'm just your waiter this evening," the young man admitted.

"Then who do I thank for the meal?"

Sweat racing down his brow, Linguini struggle to come up with an answer. "Uh, hold on for a minute," and with that he raced into the kitchen to talk with Colette.

Ego then heard some faint arguing coming from the kitchen before Colette walked out to greet him. Before the critic could say anything, Colette stopped him. "If you want to meet the chef," she said, "Then you must wait until all of the customers have gone."

Ego thought that this was strange; clearly they were hiding something. However, his curiosity was simultaneously peaked. "So be it," he simply said and waited a couple of long hours pondering the secrets of Gusteau's over two bottles of wine.

When the time came, it was after midnight; approaching one o'clock. Both Linguini and Colette presented Remy to Ego. The food critic at first thought it was a joke, but when he saw that the two human chefs wasn't kidding his smile disappeared. Over the next hour, both Linguini and Remy showed Ego how Remy prepared the meals while Linguini explained the whole story. Anton didn't speak at all with the exception of the occasional question. After everything was said and done, Ego thanked them for the meal, and left.

KH-KH-KH

The next morning, Linguini, Colette, and the whole rat colony were in the kitchen waiting for the morning paper. Anxiety filled the room wondering what Anton Ego wrote in his review. Did he truly like his meal? Did he change his mind when he found out about Remy? Is he going to rat them out (no pun intended)? Heck, even Miranda was interested in what the critic will write.

Remy was shaking. This was the first time he revealed himself to a critic. He wanted to know what Ego thought of him. Will Ego damned his cooking simply because he is a rat, because he is different? He really hoped that Anton Ego is one of the few truly open-minded humans out there.

Then the moment of truth came. Colette came in with the newspaper. Without hesitation she let all of the other newspaper sections fall to the wayside and zeroed in on the Food & Fine Living section. She took a deep breath and began to read Ego's words aloud:

"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves over to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read, but the bitter truth we critics must face is that in the grand scheme of things the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so.

"But there are times when a critic truly risks something and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talents, new creations. The new needs friends. Last night, I have experienced something new, an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core.

"In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto, 'Anyone can cook.' But I realize only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere.

"It is difficult to imagine more humble origins than those of the genius now cooking at Gusteau's, who is, in this critic's opinion, nothing less than the finest chef in France. I will be returning to Gusteau's soon, hungry for more."

Everyone in the kitchen cheered. Linguini and Colette hugged and the colony went nuts. Remy was elated. There was no rat in the universe that was happier than him. David had beaten Goliath.

"Congratulations, Remy," Trevor said the blue rat.

"I still don't believe it," Miranda commented. "Ego just accepted everything?"

"Thanks you guys, I'm so excited!" Remy almost squealed with delight. "I couldn't have done it without you guys."

"No Remy," the keyblader corrected him, "You did this all by myself. It was you who put in all the hard work and it was you who believed in yourself; even if both Miranda and I were uncertain about your dreams." He looked down for a minute. "Sorry for not believing in you, Remy. In the beginning, the thought of you cooking… it was just too out there for me; which it's surprising since I seen far stranger. But regardless of my views, you have a friend in me; in all of us."

Suddenly, the door of the oven started to glow softly. Trevor looked over and saw the world's keyhole starting to form. He raised his keyblade and shot a beam of light into the keyhole locking the world.

"There the world is finally locked," the keyblader said confidently.

"And we can now get out of these forms…," Miranda said under her breath.

"I don't understand," Remy said. "What does this means? Does this mean that you guys are leaving?"

The keyblader nodded. "I'm afraid so, Remy. But don't worry, maybe we will return some day. And when I do I promise to finally sample some of your cooking."

"Alright, deal!" Both Remy and Trevor shook hands, both never forgetting the lessons that they have learn from each other.

KH-KH-KH

That night on the Heart of Gold, when everyone was asleep, Trevor quietly sneaked his way to the ship's cabin. "Eddie," he said softly. The computer exited sleep mode, but before the AI could say anything, the keyblader stopped it. "Don't say anything, not a word," he hissed. "If you do I'll replace your operating system with Windows 95!" The program silently obeyed and awaited orders without making a sound. "Patch me a line to Leon. I need answers."

Eddie followed through on his orders and within a few moments Leon appeared on the screen. The young man with the gunblade looked like he has been through a long day. Granted, he was more than a little shocked to see the keyblader ringing him up this late in the night. "Trevor…," he began, "What is it? I was about to call it a night."

"I heard through the grapevine that Radiant Garden was trying to start up something called SOLDIER again and that it will have a military presence on many worlds; including those with no knowledge of the outside worlds. Is that true?"

Leon's eyes narrowed. "How did you found out about that?"

"Doesn't matter, is it true?"

The gunblader sighed and rubbed his temples. "It's nothing official. Congress is still debating on it. The actual voting will be in three weeks. And even if it passes, it will take time setting everything up."

"That's not the point!" Trevor yelled. "Are you honestly telling me that you are willing to send soldiers to occupy worlds that don't belong to you?! What about the world order?! What about sovereignty?!"

"Now hold on such a minute!" Leon raised his voice. "I don't know where you're getting your information, but several things you just said are incorrect! To plan isn't to occupy worlds, but to station warriors on them. They will receive special training on how not to break the world order; the denizens of the various worlds will not know that we are there or that there are worlds beyond theirs. Second of all, neither me nor Congress came up with the plan. It was a business man by the name of Rufus Shinra. And even though I don't trust that sly snake in the grass, he does raise several good points."

"Such as?"

"Such as that we have been relying on your keybladers too much! Do you realize that both you and Cynthia are the two oldest keybladers on our side? The rest of them are teenagers! I can't allow kids to fight the battles that we adult should be fighting in. SOLDIER will encompass well-trained adults to fight wherever evil may strike."

"If that is the case, why did I hear that you want to start up a military program for kids called SeeD?" the keyblader demanded to know.

Leon appeared shocked for a moment then looked down for a second. "…So, you heard about that?"

"So it's true?" Trevor said in shocked. "All that big talk about not letting kids fight in your battles and that's what you are planning to do anyway?"

"The program is not for kids," Leon clinched his fists, "The program is design for teens ranging from ages fifteen to nineteen. In order to be accepted into the program the teens will have to pass a series of test, including a psychological evaluation, and receive their parents' permission to join. Once the candidate graduate from SeeD they can choose if they want to join SOLDIER or not. Furthermore, SeeD is completely optional. It will be a program for teenagers to receive training and feel useful if they so wish, since one can't join SOLDIER until they are twenty-one. Nobody in SeeD will receive any missions or will be put in any danger."

"And how long will that last?" the keyblader questioned. "How long before SeeD will become mandatory? How long before SOLDIER becomes an entity that conquers worlds?"

"Trevor… Why are you asking me these questions?" For the first time Leon was beginning to lose his cool. "If Congress allows this, and that's a big if, then there will be checks and balances to make sure that nothing goes wrong! This isn't a conspiracy, it's a countermeasure; a way to protect ourselves and the universe!"

"What would happen if those checks and balances fail? What then?"

"I can't talk to you like this," Leon seethed. "We're clearly both tired and yelling at one another won't solve anything. I don't know what's gotten into you or made you so paranoid, but please know that I'm trying to do everything in my power to help you keybladers save the universe from my end of things. I'm ending the transmission."

Leon ended the broadcast and Trevor stood there staring at a screen displaying nothing but static. With a heavy heart, he told Eddie to turn off the monitor and walked slowly back to his room. He had a lot to think about and doubted he would get any sleep tonight. As he opened the door to his room he could only say one thing softly, "I can't believe that rat, Robert, was right…"

KH-KH-KH

Back on Radiant Garden, Leon gathered his things from his office and left in huff. Trevor's accusations made him furious and riled up. Why can't that kid see his good intentions?! But he thought about it for a moment and remembered the old saying that the road to hell was paved with good intentions. He did have some doubt and he doesn't trust Shinra as far as he can throw him, but what are the other options? With people like Xehanort and Maleficent they need a military presence in as many worlds as they can.

As soon as Leon walked out the door, someone came out to him. He recognized the voice and sighed heavily. The voice belongs to a junior senator. An ambitious man equipped with a silver tongue and is a rising star in politics. He was a proponent for the SOLDIER plan and managed to sway many a Congress member. The politician was a friendly enough guy, but Leon admits that after awhile it becomes grating.

"I'm glad that I could catch up to you," the politician said. "I think we should talk more about that legislation that we're going to pass."

"Not now, senator," Leon sighed. "It's late, I have a lot on my mind, and I just want to go home."

The junior senator didn't miss a beat. He smiled politely and coolly said, "Then how about tomorrow, first thing in the morning?"

Weakening, Leon nodded his head. "Fine, whatever, first thing tomorrow, senator," he said as he tried to walk again.

"Try not to be so formal; we're not on the clock," the elected official spoke as he brushed back his greasy black hair. "You can call me by my first name: Elliot."

Next Chapter: The Heart of a False Being

Miranda's Log Updated!

New Characters:

Remy: Ratatouille(2007)

Emile: Ratatouille(2007)

Django (Remy and Emile's Dad): Ratatouille(2007)

Linguini: Ratatouille(2007)

Colette Tatou: Ratatouille(2007)

Chef Skinner: Ratatouille(2007)

Anton Ego: Ratatouille(2007)

A/N: In case if you are wondering about the worlds Eddie gave our heroes in the beginning and what they have to do with ducks allow me to explain:

Lake Hoohaw – the world of PB&J Otter, the duck on this world is Flick Duck

Acme Acres – the Tiny Toons Adventures world, home of Plucky Duck and Shirley the Loon

Los Angeles – this is a reference for two cartoons, The Looney Tunes Show(Daffy Duck and Tina Russo) and Duckman(Eric Tiberius Duckman)

Ducktown – the world of the cartoon Sitting Ducks

US Acres – Wade the Duck from Garfield and Friends lives here

Nowhere – refers to LeQuack from Courage the Cowardly Dog

The United Animal Federation – the world of Bucky O'Hare. A character known as Deadeye Duck is one of Bucky's shipmates.

Earth C – The DC comic multiverse. On Earth C lives the animal version of Plastic Man know as Rubber Duck. In recent years, Earth C became Earth-26. I don't know if this dimension still exists in the New 52 or not.

Banana Cabana – refers to Duck from Almost Naked Animals

Petropolis – the T.U.F.F. Puppy world where Quacky the Duck lives

Cleveland – the city where Marvel's Howard the Duck lives on Earth-616. I when I mean Howard the Duck I'm calling about the comic, not the horrible movie.