"When you have come to the edge of all the light you have
And step into the darkness of the unknown
Believe that one of the two will happen to you
Either you'll find something solid to stand on
Or you'll be taught how to fly!"
-Richard Bach
Chapter 3 Into The Abyss
It is Time.
After aeons of waiting, the Heart of All Worlds, Kingdom Hearts, is finally waking.
The Time of Judgement has arrived.
The Darkness has awoken, and now its wrath shall be felt across all worlds.
The Door must be opened, or all will be lost.
Dark times lie ahead, and an unclear, uncertain horizon filled with midnight is all that can be seen.
Hope is faint but existent.
The Light is dim, but fighting.
Existence still has a chance at survival. Heroes still stand at the ready, to defend their worlds.
But the heroes have been caught off guard.
The Darkness is strong, far stronger than the Light at its present strength.
Many will not survive the coming night.
Those who do... will lose everything.
And the fate of all worlds lies on the shoulders, on the decisions of one mortal boy plagued by grief and sorrow. The path he treads is perilous, on the edge of a razor, where madness, tragedy, and death await... and that is only if he can succeed.
His is a Destiny forged by tragedy and triumph, despair and hope, Light and Dark, Death and Rebirth.
He wields the Key.
He will open the Door, or Existence, Reality, the whole of Creation, will fall to Darkness.
And he, and he alone, will enter Kingdom Hearts, and discover what lies beyond the gates of Creation.
And should he fail, every single creature on every single world will know it.
"Harry... what is that?" Ginny asked breathlessly, wincing at the wound in her side.
The Boy-Who-Lived looked at his hand and gasped in surprise.
In his hand was an oversized key of some sort, with a slightly shorter length and much thicker blade than the sword of Gryffindor he had used in his second year. Its handle guard was a square shape of deep amber, protecting a brown, soft hilt. At the end was a keychain, from which dangled a peculiar shape; three circles, a large circle with a smaller one attached to each side. The end was even stranger; a flat crown shape jutted out of the right side of the tip.
"I don't know..." Harry bit his lip, "But I think... I think somehow, I do."
"Yeah... that doesn't answer my question." Ginny said quietly.
"It's called the Keyblade." The Boy-Who-Lived whispered softly, gripping the weapon tightly, not knowing how he knew that. When his instincts screamed at him to drop the unfamiliar object, his heart told him otherwise. It felt... it felt as though he was holding a part of his heart in the palm of his hand, or meeting an old friend from childhood.
It was his, and it would give him the strength to protect his friends.
That was enough.
They stood in silence for a few moments, just staring at the newly appeared weapon. Neither of them made a move to leave, entranced by the oddity.
Finally, Ginny managed to shake herself from the Keyblade's image, realizing that, in time, the shadows would return.
"Come on Harry... we'd better get to Ron's room before-" to prove the universe has impeccable timing, a mob of the shadow creatures stormed through the doorway once more, their fear forgotten.
The Boy-Who-Lived, more out of instinct and desperation than thought, lunged and swung the Keyblade, which sliced two of the creatures apart and caused the rest to pull back. Even before the smoke had fully wafted away, Ginny snapped into action, letting a barrage of spells loose, though she seemed pale and sickly from the effort.
One creature slashed at him, which Harry blocked with the Keyblade, and then shoved it backwards. Before it could recover, the Boy-Who-Lived spun out, using the momentum of his rotation to cut a path through the mob.
Two more swings of the key shaped weapon and a second wave of magic later, Harry and Ginny had pushed through the mob, hurtling towards Ron's room. After a moment, the mass of umbra recovered, and, like the ebb and flow of a tide, surged forward.
One creature lunged for him, but the Boy-Who-Lived managed to bring the Keyblade to bear just in time, cutting it in half. Snarling at the memory of what these things had done to his friends, he lunged again, stabbing and hacking away at the teeming mob of shadows.
Ginny, meanwhile, had stuck close to Harry, covering him with a barrage of spells, though her body was begin to ache and protest at the constant movement.
The Boy-Who-Lived ducked low, avoiding a navy spell from Ginny and allowing it to strike one of the creatures. Without pause he lashed out, sending a few more of the creatures flying, dissipating them into black smoke.
After a few moments more of fierce fighting, the remaining creatures retreated, leaving the way to Ron's room open.
The Dark Lord had not moved a single inch from the place where he stood, the place of his greatest triumph. Laid low, heart stolen at his feet, was Albus Dumbledore, white hair splayed out on the floor.
Satisfaction was etched on his features, triumph shining in his crimson eyes. This was a glorious day, the true day of his ascension.
A slight movement behind him alerted Lord Voldemort that his servant had arrived.
Bellatrix Lestrange bowed lowly, and knelt. The crest on her chest twinkled darkly. "The Order is retreating." She reported tonelessly, as if dead.
"Excellent." The Dark Lord murmured softly, taking no offence at the fact that his servant added no honorifics. After all, heartless puppets were merely tools, not people. "How many have we taken?"
"Nearly all of this world has fallen to Darkness."
"Excellent."
Silence hung like a heavy smog.
"Begin preparing to move out. I will finish this world." Lord Voldemort said coldly, breaking the silence.
Standing and bowing once more the mindless doll that was once Bellatrix Lestrange faded into the Darkness.
A smile flashed itself across the demon's face. This world, and Potter, would fall. Like all other worlds.
Laughter echoed from the Darkness, within the Darkness.
The End of the World... no one knows for sure how it will come.
Some say in fire, some say in ice...
With a bang, with a whimper...
But the truth is, it ends in Darkness, with a howl.
It is unsure where the origin point of this abyss was placed, as it rampantly grew too fast and without warning.
A thin sheet of blank midnight swept across the Earth, hungrily devouring miles within minutes. Islands toppled in and sank into the abyss. Entire oceans drained into its voracious emptiness. Continents were enshrouded and devoured.
Without a single stop in the shadow's movement.
The only sound that most inhabitants of the planet heard before they were consumed by the mass of umbra was a terrible howl that chilled them to the core.
And for that, they should be thankful.
For to face that terrible void, that roaring nothingness, was to look into the very antithesis of existence, of light.
Something so terrible that no Good, not a single spark could exist within.
This awesome force ripped most from this world with blessed, painless ease.
And yet, the Darkness could not, would not ever, conquer all.
For some odd reason, the sweeping abyssal progress was slowed around a single house.
All around it, there was a terrible void, where nothing existed. And yet, this singular house stayed afloat longer than any other.
As if there was some force protecting the inhabitants from being absorbed by the malevolent darkness. An unseen, yet inherently potent force that was holding back something that had already taken half the planet, and was working on the rest.
This force, this light may be the only thing that could stop this Darkness... and it was trapped, isolated within one house.
Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
"God have mercy..." Harry whispered softly, gazing outside the window, where nothing but a gaping, howling abyss awaited.
Ginny hadn't spoken a word since they had looked outside, merely gaping at what lay beyond, frozen up completely. After a few moments, she managed a quiet, barely audible whisper. "What... what do we do now, Harry?"
"I don't know Ginny." The Boy-Who-Lived whispered softly, glancing at the Keyblade. It was silent, offering no answers save its comforting glow. He felt a chill sweep across his back and knew that the shadows were back.
With a spin, he brought the Keyblade to bear. Ginny followed suit, though fatigue was clearly etched into her features as she, with a shaking hand, raised her wand.
Harry, with a loud cry, leapt into the mob, hacking and slashing his way through them. Though he had no experience with the blade, he somehow moved with liquid, animalistic grace, spinning, ducking, weaving his way through the crowd with brutal efficiency that bordered on a berserk rage.
Ginny, for her part, was still wincing from the cut in her side, and constantly using magic was not helping her condition. She blasted one creature that got dangerously close to her backwards, and winced again, feeling blood flow in rivulets down her skin.
The Boy-Who-Lived spun, and the Keyblade whistled through the air, slicing apart yet another shadow. Without stopping, he lashed out, and the weapon hacked a creature standing to close to him into pieces. His ears were pounding, the adrenaline and intensity of battle completely overwhelming his senses, drowning all perception and narrowing it into a fine tunnel.
It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Fighting with the Keyblade seemed natural, familiar, the grace he wielded it with almost unnoticed by himself. It felt like the weapon was merely an extension of his soul, his heart; a weapon that sprang from deep within him. A power he had never known or even guessed at, was awakened within him.
The Power the Dark Lord knows not...
His reverie was broken as Ginny screamed. Harry turned slowly, just in time to witness a scene that would haunt him for days, weeks, months to come. One creature leapt for her, black claw outstretched, gleaming and ready to kill.
Harry's anguished shout seemed faint as he lunged forward, but it was too late, far too late...
Time slowed to a grinding halt, letting every horrifying second become an Eternity in the pits of Hell.
The claw pierced her chest, plunging into her torso. The redhead's eyes went blank and her body went slack as the creature attacked her. And then, with agonizing slowness it removed its claw, revealing a bright golden light in its grasp, with a small tinge of black.
And then time resumed, and the Keyblade slammed into the creature, slicing it apart with damnable ease. His cry of rage and hurt scattered the shadows for a little longer, while he clutched Ginny's unconscious body to himself.
Tears fell from his eyes. So many friends lost today... and for what?
He didn't even know what was happening! What the hell was going on!
Fury etched into his eyes, the Boy-Who-Lived let go of the redhead and lunged for the creatures, renewed tenacity in his strikes. He cut the first one down with ease, and the second, then a third, and a fourth. A shadow leapt for him, but with ruthless speed, he cut it apart in midair. One by one, the shadows seemed to melt before his rage.
As they faded away, Harry gasped deeply, sucking in breath after breath, but not exhausted. Not yet. Not with his pain and fury still raw, like an open, festering wound.
He felt the chills return, much deeper than before, and raised his head, Keyblade at the ready-
"Expelliarmus!"
And even as the Keyblade was thrown from his grasp, Harry Potter was thrown to the floor, unarmed before the smirking demon known as the Dark Lord.
Lord Voldemort smiled maliciously, raising his wand. "There is no mother to die for you, no Order to rescue you, no Dumbledore to save you. You are alone now, boy."
Harry's mind screamed at him to move, to try and find some way to escape the clutches of the Dark Lord once more. Then something shifted against his body.
His wand!
With a quickness borne of panic, the Boy-Who-Lived's hand shot for his wand-
But the Dark Lord was quicker.
"Accio wand." He said calmly, and grasped the summoned stick in his pale, shadowed hand. Lord Voldemort smiled wider...
And snapped the wand in two imperiously. With a contemptuous smirk, he threw the broken wand down, where a single phoenix feather drifted downwards. Symbolically, the Dark Lord stomped the faded red feather into the ground.
Harry's mind raced rapidly for an answer. The Keyblade was his only weapon, but it lay beyond the Dark Lord... next to Ginny.
Guilt and rage surged, twin forces that blazed in his eyes. He would make sure Ginny got out of this... no matter what. He wished with a feverish desperation for that strange weapon, hoping against all hope that it would be enough to save him and his friend.
As if answering its master's call for aid, the Keyblade dissipated into sparks and flew into Harry's hand. The momentary surprise was etched into both the Dark Lord and the Boy-Who-Lived's eyes.
Harry got over it faster, and swung the Keyblade, its teething edge first. The Dark Lord leapt backwards, narrowly avoiding the attack. "Avada Kedavra!" he snarled, and the unholy green light rocketed towards the Boy-Who-Lived.
Throwing himself to the floor, Harry winced as wooden shrapnel rained down around him from where the Killing Curse had struck. Dust and debris scattered about, what remained of the demolished wall littered around his body.
The words of another Avada Kedavra sprang into action as he rolled aside again, but not unscathed. He screamed in agony as a wooden shard plunged into his side, but staggered to his feet nonetheless. The warmth of his own blood spilled over his fingers.
Behind him, Ginny still lay unconscious, unmoving and helpless.
Still, the fire, the spark of defiance was not gone from Harry's eyes.
"Defiant to the last, like your parents, I see." Lord Voldemort hissed softly. "Very well then. AVADA KEDAVRA!"
There was no dodging this one, no last minute saves or ideas... not with his mind still wracked with pain from the wound. Reflexively, he brought up his hand to shield himself... the hand with the Keyblade.
The Dark Lord's eyes widened as the vile emerald light of the Killing Curse was deflected upwards as it struck the luminous silver of the Keyblade. The light expended itself on the ceiling, where a large, burnt hole had appeared in its wake, along with a rain of dust and debris.
Harry gasped as he realized he wasn't dead, and took the initiative, bringing his weapon down towards the Dark Lord's chest, where the crest was held, hoping he could damage the Dark Lord.
It was in vain.
The shadows around Lord Voldemort coalesced into a protective corona of midnight, and blocked the attack.
The teen barely had time to gape before a vicious tendril of darkness lashed out, driving the breath from his body as he felt it crunch against his stomach. With a loud thump, he landed on the floor, barely hanging on to consciousness.
Lord Voldemort smirked, but there was some hint of fear in his eyes as he spoke. "Even the Keyblade will not save you this time, Potter."
To drive the hopelessness of the situation home, the walls behind him buckled and collapsed into the ever growing abyss outside.
The sound was the worst... an unholy, utterly terrible howl of absolute Darkness as it hungrily devoured the world.
"Between the Devil and the deep blue sea, I'd say, Potter." The Dark Lord said calmly, still wearing that damnable smirk.
Desperation set in once more, and Harry felt warm blood running down his side, slithering down his leg. Reaching out, he grasped the wood, and with a sickly sucking sound, removed it from his side and threw it away.
It was over, he knew. Either he could allow himself to die by Voldemort's hand, or let that terrible, howling void devour him.
There was no way out this time... no one to die for or protect him. At long last, his long, painful life had come to a bitter end.
A slight glimmer of light appeared next to him, some semblance of light reflected in red hair. Ginny...
She didn't deserve to die here... hadn't Voldemort done enough to her?
He had already violated her body, forced her to become his puppet... Harry would rather die than see anyone, especially her, be affected by Voldemort's evil anymore.
He would never, never allow that Darkness to hurt anyone anymore.
He would protect her... no matter what.
But there was only two ways to leave this place.
There was certain Death on one hand... and the howling abyss on the other.
Quick death, or into the black unknown.
For this one moment, everything hung in the balance. All of existence, every being, though most did not realize it, held their breath, waiting in breathless, terrified anticipation of the decisions made today, at this one critical crossroads.
Everything hinged on Harry Potter's next choice.
A small smile quirked its way to the face of the Boy-Who-Lived. Lord Voldemort's eyes narrowed in consternation.
If he could spite, escape the Dark Lord one more time, defy him just once more... that alone might make it worth it.
He would never submit to the Darkness.
Never.
Sucking in a breath, Harry spun, grabbed Ginny Weasley, and threw himself into the roaring, endless abyss...
Nothingness, terrible howls and arctic cold devoured his senses...
And he knew no more.