Oh my God. DX I am so sorry this took so long. I know this is an excuse you've all heard before, but this is quite possibly the most difficult semester I've taken in my life. Not to mention my computer crashed, and I won't be getting a new one until the end of the month. The only reason I've been able to work on this is because of this 3-day weekend, and because I've been toting around a flash drive with all my fics on it.

Assuming you DO still want the chapter, here's a 25-page-long monster for you all to read.

Disclaimer- I only own Char and everything else that is obviously not from the game.


Dammit!

That was the only thing running through Char's mind as she raced through the growing shadows, the grass beneath her feet gradually growing thinner.

Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit!

Something inside her seemed to cry out in pain at the sudden lack of soft foliage under her paws; almost as if that were some kind of signal, Char skidded to a clumsy stop, narrowly pulling back just before her body would have tumbled over the edge of the winding path into the canyon below. Her chest heaved and her sides felt as if they had been set ablaze, both in terms of temperature and in fatigue at her attempt to get away from the oasis – Sora – as quickly as possible.

Sora. The thought of him only served to magnify her frustration, and she found herself groaning aloud, because behind that anger and self-hatred for even thinking she felt so strongly for him, there was a current of warmth pulsing through her body as the spiky brown hair and dark blue eyes came into her mind.

She shook her head furiously in a failed attempt to clear it. You're being stupid, she told herself, allowing the voice of reason to take over. You are only sixteen years old; you can't feel love in its truest form. The way you're feeling is just because of hormones, the desire for affection – nothing more.

The argument sounded half-hearted, even to her.

Besides – the logic within her promptly took a traitorous U-turn – wouldn't love make sense, what with everything she had been feeling around him? Char let herself recall the events of the past few weeks or so, with the reluctance of a child having to be dragged, kicking and screaming, into a doctor's office: the desire to apologize to him at Hollow Bastion; the way her heart had pounded when he had almost kissed her at the sultan's ball; the sudden, near-overwhelming impulse to kiss him in the Gummi ship. She understood, however grudgingly, that those feelings hadn't sprouted out of just the thought of her first kiss or just friendship; if it had just been friendship, she wouldn't have bothered to show Sora the meadow in Hollow Bastion – the very thing that had embodied Ienzo's own love for her – in the first place. Yes, love seemed like the only explanation that made sense.

Char suddenly wanted to run off the edge of the ravine, so strong was the abrupt feeling of self-deprecation. She couldn't believe she was actually allowing herself to submit to such an idiotic conclusion so quickly. After all, Charisa Nightblaze did not let something as stupid as love make a moron out of her; make her run away from the people who had so kindly allowed her to assimilate into their group, or twist her mind and feelings into the confusing bog of emotions that they had become. The thought from earlier – about this only being the result of hormones, the desire to just let out all of her bottled-up lies and frustration and dwindling homesickness – returned with a vengeance at that moment, and Char sat back on her haunches with a huffy sigh.

Still… She didn't realize it, but if another sentient being were in the vicinity, said being would have witnessed a notable softening of her eyes. Char allowed her chest to rise and fall a little more slowly as she sighed, trying to suppress her irritation from before, feeling humiliatingly like a dreamy schoolgirl thinking about her crush in that action.

She knew she hadn't felt this way since Riku. That much was obvious. Yet the fact that she was even allowing herself to acknowledge that she had felt these same symptoms of… affection for the silver-haired teen only served to reinforce how far she had fallen.

With Sora, though, the whole affair had a significantly different aura about it. With Riku, she had felt almost shy, had nearly had to walk on eggshells around him. She understood that like Sora, Riku had loved Kairi for a long time now; that Char couldn't exactly take that away from Riku, since that was the one thing he could call his own after he had started calling himself Ansem.

So why is Sora different? she wondered. Why do I think Sora, who would throw himself sans Keyblade in front of a rampaging Heartless for Kairi if he had to, is any different from Riku, who feels the same?

Perhaps it was the personality difference between them. Riku would have taken a possible advance much too seriously and demanded why she thought she could replace Kairi in his heart; Sora would… most likely do the same.

Char groaned, the timbre of her voice echoing off of the canyon's walls. This wasn't getting her anywhere. The whole thing didn't even make any sense. She didn't need to distract Sora from his real goal, which was getting home and meeting up with his friends again. And Char didn't need the distraction from her own goals: destroying the Organization.

It was much more than just vengeance now, though. Even Char allowed her stubbornness to step aside long enough to admit that much.

She lifted her head and saw that late sunset, all but obscured by clouds, currently was winding itself into the sky's pale blue hue in a soft mix of violet and red. With some effort, Char got to her paws and pivoted toward the emerald traces of the jungle's tall trees. She had been gone too long, she told herself, and winced when her stomach gave an emphatic rumble.

You're still no closer to the answer to the Sora dilemma, her conscience reminded her. Char shoved it aside with an audible growl and, flicking her tail as she turned away, started back to the oasis at a steady lope.

The voice was right, though. And that little realization shadowed her all the way through the wastelands, back into the long, greasy blades of grass, through the still-eerily-Heartless-free jungle.

The sun and daylight had left for the time being, replaced by its silvery substitute and star-studded darkness, by the time Char returned. She came to a brief halt as the trees cleared out around her and the sound of the waterfalls were crashing down around her ears, for the sight of the golden-furred king-to-be standing at the edge of the cliff had caught her eye. Simba hovered there, clearly brooding, not even turning around when his sensitive ears had to have heard her coming. Char hesitated, about to speak to him, but relented when the similarity of their situations hit her. The last thing she herself wanted was someone bothering her about the internal conflict currently whirling inside her head like a maelstrom, and she had a sneaking suspicion that Simba would want the same courtesy extended to him.

So she turned on her heel and ran her eyes along the landscape, trying to spot her comrades. Soon she found Donald's conspicuous white feathers – it was obvious against the green grass – and headed toward the place where they were sleeping.

Goofy had withdrawn into his shell, so only a spherical yellow shape was visible of the knight; however, the sound of wheezy inhaling and exhaling could be heard, made strangely echo-like by the way it was reverberating from inside the shell. Donald was sitting on one side of Goofy, and he looked so reminiscent of a mother hen perched to keep her eggs warm that Char had to stifle a chuckle. In a way, that little comparison wasn't that inaccurate. Roxas was nowhere to be seen, which slightly worried Char, but she told herself that he could take care of himself if Scar – or Anxclof – came along. The thought of the latter coaxed a tiny smirk onto her lips.

A sharp inhalation on her part echoed starkly loud against the lack of wind as her gaze fell upon the one who had haunted her thoughts for this whole evening. Sora lay in a comically human-like position despite his current lion form, curled up on his side with one paw tucked against his chest, his breathing soft and deep. Char relaxed from the tense position she didn't even know she had been holding; why she had suspected he would be having nightmares, she had no idea. Her own nightmares had all but disappeared a while back, but perhaps she was thinking of his dreams in terms of her own.

She suddenly tore her gaze away, feeling oddly uncomfortable at watching Sora sleep. The discomfort only increased when she felt a surge of warmth along her spine upon doing so.

Hesitantly, she drew closer, half-expecting him to awaken and find her staring right at him; but not so surprisingly, he remained in a near-comatose state of slumber. Feeling more uncomfortable still – yet it was an odd kind of discomfort, something that urged her to just make it increase – she picked her way around Sora's friends and settled down flat on her back, her right side warming against Sora's back. She cast a nervous glance in the Keybearer's direction, but he seemed just as dead to the world as before. A shaky sigh worked its way out of her and she gazed up at the stars, trying to alleviate the sudden sense of pure loneliness inside her.

"Having trouble sleeping?"

The voice sounding above her head made Char's whole body jolt with surprise, and she arched her neck back just in time to see a spiky, golden-furred head appear just above hers.

She let out the breath she didn't know she had been holding. "Don't scare me like that, Roxas," she muttered, shifting her position and looking back up at the sky. Struck by a sudden sense of curiosity, she narrowed her eyes without meeting Roxas' gaze. "The hell were you doing out there, anyway? Mourning the loss of your precious Anxy-darling? Writing depressing poetry to vent?"

"No," Roxas answered, sounding very calm. He slid into a sitting position next to her, and Char turned her head to look at him, mildly startled at his lack of annoyed retort. From what she could see of him through her limited view, he seemed totally relaxed, even as his tail nearly flipped into her face and she was forced to pull back, frowning in irritation.

"But I was looking for her," he continued. He sighed. "I didn't get very far, though – Sora came out looking for me and asked me to come back before it got too dark."

Char's eyes widened slightly at that. She couldn't help wondering whether or not Sora had been concerned for her, and immediately wanted to smack herself for thinking such things. He probably had thought she could take care of herself. Thanks, Key-boy, she thought dryly. Thanks for worrying about me.

She didn't know she had spoken aloud until Roxas snickered quietly. "Don't worry, he asked about you too," the Nobody said, smiling a little at the memory. "He kept saying 'I know Char can hold her own, but I really want her to come back soon.'" Roxas imitated Sora's voice in an uncannily accurate way – then again, though, he was the other half of Sora's heart, so he knew how the brunette thought. "And trust me – he was concerned enough for all of us," Roxas added sardonically.

Char gave herself a few moments to fully take in all of what Roxas had said, and occupied herself by giving Sora a sidelong glance. He seemed to still be sleeping deeply enough, but now that she was really looking at him, his tail was twitching almost erratically. Guess he was just tired. I can't really blame him, after all that happened today… Almost as if to set off her own thought, exhaustion tugged Char's jaws open and made her yawn.

"Get to bed," Roxas said, smirking slightly at the sign of Char's own fatigue. "We'll decide what to do in the morning."

"If Simba ever decides to stop brooding long enough for us to ask him his opinion," Char grumbled, twisting onto her side so she could face away from Roxas. At being faced abruptly with a wall of warmth-exuding, chocolate-colored fur, Char had the sudden, powerful urge to bury her face against his back and have that salty paopu scent in her nostrils as she drifted off to sleep.

Gah, I must be more tired than I thought.

She yawned again and spoke. "Aren't you gonna go to bed too?"

Roxas shrugged, knowing she couldn't see it. "Nah. I'm not that tired yet."

Char snorted, keeping her voice down so the others could sleep. "Gonna kill me in my sleep?" she asked sarcastically. In the blur of sleepiness that her mind had welcomed, she reflected how ironic it was that she was exchanging banter with the boy she had kidnapped and thrown into a virtual world.

Roxas gave a short chuckle under his breath. "Truce, remember?"

Char rolled her eyes. "Right, right…"

And even with the emotional turmoil in her head and heart, she still let herself succumb to the tantalizing promise of relief from at least her physical exhaustion.


"Hm," Falcon says suddenly, causing Copperhead to glance over at her. She shifts the green-tipped paintbrush over the meadow she is currently constructing on the canvas in front of her. "I don't know whether I should add flowers or not."

"Just add them," Copperhead yawns, bringing up one hand to cover his mouth. He is draped over the bed with the other hand balled up into a fist and pressed against the underside of his chin, and one leg is hanging idly over the side of the bed, while the other is bent at the knee to get into a comfortable position. This is one of the many ways in which he's moved around, trying to get comfortable, in the past few hours that he's watched Falcon paint. "C'mon, let's go kill some Heartless or something. This is boring if you're not the one actually doing it."

"Oh, shut up," Falcon mutters, focused intensely on the picture. She does follow his advice, though, fueled by impatience as it was; reaching over to the palette on the table to her left and dipping the brush into the bucket of now-murky water to clean it of any emerald paint before adorning the tip of the paintbrush with a bright canary yellow. "So, flowers. Got it."

Copperhead sighs and shakes his head, mutters something about wondering why she couldn't do this project on a day when he's not here. But he doesn't try to pull her away from her work; if anything, he continues watching, something made obvious since Falcon can feel his gaze on her back.

"Would you stop?" she flares up at last, whirling around and giving him one of her best glares: which of course is ineffective, if the way Copperhead's tiny smile widens is any indication. "I can't concentrate with you hovering like that."

"Well, what am I supposed to do?" Copperhead queries, and the soft look on his face turns into a sardonic grin. "Go downstairs and bother your parents?"

Falcon growls under her breath. "Well, no, but…"

"There you go, then." Copperhead lies back against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. "So, as much as you hate it," if possible, his lips curl up even further and he lazily brings up a finger to point at her, "you're stuck with me watching your every move."

Falcon rolls her eyes, adjusts her loose ponytail and turns back around. "Asshole," she mutters under her breath.

"Oh, you know you love me for it," Copperhead answers without missing a beat.

Falcon's shoulders tense unconsciously. She was starting to wonder about his constant usage of the words you still love me to turn around any negative comment she made about him. And of course that stupid feeling of hope starts to rise within her again.

Don't get your hopes up, she tells herself. He's got his pick of the litter; why would he choose you? He's probably just teasing you. She sighs through her nose and jams the paintbrush onto the canvas with renewed vigor. "We're gonna have some flowers," she growls, practically stabbing the ridged landscape of green that she just spent the past few hours creating.

She hears Copperhead get up, but she doesn't realize he's right next to her until his voice sounds disturbingly close to her ear. "Gods, Fal, it's a field, not a Heartless," he says, sounding both amused and mildly alarmed at her new fervor. "I'm not the artsy type like you are, but even I know that flowers do not look like little dots." He places one hand on her shoulder and uses his free hand to point at the conspicuous tawny-colored pinprick, stark against its companion of chartreuse. "So something tells me that your art teacher will not take it very well if you just make more like that."

"Fine," Falcon huffs, trying not to fully acknowledge the way heat is rushing to her face and abdomen at having him so close. "Since you know everything, you paint the stupid picture." And she shoves the paintbrush at him, just in case she hasn't made her point.

Copperhead barely catches the brush and eyes Falcon with a steadily rising eyebrow.

"As a matter of fact, take the whole palette, too," Falcon growls, her temper getting the best of her as she tosses the container of paint – still open – at his chest. "You'll need more colors than just yellow if you want to –"

She breaks off and suddenly has to fight back a snicker. Because when she had thrown the palette at him, Copperhead had made an uncharacteristic fumble trying to catch it. And so the palette had landed on his thankfully black shirt, paint-side toward him. And therefore, the contents of the container – paint – had exploded.

All over his chest.

And on part of his neck and bare shoulders.

Oh gods. Falcon wastes only a few seconds attempting vainly to stifle the sudden fit of giggles before she acts much like the now-ruined palette and explodes into not a paint-induced mess, but an uncontrollable barrage of laughter.

At least until Copperhead narrows his eyes playfully – after only a moment of giving his even-darker top and green-red-and-orange-speckled shoulders a bemused scrutiny – takes the paintbrush in his hand, and hisses around a snigger of his own, "Oh, you want war? You've got one!"

And without preamble, he smears the tip across her jaw and drags it down her neck.

"In fact," he says, grinning like a wolf at the sudden dumbfounded look on her face, "let's go the whole nine yards and give you some darker colors, why don't we?"

He manages to dart behind her in a maneuver that he's mastered in their days of Heartless hunting, grabs the entire bucket of water from the table, and makes a move with it that makes her realize abruptly what he's doing. While she manages to leap back just in time and dodge most of the paint-darkened water, the aftermath of the spray lands on its intended target.

She stares at him and slowly realizes that it's not anger that's bubbling up within her; it's only a playful desire to get him back for it. With the rational part of her mind, she knows that now the art project she spent the past three hours working on is ruined since all that water got on it, but strangely she doesn't really care.

"Bring it!" she cries and grabs a red-tipped paintbrush from the table. It's half-dry since it's been sitting there for the past hour or so, but it'll do for now. Brandishing her weapon, she lunges at Copperhead, only to have the brush knocked out of her hand with an expert wrist. He smirks at her and waggles his finger reprovingly at her, but she continues her advance, a smirk of her own on her countenance when his eyes widen and he takes a step back; clearly he'd expected her to stop.

He is caught off guard long enough for her she can pounce on him. The tackle has more force than she'd originally thought and soon she finds herself pinning him down. Giggling like an idiot and barely managing to keep his squirming form down with one hand, Falcon gropes about with her free hand to try and find the spare paintbrush, only to let out a noise of disappointment that's half-obscured by snickers from both parties when she fails to find her instrument of revenge.

"Ha!" Copperhead says breathlessly, even as she turns back to face him. In the brief moment that she's distracted, he somehow manages to flip her over so that they've reversed positions: for the first time, since her back is pressed up against it, Falcon realizes how sticky the newspaper set out around the canvas is, mostly due to their impromptu little paint war.

"I win," he whispers.

Falcon's giggles finally peter off into silence at realizing that he's right. It's only after the initial laughing fit has ebbed that she also realizes how close they are; his trademark scent of coffee mixed with whatever he put in his hair this morning – something with coconut, she knows that much – is still strong despite the oily paint smell that's coming off of his body. She can feel the warmth coming off of him in waves, a warmth that's amplified even more by her own traitorous body's reaction to his closeness. Gods, she doesn't even want to think about how he's reacting to this. The thought produces the tiniest iota of disgust before that, too, is snuffed out by her own stupid heartbeat increasing substantially. Violet and green eyes alike widen as they watch the other.

Abruptly, Copperhead rears back and says, "I have to go." He gets to his feet and is gone before Falcon has recovered from both the relief and disappointment at not having him close anymore: relief that the discomfort is passing, and disappointment… Well, she doesn't want to think about that.

It's probably that moment, when she's dimly reflecting on how she really needs to shower now and wondering how her parents will react on seeing their daughter's frequent visitor covered in paint, that Falcon Gracebreeze realizes – she has a huge crush on Copperhead Sandgale. A really, really huge crush. Something that might even merit the label, oh, say, love.

So much for fighting hormones.


"Mmph… paint… wha…?"

Anxclof blinked bleary eyes and shook her head, trying to wake herself up even as she took in her surroundings. From what she could tell, she had been asleep for the better part of the day and well into the night; the lack of light coming from outside her little hollow confirmed that much. She arched her back as she stretched, still unwilling to rise from her position on her side, and blinked hard a couple of times to get the sleep out of her eyes. No good – it seemed like she could only do so by rubbing her eyes, which of course she couldn't do. Well, she probably could; she just didn't want to think about what kind of dirt and gods only knew what else she would get into her eyes by putting her paws to them.

Anxclof thought back to the dream. The sequence of flashbacks – or lack thereof – had been unique in that it only consisted of a single memory of her Other and the boy she had clearly cared for, but had to discard. The Nobody cringed at remembering the dream she had gotten so far back, when Copperhead and Xemnas had somehow conspired against Falcon and betrayed the female Keybearer. That was another weird thing: Anxclof didn't know why these dreams hadn't always come in chronological order, but now things seemed to be righting themselves as far as the timeline of Falcon's life went. Wonder if Roxas has been experiencing the same thing, Anxclof mused, surprising herself with the randomness of the thought that, really, she had mulled over countless times since the misadventure in Twilight Town, when these dreams had started.

Well –she should probably use the past tense when referring to Roxas' dreams of Sora. Roxas had reunited with Sora's heart, so any dreams that the Key of Destiny experienced were Sora's own. Anxclof grinned despite herself; most of Sora's dreams probably starred Char nowadays. Poor Spike, the female Nobody thought, having to constantly think about the girl that kidnapped him.

Anxclof didn't know it, but her gaze hardened into chips of emerald. She still had yet to make Char pay – truly pay – for what she had done to Roxas. And Riku, too, now that Anxclof was really thinking about it. Well, having to take the form of Xehanort's Heartless had to be punishment enough. The Blade of Vengeance would hate to have to walk around with the Superior's face all the time.

After her initial amusement subsided, Anxclof allowed her contemplations to return to the dreams. The feelings she got during the dreams were strange: it felt like being carried along on a river's current in that she had no choice in what she was doing and that she could only watch and wait and see what Falcon decided. Normally Anxclof hated the feeling of not being able to choose for herself, but again, the feelings were strange in that around Copperhead, almost no hatred was present, only a sense of belonging that Anxclof normally got while spending time with Axel and Roxas. And Anxclof supposed that the relationship between Falcon and Copperhead was where she had obtained the capacity to feel what she felt for Roxas. The little self-confession at the end of the dream told her at least that much.

Though she and Roxas had never gotten into a paint fight…

Falcon is brave, but weird, Anxclof decided. She kept talking about trying to fight back against "hormones" when really, she herself was falling prey to them. Maybe Anxclof's mild fascination over the whole subject had begun due to the fact that her lack of heart gave her no such problems. True, she had admired Axel and looked up to him like he was an older brother, but she had never cared for him as anything more than that. But when she knew she loved Roxas, she just knew, and that was that. Yes, there had been a brief period of trying to fight back against that, yet eventually her own feelings won out over her pride and she stopped resisting. In a sense, Anxclof felt a surge of sympathy for Falcon and, really, Char as well; they were both stuck in a stage of denial over their feelings toward their respective male friends – or had been stuck, in Falcon's case.

Then something seemed to hit Anxclof and she frowned. Why was she worrying about Char, anyway? The redhead only seemed to give Anxclof more problems in her attempts to bring Roxas back to her, so why did she feel sympathetic about Char's lack of intelligence when it came to matters of the heart?

Ironic, Anxclof mused, smiling a little smugly to herself. I'm the one with no heart and yet I know more about this than she, a true being, does.

A streak of light shone in her peripheral vision and she turned her head toward the opening of the small cavern. The sun was rising outside and casting a bright glare over the barren ground; she shivered a little at the way the light caught the bones littering the area.

Roxas, she told herself, I have to find him.

She heaved herself to her paws; after a few moments of dots dancing in her vision at getting up so quickly, the initial dizziness wore off and she left the hollow.

Almost the instant she stepped outside, she was nearly blinded by the sun's rays and hissed, eyes squeezed immediately shut, against the light. She cracked one eye open and focused on her surroundings, the other eye gradually joining its partner in fully opening to check if there were any Heartless. Suspiciously, the area seemed clear.

She still summoned her Keyblade, just in case, before stepping forward. So far, so good.

Only now did it hit her, how stupid she had been to just run off from Pride Rock the way she had done yesterday. Anxclof groaned aloud with the force of her own self-frustration; knowing Sora's tendencies to follow anyone who needed help, Roxas could be miles away by now.

This is going to be harder than I thought.


Roxas awoke to the sound of a self-deprecating voice, originating from not too far off. Dark blue eyes opened a fraction as he brought one paw up to press against the corner of his eyes; it didn't quite work so well without fingers, but at least it was an earnest attempt to get the sleep-blearing vision impediment out of them. As he moved over onto his other side, Roxas abruptly realized that earlier, he had been practically lying on top of Sora. The Nobody made a sound of light disgust to himself; he decided that he definitely wouldn't call himself a narcissist, because pressing against the other half of himself – the real half, by Char's standards – was incredibly awkward.

The sound that had woken Roxas rang out into the air again, successfully getting his attention. He straightened up into a sitting position when his brain immediately connected the deep voice with the name Simba.

"My father's dead… and it's because of me. It's my fault."

Roxas' ears pricked. He glanced over at the sleeping animals around him: Donald, now flat on his back and with his beak half-open; Goofy still in his shell, having not shifted once during the night; Char pressed disturbingly close to Sora's back, murmuring something that Roxas couldn't pick up, but that sounded suspiciously like master; and Sora himself still on his side, all but comatose.

Again, Simba spoke, a sigh embedded in his still-self-demeaning words. "I can't go back," he murmured. "It won't change anything."

"Psst!" Roxas turned at the sound of the new voice, only a little startled at the new intruder. He blinked as his searching eyes found Timon and Pumbaa standing behind him, shadowed by the undergrowth.

"Are you hearing this?" Timon whispered, his eyes flicking about nervously, like he thought Simba might do something drastic if he caught his two closest friends listening.

"He killed his father?" Pumbaa asked, a look of shock on his face. Timon immediately shushed him in a way that was even louder than the warthog's voice, and Roxas winced, glancing back, half-expecting Simba to turn and realize they were eavesdropping on his little pity fest. To his immense relief, though, the lion remained staring up at the sky.

A flicker of movement drew Roxas' eye to Donald, who was stirring and barely opening his eyes. "Have you ever… heard of… keeping it down?" the duck demanded sleepily. Roxas simply drew his tail over Donald's mouth, ignoring the growl of irritation that followed that gesture; he prepared himself to have his tail suddenly in Donald's beak, but the mage did nothing.

The commotion was waking even Sora, who Roxas knew to be one of the heaviest sleepers that the worlds had ever produced. Sora's lids moved only a fraction to show the dark blue iris beneath, in the same moment that Char was arching her back to stretch from where she lay on the ground. Roxas considered giving a teasing remark as to how she had slept so close to Sora, but relented; they didn't need a loud argument right now.

Sora's eyes opened fully when he caught sight of the golden lion staring intently off to the side, at something he himself couldn't see. "Roxas?" he asked groggily, the name coming out slowly. "What's going…?"

"Shh," Roxas murmured, not taking his eyes off of the unknown object in the distance.

Char had already gotten to her paws in the second that the Nobody and his Other had spent talking, and she padded up to sit beside Roxas, her tread a little uneven both due to the old burn wound and the lack of coordination that just waking brought. "Why are you –" she began, only to break off when she caught sight of what had kept Roxas' attention for this long. She actually let out a tiny gasp before exchanging glances with Roxas himself. For once there had been no trace of sarcasm whatsoever in her voice, Roxas reflected dryly. Maybe that was just because she wasn't fully awake yet. Well, in any case, she had to be now; she was staring wide-eyed at Simba, without a trace of the bleary-eyed squint that awakening slowly usually heralded.

"Char?" Sora's eyes opened fully, then narrowed, even though there was only the thinnest thread of light lining the horizon. The last time I got up this early was… hm. He frowned when he realized that he couldn't actually remember. Pushing that aside for now, he spoke to the tiger again. "Char, what's –"

"Shh!" she hissed at him, twisting around to give him a wide-eyed glare for emphasis. Sora gave his characteristic pout, only this time it seemed to have a tinge of annoyance; at that, Char's eyes softened a little – Sora had to do a double take – and she answered his question in a whisper. "It's Simba." The Keybearer's look of disappointment melted into one of surprise and curiosity.

"I thought he was asleep," he said softly, moving to stand on Char's other side.

Char shrugged one shoulder as she turned to look back at Simba, who was currently standing still there, as if reminiscing about something. "Apparently not, unless he expresses his severe lack of self esteem in his sleep," she muttered.

Sora smiled despite himself; the argument from yesterday felt like eons ago, and so he was ready to talk to her normally again. "Don't you?" he joked.

Char gave him a sharp look, silently asking what had happened to him being angry at her; but then a new voice cut into the darkness. "Gawrsh, guys, what's everybody lookin' around for?"

"Simba!" they all hissed at Goofy, who blinked, bemused, before sticking his legs out of his shell in addition to his head.

Sora's lips turned upward a little. It occurred to him that Simba hadn't spoken for a few minutes at least, and he tried to take a step closer to hear well, only for his paw pads to scrape against something on the ground. He chanced a look down and gasped softly at what he saw; quickly he leaned down and scooped up the Keyblade chain in one paw. It's been a while since I got a new Keyblade, he reflected; for the longest time he'd only been using the Hero's Crest. He glanced around, trying to decide what to do with the Keychain; it had what looked like a depiction of a lion cub's head as its charm, which was fitting, considering this world.

He didn't get much more time to do anything other than keep the chain in his paw, for their attention was drawn back to the royal heir as he spoke again. The amount of despair in his pleading voice was poignant enough to make even Roxas wince in sympathy. "Father… Are you there?" he cried up at the cloudy sky. "You said you'd always watch over me."

"Isn't he dead?" Sora asked Char, who just nodded mutely. The sympathy she felt took the strongest form of all seven animals watching; she knew all too well how it felt, to have to ask someone who wasn't in her life anymore for guidance, when she knew full well that no one would answer. Master, she thought with a tiny sigh. And for the first time since Riku had let darkness take over his heart, she realized she felt comfortable calling DiZ by his true name: Ansem.

At any rate, though, it was no use for Simba to try and talk to his father, since he had just said himself that he was already dead and gone.

Then to everyone's complete and utter shock, Char's thought was disproved by a sudden swirl of violet purple clouds and – what was that, part of the sky itself? Even Simba took a step back in shock, and it was all Roxas could do to keep Donald, Timon, and Pumbaa from uttering cries of wonder and surprise.

A huge, dark blue lion appeared in the circle that the lavender clouds had created in the sky. From the gasp that came from Simba's direction, it had to be Simba's father.

"No way…" Sora gaped.

The spirit and Simba exchanged a few words that none of them could hear; Char wasn't sure whether the aura of gold that surrounded the former king's form signified the sunrise or not. Is it the real sunrise or a symbolic one? she wondered.

But now the golden light was almost blinding, drowning out any trace of purple, and the spirit was disappearing to gods only knew where in a fading of fiery embers. Simba ran over to the ledge, as though trying to ask his father for more answers; clearly, what the spirit had told him didn't suffice. The sky darkened again, and Simba's form straightened. Then he spoke.

"You can all come out now."

"Crap," Char muttered, and followed Sora up to Simba. When the group of seven stopped, they were all standing – or in Donald's case, hovering – right behind him.

"Great job, guys," Donald grumbled. Roxas gave him a look that strongly suggested he was ready to call the duck a hypocrite.

Simba turned around, the ghost of a smile crossing his face at the sight of all his comrades ready to back him up. Then his face turned serious. "I'm going back to face my past. I could use your help."

"Like we're gonna say no?" Sora grinned.

Beside Goofy, Timon remarked, "He really is a king…"

As if to accentuate the meerkat's words, the sun chose that moment to make its entrance, and the bright gold light outlined Simba's form despite the clouds that tried to obscure it.


"So, new Keyblade?" Char asked.

Sora blinked at the abruptness of her question. He had to half cross his eyes to look down at the Keyblade in his jaws, the creamy-colored weapon that he had decided to dub the Circle of Life, after the way of life that Nala had told him about. "Yeah," he answered. "I found it back at the oasis."

"Hm," was all Char said. She looked away, focusing determinedly on the rock formations and sparse trees of the Wildebeest Valley; she had a look on her face not unlike that of Simba's. The adult lion marched on stoically, an odd shadow in his eyes to accompany his newfound determination, looking as though he had a bad memory of this place. Except Char's expression held something else besides the will to take Scar down once and for all; something else was in her eyes, something that Sora had a feeling she wouldn't tell him. She never did tell him very much, he knew that, but it still hurt to think about. Again, the thought of how much he cared about her – how much he didn't want to care about her, it was betraying Kairi, wasn't it? – passed through his mind, and he shook it off hastily before the guilt could sweep over him.

Char was so glad her fur was red to begin with, because being around Sora was making the heat beneath her skin magnify tenfold. It didn't help that Roxas' words kept echoing inside her head. You know he feels the same way… haven't you seen the way he looks at you?... Kairi isn't the one Sora loves anymore…

Shut the hell up, she spat mentally, and to her relief, most of the stomach-swirling hope that spawned from Roxas' comments went away. What the hell does Roxas know about Sora anyway…?

Oh, he was his Nobody. Never mind then.

Char wanted to hit her head against the nearest rock in frustration, and gods knew that rocks weren't in short supply in this place. So she glared at one of the square-topped rock formations, hoping that either her glare could incinerate it or that maybe she could sneak off and lose a few brain cells to its surface without being missed. Either would relieve the immense maelstrom of hope and anger and discomfort and everything in between that she felt, if only a little.

"Gee, Simba, what's wrong?" Goofy asked the royal heir, effectively dispelling Char's own attempt to stay out of any other conversation. She had to admit, she was curious about Simba's sudden change of expression when they had reached this place. When they had crossed the jungle and the canyon that led to it, he had taken down the Heartless that had gotten in their way with a fiery determination. Now, he simply looked grim, and any Heartless that dared cross their path had been effectively, icily disposed of, not unlike a butcher chopping a piece of meat.

Simba gave Goofy a look of warning, and the dog-turtle recoiled slightly, adding in a hasty tone, "Uh, you don't have to tell us if you don't want to. I was just wonderin'."

"Yeah, Simba, I kinda want to know too," Pumbaa cut in tentatively.

Simba's dark eyes flickered from one friend to another; then he sighed, and just like that, the wall of cold, simmering anger shattered. "This is… where my father died," he murmured, so quietly that they all had to strain to hear, which was difficult, considering that they had to keep moving.

Char's eyes widened, Sora and Donald let out a small gasp of surprise and sympathy, and even Timon, Pumbaa, and Roxas looked shocked. Goofy just looked like he felt guilty for even asking in the first place. "Gawrsh, Your Highness, I'm really sorry," he said.

Simba shrugged, not bothering to correct the knight on calling him Your Highness. "Scar had taken me out here so I could go play," he muttered, almost bitterly, like he couldn't believe that such a traitor had taken him in. Char remembered belatedly that Scar was Simba's uncle. "Then he just left. My uncle just left. A while later, the wildebeests came and started storming the valley."

Every word came out sounding like it had gotten caught on thorns in Simba's throat, but Sora couldn't stop his question. "So then what happened?"
Simba took a deep breath; his eyes were already beginning to shine with tears. "My father came and took me up to a high ledge so I would be safe," he murmured. "He got pulled back down by the wildebeests. He must have gotten pulled up onto another ledge, because the next thing I knew I saw him falling down into the stampede. That was the last I saw of him."

Everyone let out sympathetic noises, and Simba turned his face to the ground. "I was wandering around, confused and crying. I half expected the hyenas to find me. I wanted them to."

"And I'm guessing that's when we found you, huh?" Timon asked, sounding notably subdued. "Geez, kid, I'm sorry."

Simba sighed. "It's fine. You didn't know; you couldn't have."

Char didn't speak. She knew that the words typical of an apology couldn't do anything to assuage Simba's newly raw grief; they were just an attempt to fill an empty silence, to make some kind of comment so that the speaker didn't look insensitive. Riku had tried the same thing when he had found out what had driven Char and Ansem from Hollow Bastion in the first place – the bloody birth of the Organization – and it hadn't done anything. Not even time did very much, though it did push the grief in the proverbial vault and lock it away for a time. But somehow, some way, something would come up that would resurrect the old sorrow all over again.

"Char, are you feeling okay?" Sora suddenly asked.

Char met his eyes; it was like looking into the sun and she had to tear her gaze away. "Yeah," she muttered. "Just thinking."

Sora blinked, as though he had expected more of a dry response, but he just touched his tail-tip to her shoulder and moved back to his position at the lead of the group.

Char realized that she was breathing shakily and the back of her eyes were quivering with… what was that, tears? She told them firmly to go away, and to her surprise and relief they did so. Honestly, I used to cry roughly once a year. Now I'm nearly breaking down every single week.

She raised her head and saw that they had left the Wildebeest Valley behind them. Simba swept out ahead of Sora and stopped at the edge of the rocky ledge they were standing on. He took a deep breath as he absorbed the sight of the savannah and Pride Rock off in the distance.

"Wait, wait, wait," Timon said suddenly, standing next to Simba. "We're gonna fight your uncle for this?"

Simba cast a look down at his meerkat friend before lifting his head and looking out at Pride Rock again. "Yes, Timon," he answered relatively evenly. "This is my home."

His words unexpectedly struck a chord deep within Char. Despite everything that had happened to make him bitter about it, Simba was still willing to fight tooth and claw to protect his home and everything in it from anything. If Master and I had stayed in Hollow Bastion, Char couldn't help thinking, would the situation in that world be better? If we had been willing to fight the Organization there, fairly, instead of using Sora, Roxas, and Riku for an unjustified revenge, would things have been different?

"Char! Hurry up or we're gonna leave you!" Roxas shouted.

Char started and looked around; she caught sight of the telltale spiky brown head and saw that the group had already descended the ledge and were getting ready to cross the savannah. "Like you'd do that!" she yelled back, and raced down the ledge back to level ground.

"I don't know, Char," Sora teased, as she took her place beside him. She mentally cursed herself for willingly returning to the boy that kept her so confused about her own emotions, but, as stupid as it seemed, she just couldn't stay away. "I was thinking about it…"

"Shut up," she muttered, playfully flicking his shoulder with her tail. She opened her mouth, half ready to ask him what had happened to their argument from yesterday, only to close it. There was, really, nothing to ask.

As they all moved off toward Pride Rock, weapons at the ready, they didn't notice a pair of dark green eyes widen in the shadows, then dart off in the opposite direction, almost like the owner was planning on entering the Pride Lands' main haven from the other side.


The clouds hanging closely above the top of Pride Rock's thorn-like structure looked as though they wanted to release their burden of rain and possibly thunder and lightning any moment. Sora shivered at the anticipation of rain; while it was welcome in the dried-up Pride Lands, he didn't know how the battle against Scar would play out if the ground beneath his paws was slippery. He had enough trouble moving around in this form as it was.

Simba suddenly let out a soft cry of surprise, and Sora turned just in time to see the telltale creamy pelt make itself visible in his vision. The Keybearer waved a paw in greeting as Nala bounded up, her eyes wide at the sight of Simba. "Hey, Nala."

She gave him a terse nod in reply, but didn't take her eyes off of Simba. "You came back," she whispered.

Simba smiled weakly. "I'm sorry about before. I'm here to take back what's ours."

Nala could only smile back, a breathless murmur of gratefulness issuing from her lips. Sora could tell that she wanted nothing more than to nuzzle herself into Simba's pelt in what Sora himself had come to know as a cat-hug, but he knew that now wasn't the time. She seemed to realize that as well, because her eyes hardened. "Scar is up there," she told them, jerking her head up toward the ledge that jutted out from the thorn of Pride Rock. Sora followed her gaze and saw that she spoke the truth; the orange-and-black lion stood there. Simba narrowed his eyes and turned to the rest of the group. "Are you ready?" he asked.

Char rolled her eyes. "If we've told you once," she muttered, speaking for everyone, "then we've told you a thousand times. We're with you."

Simba grinned. "Just making sure."

Without waiting for a response, he leaped up onto the nearest ledge and began making his way to where Scar stood, without actually directly ascending the hill that led up there. Sora glanced back at the others, who simply nodded, and he slitted his eyes in determination before he looked at Nala. "Let's go."

"Right."

They raced up the rocky hill and skidded to a halt just in time to see Simba prowling toward Scar. Simba's side was to them, so Sora didn't get a good glimpse of the true king's expression; but the Keybearer could see that Scar's emerald eyes were huge with dread and his jaw had dropped. "Simba! You're… alive!" he sputtered.

"This kingdom doesn't belong to you," Simba snarled, and Nala added, "Simba's the rightful king!"

Even from where they stood, Sora could see Simba unsheathe his claws and brace them against the ground. Scar clearly noticed that as well, because he backed up against where the ledge met Pride Rock itself and simpered, "Must this all end in violence?"

Sora opened his mouth, ready to deliver a reply along the lines of how this situation merited physically taking Scar down; but the usurper wasn't finished. His ears pricked up and he straightened from where he'd been crouching against the wall before starting to circle Simba. "I'd hate to be responsible for the death of a family member, Simba," he purred, finally coming to stand in front of the group.

Simba's eyes widened before they narrowed again. "I've put the past behind me!" he growled with renewed determination.

Scar tittered. "But what about your faithful subjects? Have they?"

"Simba, what's he talking about?" Nala asked, casting Simba a worried glance.

"You mean they still don't know?" Scar smirked and began to circle Simba again; Simba followed his uncle's movements with his head this time, a panicked expression slowly beginning to take over his features. "Go on. Tell them who's responsible for Mufasa's death!"

Simba hung his head and tried not to look at the others. "I am," he murmured. And all at once, Sora understood the reason why Simba's eyes had been shadowed when he had told them about his father's death. Nala's gasp beside him confirmed that not even she had known.

"You see?" Scar barked, swinging his head back toward Sora and the others. "He admits it! Murderer!" he rasped at Simba, beginning to push him back toward the edge of the cliff. "If it weren't for you, Mufasa would still be alive. Do you deny it?"

"No. But it was an accident!" Simba protested.

"Mufasa died saving his life!" Char snarled, surprising all of them. Her neck fur and tail were fluffed up in undisguised anger. "What, did you expect him to just let his son get trampled?"

Scar only ignored her and continued his tirade. "You're in trouble again. But this time, Daddy's not here to save you." His former ominous purr morphed into a vindictive snarl. "And now, everyone knows why!"

He gave one final lunge with the last word, effectively pushing Simba off the very edge of the cliff. Nala gasped, but Simba had managed to cling onto the edge with his paws.

"Now this looks familiar," Scar said, adopting a contemplative voice as he watched Simba squirm to try and keep from falling. He raised his head in mock thought before widening his eyes in feigned realization and looking back down at Simba. "Oh yes, I remember. This is just the way your father looked – before he died."

He dug his claws into Simba's paws, causing the royal heir to howl in pain, before leaning down and whispering something into Simba's ear, something that Sora couldn't catch. Evidently it ignited Simba's calm temper, because the next thing Sora saw was Scar being tackled onto his back as Simba pinned him there with a snarl of agony and fury. "Tell them the truth!" he screeched, pressing a paw into Scar's neck.

Scar choked for a few seconds before he gasped out, "All right! All right!" And he spoke, still too softly for the others to hear.

"So they can hear you!" Simba hissed through clenched teeth.

"Fine then!" Scar raised his voice, loudly enough so that even the lionesses could hear. "I killed Mufasa!"

At that moment, the hyenas came charging out of the king's den, as though summoned by Scar's voice. Simba's eyes widened as he lifted his head and saw them coming right at him, but dual flashes of white obscured his vision for a brief moment before it cleared and everyone saw what had knocked the hyenas off to the side.

"Geez, Scar. You really know how to make a dramatic speech," someone sighed from the other side of the two lions. "But seriously? Just give up. You're only making things worse for yourself." The owner of the voice stepped out from behind the shadow of Pride Rock, even as Roxas let out a pleased cry. "And trust me: you've gotten yourself into some pretty deep crap already," she growled in a low, threatening voice.

"Anxclof?" Char's eyes widened; she didn't know whether to feel shocked or angry that Anxclof was still alive.

"Unfortunately for you, yes," the female Nobody answered loftily. She turned to Sora. "As much as I'd like to talk more," she drawled, sarcasm etched into every word, "I think we've got bigger problems."

Sora followed where her tail was pointing and gasped; a flash of orange fur was the only trace of Scar, who had vanished into the king's den. Simba was looking after him, gaping in both surprise and fury. The hyenas made as if to follow Scar into the den, but Sora immediately threw himself into the middle of them, the Circle of Life brandished in his teeth. "Simba, you get Scar!" he called to the adult lion. "We'll handle these guys."

Simba gave a single, grateful nod before charging off after Scar. As his golden fur vanished into the shadows of the hollow, Sora glanced back at his comrades, but they were already flanking him with their weapons ready. "I thought we were done with these guys," Donald grumbled.

Sora shrugged with a helpless grin. "Well, this is Simba's battle, after all. The least we can do is buy him some time."

Char felt a brush of fur on one side and thought for a brief, horrifying moment that it was one of the hyenas, but when she looked, to her complete bemusement and suspicion, she saw Anxclof there, already hefting her Keyblade in her jaws. "What do you think you're doing?" the tiger snarled wittily.

Anxclof gave her a sidelong glance. "Something tells me you might need me here," she replied, bringing her pupils back to glare at the hyenas.

"The hell we do," Char spat, despite the very small part of her that was nodding in agreement. "What, are you going to pick us off when we're exhausted?"

"Look!" Anxclof finally snapped, giving up any semblance of calm, simmering anger as she whirled to face Char. "If I wanted to kill you, I'd have done it the instant I got here!" Her hackles flattened slightly. "I want to help Roxas out."

Of course. It all comes back to Roxas. Char allowed herself only a moment to struggle with her better judgment; they only had so much time before the hyenas decided to take off after their master. In the end, she only glowered at the ground and grumbled, "Whatever. Just don't expect me to let you do this again."

"I didn't," Anxclof growled, but a smirk was on her face.

Roxas had watched the whole exchange with bemusement that turned into amusement, which then twisted into a tiny smile of his own. He opened his mouth to ask whether or not Anxclof was on their side for this – he knew at this point that much was obvious, but he figured he may as well throw in the question, just to rub that fact into Char's face – but was cut off by a sudden shriek that made all of them, hyena and Keybearer ally alike, jolt in surprise and look around until they found the source.

"'Scuse me, pardon me, coming through!" Timon roared, riding Pumbaa's back like one of the odd-looking creatures that Roxas had spotted riding the dinosaur Heartless earlier. Unfortunately, this was all of the three-second warning that the group got before the warthog charged right through the force-field of hyenas, effectively knocking Scar's minions away and scattering them to the side. Pumbaa skidded to a halt right before he could tumble off the precipice and whipped around to glare surprisingly boldly at the hyenas, while Timon leaped off of his friend's back and copied Pumbaa's determined expression.

Then the hyenas rose, both ravenous hunger and rage obvious in their postures and on their faces, and Timon and Pumbaa deflated visibly. "Run away!" Pumbaa howled, and turned on his heel to charge into the king's den; Timon was hot on his heels, and eventually jumped up and seized the warthog's tail so he could move more quickly into shelter. "Morons," Char hissed, teeth gritted. Of course, while the six of them had been distracted, the hyenas had followed Timon and Pumbaa into the hollow at a steady gallop.

"That would be our cue to follow them," Anxclof muttered, and without waiting for a response, she raced into the king's den. Sora started when he realized what had just happened, and he turned to Char, uncharacteristic anger making his dark blue eyes blaze. "Are you sure we can trust her?" he demanded incredulously.

Char sighed. "She wouldn't betray us as long as he's here," she pointed out, flicking her tail toward Roxas, who was standing off to the side. "Besides, what's she going to do in there? Eat Timon and Pumbaa?"

"I don't trust her," Donald grumbled. Goofy looked vaguely uncomfortable at his partners' behavior, but nevertheless he gave a nod of firm agreement.

"I dunno, Char," he said. "What if soon as we're done with Scar, she tries to kill Sora again?"

Char hesitated; she honestly hadn't considered that. But it was Roxas who spoke up. Not that surprising, really, considering his relationship with Anxclof. "I think we'll be fine," he said. "The only thing I'm worried about is what'll happen if we leave her alone in there for much longer."

"She's got a Keyblade; I'm sure she'll be fine," Sora retorted.

"Gods, Key-boy," Char couldn't help saying with a frown. "If I didn't know any better I'd say you actually don't care if we reach Scar or not."

Sora gave her a glare.

"Either way, we have to go in there," Char continued. "Whether or not we choose to help Anxclof is up to you."

Sora glared at her for a few more moments, ears flat and hackles raised in a way that Char could see even though his spiky hair would have been in the way. Then his muscles slackened a little and he sighed. "Fine," he muttered. "I just – it's hard to trust someone who tried to kill you."

Char felt her impatience dull, if only slightly, and for perhaps the thousandth time that day she wanted to hit her head against the nearest upright surface for the huge, undeniable soft spot that she had developed for Sora. "I get that," she said quietly. "But right now we don't have a choice but to trust her." Half playfully, she added, "Do you think I liked rushing around to get you back to normal when she turned you into a Heartless?"

Sora smiled hesitantly. "I guess you're right."

He held her gaze for a few, brief, agonizing moments before his eyes hardened into determined sapphire orbs and he turned to the others. "Let's go."

Wordlessly, they entered the den, to be greeted by a sight Char had expected: four Avengers dancing across the hollow, blades flashing in midair as they dodged the blows of their respective hyenas. Anxclof stood off to the side, half-leaning against the wall, a few shallow cuts speckled up and down her flank. Roxas immediately let out a sound of surprise and concern and rushed to her side, the Oathkeeper glowing in a way that shadowed his face in an eerie green glow as he cast a healing spell on her. The majority of the cuts closed up and Anxclof gave him a brief, wolfish grin of thanks before she looked back at the others, eyes narrowing abruptly into a suspicious glare. "Decided to trust me?" she queried.

Char rolled her eyes, which had become icy blue slits. "We wouldn't be here if we hadn't."

Anxclof didn't answer as she got to her paws. Her eyes roved about the cavern for a few moments before she gasped suddenly and flicked her tail almost imperceptibly; immediately one of the Avengers veered off course from its original path toward its master and began slashing furiously at a hyena who had chosen to part from its fellows. As everyone watched the exchange, it became clear that the lone hyena had herded off Timon and Pumbaa and had been leering at them before the Avenger had distracted it with its blade. Char beat down the part of her that was saying see, you can trust her for now. So she's protecting Timon and Pumbaa. That doesn't mean anything.

Roxas watched this while the others stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do; then to everyone's immense surprise – except for Char, who had expected it – he turned to Sora. "Sora, you go take care of Scar," the Key of Destiny ordered. "Anxclof and I will keep these idiots busy."

"Hey!" one of the hyenas yowled indignantly, which went all but ignored.

Sora's eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

Roxas grinned, even as the Oblivion appeared just above him and his tail curled around the hilt as gravity pulled it toward his form. "Positive. We'll keep Timon and Pumbaa from getting hurt."

"Yeah, please!" Pumbaa screamed from the corner.

Anxclof had a look of confusion akin to that of Donald and Goofy's on her own countenance, but that expression quickly dissolved into a grin of pleasure. Char thought that this had to be the only time she had seen Anxclof smile with anything other than sarcasm or sadistic triumph. "You can count on us," Anxclof asserted, lifting a paw to Sora in a way that was clearly supposed to symbolize a thumbs-up.

Sora gave her a mildly suspicious look – what he had said earlier, about not trusting someone who had tried multiple times to kill him, went through Char's mind again – but in the end he relented. He just looked at Roxas, smiled tentatively, and said, "All right. I trust you." Sora glanced to the other side of the hollow, which was briefly obscured by the mangy gray hide of a hyena dashing past it before it vanished. "I think Simba went up there."

The four of them left Roxas and Anxclof in the king's den; Sora risked a look back and saw that Anxclof had already summoned her own Keyblade – he tried not to think of the memory of his own blood on the tip of that Keyblade. The last thing he heard was the female asking cheekily, "You take two and I'll take two?" and then the four of Sora's original group were halfway up the ascending path and he couldn't hear any more.

The Keybearer gave Char a sidelong glance as they made their way to what he assumed was the top of Pride Rock itself. He contemplated asking her if he thought they could trust Anxclof, but then they found themselves abruptly practically in the clouds that had hung over the Pride Lands for the past two days. Sora braced his claws against the rock as he took in the sight before him.

Scar and Simba were grappling furiously on their hind legs, forepaws representing the proverbial swords as they clashed to almost no avail, except when one of them managed to get past the other's defenses and score his claws across the other's face. Sora recalled the days when Simba had been one of the beings he could summon to help in battle and knew that most of the true king's fighting skills came from those times.

"Simba!" Donald squawked, and made as if to interfere.

Sora almost mechanically put out a paw to stop the duck. "This is his fight, Donald," he told him, and looked back out at the battle.

The two lions had sprung apart and were now circling each other, at least until Scar suddenly reared up and slashed across Simba's face. He stumbled back and fell flat onto the ground, flanks heaving visibly; then he looked up, saw Scar in midair and ready to slice into Simba's throat, and something within him seemed to snap. Only Simba saw the triumphant expression on Scar's face warp into stunned, sick dread as the rightful king's hind legs came up, caught in Scar's belly, and tossed him over the side of the cliff.

The four animals watching let out the breath that they hadn't realized they'd been holding when they saw the blur of orange fur disappear over the edge with a howl of "No!" from Scar as he plummeted.

Simba leaped to his paws and ran to the edge, staring warily down to see if he'd really finished off his uncle.

"Hey, nice job, Your Majesty," Sora called, causing Simba to jump in surprise; clearly his nerves were still frayed from the previous battle. His ears straightened from their previously-flattened position as he turned to face the others with a breathless smile of triumph.

"Aw, but that was just a sneak preview!" The telltale voice behind them made Char groan.

"And here I thought we'd lost him," she muttered, turning just in time to see the – what was that, an ape? A bear? – creature that Maleficent had turned Pete into for infiltrating this world.

Pete took a few steps toward them, casting a few nervous glances over the edge of the cliff every so often to make sure he wasn't going to fall, but otherwise looking smug as always. "This ain't over – not by a long shot!"

"Is that your catch phrase or something?" Char sighed.

Pete gave her a glare. "Who asked you?" he blustered, before swinging his massive head toward Simba – or rather, directly behind Simba. The true king moved his head in bemusement before a sound from behind him made him leap back and stare, horrified, at the creature pushing itself up onto the ledge. Even Donald and Goofy let out cries of shock and dread as they saw the telltale black mane, the dark orange fur – and above all, the jagged pink line that ran through the being's left eye.

Scar.

"Anger and jealousy turned the king of the Pride Lands into a Heartless!" Pete cackled, even as Scar's forelegs strained visibly with the effort of pulling himself up. The minion directed his next, relish-filled words to Simba. "Oh, your kingdom's gonna rise again – but this time, as the Pride Lands of darkness!"

In the same moment that Pete's jaws snapped closed, Scar leaped onto the apex of Pride Rock, his glowing green eyes moving almost erratically over the group before they landed on Simba.

Was it just Char, or did Scar's eyes become significantly brighter as they took in his nephew?

Simba narrowed his eyes. "That's what you think," he snarled, and charged at Scar.

Immediately, the Heartless sidestepped the attack, and as Simba spun around just before his hind paw could slip off the edge of the cliff, the sky darkened to an ominous black-violet and the clouds began to congregate over them.

An almost imperceptible smirk curled Scar's lips. He reared his head back and charged; to everyone's complete shock he veered away from Simba entirely and made a beeline for Sora. "Oh no you don't!" Donald roared, and lifted his staff with a grunt. A small lightning bolt absorbed into Scar's mane and he whirled toward the duck, his former smugness replaced by rage.

As if that were some kind of signal, everyone else snapped out of their trance-like state and leaped into action: Goofy leaped up into the air, casting his shield upward, and twisted in midair to hit the shield toward Scar with his shell; Char brandished her swords and dashed toward Scar, narrowly dodging one violet-rimmed paw of needle-like claws; Sora sliced his Keyblade deeply into Scar's side, noting with some alarm how the Heartless seemed to be unaffected.

"We could really use Roxas right about now," Char shouted in Sora's direction. Almost the instant the last word had escaped her lips, she immediately had to perform a complicated series of maneuvers so that her blades could block Scar's ruthless claws; even with Goofy, Donald, and Simba bombarding him from all sides, the Heartless was impervious, continuing his assault on Char as though they weren't there. Sora hastily ran over and, throwing back his head to give his next attack more force, drove the Circle of Life into Scar's flank, effectively pushing him back and getting his attention away from Char.

Scar's eyes focused on Sora for the briefest of moments, and Sora could have sworn he caught a hint of the smug expression from earlier in the usurper's rheumy gaze. He narrowed his own blue eyes and took advantage of that moment to continue his attack on Scar; pummeled the Heartless with the Keyblade until Scar was forced to duck away from the force of Sora's onslaught, right into Simba's waiting claws. A cry of anger and desperation and whatever else had been locked inside Simba for the past gods-only-knew-how-long pealed out into the muggy air as Simba slashed across Scar's body again and again, a golden-colored streak in his movements. Char, vaguely aware of Donald and Goofy casting and attacking from behind them, raced in to help as best she could; she and Sora trapped Scar between them with their respective weapons of dual swords and Keyblade.

Somewhere in the back of her mind Char could sense that they were gaining the upper hand on Scar, but something told her that they hadn't seen the worst of it yet. So far, the only thing Scar had used as a weapon were his claws, whereas she was fairly certain that most Heartless, aside from the small shadows that spawned every now and then, had some other kind of power.

Her attention was drawn by a sudden flicker of movement. In the split second before Simba could drive his claws into his body again, Scar lifted up into the air, and Sora shivered at the way the Heartless' back was arched and his paws dangled limply: almost like a puppeteer was pulling him up on worn strings. Along the way, there came a snarl of "It's time to burn!", and Char's eyes widened to an unsettling degree as Scar's paws became alight with orange flame.

Gods, I hate it when I'm right.

The group was forced to scatter as Scar leaped from one edge of the platform to another, leaving fiery paw-prints in his wake.

Fire. Fire. Fire.

Char could feel her heart screaming in her chest and her limbs growing weak with fear. "Fire," she muttered as she skidded away from Scar's attacks, her chest heaving rapidly with quick nervous breaths. "Of all the stupid things for him to attack with, it had to be fire." She was ashamed to hear the tremble in her own voice.

Sora glanced over at her, only to jolt sharply in surprise and pain when Scar grazed his paws. Wincing and shaking one paw to take the sting of the flame away, the Keybearer remembered the uncharacteristic fear that she had shown while fighting the fire Heartless in Agrabah. He wanted more than anything to assure Char that everything would be all right, that she had nothing to fear; but, even as his thoughts were cut off by a flaming claw very nearly impaling his eye, he knew they didn't exactly have much time to dwell on that.

Char forced herself to stifle the memories of Hades' fireball, of the agony that had raced up and down her leg upon its contact with her. She had made a promise to help Sora, and whether the reason behind keeping that promise had changed or not, she knew better than to go back on her word now. So, trying desperately to ignore the quivering bundle of nerves in her belly, she brandished her swords with new determination and rushed back into the fray.

Her eyes immediately landed on Simba, who had clearly been taken by surprise by Scar's change of tack and was currently making a conscious effort to stay back. Instinctively she barreled toward the Heartless, her heart and better judgment howling at her to stop before she got more seriously injured this time. As soon as she had twisted for one blade to slice deeply into Scar's leg, however, the Heartless swung his head toward her and the flames grew stronger. With a yelp of undisguised fear, Char jerked back.

"I don't think we can attack him while he's like this!" Donald roared from where he was casting nearby.

Sora gave a brisk nod of agreement. "You're right. All we can do right now is…" He trailed off; stay alive and try to heal each other were the words that had been about to spill from the barrier of his mouth into the air, but somehow, he felt like the aura of despair would increase if he said them. Fortunately, Goofy took up where Sora had left off, and a Potion came flying in Sora's direction from the dog-turtle.

Casting a brief cry of "Thanks!" in Goofy's direction, Sora hastily pierced the top of the vial with one claw and took a few licks of it before the heat of Scar's flames licking against his back caused him to whirl to the side to avoid getting burned. Inwardly, the Keybearer winced; he hadn't realized until now what an impediment that healing without using any mana would be in such a serious battle. Thankfully, though, even that quick ingestion seemed to be working. Already the pain from Sora's wounds was beginning to dull, to the point where they were practically unnoticeable.

In the same instant that Char recovered from her staccato-burst of fear, the light around Scar's body faded and the fiery aura that had flared about him vanished completely. With a roar of "Finally!", Donald lifted his staff and generated twin beams of lightning to send crashing in Scar's direction; the newly-upgraded electric attack very nearly succeeded in toppling Scar, and so Char, Sora, and Simba took that opportunity to dash into the fray and deliver a few punishing attacks of their own.

Char spun her swords around in a circle before leaping into the air and slamming one of the protruding blades of the sword she held with her tail into Scar's back. He gave a gratifying snarl of pain and recoiled. That's for scaring me, you asshole, she thought vengefully, her blood boiling both in shame and anger at the way his fire attacks had triggered her fear.

Of course, her triumph wore off the instant Scar lunged back forward with his claws unsheathed, scored said claws deeply across Simba's flank, and made a beeline straight for Sora.

Simba staggered back, blood beginning to gush forth from his side in response to the wound his uncle had given him. Donald and Goofy screamed the true king's name and immediately got to work on healing his injury. Char winced, mentally wishing all three animals good luck in that, and raced to help Sora. As worried as she was about Simba, the battle at hand - paw, whatever - was more important right now.

Sora had just enough time to at least try to bring up his Keyblade to block it before Scar had successfully pinned him to the ground. The Heartless' dagger fangs braced in a smirk that oozed both hatred and relish at once, and Scar reared back his head to deliver a death blow to Sora's exposed throat.

Something inside Sora seemed to explode. He hadn't come this far just to get killed in a battle for another world's rule. And that surge of anger was enough for him to bring back his hind legs and whip them up, hard, into Scar's underbelly.

Scar went flying across the zenith of Pride Rock and would have fallen to his second doom had Char not immediately caught him on the points of her swords. She hadn't seen everything that Scar had tried to do to Sora, but the fact that he had been on top of him, about to drive his teeth into the Keybearer's jugular, was enough of a reason for her to strike with everything she had. She ripped and tore at Scar's body with her swords, completely losing all thought of the others in the heat of the moment. All she could think of was how this lion, this thing, had nearly killed Sora, and Simba too, now that she considered it. She could hear Scar's voice raised in repeated cries of pain with every slice of her sword and every time his skin burst to release more blood, but it was all reaching her in a nebulous haze of bloodthirst and frustration that seemed to surround her. A dark veil began to descend over her eyes and almost unconsciously, Char's lips curled up in a twisted smirk...

But then the next thing she knew Scar was crying something about his anger having grown for far too long - don't even try to talk to me about that - and then his body was rising up into the air again in another caricature of an invisible puppeteer controlling him, and a dark light was surrounding him, and she was being knocked away, nearly crashing into Simba in the process.

"You okay?" Simba asked, straightening her body with one paw.

Breathing hard, Char glanced back at him, the dark curtain that had been over her eyes melting away to reveal the true colors of the world again. Simba's dark eyes were worried, as were Donald and Goofy's as they dashed past her. It hit her then that she had nearly let herself yield to darkness with her thirst for revenge against Scar, and she shivered at how close she had come to meeting the same fate as the other apprentices. Yen Sid's words returned to her: "If one chooses to yield to the darkness in their heart, they too will become a Heartless."

With a shaky start, she realized that Simba was still waiting for a response. "Of course," she grunted, getting to her paws and trying to ignore her feeling of self-trepidation. "I was beating him, wasn't I?"

"Never mind that, we've got a bigger problem!" This came from Sora, who was barely managing to avoid Scar's onslaught. Despite Sora's efforts, Scar's claws still sliced viciously into Sora's body, causing the Keybearer to withdraw in both pain and fear.

Char narrowed her eyes, trying to forget the way her heart was still pounding with the adrenaline rush of her earlier bloodlust. She'd figured all along that Scar would have more powers than a garden-variety Heartless, and now it looked like her prediction was coming true. Again, she thought, I hate it when I'm right.

Scar seemed to have morphed into an imitation of his former self: merely a flaming silhouette of darkness, surrounded by lavender flames. With a roar that was filled with so much raw fury it made even Simba flinch, the usurper reared back and began to charge toward the three felines who were standing together.

"Crap!" Char yelped and veered away. Sora and Simba leaped in opposite directions as well, both with an expression of horror and fear on their faces. She could understand how they felt; if none of them could attack Scar when he was like this, what hope did they have of winning this fight?

She almost expected Scar to chase after Sora again - the memory of earlier returned, bringing with it a feeling of nauseating dread and a shudder that rippled along Char's spine - but to her surprise, Scar avoided Sora completely this time, choosing to pursue his nephew with fiery claws held ready instead. Then again, though, maybe it wasn't so shocking, considering what Pete had said about anger and jealousy turning Scar into this thing in the first place: anger and jealousy that was, obviously, directed toward his nephew.

Simba cried out as Scar tore into the place where neck met shoulder, blood automatically welling up to soak his amber-brown mane. For the first time, Char noticed how badly Simba was wounded; clumps of dusty golden fur hung off his body, and a thin trail of crimson liquid was speckled across the ground from where he had been moving to attack Scar. Thankfully, both Donald and Goofy, who seemed to have taken up healing duty while the three felines tried not to suffer a gruesome fate at the ends of those deadly claws and fangs, had already made their way over to Simba's side. Goofy was fishing out a Potion from the endless stash of healing items that he had brought, while Donald was lifting up his staff to cast a healing spell. Char gave the two Disney residents an approving look; the fact that they had gotten this far without getting gored too badly by Scar's attacks said something about their fighting skill.

She figured that looking away from the battle for even this long had been a stupid mistake on her part, because when she turned around Scar's darkness-wreathed body was so close she could smell his foul breath. "I'm guessing they don't have breath mints in the Pride Lands!" she grunted, hating that she couldn't bring up her swords to guard against Scar's onslaught without twisting awkwardly in midair. Forced to leap back out of the way, she found herself standing next to Sora. The glow of green was already fading on his Keyblade after he had cast Cura on Simba. The Keybearer turned toward her and opened his mouth to say something, an urgent expression on his countenance.

But then a flicker of movement caught everyone's eye, movement that wasn't accompanied by flaming purple. And as Char, Sora, Donald, and Goofy looked toward it, they heard, rather than saw, Simba charge right past them, with a roar of anger that pealed out into the stagnant air.

Right toward Scar's waiting claws.

Sora yowled, "Simba, wait!" but the adult lion would not be dissuaded. He continued his dash toward his uncle, the sound of liquid spattering the dirt echoing every time his paws battered the ground. With some alarm, Sora saw that it was blood.

He cried out Simba's name again, intending to repeat his previous statement, and was echoed by Donald and Goofy behind him. All four of them charged forward to help Simba and heal him if Scar managed to get in one more deadly move.

And then they stopped dead. Char felt Goofy nearly crash into her back and strangely didn't even notice.

Because in the split second that Simba had taken to knock the usurper onto his back, the light had faded around Scar, leaving him vulnerable. And the true king, digging his claws deeply into that soft, creamy underbelly to keep his lightheaded form anchored, battering Scar fiercely with his hind claws, leaned in, snarled something into Scar's face before leaping back.

There was a moment of tense silence.

Scar got up.

Char's eyes widened. You have got to be kidding me!

They all readied their weapons as Scar staggered toward them, glowering furiously. His gaze landed on his nephew very briefly before he suddenly collapsed to the ground, his body fading on contact.

Scar, the most difficult opponent that the group had had in a long while - with the notable exceptions of Anxclof and Oogie Boogie - was dead.

Simba's chest heaved, the golden fur there spiked up with dried blood. Sora saw the adult lion sway with the effort to keep himself up and immediately rushed to his side to cast Cura on him. With a murmur of "Heal," most of Simba's less onerous wounds closed up; Simba gave Sora a grateful look.

"What did you say to him?" Char couldn't help asking as she padded up with Donald and Goofy behind her.

Simba turned his gaze on her, and she very nearly winced at the shock and pain that clouded his dark orbs. He had killed his own uncle, she reflected; any triumph he felt at regaining his kingdom from a tyrant would be numb for a little while. After a few moments, as though letting her question sink in, Simba slowly shook his head. Recognizing that what he had said to Scar - his Heartless, anyway - would remain his secret until his grave, Char respectfully dipped her head and said nothing more.

"Simba!" The desperate female voice coming from nearby caused them all to turn. Nala's form gradually became clear as she raced up the steep incline that led to Pride Rock's peak and made a beeline for Simba. Her eyes widened in alarm when she saw the blood that covered his body and she instantly began cleaning his wounds; Simba just sighed and submitted to it.

"He's fine," Donald growled, sounding offended that Nala seemed to doubt his healing abilities. He received no reply.

A flicker of movement drew Char's gaze to the shapes evanescing behind Nala: Timon and Pumbaa and, surprisingly, Anxclof and Roxas. The two Nobodies looked exhausted but triumphant, their thick coats mostly clear and unmarked, and Char guessed that they had had an easy time fighting off the hyenas.

"How you doing, Your Highness?" Timon asked Simba.

The lion groaned. "I've been better, that's for sure."

"I'm just glad you're okay," Nala mumbled around a mouthful of Simba's fur. Simba gave her a startled look, then relaxed with a tiny cat-smile on his own lips.

Sora and Char exchanged grins of their own, grins that faded when their respective gazes of sapphire and ice-blue came to rest on Anxclof and Roxas. For the first time Char realized how bedraggled they must look compared to the Nobodies, whose battle had been much easier than the one the Keybearer and his comrades had waged up here; she became aware of the sticky blood matting her fur. While she knew she could never bring herself to do the fully feline thing and start to lick her pelt clean, Char thought that not caring about having a mouthful of fur would really help her situation right now.

Anxclof's green eyes narrowed as they alighted on Char. For a brief, terrifying moment, Char thought Anxclof would leap in to finish both the tiger and Sora off, and braced herself to summon her swords just in case. But to her immense surprise, Anxclof merely flicked her tail and remarked, "You guys look like you had fun."

"'Fun' isn't the word I'd use!" Donald grumbled.

A half-smile crossed Roxas' face before his amusement faded and he became serious again. "We chased out the hyenas," he explained obviously. "And something tells me the lionesses had their fill of revenge driving off the others."

Nala lifted her head from where she was still busily cleaning Simba's pelt and only smirked in confirmation of what Roxas had said.

"Anyway," Roxas continued, looking at the Pride Land residents crowded around Simba, "don't you guys have something else to celebrate?"

Char's ears pricked as the meaning of Roxas' words hit her. "Well, Nala, you did say the one to save the Pride Lands would be the next king," she reminded the lioness.

Simba and Nala rose to their paws, after the former had informed the latter of his ability to do so, of course. "That's right," Nala agreed, giving Simba a warm look.

Simba's shock at his uncle's death seemed to have finally worn off; now his countenance wore only a look of nervous excitement. "You'll be fine," Sora assured his friend with a grin. "You've more than proven you're worthy to succeed your father."

The new king of Pride Rock's eyes shone. "Thanks, Sora."

"Well," Anxclof announced abruptly, causing all eyes to turn to her, "as touching as this is, I've got somewhere to be."

Char gave her a suspicious look. The hell she did; she just wanted to steal Roxas away and be done with it. She tensed, ready to intercept Anxclof if she decided to open a portal right there.

"Anxclof?" Roxas followed after her as she began to make her way down to the king's den.

None of them could see what was going on between the two Nobodies, since Roxas and Anxclof had vanished into the king's den. But when the animals on the zenith of Pride Rock arrived in the hollow, only Roxas stood there, a look of numb shock and - what was that, sorrow? - on his features.

Sora approached Roxas with his mouth open, wanting to ask what had happened to make the golden lion look that way; the Keybearer had seen Roxas' experiences in his dreams long enough to know that Roxas was not easily shaken. But Roxas only hung his head and started plodding toward the entrance to the den, his tail drooping.

"Wonder what she said to him?" Goofy murmured to Sora. Sora could only shrug helplessly in response.

Char only spared them a passing glance as she walked right past them, to Sora's surprise and suspicion. He followed Char with narrowed eyes and watched her match Roxas' pace as she caught up to him.

"Looks like someone's jealous," Donald teased.

Sora whipped his head toward the duck and beat down the very small part of him that was agreeing with Donald. "Am not," he protested.

Sora, Donald, Goofy, Timon, and Pumbaa followed Char and Roxas down the rocky stairway from Pride Rock itself to the ground, where the lionesses had been joined by other animals, watching Simba come forward to survey his subjects. As Simba let out a ferocious roar that was taken up by the wildcats around them, Char reached the bottom of the stairway and turned to Roxas, who was padding up behind her. Curiosity got the better of her and she asked, "What did Anxclof say to you?"

As if you care, Roxas thought. He took a deep breath, fighting the very strong urge to tell her it was none of her business, then deciding that she would know soon anyway. "She wanted to know how I'd gotten here in the first place. I told her what I knew: that somehow, when Donald had transported Sora down here, I'd gotten ripped apart from his body."

"And?" Char pressed roughly.

Roxas jerked his head down, glaring at the ground. "Like I know what was going through her head at the time!" he spat angrily. "All she said was that if that was the case, then I would just recede back into Sora when we got back to the Gummi ship anyway."

Char blinked. Some part of her had seen this coming, ever since Donald had lectured them about having warned them about the possible results of using that new staff to go to other worlds. If the staff had taken Sora's heart apart, so to speak, then it could put him back together again.

Or could it? Char's breath caught. What if that staff, which had once belonged to a Heartless, only had a splitting effect when used in such a way? What if when they went back up to the Gummi ship, Roxas didn't vanish, but Sora's heart got torn beyond all repair? Her eyes began to sting and her vision began to blur at the thought.

She blinked repeatedly and shook her head to stave off the impending tears, knowing that Roxas was still watching her with a critical gaze. "So basically she decided you were a lost cause and left you?" the tiger queried.

Roxas nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off the ground. A flash of light appeared in his peripheral vision, but he ignored it for the sake of not wanting to meet Char's eyes. "In a nutshell, yeah," he muttered. "That, and I think Anx wants to get revenge on you and Sora properly. It's some kind of weird honor code she lives by, even when we were in the Organization. If she can't take it down herself, then she doesn't even bother."

Char was rendered speechless by her own surprise and frustration. Yes, Sora needed Roxas to complete his heart, but if Anxclof had decided to just take Roxas now, then they could be free of her entirely and Char could stop glancing over her shoulder for any ripple of dark brown hair or glitter of emerald eyes in the shadows. The tiger lashed her tail and braced her claws against the dirt, ignoring the fat raindrops that had began to spill onto her back in her anger. Dammit, Anxclof - just once could you try and make this journey easier on me?

"Char?"

Sora's voice snapped Char out of her thoughts. Feeling like she had just surfaced from deep, churning waters, she turned toward him. He stood there with the Circle of Life Keyblade in his jaws, and Char knew that the light she had seen earlier must have been of the Keyblade unlocking the way to more worlds.

She sighed inwardly. How many more worlds would they have to slog their way through before Riku and Mickey showed up?

"We're just getting ready to go," Sora told her, stubbornly refusing to look at Roxas. Char knew he was wondering what was going to happen to Roxas: the boy from his dreams who had shown up here for no particular reason at all. "We've already said goodbye to everyone, so we're leaving when you are."

"Right," she said, struck by a sudden desire to just move on. "I'm ready."

Roxas stood on heavy paws, and a distinctive shadow flickered over his blue eyes as he responded. "So am I."

"Here we go, then!" Donald lifted his staff into the air, and Char suddenly wanted to knock it away from him so he couldn't go through with this. She understood that none of the others knew, couldn't know why she was fidgeting, painfully aware of how the seconds it took for Donald to cast his spell dragged on, but the feeling of urgency and wondering frantically why no one would stop this wouldn't go away. So many thoughts were rushing through her mind. Something's going to go wrong, something bad is going to happen to Sora if we go back and what if Roxas doesn't return to his heart -

She opened her mouth at last, but it was already too late.

Spheres of green light enveloped them all and coalesced into thin beams, shooting upward toward the Gummi ship; except for the one that appeared around Roxas, which was black with swirling white, and the course of which was directed not toward the vessel waiting up above, but toward the sphere containing the Keybearer.

And Sora's world exploded.


Bum. Bum. BUMMMMM. :D Damn, I missed doing that.

Anyway, sorry for the mild OOC for Sora in the middle of the chapter. I figure even HE wouldn't trust Anxclof after what she did to him.

Now that you've read the chapter, I would like you all to REVIEW!