A/N: This story was co-written with one of my friends, NeonSilver. She rox0rz my sox0rz. So we decided to give everyone new clothes and new personalities and new looks. There's a LOT of outfit swapping on the girls' sides, but we were nice and did it for the boys, too.
NS: Hells yeah there's a lot! Because we just couldn't decide on an outfit TT
B: It's not OUR fault we should be fashion designers!!
NS: Moving on.
Disclaimer: Riku and Sora are (unfortunately) not ours. They belong to Square. All of the worlds belong to Disney. Aurore and Dellyn belong to BenevolenceinViolet and NeonSilver. The prologue is loosely based off of the Matrix. The Matrix is also, to my despair, not ours. Enjoy.
Prologue
Sora's hands flew over the keyboard in a mad rush to finish what he was typing.
The only noises in the room were his harsh, heavy breathing and the subtle clicking of the keys as he hit them rapidly. Smirking, he hit "enter" and waited for any replies. The screens around him began to hum and whir sporadically, flickering on and off, on and off...
Although it had only been a few moments, those moments felt like ages when he actually got a reply. The screen beeped at an inhuman pitch, words forming as the receiver typed away to him.
Now that he could finally ask his question, the words seemed to catch in his throat, in his fingers. Nervousness filtering into his very veins. As he typed slowly, Sora spoke quietly the words that flowed from his fingertips, "Somebody please tell me...," he whispered, "why it feels more real when I dream than when I'm awake..." He hit the enter key once more and waited. Thirty seconds dragged by without a reply when he started to type again, "How can I know if my senses are lying?"
Again the moniters began a steady hum and flicker. More text showed up on the screen, though Sora had no time to read the long-awaited answer to his question. From somewhere in the darkness behind him came a woman's scream, deafeningly loud. Sora looked back into the inky blackness with wide eyes. Someone was here and he didn't know who.
A cold breeze ran through the room as he bolted for the open door. The only light in the room came from the glowing computer screens and when he threw the door open, not much changed. A man and a woman were discussing something in another room to his left, but Sora didn't take any time to listen. Instead he took off in another direction from the small room. He ran fast, not thinking, not feeling, not anything. It was a while before he came to a sudden stop, his blood running cold as his heart began to pound madly. Standing before him was a shadow. A shadow of the past.
Sora reached deep into his mind and grasped hold of his keyblade, lunging at the darkness leering down at him. He fought then, fought harder than he felt he would ever fight. The figure's long, dark claws wrapped around his body and he felt the very life being sucked from him. He thrashed and speared, driving the edge of the blade straight into the very core of the menacing swirl of shadows. A wave of triumph washed over him and he straightened. No sooner had he rose then his world went black and he fell to the ground.
The computer made another of its high-pitched beeping alters, the noise now echoing off the empty walls, hanging in the thick air. Slowly the answer formed to the empty room's question.
"There is some fiction in your truth and some truth in your fiction. To know the truth, you must risk everything. Are you willing to make that sacrafice?"
NS: Hells yeah there's a lot! Because we just couldn't decide on an outfit TT
B: It's not OUR fault we should be fashion designers!!
NS: Moving on.
Disclaimer: Riku and Sora are (unfortunately) not ours. They belong to Square. All of the worlds belong to Disney. Aurore and Dellyn belong to BenevolenceinViolet and NeonSilver. The prologue is loosely based off of the Matrix. The Matrix is also, to my despair, not ours. Enjoy.
Prologue
Sora's hands flew over the keyboard in a mad rush to finish what he was typing.
The only noises in the room were his harsh, heavy breathing and the subtle clicking of the keys as he hit them rapidly. Smirking, he hit "enter" and waited for any replies. The screens around him began to hum and whir sporadically, flickering on and off, on and off...
Although it had only been a few moments, those moments felt like ages when he actually got a reply. The screen beeped at an inhuman pitch, words forming as the receiver typed away to him.
Now that he could finally ask his question, the words seemed to catch in his throat, in his fingers. Nervousness filtering into his very veins. As he typed slowly, Sora spoke quietly the words that flowed from his fingertips, "Somebody please tell me...," he whispered, "why it feels more real when I dream than when I'm awake..." He hit the enter key once more and waited. Thirty seconds dragged by without a reply when he started to type again, "How can I know if my senses are lying?"
Again the moniters began a steady hum and flicker. More text showed up on the screen, though Sora had no time to read the long-awaited answer to his question. From somewhere in the darkness behind him came a woman's scream, deafeningly loud. Sora looked back into the inky blackness with wide eyes. Someone was here and he didn't know who.
A cold breeze ran through the room as he bolted for the open door. The only light in the room came from the glowing computer screens and when he threw the door open, not much changed. A man and a woman were discussing something in another room to his left, but Sora didn't take any time to listen. Instead he took off in another direction from the small room. He ran fast, not thinking, not feeling, not anything. It was a while before he came to a sudden stop, his blood running cold as his heart began to pound madly. Standing before him was a shadow. A shadow of the past.
Sora reached deep into his mind and grasped hold of his keyblade, lunging at the darkness leering down at him. He fought then, fought harder than he felt he would ever fight. The figure's long, dark claws wrapped around his body and he felt the very life being sucked from him. He thrashed and speared, driving the edge of the blade straight into the very core of the menacing swirl of shadows. A wave of triumph washed over him and he straightened. No sooner had he rose then his world went black and he fell to the ground.
The computer made another of its high-pitched beeping alters, the noise now echoing off the empty walls, hanging in the thick air. Slowly the answer formed to the empty room's question.
"There is some fiction in your truth and some truth in your fiction. To know the truth, you must risk everything. Are you willing to make that sacrafice?"