Case Four

The throne grows cold. Petals bloom anew

Laid down gently, the boy's dreams brew,

of golden eyes and brown hair

of a jealousy and hatred most unfair

Beyond the shore

Only one topic dominated the news for the past few days.

The liquidation of Organization XIII.

Trucy sighed, annoyed by the news. Why didn't newscasters show something positive for a change? The media liked to drone about disaster and betrayals and who got stabbed and how many people died. Snatching a blueberry pancake off the tea cart, she pressed against Phoenix, watching the news with a pensive frown; and trawled through the photos on her phone.

Nervous butterflies fluttered in her stomach at the images of the amusement park outing. The magic show stage, lit in the glitter colors of amber and gold, blazed against the dusky hue of evening. One photo showed Vanitas, devouring an ice-cream while a girl ogled him from the background. Another snapshot showed the three of them, mouth wide open in infectious glee.

Outside, crinkled leaves battered the windows. The wind whistled and a chill seeped in. Slurping the spiced hot chocolate Pearl graciously made for everyone at the agency, Trucy set her new phone face down on the table, and tightly wrapped her fingers around the mug.

Sora entered the lounge and the sharp air of winter followed him inside. He snagged a piping hot mug of hot chocolate before turning his attention to the old fashioned television.

"Everyone is talking about it." He gestured with his chin to the dolled up newscaster standing in front of the once luxurious headquarters. "I can't believe they're breaking apart!" his voice rose hysterically. "Where am I gonna get my things?" Sora lamented. "My perfume and aftershave is finished." He sunk on the couch, miserably adjusting a thick muffler around his collar. "Mr. Wright, do you have work for me? I'm tired of watching the news."

Wright abruptly shut the television off as the rest of the agency's residents spilled into the lounge.

He wrapped an arm around Trucy, while the others perched on the sofas. Athena stood near the window and sprinkled water on Charley.

"You've been with us for quite some time now," Phoenix began and smiled leniently at Sora. The junior associate gripped the mug like his life depended on it. "Hmm... around one and a half years?"

"Nineteen months," Apollo cut in. A bejeweled clip glittered in his hair.

"Nineteen months," Phoenix relented. "So I thought it's high time you get your own office." His mud blue irises softened, "you deserve it." He rose from the couch and Trucy joined him, excitement shining on her face. "Your place is adjacent to mine, we are all in the same hallway, come with me," Phoenix led the way and the rest trooped behind him.

10:15 a.m.

Wright and Co. Lawyer's agency

Sora's office

My office...

He could hardly stop the elated tremor in his hands. A wide smile cut Sora's face and he gingerly entered his office, gawking at a sleek, chrome and wood bookshelf behind his table.

"Mr. Wright... I... uh... thank; thank you!" he stuttered, cheeks flushed in pleasant surprise. Mementos from Athena and Apollo lined the bookshelf. A couple of box files filled one cubicle, case names glistening on the spines in silver. Trucy's magic top hat graced another section of the shelf, the blue satin bringing a pop of color to the grey and brown office. "I'm really grateful," Sora stepped in, fingers skimming his glass desk. He jerked his hand back when the entire table lit up and flashed a greeting across the giant screen.

Good morning Sora, the message read before it dissolved into a background. It displayed a picture of his office.

A smart table? His eyebrows joined the hairline when the entire table hummed gently. Wow... I have a smart table? Icons lined one side of the screen, and he tapped one, grinning when a window opened. A clock ticked in the corner. Case information in yellow folders were grouped on the opposite edge of the screen.

"This is a smart table," he blurted, unable to believe his good fortune. "I always wanted one!" he gushed. "How... where did you get it?" As the novelty of the new office seeped in, Sora realized furnishing the chamber must have cost an exorbitant amount of munny. "Organization XIII announced the first smart table, but it's not coming out until next year..." He docked his phone on a wireless charging port and his phone began charging.

Am I dreaming? This is too good to be true!

Face washed by the lambent glow from the table, Maya poked it. "It's a gift." She beamed and Sora stammered another round of thanks. "I asked the KBWA to design one for you," she said. "You deserve it after everything you did, both for the Association and for the agency. I'm glad you like it."

Are you kidding me? I love it!

"When I asked Vanitas for ideas to decorate your office, he handed me this." Apollo, frowns on his forehead mellowing, pointed to the low coffee table. "It's the Kingdom Key Keyblade bust, and it's crafted from real gold and silver." He fussily angled the heavy bust. "I hope no one gets an idea to steal it."

The Kingdom Key bust? Sora paled.

"What is this heavy lump in your backpack?" Sora complained and uncovered a statue of a Keyblade. "Where did you get this?"

"I stole it," Vanitas, sprawled over the chaise lounge and mouth crammed full of pocky sticks, informed.

"You... you what?"

The raven haired twin sat up. "It's no big deal, at least I know they don't have cameras inside the Association," his lips pulled into a vampiric grin, "and if no one fried my butt for stealing it, it can't be that important." He shoveled another handful of chocolate sticks in his mouth. "You're supposed to eat pocky with me," Vanitas waved a box, "the banana flavored one," he snickered, "remember you lost the bet."

"You don't like the bust?" Athena asked, fingers twirling her hair. "It's magnifique! Imagine," her brilliant blue eyes sparkled in the rays of weak sunshine poking through the blinds, "it's made of precious metals!"

I'd appreciate it if it wasn't stolen!

"No, I like it." Sora exhaled. "The office, it's really... it's a dream come true." He bowed respectfully to his boss. "I'll do my best from now on, thank you for looking out for me." He blushed again when Phoenix gently clasped his shoulder.

Slowly, the group filed out one by one, giving Sora space. Buzzing, he crashed into the swivel chair behind the table and immediately fell on the smart table, determined to explore. The faint smell of leather and wood hung in the office and he delightedly went through the settings, customizing the interface to his liking.

The electronic devices slid into a tray and Vanitas slogged to the elevator, tucked in a corner of the luxurious reception. Belle settled behind her gleaming, wooden counter booth and the fancy lights dangling above each cubicle lit simultaneously, bathing the lobby with an ambient glow.

In the elevator, Vanitas yawned and tore into a vending machine sandwich. His brother woke long enough to exchange small talk, before drifting into sweet slumber. Lacing his boots, he squared his shoulders and the lift doors opened to Basement floor 6

He stalked through an archway and ducked when a tome, pages fluttering, soared over his head. Spitting curses at the group of rookies fooling around in the library, he navigated the twisted aisles and joined the rest of his co-workers at an ancient, oak table carved with glowing sigils.

Another loud yawn announced his presence. He searched for a place to sit and grumbled under his breath.

Spread out on the table, an enlarged map of the commercial district showed the headquarters of Organization XIII. Hercules drew a close perimeter around the behemoth building and inked another two perimeters a few centimeters apart. Beyond the last red boundary, he marked a dozen crosses in strategic places.

Forcibly keeping his eyes open, Vanitas stifled another yawn and popped a coffee candy in his mouth. Nox did not join the little congregation, but Cloud pored over the schematics intently, mako irises dilating.

Hercules folded his sculpted arms. "I'll be taking point in this assignment," he announced with a handsome smile. Cloistered by massive bookshelves crammed with chained volumes, the space radiated a secret compartment aura. "We are to supervise the nobodies and make sure they don't leave any lasting legacies behind." Hercules traced the first barrier with his finger. "I'll station our most capable members here," he stated. "Clavius, Strife, you two will take opposing points. Yuffie, Neku, Snow and their groups will make up the rest." The named agents nodded solemnly. "I'll be in the middle ring," Hercules further elaborated. "Here," he pointed to the outer ring, "Peter Pan and the low-tiers can keep a look out."

He waited for a question but the group simply confirmed their positions with their companions and nodded gravely to each other.

"Donald and Goofy will join me," Vanitas informed. "They'll blow my head off if I leave on an assignment without them," he aggressively explained to Yuffie who grinned teasingly.

The mission leader agreed, "They are welcome to join."

A new sheet with diagrams replaced the map and a gaggle of excited voices floated over the top of the bookshelves.

"Tidus!" a girl exclaimed, "look, it's a tiny model of a town. The people are moving!"

Wishing he went to bed rather than stay up half the night harvesting his summer crops in Story of Seasons, Vanitas growled, "What's Leon thinking, taking on a bunch of babies as rookies?" The voices hushed immediately. "Much better," he loudly proclaimed, "get on with the briefing, staying cooped in here is making my brain fuzzy."

Hercules resumed, "The police will aid us. There will be a blockade on the two main streets leading to and from Organization XIII. Also, the branch stores have all been shut down. I'm not sure what they are going to do with their merchandise," he muttered, "it's not like they need it..."

"How about they donate their stuff to us?" Sakuraba, Level 9 headphones dangling around his neck, suggested. "We could reverse engineer their technology and use it to supplement our own."

"If we do so," Cloud interjected, "the government will pressure us to design state-of-the-art craft. And if they get wind of the Replica ... or the Super Soldier project," a tense pause as a couple of books tumbled from a far-off shelf, "they will pester Leon to create something like Roxas." Several members stiffened. "Whatever material they have, they can keep it. If Xemnas does hand it over, it'll go straight to headquarters."

Silence, thick and choking. The tint of musty pages and ancient stone flooded the library.

Gathering the schematics and mission plans, Hercules dismissed the meeting and everyone slunk out. Turning a corner, Vanitas bumped into Goofy and timorously complained about the torture of pre-dawn assignments. The anthropomorphic dog listened to him and graciously offered a potion.

"Do you know about the Super Soldier project?" Vanitas bluntly questioned and his companion shook his head. "The Organization does some nasty stuff don't they?" he sighed and pulled the logo on his leather tunic.

"The Super Soldier project was initiated by the KBWA," Strife replied. "We had a scientist on my home planet... my planet is gone," he clarified when Vanitas opened his mouth and flushed guiltily, "and he created the first successful Super Soldier." Cloud's irises narrowed like a lens zooming on an object. He strapped his gloves securely around his wrists. "You know who I'm talking about," he added before moodily skulking away.

Vanitas dropped into one of the comfortable armchairs arranged around a common reading table. Brass lamps with glass shades illuminated age old stains on the surface of the desk and he scowled irritably when one of the rookies came in. The boy sported sand blonde hair and Vanitas raised an offended eyebrow at the ragged, asymmetrical pants. Flipping open his outdated phone, Vanitas pretended to be busy, he didn't want a brat chattering his ear off.

"You're the Black Saint aren't you?" Tidus brazenly marched to the brooding figure clad in all black. "I'm told you are the King's brother."

The boy brought the nostalgic scent of sand and sea to Vanitas who looked up, features softening. Memory pulled him to the edge of the beach, the salt tinged air caressing his cheeks. "Yeah, we're twins," he dismissively stated. "Sora is normally busy with other stuff, you won't see him around." A silver chain glimmered around Tidus' neck and momentarily distracted, Vanitas mumbled, "Although, you might catch him in the complex with Riku... The Grey Knight. They train together."

Bright sunshine and glossy palm trees. He scampered across the beach, sand underneath his bare feet and screeched at his brother to keep up.

Tidus smiled, his guarded expression cracking into one of eager anticipation. "Is it true the King is from Destiny Islands?" he demanded, ocean blue eyes shining. "I'm from there too, but," his face darkened, "Destiny Islands doesn't exist anymore."

He spent the last two hours tinkering with the smart table, Sora enabled a digital assistant and giggled madly at the crabby little avatar. Apollo entered half an hour ago, balancing a plate of rice balls and sat on a faux leather ottoman placed in front of the table.

"Goodbye Sora," the table greeted, its electronic voice strangely affectionate and the interface powered down. Chin cupped into his hands, Sora zoned out. The office whirled around him, familiar yet alien at the same time. He absentmindedly nibbled on a rice ball while his senior kept a comfortable silence.

A small wardrobe in the corner, I could keep my scarves and extra clothes in there.

On the coffee table, a delicate glass penholder remained bare. Finally, a place for my expensive pens.

"Where's Trucy?" Sora licked a stubborn grain of rice stuck to his bottom lip. "It's boring without her." He reached for a second rice ball. "Is everything alright?" The tart flavor of pickled plums tingled on his tongue. "She's kinda quiet these days."

"So you noticed," Apollo grunted. "Usually she goes really quiet when it's time for exams, but that's not the case anymore." He toyed with the clip in his hair. "...Maybe it's the changing weather," the sun played hide and seek behind thick, dark clouds, "all this gloominess is making me depressed."

Darkness.

A rippling sea of ebony. Wave crests reflecting the golden glow of a heart shaped moon.

On the pebbly beach, Roxas bled from a giant, cross shaped scar on his chest. His dulled eyes fixated on the stones. Crouching, Sora wiped a tear leaking from the teenager's cheek, his fear momentarily dampened.

"I didn't want to die," Roxas gasped. "I didn't want to kill you either. Please don't take it personally."

"Don't worry about Trucy," Apollo cut into Sora's recollection of a recent nightmare. "She'll bounce back to her cheery self. There, she's already normal," he grumbled good-naturedly when Trucy paraded past the open door, chasing after Pearl. "Are you alright?"

Cracking into a smile, Sora raised his thumb. "Never better," he assured. "Though, I'm a little sad to see Organization XIII go." He ran a hand through his hair, making it stick upright in more messy angles.

The scent of lavender preluded the approach of Athena, she flopped into a seat adjacent to Apollo and eagerly peered at the table. "Did you check all its functions?" she demanded and Sora nodded, powering up the table like a child showing off his favorite toy. "Ach! It greets you the same way Widget greets me." She scooted next to Sora who shifted to accommodate her. "Is this supposed to be Vanitas?" she laughed at the tiny animated avatar glaring at her from the screen, "he's cute. Hmm..." Cykes tapped the screen thoughtfully, "the KBWA has remarquable technology."

Overwhelmed by the futuristic table, Apollo checked the underside. A lot of ports and USB sockets. A little antenna too. "Organization XIII also has access to this type of technology," he gravely reminded them. "They make weapons for the government. They made an organic soldier for warfare."

The Replica Project.

Replica... duplicate.

It's no coincidence that Roxas bears a striking resemblance to Ventus.

"Honestly? The dissolution of Organization XIII is a disservice to us all," Athena pouted and Sora wholeheartedly agreed. "All big corporations has a few squelette in their closets." A chunky bangle of colorful beads rattled at her wrist. "They should've focused solely on the business and keep magic and otherworld stuff out of it."

She took the last rice ball, lonely on the plate, and stuffed it in her mouth.

"Can you still see those orange outlines?" Athena further enquired.

An orange mountain peak dominated the sky. The Pagoda gate loomed, huge and threatening. Sora gazed at the base column, visible from his window. "Yes," he reluctantly admitted. "I don't think I'll ever get rid of it."

"When did Organization XIII get embroiled in all this magic?" Apollo tugged his fringe. "I understand the ideology of continuous growth... but magic?" he snorted

Not really, this business of them is a front.

"This... this business of them is only a facade." Gratified to have the seniors discuss important topics with him, Sora added to the conversation. "Vanitas told me they have ulterior motives, too twisted for people like us..." normal people like you, "to understand."

His phone beeped. The battery full message popped in a window and he dismissed it.

Mr. Wright hurried across the hall, brick phone wedged between his ear and shoulder and a manila folder tucked under his arm. He changed out of his drab tracksuit and politely spoke to a client on the phone.

"Knowing all this," Apollo awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, "knowing the Organization tried to kill you," he pointedly stated, hazel irises sharpening at the tie concealing Sora's scars. "How can you still support them?"

The junior associate dropped his chin into his scarf. Org XIII, the label screamed proudly. "Their products are really good," he mumbled defensively.

"And they deliver excellent service," Cykes jumped to the rescue. "Of course anyone would support Organization XIII. Their unique products boosted the economy of Los Angeles."

Expression crumpling disbelievingly, Apollo muttered under his breath, "Yeah, I wouldn't support my would be murderers wholeheartedly." He crossed his arms. "Do you think the KBWA will stick their noses into this liquidation business?" Justice further queried, the lines on his forehead deepening.

Opening a couple of folders and launching a virtual keyboard, Sora answered, "Of course." This morning, his twin left before the sun peaked over the horizon. "Vanitas is probably there now, forming a perimeter guard, the boss doesn't trust them."

"Where is Organization XIII relocating too?" Sora asked.

Smearing cream liberally over the fine scars crisscrossing his torso, Vanitas ponderously scowled. "I'm not sure. I tried needling Riku, but since the Organization cut all ties to the government, our KBWA doesn't have any jurisdiction over them." The kettle whistled. "From what I heard, they are going to another micro-planet."

A park with gnarled maple trees shivered in the wind. An elderly civil worker sedately raked the dead leaves together and stuffed them in black garbage bags. He worked methodically, raking one square of the park clean before moving on to the other.

Ridiculous.

Where did the brat hear that they were from Destiny Islands? Vanitas, flanked by Donald and Goofy, smoldered when Organization XIII's members waltzed in and out of the now dilapidated store, ferrying merchandise and their clandestine secrets to giant, rumbling trucks.

He lived in Los Angeles all his life, probably near the beach.

Of course they lived near the beach. Vanitas twitched irritably when Larxene, wrapped in a familiar black coat, winked at him before disappearing into the store. How else could they visit the seashore on a daily basis?

Frustrated, he opened the online maps on his flip phone and searched the nearest beach.

A few popped up, quite far from where he and Sora currently lived. Scoffing, Vanitas stuffed the phone back in the pocket of his tight jeans.

Way to let some brat crawl under his skin.

Leon, head snugly cradled by a fur lined hood, prowled past. The hilt of his gunblade poked from beneath a handkerchief permanently spilling from his pocket. Squall's pale blue eyes raked over the surroundings. He did a slow walk around the inner perimeter with Hercules. Vanitas missed the vice-chief; with her around, he could have something decent to stare at while doing this mind numbingly boring assignment.

No wait, Vanitas kicked a chipped piece of cement and it bounced across the pavement; he resolved to be faithful to Trucy.

He deflated.

If she and her Daddy accepted him.

The sun shone its tepid rays on the mostly empty building. Stripped of its LCD screens and the dazzling displays of light, advertisements and color; the once proud store appeared forlorn and ghostly. The lattice of white metal clung to the concrete jealously but it lacked allure. Wisps of wind magic lightened the heavier loads and feet itching to get closer to where Leon and Xemnas conversed, Vanitas shifted from his post and Donald quacked admonishingly.

On the other end, Cloud rooted to the ground, the Buster sword in a guard stance. He rotated on his heel when an armored vehicle squealed to a stop behind him.

King Mickey and his ever faithful knight, Nox, stepped out from the vehicle. The back doors opened and Strife recoiled in revulsion when a dozen snakes collectively exited, their hisses lost in the sighs of wind. A bedraggled individual tumbled from the back of the vehicle, long, grey streaked hair matted with blood. His golden irises, which once gleamed with never-ending amusement, darted around, the pride in them shattered.

Cloud tightened his grip on the Buster sword. Xigbar, winged by Riku and his majesty, lurched forward, squinting against the sun.

Activity increased in front of the building. Dusks and lesser nobodies crammed furniture, unsold products and large, digital screens into the modified Gummi-ships disguised as ordinary moving trucks. The nobodies cut a wide swathe when the keyblade wielders entered the inner circle and quailed, nervously keeping their faces glued to the floor. Their masters worked silently.

Letting down his hood, Squall produced a bunch of keys from his pocket and handed them to the mouse king. Mickey released the shackles binding Xigbar's hands and feet together. A bird perched in the nest of his hair, squawked and took flight as the iron shackles clanged to the floor.

Life returned to the convict's eyes.

"What are they doing?" Vanitas barked when his boss handed Xigbar over. "He... he's supposed to pay for murdering Zack!" Void Gear materialized in a flash of purple flames and Vanitas clenched his weapon, knuckles tight. "I'm going to kill him!" He stormed to the semi-circle of people, keyblade raised vengefully.

Leon turned his head and gave him a hard look. A similar, pleading glare from Riku stopped the exploding Vanitas in his tracks. Dematerializing his weapon, Vanitas marched closer, fingernails digging into his palm in an effort to control his fraying temper.

He wanted the cloying reek Xigbar's blood under his nostrils. Biting the inside of his cheeks, Vanitas halted beside Riku. "Why are we doing this?" he pressed, voice a low growl beneath the talks conducted by the higher ups. "Won't it be advantageous to us if we keep Xigbar on a leash?"

The Grey Knight shook his head. "An agreement," he cryptically responded. "...Please understand," he softly added.

Shut up!

I don't want to understand anything! He deserves to be killed. To be ripped apart to shreds!

Swallowing the overwhelming tide of resentment, Vanitas dipped his head. The handover occurred and his skin prickled when Xigbar and Xemnas studied him.

Say something, Vanitas urged the scarred man. Give me an excuse to tear your throat out!

Instead, Xigbar meekly tailed Lexaeus to a waiting, jet black SUV. The prisoner disappeared into the upholstered interior and tinted windows screened him from view. Glowering, Vanitas allowed Herc to guide him back to his station and trained his smoldering irises to the dozen cop cars swarming the outer boundary.

"I suppose I can't convince you to part with Saix?" Xemnas asked, brushing silver strands of hair away from his tired face.

Shrugging, Leon responded, "You don't need to convince me." The griever pendant on his chest glittered. "It's Tifa who needs convincing," a smile lifted the corner of his mouth, "she is fond of Saix."

The CEO snorted. He will rescue Saix when the opportunity arises; meanwhile, the thought of tangling with the vice-chief's iron fists induced a spike of pain across his temples. He craned his head upwards, burnished-gold eyes pensive. Olympus hung in the sky, teasingly out of reach. If he could get his hands on the wind mage...

His thoughts turned into a jumble. Growling, he stalked away, his sorcerer nobodies faithfully by his side.

Degeneration

Mid-morning

Organization XIII headquarters

Squall paced in the tree ringed plaza. He waited for Xemnas to lumber out from the foyer. The CEO's mouth tightened angrily at the tri-barrier constructed by the KBWA, before his features loosened into an arrogant smirk.

"Terra," Leon called and Xemnas started at the quiet, grave voice; mind plunging into a struggle for supremacy. "Things are changing," he said. "You are changing... let me help you."

Xemnas drew taller, fine wrinkles folding around the edges of his eyes. "And why would I seek help from you, Leonhart?" he hissed. "This change suits me well." A gleam of lust surfaced in his face. "There is nothing wrong with me."

"Everything is wrong with you," Squall continued, infuriatingly calm. "You are degrading, there is nothing left of you in there, Terra."

"Do not call me Terra," Xehanort spat, voice tinged with wrath.

Unflinching, Leon stepped closer, pity contorting his mien. Xemnas sighed, rage ebbing and replaced by the shackles of helplessness.

"It's too late." Silver stands of hair blew across his face. "I appreciate you wanting to help me," he muttered gratefully. An armored van squealed to a stop nearby. "In respect to my legacy, I want you to put an end to this."

Rubbing his scar, Leon lowered his eyes to the ground and Xemnas strode away. He pictured the superior with kind blue eyes, the silver of his hair a warm, chocolate brown.

A/N: The idea of Snow White controlling animals with her whistles and songs was borrowed from Shrek 3. While playing Crisis Core, I was fascinated by the Super Soldier project (never played FF7)

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