The Eleventh Hour
By Lynx (of Organization VI)
Rating: Uh, T for Teen, I guess.
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts or its characters; they belong to Disney and Squeenix, respectively. No money's being made, le cry.
Summary: For Riku, his future was the same as his past.
Notes: Basically, a much more lengthy expansion on a drabble I wrote a month or so back. A lot of the ideas, theories and reasoning I need to credit Rebmakash for, because she's the smart one and thinks up all the cool stuff. I just add a lot of words onto it.
There will be KH2 SPOILERS APLENTY in this fic, so be warned.
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Chapter Two – THE SECOND HOUR
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TICK
The gang of Heartless split: some ran for the outer ramparts, while a few stragglers scuttled over the cobblestones and into the courtyard. Riku barred his Keyblade, tracking the few that ran just out of his line of sight. He yelled back over his shoulder, "I'll take those, you three handle the rest!"
"You sure you'll be okay by yourself, Riku?" Goofy called back down, his shield held out in an attack posture.
"I think I can handle half a dozen Heartless." Riku smirked back up at the knight. "I'll meet up with you guys in just a second."
"Right!" Sora nodded in return, spinning the Keyblade behind his back. His fighting clothes had changed to blue hues, and his shoes hovered a few inches off the ground. "Come on, guys!" he encouraged, waving a hand over his shoulder. He skated on air down the rampart, with Goofy and an exhausted Donald close behind him. Satisfied that the trio had things under control, he descended the steps two at a time down to where the courtyard opened up before the castle gate.
His steps slowed once he reached level ground. The Heartless he had seen come this way were nowhere to be found...in fact, the entire area was completely silent. Even the footsteps of Sora, Donald and Goofy were gone. The air around him felt hollow and unbreathable.
"Riku."
The shattered silence felt like glass in his ears. He spun, and saw the source of the voice. It was a man, or maybe a Heartless...he couldn't tell for all the armor it wore. The armor seemed to sprout from the figure like curved, plated scales. He could feel this thing as well as see it, and it felt old. He couldn't see its eyes, but he knew it was staring right at him, and with a tired spite that only ancient things could feel. The thing I saw at the window!
He regained his senses, and brandished Way to the Dawn with one arm outstretched. "Who are you?"
"A Chaser."
"A what—"
The Chaser extended a hand. "Come with me. Your time is running short. All time is running short."
"Come with you where?"
"To where you began. To your future." The Chaser's voice was garbled beneath the armor, and sounded more like a distant, metallic echo than a real voice.
Riku's gaze narrowed. He remembered the last time a dark figure had asked for his cooperation. "My future's right here," he said, taking a cautious step backward.
The Chaser didn't seem to have heard him. "It will only get worse. You'll lose the memories first. Then the places you know and the people you love will be gone. Everything will be reduced to oblivion. You have no choice, Xehanort."
His breath froze in his chest, then heated back up into an anger that spread down to his fingers. "What did you call me?"
"We knew you would resist," the Chaser almost sighed. "But if you will not come back willingly, then we shall use force."
"I'll show you force!"
Riku concentrated the heat of darkness in his limbs, and shot the energy as a Dark Aura spell from his Keyblade. The white-hot bolts bee-lined for the armored figure...who sidestepped it as if it'd always known it was coming. "Good to see you haven't lost your affinity for darkness over the years."
It held out a hand, and with a rippling displacement of space, a very familiar weapon fell into its fingers.
A Keyblade!
This Keyblade was massive, with jagged teeth and an iron grip that looked worn down from centuries of use. The Chaser hefted it over its shoulder as if it weighed nothing. Now Riku was actually afraid.
His opponent charged, leaving Riku a split second to block the strike. He could feel the crushing weight of the iron Key grinding against his own, and yet somehow knew its wielder wasn't using its full strength against him. He ducked low, and swung the Keyblade at his attacker's legs. The Chaser dodged, and Riku took the opportunity to back off and fire another Dark Aura spell, but the bolts were deflected.
Then the Chaser charged again, putting Riku back on the defensive. He barely had enough time to block strike after strike after strike, let alone get in one of his own. The echoes of pounding metal shivered through his nerves, weakening his limbs with every clash. If I don't take the upper hand now, it'll overpower me with no effort!
Summoning the thick fire of darkness deep within him, he pressed against the Key and forced the armored figure back. Riku regained his ground, panting and tasting the darkness in his mouth. It's too strong. Maybe if I keep it talking, it'll let its guard down and I can finish it!
"You said our memories would leave first..." he gasped. "How do you know about that? Do you know what's causing it?"
"If something never happens, it will leave no memory," it responded simply. It stepped to the side, and Riku did so as well, keeping them circling.
"That doesn't make any sense. How could we forget something happened if it never happened in the first place?"
Two more steps. "A paradox. You are undoing everything."
Riku felt his plan was backfiring...the Chaser was confusing him more than he was confusing it. He decided he needed different questions. "How do you have a Keyblade?"
"A relic of forgotten years," it said, and its pace seemed to slow.
He grabbed the opening, and sped around behind his opponent while unleashing another Dark Aura spell. It hit this time, and he landed a series of fast slashes across its back as it reeled. The Chaser faced him again in a split moment for breath, but Riku still held the upper hand. He swung his Keyblade in a blind rage, adrenaline and darkness pushing his movements at a pace far faster than normal. The Chaser just blocked his attacks...it clearly wasn't trying to actually kill him.
Enough successive swings from Way to the Dawn finally pinned it against the wall. But just when Riku thought he had it finished, it disappeared – and reappeared directly behind him. He froze, waiting for the blow he knew was coming.
Instead, he just heard its voice, cold and metallic close to his ear:
"It seems you still need convincing. But never forget: we'll be back for you soon, Xehanort."
Riku spun back around to face the Chaser, but it was gone. He was alone in the courtyard once again.
"Riku!"
He heard Sora's voice, and looked up to see the trio descending from the rampart to meet him. His clothes had returned to their usual black, and he waved the Keyblade over his head with a look of triumph. "Piece of cake! We got 'em all."
"Huh?" His own fight had distracted him from what they were supposed to be doing in the first place.
Goofy tilted his head at him. "You okay?"
Riku realized that he was panting, and that his hands were shaking from the adrenaline. He dismissed Way to the Dawn from his grip, but his fingers remained in their reflexive curl.
Sora noticed his ragged state. "You don't look so good. What happened?"
"N-nothing," Riku breathed, sucking in air as if he'd been holding his breath the entire time. "They just all ganged up on me at once. Took me by surprise."
"Huh..." Sora didn't look completely convinced, but enough for now. "Say, did you see my Follow the Wind Keychain anywhere around? It's not in my pocket, so I think I might've dropped it."
"No," Riku replied. When has Sora ever lost a Keychain?
"Probably left it in your room," Donald scolded.
Sora shrugged. "Maybe. Well, it looks like we got all of them, so let's go find the others."
The three walked back in the direction of the town. Riku only gave a brief glance over his shoulder before following them.
Whatever that thing was...if it does come back, I'll stop it for sure.
TOCK"Bring him here."
He watched as two Armored Knight Heartless dragged his former teacher to his feet. Ansem the Wise crumpled to his knees once released, his blond hair ragged and his skin covered in bruises. The Heartless backed off at his commanding gaze.
"Braig...Dilan...Ienzo...where are they? What have you done with them?" Ansem gasped, sounding much older than he looked even now.
"You should be more worried about yourself," Xehanort said with a sneer, his long cape brushing the ground behind his boots. Much more fitting than his old lab coat. "You see, this world no longer needs you. I no longer need you."
Ansem swallowed hard. "Xehanort, I've taken care of you all this time. I know how desperately you want the answers to your questions. But you cannot obtain them like this!"
"Stupid old fool," he spat back, his orange eyes burning as fierce as Ansem's once did. "I've already found the answer. It was beneath our feet the entire time, behind the door...you were just too cowardly to accept it."
"I did so for the good of the world!" Ansem exclaimed before his voice became quiet again. "For the sake of everyone...for your sake."
Xehanort decided he didn't want to look at his master's face anymore, and began to circle him, broken glass crunching under his boots. "Or just because some simple-minded King told you so."
"Don't you dare bring King Mickey into—"
"I care not for other worlds," Xehanort interrupted. "How did they care for me? By casting me aside, as you have done? So I'm simply returning the favor."
There was a long pause, broken only by the cracking glass and the scraping shift of the Heartless's armor. "I see now there will be no stopping you or convincing you of your errors," Ansem said with a shuddering sigh. "I have failed you."
Xehanort smirked. "Wise until the end."
"What are you going to do with me?"
"Oh, I do believe you know the answer to that already." He stopped circling and stood behind Ansem. "Darkness has given me all of the answers I seek, so I will let you experience that darkness. You will see all the answers you need, too."
Ansem the Wise took in each breath with a solemnity Xehanort could only assume was acceptance. "Where are my other apprentices?"
The white-haired man suddenly became angry at the mention. "Always caring so much about others! Never willing to admit the selfishness you harbor!" He raised a gloved hand as if to strike.
"It was selfish of me!" Ansem yelled back. "I should have known better than to temper the darkness of a heart already steeped in it...but I wanted to know! I wanted to know for your sake!"
Xehanort lowered his hand. "More petty excuses."
Ansem was gasping now, as if knowing he had little time left. "All I ask, if you are to punish me...is that you hurt no one else. Leave this world be. If you must chase darkness, leave the worlds and their people in peace!"
The sneer returned. He had found the spot that hurt the most. "I am Ansem now. This world will do as I say. They will follow their wise leader."
The fire of anger that he thought Ansem had lost spurred to life again. "No! You will not harm innocents! I will not stand for it!"
Xehanort's grin spread wider at witnessing his master's fury. He could almost taste its bitterness. "All you own belongs to me. Your gardens, your people, your world are mine to do with as I see fit."
And then he was back on his feet, ignoring the shifting clanks from the Armored Knights. "I cannot stand for it! All those people...they must be kept safe from the darkness!"
Xehanort lifted his hand, and a swirling pool of darkness appeared before the study door. "I will reduce everything to oblivion. You have no choice."
Forgetting both the portal of darkness and the surrounding Heartless, Ansem threw himself upon his former apprentice. He barely even landed one punch before he was restrained again by metal arms. Xehanort rubbed at the bruise on his cheek, but merely smiled. "Always resistant. Like me."
The Heartless began to drag Ansem back towards the portal. Xehanort pointed at his struggling form. "You, who were once called Ansem the Wise, are unfit to rule this world. Therefore, you are exiled to the realm of darkness, never to return."
His teacher flailed uselessly against the Heartless, having lost his former dignity. His eyes now matched the rage within his own. "I swear to you, Xehanort, I will make you pay for this! I will make you suffer!"
Then the Armored Knights shoved him through the portal. Something like a strangled cry echoed back through the dark, but then the blackness dissipated and he was gone.
Xehanort's feelings of triumph were damped by a great bitterness as his master's last words hung in the empty space.
Why do his words feel so familiar?
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