On his journey to find his son, Marlin the clownfish went throught the reef's boundaries and met a surgeon fish by the name of Dory in the way. But before, he met a person, a human being lying within the purple metallic shapes of a bettle. His name is Magenta Magenta, and he seeks retaliation. How he came to be there, in deep sea? Rivers are known to connect to the ocean, and that was the last place Magenta went by. He was on a mission, to kill someone. Not that this matters anymore, though he must have left some descendants. His wife seemed a bit lesbian, but she had an uterus for rent. Yes... Magenta Magenta seeks revenge for President Valentine. That name and anything related to it got burned on his mind, yet Magenta can't feel any fever, or warmth, as long as he is within his own Stand... what a funny name, said Dory.
...
-Scotland, 922 A.C.-
Uh... Where am I?
Is this the world covered in darkness Xehanort mentioned to me? The place I had been brought by, althought somehow I feel I had been here before. It's so dark, a dim covers the skies, and flames other than the sun can be seen on a distance. Almost sunset, the orange burns the skies in the horizon, alike the torchs marching to a castle. Catapults erected and stone threw onto stones, yells that will last until there is nobody left, but a winner. If I could do something, on my own... If Sora could be there. No, he ain't. Only me, Kairi. With this keyblade, I can do anything. But this is something else. Why am I here? I didn't asked to be here. I let another to choose my path, instead of myself. I wonder if this is all but a nightmare, if they will be gone at morning. If I'll be able to come back. I tried to search for Sora deep within my heart, my mind put on a deep slumber, alike many of my memories. But that Xehanort wasn't my memory. The pain I felt, still I do feel, is real. Alike this world, soon to be brought in total darkness.
There are many powers this Keyblade hold. I fly over the field, unnoticed as the wind blewing on their faces covered in wounds. There are many hidden within the armory, unlike their scent. Somehow, the walls began to absorb the body of invaders who tried to climb it, alike pasta. I do not approach, with the fear of being absorbed and become another glob of flesh who fell down alongside black chunks of death. This is too real, as if I am seeing a motion picture, alike I see those statues, the ones within the wall, and those lying above towers. Some who were able to climb, the ones who sacrificed their lives before, are all here to destroy these creatures. Before night arrives, they are only stones. An invader drew its sword out of the sheath, with the hopes of piercing the statue. Night arrived, and the creature's claw... it bleeded soon as the tip of that cold blade made contact. A tight hold, the sound of a plastic bottle being squashed, and all I could do was witness the awakening and descent of another to shadows.
One thousand years ago, superstition and the sword ruled.
It was a time of darkness.
It was a world of fear.
It was the age... of gargoyles.
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