14

Vexen

This Twilight Town place was strange. I didn't mind, I suppose it was better than dying on my old world. I had tried to get used to this place. From what I could gather, I was transported to this place when the world fell to the Heartless. It was...odd. I couldn't think of a logical reason why. Ansem had theories about the darkness and the light. He said if one's heart was sufficiently powerful enough for even an instant, they could tap into the darkness or the light, whichever one was their talent. I knew he wanted to run scientific experiments to try and prove it, but I hadn't heard anything about results. Without the proof, my mind wasn't ready to accept something that outrageous.

Until I saw something.

He was walking down the street at the time. It wasn't hard to miss him, he was wearing this bright red bandage on his head, maybe he had surgery recently. It was a blue and white robe, but that wasn't what attracted me to his appearance. It was the face. One eye was covered, but one wasn't. And that eye spoke infinite words about the potential of my possibilities, how maybe I was so wrong. His eye was orange.

I knew only one man who had orange eyes.

Ansem.

I thought maybe it was him, but he passed by without a second glance. Surely he'd recognize me, I was a close assosiate, me and Hojo were his top two researchers. But when he walked by, it was difficult to understand. I decided to follow him, not wanting to make assumptions until I was sure. He went to one of the small, lower class establishments, kind of like the place I was staying. I decided discretion was best, better not peer into a window or anything. I wasn't the spying type anyway, I prefer the more direct approaches to situations. I knocked on the door.

Surprisingly, a woman answered the door. "Yes...?" she asked, unsure of me.

"Um, excuse me," I said, somewhat unsure of the situation myself. That couldn't have been a ghost or something. "Did I see a man with a red cape enter here?"

"Yes," she said, seeming to ease a bit, "DiZ, do you know this man?"

The red coat stranger came to the door, "No..." he said, almost as if he were trying to remember, but kept drawing blanks. But by the deep voice, I knew now, I was right on the money.

"I think you do," I said, a bit relieved I had found the sage, "Ansem."

That seemed to spark his interest. "How do you know that name?" he said.

"Then you are he," I said, I suppose he was trying to hide himself. But that wouldn't explain his reaction to his name but not to me... Perhaps amnesia? "Do you remember me?"

Ansem turned to the woman, still at the door, and looking a bit bewildered at the conversation in what seemed to be her house, "Ms. Lalia, I don't mean to intrude, but may we speak in your home?"

She nodded and gestured towards the table where Ansem and she had been sitting I guess, "By all means, if this man can tell us about you, then please come in, I'll pour the tea."

"So it is amnesia," I offered sitting down.

"Yes," said Ansem, "I appeared on this world, maybe two months ago, and I've been piecing together these...fragmented...memories, I think I may understand what I am now."

"Then you are Ansem, our leader," I said. I didn't quite know how to break the news to him about the Heartless overrunning the world.

"Well," he said, almost trying to correct me, while agreeing at the same time, "I am Ansem, and I am not. Have you heard of the Heartless?"

"Yes," I said grimly, "they overran our world. I escaped, somehow, but most of our people were lost. I used to work with you...with Ansem...on his Heartless experiements." I concluded. That basically brought him up to speed, I think.

"I see," said Ansem...or, what was it that woman called him...DiZ. "Do you know what happened to Ansem?" he asked. I was taken aback. Though, it should figure that he would know and not me, was it a direct question, or did he want to tell me? I shook my head no. "Ansem..." he began, and then paused, like he was searching for words. I became concerned, something bad happened to him? We had figured that out before hand. He continued, "Ansem gave his heart to the darkness. He sacrificed it so that he could become pure darkness. I am the body that was cast aside. And though I have no proof, if Ansem succumbed to the darkness, he may have been the one who drew the Heartless to your world."

This wasn't quite what I was expecting. "Well..." I said, not quite sure what I should say, "that would fit with what we know about the Heartless. They are drawn to darkness. If there was a heart, any heart, that was totally darkness, I would think all Heartless everywhere would be attracted to it."

"I believe you misunderstand," DiZ said, "I believe Ansem summoned the Heartless."

That, I would not accept, I was determined to believe Ansem died defending our world, not destroying it. "Are you sure about that?" I asked him.

"No," he admitted, "but it would be my guess."

I tried to fight the urge to believe him. I had noticed Ansem's fascination with the darkness, but I didn't think he would be that rash. But...something felt...right...about DiZ's proposal. Maybe Ansem really did...

"Well, I won't jump to conclusions until I know," I said, "I spent many months studying the light and darkness, I'm not sure Ansem would have given himself willingly."

"If that's true," DiZ said, "then perhaps you should like to join me, and two comrades, at my home. We have many discussions along this line, your insight may open whole new doors."

The first thing you must understand about me, is that I'm a scientist. Even when my feelings tell me otherwise, the need for science and fact and conclusion overrides everything else in my persona. "I'd enjoy that very much," I told him.

DiZ looked over to his friend, "I am sorry Ms. Lalia, I do not mean to exclude you," he said in his apologetic tone. It was strange, I knew this man, and yet, I had never met him before.

"Not it's alright, I'm just wondering when you found out your name," she said.

"About 2 weeks ago," Ans...DiZ responded. "Though I much prefer my current name. I am not Ansem anyway, I am the least important part of him, I shouldn't like to use his name."

"Oh, well that explains it," Lalia said. Suddenly I heard a baby crying from the back room.

DiZ stood up, "Jora is awake, I believe we should be going."

I followed his lead, "Yes, quite."

Lalia seemed to know we were right, but didn't seem to want to stop talking. Though her maternal instinct beat out her curiosity in about half a second, "Alright, but do be sure to visit again, won't you DiZ? Jora will want to see his uncle sooner or later."

"Kind to the last," DiZ said smiling, and we took our leave of Lalia's home.