Whirlwind of broken glass

The all mighty CEO of Organization XIII sat behind a pane of glass and brushed a speck of dirt from his tan trench coat.

Quaking, Sora tamed his churning thoughts on a notepad. Yesterday, he lost sleep when the late night news announced the destruction of Organization XIII. The stately building, wrapped in platinum metal, bore jagged scars stretching across the floor to ceiling length windows. Cameras caught glimpses of ruin. Clothes hung on the ends of serrated glass. Tables upturned. Documents fluttered like paper airplanes. At one point, a giant, gold gilt chandelier popped out of the middle of the building, tumbling beads of crystals and long candles, and landing smack in the center of the tree lined plaza.

Poker chips rained from above. More silvers of glass. Curiously the security cameras caught no perpetrator and it got the police questioning.

Since the unexpected loss of three departments in one night, Org XIII faced heavy pressure from up-coming corporations. For this reason, the CEO staged a clever 'accident' to get insurance to offer exclusive coverage for damages incurred, a news reporter speculated.

Calling Vanitas gave him the usual, operator out of range message. Sora frowned at his phone, he forgot about his twin embarking on a mission.

Are we growing apart? He hysterically wondered. Of course he has to go. He's got stuff to do. I won't like it when he's hanging on my shoulder when I'm working.

Thinking about his brother on some distant micro-planet brought on a wave of worry he forcibly crushed. Returning to the television, Sora flicked through more news channels, each showed the sorry state of Organization XIII. A quick investigation found two dead and one horribly wounded. The mug shots of Vexen, the renowned scientist funded by the Organization and Marluxia, the most famous perfumer in the entirety of Los Angeles popped on two windows.

Sora gasped. The soft material of his pajama whispered over healing scars and he quickly checked the closet in the bathroom. Where am I gonna get my cologne now? What about aftershave?

Who on earth wanted to kill them? Everyone used Marluxia's products!

"We are running out of time," Phoenix prompted the dazed young attorney. "Why don't you ask some questions?"

07:30 a.m.

Police precinct

Detention Center

"M... me?" Sora squeaked when Xemnas impatiently shifted.

Apollo forcibly stuffed a bagel in his mouth this morning. He ordered coffee from the rustic cafe downstairs and demanded Sora drink it. Astonished by how his senior appeared so much like Trucy, Sora meekly finished his pastry before Phoenix swung by the office and announced they were due at the Detention center.

At the request of Xemnas Terra-Xehanort no less.

The air suddenly grew too stuffy for Sora to breath. He petrified under the CEO's scrutiny. Flickers of elusive emotion crossing his dark, handsome face. Something akin to amusement and... longing? A bit creeped by the attention, Sora wiped sweaty palms on his slacks.

Urk, please don't notice me.

"Do you want me to question him?" Wright interrupted while the associate wrestled with his scarf. Sora nodded, relived. Accepting the extensive questionnaire and grinning wryly, Phoenix took a seat opposite the defendant. "I trust you did not kill your managers like the media reports?" he asked, fisting the magatama hidden in his pocket.

The accused's irises flicked to Wright's pocket for a split second.

"Why would I want to do that Mr. Wright?" Xemnas sighed. "I was in a meeting with the Amano Group when this fiasco occurred. I returned late at night and was surprised by the destruction as much as everyone else." He brushed his hair elegantly from his face. "It is true Organization XIII's sales dipped after theincident; therefore I struck a deal to loan my employees to business partners. It would be to my detriment if I killed them off now, wouldn't it?" he voiced huskily.

Checking the questions, Phoenix decided the CEO did not lie, yet. The split second gaze at his pocket unsettled him. Xemnas did not possess second sight did he? Of course not, he was an average Joe.

A tall, dark and extremely rich Joe.

"Do you know anyone who might do this?" Wright probed. "The security cameras, designed by your people no less, picked nothing. I suppose you understand what this means?" The defendant nodded slowly. "Organization XIII boasts cutting edge technology." Phoenix seized a silent moment to pay due respect to his ancient, yet working phone. "If someone from outside tampered with it, they would leave traces," he noted the main points on the questionnaire. "The people who were murdered, Mr. Vexen and Marluxia; I understand the former is not strictly of your company?"

The defendant clasped his hands together. "Vexen is an outstanding scientist whom I recruited for the Replica Project. Marluxia I found after he displayed his talent." Xemnas uncrossed and crossed his legs. "The Replica Project," he supplied without further prompting, "is a highly confidential experiment to recreate biological beings... soldiers."

Soldiers.

He never considered Roxas a solider.

"-For the government, to supplement the army," the CEO droned like a lifeless mouthpiece. "The KBWA is aware of this project and wants to shut it down at all costs. This is where we differ and this is where the KBWA makes sparks against the government."

Replica Project. Wright mused. Mr. Xehanort, you aren't telling me the whole truth.

Fingers curling on the backrest, Sora listened to the accused. Replica Project? It sounded like a bunch of lies. Was technology advanced enough to create living beings nearly identical to humans? No knobby shadows sprung at Xemnas' feet.

His presence filled the detention center like a black hole. Sora swung unsteadily on his feet, the floor rocked underneath and he renewed his vise grip on the back of the chair. Xemnas commanded attention in the room, the camera trained on him, the guard stared at him. He sat on the chair and absorbed everything.

A black hole.

Phoenix resumed questioning, "Are you insinuating the KBWA might be responsible for these deaths?"

"It is hardly the first time they decided to sink their hands deep into dirty blood." Xemnas straightened his tie and Sora's mind wandered, did Axel design the tie? "Let me refresh your memory by reminding you they were responsible for Roxas' death and the imprisonment of a valuable employee of mine."

Definitely Axel.

"To be fair," Wright placed the note face down and leaned forward, "the delivery boy... Roxas... was commanded to commit murder. I had no idea he had a part time job as an assassin."

A headache beat at Xemnas' temples. Burnished gold irises flicked to Sora. So alike and yet so different. One of light, the other of pure darkness. "Where is your brother?" he unexpectedly rasped. "Where is Vanitas?" He pushed his hair back from his finely wrinkled forehead.

Fear crashed into Sora like an icy tidal wave and he stumbled back. The black hole sensation intensified till he tumbled in an endless tunnel of nothing. Nothing. The transparent orange outlines vanished, replaced by the hypnotic glimmer of an ebony, oily sea.

"What do you want with Vanitas?" Sora growled venomously and clutched his muffler. The scrape of the chair preceded the appearance of Mr. Wright. The room whirled and the tangerine settings of the other world returned. Sora's hands grew cold, he shook and his boss gently grabbed his shoulders. "Leave me alone!" Sora tore out of the grasp and lurched to the exit. "I want... I need some time alone." At the threshold, he fearfully glanced back at Xemnas.

The man stood. "My apologies." He rubbed his eyes. "I did not mean to startle you." Xemnas clenched his hands tightly, nails pressing into his palm, drawing blood. "Roxas," he spat and pressed firmly on his mouth, "is not an assassin. His orders..."

A grainy memory. Did he really issue the order for the destruction of The King? How come he was still alive? The puppet failed? Pathetic.

Pathetic.

Pathetic.

Goddamn pathetic. Nothing ever gets done unless he personally handles it.

Wrestling with a sea-saw of emotions, Xemnas slowly retook his seat. "Mr. Wright, I did not commit the murders, my company is my pride and joy," he tiredly stated. "I can direct you to the KBWA, if anyone can infiltrate Organization XIII, it is them. If you are searching for a motive," a pregnant pause, "I bribed the police to arrest Leonhart. I humiliated him. I do not know if he would stoop so low, it is not like him, but nothing else comes to mind."

Phoenix quickly summarized the statements and quietly thanked the brooding suspect. For half a minute, the man genuinely scared him. He certainly made an impression on Sora, who scurried out of the detention center and waited outside, undoubtedly complaining to his twin about the nasty business of dealing with deranged CEO's. Vanitas probably slept with a kill list under his pillow. Wright emerged to warm, weak sunshine and coughed to make himself heard.

The young attorney whipped around.

"I'm not the only one who... did you see?" Sora frantically gestured to the detention center. "For a moment, his face and chin... it was so old. Did the magatama pick up any Psyche locks?" he rapidly questioned.

Strange. Phoenix rubbed his chin thoughtfully. No black locks. "No," he responded and Sora deflated. "However, everyone has a couple of black locks," he explained and walked to the edge of the pavement to hail a taxi. "They are unbreakable and I theorized they are the lies a person's entire life is based on. Breaking them... unlocking them, will result in the erasing of their ego. A breakdown of their character." A cab sailed to a stop and they climbed in. "Xemnas didn't have any locks, nothing at all." Wright re-read the scribbled statements and shared his findings with Sora.

"I didn't like the way he looked at me." Sora rested his forehead against the window. A couple strolled down the avenue, wearing matching, navy blue outfits. The guy gently held the girl's hand and she beamed at him.

Wright grinned ruefully. "You don't like it when anyone looks at you."

School children dashed across the roads, a harried, resigned-to-punishment expression on their face. "True," Sora mumbled. "But he... he made me really uncomfortable. Like he opened my ribcage and peered into my heart." The blue badger directed traffic at a circle and waved when the taxi drove past. "When he asked about Vanitas I felt scared. Like... like he forced me under a pool of fear. For a moment, I swear it wasn't Xemnas who was speaking. Is he one who asked the delivery guy to kill me?" Sora loosened his cashmere muffler and irritably pulled the black ribbon tie around his shirt collar free. "This material is scratchy." He carefully avoided the awkward, driver and backseat passenger eye contact.

Wishing his scatterbrained employee discussed murder business elsewhere, Wright cautiously responded, "He seemed troubled when I asked him about it. Perhaps Xehanort suffers from a split personality?" A mad, poisonous gleam glazed the CEO's normally impassive eyes. "We should check his medical records for investigative purposes."

The hum of an engine and the muted noise of traffic filled the silence in the cab.

Turning the corner at the Kitaki mansion, the taxi continued straight, past the chain-link fence of People's Park. Toddlers, attended by mothers and the occasional father, played on the bars and swung with carefree abandon on the swing sets.

"If you don't want to work on this case-" Phoenix began.

"I'm okay with it," Sora interjected. "I want to know the truth about Organization XIII and the KBWA." The orange mountain peak sparkled in the sky. "And the boy who died. We still don't know who killed him..." he trailed off.

The cab halted in front of the Multiplan.

"The KBWA claims responsibility." On the pavement, Phoenix deliberated on getting desserts. Should he order one from the Gatewater Hotel? Or pay a quick service to the Kitaki cafe? Sora hates crowds. Hotel it is. "I don't want," Wright faced his timid employee, his eyes clear like blue glass. Transparent. A man and yet naivety shone cleanly on his face. "Sora, I don't want you to get hurt. You are very important to me and to the agency."

I don't want you to look me the way Apollo does.

Crimson tinted Sora's tanned cheeks. "Thank you Mr. Wright. I will... I promise to do my best," he stammered. "I'll win this case for sure," he smiled brightly, "we know Xemnas is not guilty of the crimes against him. I'll defend him, no one deserves to go to prison for stuff they didn't do." Humming confidently, he entered the lobby while Wright stood on the pavement. "Aren't you coming up?"

"Go ahead," Phoenix waved him away. "I remembered Trucy wanted a crepe-cake," he grinned, "I don't want to disappoint her."

Politely dipping his head, Sora headed for the elevators, the people milling in the lobby swallowed him from view.

Treasure.

Piles of golden coins heaped in corners, their luster dimly illuminating the cove's salt streaked walls. An emerald encrusted crown, strings of luminous pearls and medals glittered in heaps.

He kicked the mountains of treasure and a cascade of coins buried a bejeweled axe hilt. Hiking up the hills of gold, Vanitas pried a wooden chest apart, adding a load of uncut sapphires to the heap. Donald uncovered a scepter and waved it. He promptly discarded it when the rod failed to conduct magic like his staves.

"Do pirates come here?" Vanitas questioned. "How come it's so full?" He picked a medallion and spun it to the air. When they neared Dead Man's Cove, Donald cast a powerful aeroga and cleared the skies from clouds; moonlight caught on the spinning coin, reflecting details of bygone kingdoms. "You would think anyone with half a brain would at least go home with a chest full of this stuff." The coin fell back into the pile with a pleasant clink and he grabbed a sapphire, turning it over in pale fingers.

Jack stabbed his sword in the treasure. "It's cursed," he whispered dramatically and Vanitas scoffed. "Tell him, it's cursed," he jerked his chin at Riku.

The glitz of gold and silver bathed the cave with a preternatural glow. Gemstones sparkled, the lure of a thousand colors rippling across its smooth surfaces. "Anyone who takes the treasure becomes a member of the undead." Riku pointedly tilted his head when the Black Saint snuck a rough sapphire in his pocket. "Put it down," he ordered and tensed when Clavius held on to the gem.

He raised it to moonlight. "Can't I take a tiny gemstone?" he pouted. "No supernatural Aztec God will miss it," Vanitas insisted. "It's not even cut." He waved the sapphire in the air.

"Your powers of persuasion need working," Riku drawled. "And you are still obsessed with Fair."

"Basically I can't take it?" Vanitas confirmed, controlling his wrath fuelled, ragged breathing. "Che." He tossed the gemstone back, where it joined a flow of polished rubies and slid into the gaps created by a cluster of ceremonial swords. "So all those undead were people who stole this treasure? Where did the treasure go?"

Heavy boot steps echoed at the entrance of the Cove.

"As you can see," an unknown voice joined the conversation, "the treasure is still here."

The KBWA members turned to the new comer, basking in a silver-white moonbeam. Sounds of the sea echoed from the far off shore.

"I thought he'd be more zombie like." Vanitas stepped out of the Cove's glowing interior and summoned Two Become One. "Unfortunately he's a boring old man. I like your hat, I think I'll take it." His companions flanked him on either sides, flashes of light materializing into a wizard staff and an emblazoned shield respectively.

A dark shadow coiled around Barbarossa. "Who is this upstart?" he demanded.

"I am Vanitas, this is Donald and that's Goofy," Vanitas pointed to the duck and dog respectively. "You are the leader of the undead pirates aren't you? Your zombie guys are a pain to get rid of." Saying this, he lunged, Keyblade poised to stab.

And jerked back when the moonlit cove plunged into a blinding darkness.

A jagged sword sliced across his lower ribs. Fabric ripping, Vanitas reeled backwards. He tripped over a boulder conveniently laying in his way and swearing vehemently, sprawled headfirst to the unforgiving ground.

Pieces of broken shell nicked his face. Sparrow jumped over him and tangled swords with Barbarossa, the dance of blades flashed quicksilver.

"What happened to the light?" He tasted iron. Blood. "The clouds are thin. Riku, did you do something?" Vanitas ripped his eye patch and his vision adjusted to the gloom.

Charging after the heartless, Riku's Keyblade missed it by mere inches. "Nothing which would put us at a disadvantage." He faltered when Vanitas smacked into him. "Clavius, get out of my way." Grabbing the Black Saint, he shoved him towards Jack and Barbarossa, exchanging blows. "Keep Barbarossa busy, there is a heartless on the loose."

The Illuminator darted across the rocks, a shadowy lantern bobbing on its tail. It scampered between two tight walls and wedging Soul Eater between the rough rock faces, Nox fired a multitude of spells.

Escaping the rush of fire and dark energy clawing for its tail, the Illuminator climbed upwards, a bright pearl of light fluttering in its lantern.

Bang!

A bullet grazed Vanitas' temple and he cursed the lack of light. Each time he adjusted, another layer of cloying blackness choked him. Barbarossa pushed Sparrow off the raised walkway, the whimsical captain laid on the pebbly ground instead of getting up and fighting.

Stabbing the undead pirate produced no results. Two Become One went through Barbarossa's ribs so frequently, Vanitas suspected the man hardly cared if he got stabbed. Fair enough. Blasting him with a dark cannon only served to melt the clothes off his body and for once, Vanitas thanked the darkness.

He panted. Sweat steamed the roots of his hair, the stench of the sea, or perhaps it was Barbarossa, nauseated him. The Grey Knight chased after an indistinct shadow, scrambling here and there and Vanitas scoffed. The damn pansy couldn't get rid of a feeble heartless. A dark firaga briefly painted the surroundings an angry, bruised orange before fading. Flashes of thunder growled across the sky and Goofy threw his shield; Barbarossa caught it, wrist bent at an awkward angle and chuckled humorlessly as he flung it back.

"You can't kill me," he wheezed and glanced at a cutlass emerging from between his ribs. "Nice try Captain," he sneered and elbowed Jack in the face. "I am invulnerable. There is no light to save you."

Flinging his pirate hat away, Vanitas called Donald and Goofy. "Do you think I'll gain an edge on him if I go into a Drive Form?" His companions stayed silent. "…One of the rare moments I ask for advice and the only thing you two can do for me is gawk!" Vanitas scathed.

"Gawrsh, we can try." Goofy followed Riku, thundering after the Illuminator. "Donald?"

"We hardly have any choice," the duck quacked. "Do you need both of us or?"

An aura of wholesome, golden light surrounded Vanitas. He distastefully pulled his clothes, tinting to a sunshine yellow and black. A second Keyblade appeared in front of him and he clutched it tightly, feeling its weight before raising them both to the air.

"I haven't mastered dual wielding," he commented. "I might slice you into uneven pieces."

In the background, Nox sighed and switched Keyblades. He flung Braveheart and it cut a silver streak across the darkened cove.

To Vanitas' astonishment, Barbarossa guffawed. The maniacal cackles bubbled through the twin, clean stabs through his chest and he brought his arm up. Retreating quickly, Vanitas crossed his blades and launched a double, dark cannon.

Nothing.

His eyes widened.

Teeth gritted determinedly, he struck low. Void Gear should have cleaved the undead Pirate's jaw clean off, but it merely bounced back. Undeterred, he sliced at the arms. Nothing. Pulling back, he blinked at the sudden surge of moonlight.

Barbarossa's eerie laugh sputtered to a stop and he scowled furiously at the moon.

02:45 p.m.

Organization XIII

Laboratory

Fluid from a plexiglass tube leaked across the floor. A faint smell of bleach permeated the laboratory and Sora shuffled through the carpet of broken glass, gradated beakers and the remains of someone's research notes soaking in the mess on the ground.

When he arrived at the plaza in front of the headquarters, doing his best to avoid Detective Gumshoe, Sora methodically combed the perimeter, astonished by the stray glass shards speared into the trees lining the streets below. Ms. Fey, who accompanied him, did the unpleasant business of talking while he watched the people with a thoughtful frown.

A man near the gates gazed shiftily and ambled out, head hung low.

Who was he?

Forensics scrutinized the materials found in the laboratory. A chalk outline replaced Vexen's corpse. Several computers whirred while digital forensics downloaded their contents to portable drives. One overheated and burst into flames. The man desperately wheeled himself away from the flaming device and cursed.

Cue the remaining computers going off in a blazing inferno.

The laboratory went through a second soaking as the sprinkles activated. Safe under an umbrella Maya produced from... somewhere, Sora listened to the drops plopping on the floor and pondered on the outline.

Vexen, killed by four adjacent, evenly spaced stabs under his left rib. Through the heart. A messy array of blood spatters decorated the floor in front of him.

The blood stains...odd.

All scientific implements smashed. Chemicals flowed into a soup, burning holes through the tiles and gnawing on concrete. The plexiblass tubes too, smashed haphazardly, its wires trailing the occasional spark when it came in contact with fluid.

Whoever wrecked Organization XIII, failed to damage the computers.

Or did they leave the databases intact on purpose?

The sprinklers stopped raining and people rushed back to complete the investigation. Gravitating away from them, Sora glued his gaze on the ground and wandered. He stopped at a mark on the floor.

A shoe print? In front of where the body lay, or fell. Far beyond that, the very messy blood spatters.

Like flecks sucked outwards.

A blood spatter analyst crouched at the rusty stains getting diluted by water and frantically snapped photos. Screwing his courage, Sora approached bravely, rehearsing his questions.

"The analysis... err... spatter." Great. "It's far from the body. Does blood normally fall so far?" he questioned, hoping the scientist will not ask him to repeat the question.

He pushed the goggles from his eyes. "Not really," he admitted. "The spatter pattern and distance indicates the victim was stabbed forcefully. But I'm told there is hardly any blood on his body, it's relatively clean." He zoned on a photograph of the blood stains. "It's like whatever stabbed him, pushed the blood out."

"Push... pushed the blood out?" Sora frowned.

The analyst waved his hand. "I know, I sound crazy. Too long in this field and you start questioning your sanity." He returned to the mess on the floor. "I'll let you know if I find anything else.

Relieved when Maya clomped into the crime scene with her stained wooden clogs. Seriously, how does she wear those? Sora joined her in rifling through the bags of evidence the forensic scientists collected. Their not so subtle glowers stirred the anxiety in Sora's stomach but he projected a facade of careless calm, he hoped so, and acted like he belonged there.

Scraps of cream fabric lay among the debris. The material whispered silk in his fingers and patches of rust stained the edges. Rubbing it, he presented the ragged piece of cloth to Maya.

"Where did this come from?" she asked the lead investigator.

"We found fragments of it in the laboratory and most of it in the perfumery upstairs," she informed. "We believe the perpetrator wore it, the main component is silk," the investigator said.

Silk... like the shirts Xemnas wore.

"Pal!" Detective Gumshoe boisterously called. "It's not a coincidence meeting you here is it?" he scratched the back of his head. "I feel for you pal, you get all the tough cases."

You don't say.

"It's not looking too good." Dick retrieved the pencil behind his ear and scribbled in his threadbare notepad. "Did you check the security camera records?" he pressed, "you should see them, whoever did this is a ghost. No presence."

Maya perked, the magatama around her neck glowing. "You believe in spirits detective?" she questioned, a sly sparkle in her dreamy irises. "Is there a loved one you desperately want to see?"

The Detective instinctively neatened his shabby, olive green coat. "Well, there is someone I miss," he reluctantly admitted. "She changed jobs again and I haven't seen her in quite a while." A light blush dusted his stubble speckled cheeks.

"Is she dead?"

Ms. Fey, you're scaring him.

"What? No!" Gumshoe twitched back. "That wasn't funny pal!" he scowled. Maya broke into a giggle and Sora bit his lips in an effort to control his laughter; he turned his head, an obstinate smile spreading across his face. "Mr. Wright corrupted you," the detective lamented, "and here I am risking my job by offering you evidence."

They crammed together in the surprisingly tiny control room

Claustrophobic, Sora squeezed against the wall. A technician sifted through the records. The cameras trained in the elegant hallways showed no stranger accidentally waltzing into view. Instead, and to everyone's collective confusion, a vicious tempest ripped the windows and uprooted the lush green pot plants placed at regular intervals. The terracotta pots smashed, soil crumbled to the floor. Doors screeched on their hinges before the camera feed cut to black.

"Check the other feeds," Gumshoe ordered.

Again, a violent windstorm, rattling doors and windows. Blades of wind cut gashes into the walls and scorch marks appeared in the tiled corridor.

"What... what about the security footage in the laboratory and perfumery?" Sora stammered when the attention swiveled to him. "I want to see it," he asserted when the technician turned to the detective for permission.

Gumshoe scratched his head and nodded.

The laboratory film showed a blond, lank haired scientist working at his bench, messy with pages containing mind-numbingly difficult equations. The man frowned, craned his neck to the window and a blast of wind turned the feed into a field of fuzzy static.

In the perfumery, Marluxia swept his hand across his gleaming table, smashing countless slender vials to the floor. He stood straighter when the bottles on his shelf shook. A jagged hole appeared in the floor to ceiling length window behind him and again, the footage short-circuited to dancing, silver static.

The ghostly whirl of a cape appeared at the edge of the camera a split second before the feed died.

"Sir!"

A junior investigator barged into the already crowded chamber and Sora stuck like a limpet against the wall.

"We pried the door to the Level 2 offices apart." He saluted. "And these," he handed a stack of photographs to Gumshoe, "the workshop is mutilated beyond repair. There are no visible signs of fire but most of the metal melted and reformed into misshapen lumps," the officer reported. "We also found unknown fingerprints and a strand of hair; those were sent for DNA analysis."

Curious, Sora stood on tiptoes and peeked behind the detective's broad back. Glossy, high definition photographs exhibited the state of the weapons laboratory. Broken weapons and bullets of all calibers spilled to the floor. Shredded blueprints, scraps of paper bearing weapon designs... all destroyed.

All lost.

He accepted the evidence and somberly filed them away in his court records while Maya questioned the investigator. The shoe mark bothered him. Sora recalled the skittish, scrawny man at the entrance of Organization XIII's sprawling compound.

Who was he?

Keeper

Chamber of Waking

Castle Oblivion.

"I couldn't save Terra."

She said and gently brushed the sleeping boy's cheek. He was a mute witness, watching her break down with closed eyelids.

"I'm sorry, Ven."

Aqua gave up agonizing over the change in her hair and eyes. Gold and silver go good together, she smiled ruefully in a mirror.

She cradled the boy's limp body in her arms as the sigils she placed in the chamber faded. Chains of light crumbled. The throne; she could dismantle it and set it up again. Ven's uncommon sleeping place was the only relic to their past.

His eyelids stirred and she kissed his forehead. "I'll keep you safe," she vowed. Ventus nestled his head in the crook of her neck. "Nothing will stop me from keeping you safe." Her eyes flashed gold. "You are the only thing I have."

He sat on the low wall, bright blue eyes absorbing the world.

Time trickled through a never ending hourglass. People were born, they aged, they died. Those who laughed with him today on the low wall...

Years later and with nothing but a vague feeling of sadness crushing his chest, he marked their graves with fallen Keyblades in an arid field choking with dust.

Time marched relentlessly.

And he decided to grab its reins one night, when he stood at another low wall, watching stars raining down on a distant horizon. His mind as clean as a slate. Could he force time to stop for him? For them?

Ventus slumbered, centuries' worth of memories fluttering like caged birds in his skull.

A/N: "I'm Sora, this is Donald and that's Goofy," – half way through the games, and Sora still reminds us who he is. If anyone is confused, Aqua moved herself and Ventus from Castle Oblivion to the dead planet of Olympus where they currently reside.

Once again, please read and review. Much thanks to all the readers